Giving Pause

A couple of Sundays ago, T-- decided to bring Tootie Fruities (or "Fruitie Tooties," as he calls them) to church for his "snack." In the middle of sacrament meeting, T-- started rubbing one of the cereal pieces all over his face and then tried to rub one on my face as well. I couldn't figure out what he was trying to do. Then he leaned up to my ear and whispered, "Smew my face, Mom!" Um, what? He repeated it. Ohhhh...SMELL my face. Ah. Got it. "Okay," I said, still a bit confused, and sniffed his cheek. "Does it smew wike Fruitie Tooties?" And, lo and behold, it did! Do they make Tootie Fruitie cologne for 5-year-old boys? Because T-- would be all over it.


Last night, about half an hour after A-- was supposed to be in bed, he comes running out of his room, all excited. "MOM! MOM! LOOK!!!! I solved it!" He had a Rubik's cube, completely solved. He'd been reading a book that Phil gave him on how to solve the cube (without taking it apart, which is how I always solved them) and he got it! I was so impressed! I never could figure those things out. Even more proof that A-- is waaaaay too smart for his own good (or, rather, for my own sanity). What a great kid.


During one of his violin lessons a few years ago, S-- came across a fermata. He got all excited and said, "Oh! I know what that is!! It's a one-eyed penguin!" To that point, I'd never really seen his teacher laugh much (she's very shy), but she was nearly weeping with mirth that day. It made my whole week. And every time I see a fermata, I will think of S-- and his sense of humor.


All these things remind me that I need to pause occasionally and just enjoy my children for who they are, to really live in the moment and love what is happening now, rather than hope for better times to come. Even if these things aren't "funny" to someone else, they made me laugh. I need to do that more often.

On that note, what better person to remind us to embrace the moment than Nie Nie? Go bid on some sweet stuff in preparation for the benefit concert for her family.

Must Be Genetic Part 2

I had to look back in my archives to make sure I hadn't already told these stories in this post. Fortunately, they weren't there, so we're clear.


Several years back, my mother's side of the family had a reunion in Star Valley, Wyoming, where my grandparents raised all of their children. My Uncle Lloyd was, at the time, still running the ranch. My mom decided she wanted to take some of her grandchildren out for a tour of the ranch. While walking along, pointing out the sites, Mom said, "See those animals over there? Those are boy cows. You call them bulls. Now, see these things on the ground? These are called little bullsh!ts."




When my sister was about 3 years old, Dad overheard her expressing her frustrations over a broken doll thus: "Hells bells, Matilda! Can't you fix this?"

Dad asked, "Now where in the world did she learn that kind of language, Leah?"

Mom was curiously silent as she washed up the dishes....



And one of my own, that I know I've told many of you already:

When A-- was about 2 or so, Phil was called to be a Ward Clerk in our church. He needed to be set apart, which they wanted to do in a very tiny office in the building. After our church meetings ended, we went to the designated room. Phil and the two men who were assigned to set him apart took their places. I sat on a chair, holding A-- in my lap. During the middle of the process, right when things were quiet, A-- dropped his sippy cup. Imagine my horror when he said, "THHHit! Thit, thit, thit!" (He had a lisp.)

I quickly revised my at-home vocabulary. But A-- had (still does) a long memory for things we don't want him to recall, and the next time I dropped something at home and said "shoot," A-- piped up and said, "Mommy, you uthed to thay thit! But now you thay thoot!" Yes, thank you, son, for remembering my faults and shortcomings. Lovely.



And now you know the rest of the story...or at least parts of it.

Must Be Genetic

I took my mom shopping for a couple of hours today. While in the car, she asked if she had ever told me the milking story about her grandparents. It wasn't one I could recall, so I asked her to repeat it.

Not long after her grandparents were married, they were out in the barn. Feisty little Grandma had just finished milking the cow when the cow kicked the bucket over and spilled all the milk. She was pretty upset and said, "Why, you dirty bit@#!"

Grandpa, who was very mild-mannered and kind, replied, "Now there, Hattie, I thought you knew the difference between a cow and a dog!"

Putting the Drag in Dragon

T-- got a Christmas gift from his friend. It was one of those fizzy egg things that dissolved to reveal a little toy dragon. T-- was so excited! We got the warm water ready in a bowl and dropped the egg in. The fizzing brought excitement (on T--'s part) but also added the smell of cheap soap to the air. Ugh.

Eventually, the dragon was revealed. I rinsed off the nasty soap stuff and started putting the wings and tail on. As I looked at the dragon legs, I said, "Wait a minute. They put a back leg on as a front leg. This can't possibly be right!"


Then I took another look. And another. And I suddenly realized that I was holding Puff the effeminate dragon. Yes, our dragon was a drag queen.



Awesome.