SunBEAN and Amen!

This is J.B. He is conquerer of the dryer.

One of the saving graces of little children is that to outweigh all of the naughty and obnoxious things that they do, they also do really cute things. My three year old is a troublemaking poster child. He gets into mischief at his every convenience and his favorite word right now is "No." He also runs around saying "I am not a newb." That is his big brother CeDricK and his uncle Kurt's favorite phrase. It means a New Bee, or beginner, Rookie, Know-nothing. They got it from Runescape, a computer game that sucks away the extra hours of both those two boys and my husband. I hate the game just for existing, but that is a whole different blog.

So J.B. is now a Sunbeam at church which is our cute phrase for children who turn four anytime this year, but my child thinks that he is a SunBEAN. The most common way that we end a prayer is to say "in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen." On Sunday when J.B. heard the speaker say that we have a Savior and his name is Jesus Christ," My son looks up from where he is laying on the ground playing quietly (yes, miracles do happen!) and says "Amen!" We all start giggling of course. I am no good at not laughing at the unexpected.

I laughed when he did something similar at home while we were watching General Conference. The people asked to say a prayer often take a really long time. J.B. was done listening well before the prayer ended, so he took matters into his own hands and said "Amen" and walked away. I like his style. If that method worked, I would use it on Fast Sundays, because they are usually not fast, but SLOOOOOOOOW!

He also calls our van a Wan. Maybe because we often go wah, wah, wah all the way home. I already did a posting about his calling a knife, a Wife. On days when I get irritated at him for playing in the flour cannister, smearing Noxzema cream or petroleum jelly all down my stairs or giving me a handful of brown organic diaper matter, the little cute things that he does are indeed what save his hide.

Smells Like Chicken, Tastes like...

I specialize in embarrassing myself, whether publicly or privately. It is a natural talent that I possess and can't seem to shake.

I am the star of one of our family's most memorable stories having to do with ordinary baby food. I was feeding my son Benjamin a jar of Organic Blueberry Applesauce. I had him sitting on the kitchen counter, where he couldn't run away. When my son had finished the jar, I lifted him down and he ran off. I saw some of his yummy baby food in a splatter on the counter and swiped it up with my finger. It was neither yummy or applesauce, but organic matter of a deeper, darker and more disgusting origin. Yes, it does taste just like it smells! I used all matter of cleaning fluids to wash out my mouth but felt dirty for days. The joys of motherhood.

All five of my kids have had the ability to make or break an average diaper. I have so many stories of flinging fecal matter and leak-throughs of magnanimous proportions. I could write a book! A great example of bodily functions gone wrong would have to include my oldest son at a Cub Scout meeting where I was the newest Assistant Den Mother. During a prayer, my son passed gas making a man sized blast of sound. A scout turned from the row of chairs in front of me and gave me an accusing look. "It was the baby," I told him. He emphatically said "That was no baby."

This last Sunday at church we were at a special ceremony for our son who just turned twelve and has had many more responsiblities placed upon him. My baby brother came from college to help in my son's ordination and was holding my nine month old son while sitting next to my oldest son. The boy on the other side of him says "Does anyone else smell that? It smells like chicken." After the ceremony, we were leaving the room and as I was handed the baby I discovered the source of the "chicken" smell. It was not a fowl smell, but a foul smell emanating from his diaper.
For the rest of the day, if either boy had a dirty diaper, we would say "It smells like chicken" and it's someone else's turn. That's the pecking order, now isn't it? Get it?