John Stories Part II

John has been making plans to buy a motor home. He and Grammie (Jared's mom) discuss it at length. These two pictures are of a motor home he has designed.

I don't really understand this one except the truck is in front and it is hooked to the motor home. There are two windows in the side, and a trunk hooked behind. Also I like the sky ("ski").

This is the cross-section view of the motor home. It is pretty self explanatory. I love how Grammie is snoozing on the bed above the cab of the truck. He tried to draw a table and benches that fold out into a bed. I also like his picture of Kitty.

John Stories Part I

I have always loved children's artwork. I love my children's artwork even more. John has become quite the little author and has been illustrating his verbal stories for me.

I love that we finally got a scanner so I can immortalize these pictures with their accompanying stories.

This is a picture of a skeleton and a yo-yo. You can make up your own story-- I just like skeleton's ribs,knee caps, cheek bones and teeth.

This is a trip our family will take to Castlewood Canyon this summer in our new motor home (Jared and his mom, aka "Grammie", have been planting the motor home seed for a while, there are no real plans to buy one). Daddy will fish, John will hike and do some rock climbing, and Grammie and Kitty will walk around. Notice I am conspicuously absent... although he did tell me there is a cave where Indians used to live, maybe I'm in there.



This is a story about a secret room in our house that John discovers when he reclines in Daddy's chair. He slides back and falls down a passage to the room that is dark and filled with skeletons, bones, and mummies. He takes a skeleton back with him and gives it to Daddy who is grossed out and throws it in the trash. John retrieves it from the trash, cleans it off, and displays it in his room.

A heavy dose of the blahs.

It all started when I saw the weather forecast this morning. No real sun or warmth for the next 7 days. This is why I hate March. It always fools me. I've lived in Colorado for most of my life you would think I would be adjusted to the seasonal indecision that is spring. It throws me every time and here I am trying to deal.

We went to Chick-fil-a to get out of the house.

Just when I think I can take John to a play place he proves me wrong.

I am so tired. Tired and confused.

It's difficult when the line of what is socially acceptable and what is worth the fight becomes blurred. I know it's not right but I am tired and wish that someday it would be ok for two kids to just duke it out and get on with it. Instead we feel the need to get involved, say mean things to other people's children (John and I are usually on the receiving end) and make everyone more angry, sad, and upset.

I do not condone violence, but unfortunately I produced a son that has difficulty figuring out anything different. I hate that he gets frustrated and hurts others. I wish he wouldn't. Bogda says he just acts the way everyone wants to but knows that they can't. She loves that about him.

I call it a lack of impulse control and I worry because you don't get through life very easily without learning the art of impulse control.

Today he was provoked. Even after the incident the girl was provoking him by sticking out her tongue at him through the window. Her parents were oblivious to her behavior, but not to John's reaction. Don't get me wrong, there are instances where his behavior goes unprovoked, but at least today I could understand his anger.

I don't know what to do with this 5 year old that looks like an 8 year old with the impulse control of a 2 year old.

I just wish some parents wouldn't flip out... it makes me sad because I'm doing the best I can.

In it for the long haul

I knew the snow was coming this morning despite the blue sky at 8 am.

I knew, not because the meteorologists predicted it (they were actually right this time), but because Jared started scurrying around at 4 am.

He works nights, so it is not uncommon for him to be up in the night going to Wal*Mart, but this morning was different. He was behaving as if we would be shut in for a month.

He went and filled up the truck, the car, AND the propane tank.

He went to the grocery store and stocked up on meat, vegetables, and hot dogs.

He went to Wal*Mart and purchased games, toys, and a movie for the kids. He even got them a snow brick maker.

When he finally returned home (still blue skies) he insisted in driving everyone to John's dental appointment in Highlands Ranch. He insisted after I refused to cancel the appointment based on the mere "possibility" of snow.

When he saw a squirrel digging through the snow for food, he ran out and left a pile of squirrel food on the bird bath for him.

The barometer triggered Jared's survival instinct and he responded.

Meanwhile, the barometer plays it's tricks on me too. Being snowed in makes me feel homey and I always try my hand at domesticity. Thanks to my friend Stacey, I made cinnamon rolls for the first time. They turned out soooo good! I've had four.

I felt like a good mother because I let John and Kitty drink hot chocolate after they came in from the sub-zero blizzard. Kitty said, "If I was the mom I would make hot chocolate too."

Especially in this economy...

I know the economy sucks. I know it is going to get worse. These things bother me all the time.

I've been feeling a need to record my take on the "economic crisis" so I can look back at it and say:
"Oh, that wasn't so bad"
or
"Wow, remember when we had to darn our socks because no one could afford new ones?"

But really all I want to say is that if you want to turn an otherwise light-hearted conversation somber, just add "especially in this economy" to the end of your remarks. Instant downer and conversation stopper.

Totally opposite of the fun "in the bathtub" game. You just open any church hymnal and add "in the bathtub" to the title of the song. Instant humor and innocent irreverence-- I love it.

A little avocado.

So the cupboard turned out a little more avocado than I expected.

It hearkens back to the 70s roots of this house... maybe an orange shag rug should be the next addition (especially in the bathroom!).

I still like it... I think.

That's the benefit of having a 30 year old house, you can paint the original woodwork and not really worry about ruining it. I mean, I don't think fake dark brown particle board woodwork will ever be in high demand again. In case you're curious, it was painted white when we moved in, or else I would have painted it long ago.

Jared hasn't said anything yet-- either he likes it, or knows better than to criticize.

Don't worry, he'll think of something soon enough.

Shhh....

Don't tell Jared.

I'm painting the cupboard in the kids bathroom bright green.

He's gonna freak.

Perception

We went swimming today since John was out of school. As I was sitting there observing the other families I realized something about myself. Here it is:

When I pack a lunch for my kids for the park or the pool I don't necessarily pack it for them, I pack it for other moms to look at and think I am a great mother.

At least sometimes I do. There have been times (like today) when I forget that other people will notice what my kids are eating and I pack candy and Cheetos.

I looked around and felt a pang of regret as I noticed the trim, fit mother of three pull out oranges and carrot sticks for her children. But then I thought, perhaps she does the same thing and only packs the healthy stuff when she knows people might notice.

I like to think all those moms have cupboards full of cookies, cupcakes, chips, and soda.

Or maybe it's just me.

The Happiest Place on Earth... unless...

Can you sense the excitement?

Unless you try to go the same day you get up at 4 am to catch a two hour flight,

struggle through the airport,

ride the shuttle,

wait at least an hour for the rental car,

cram into the rental,

stop for an emergency hot dog,

argue about which freeway combination would be the best route at this time of day,

drive-thru one more time for the people who did not need the emergency hot dog,

finally arrive,

pay $12 to park,

spend another 30 minutes in a traffic jam in the parking structure,

ride the tram to the park,

get in the slowest moving ticket line,

and then another to rent the stroller.

Then, and only then, did the fun begin.

Some pictures of the quickest trip to Disney Land on record...

Kitty was feeling a little shy to go see Minnie Mouse

It helped to have daddy there too.

At first I didn't know who she was, but Kitty quickly said, "It's the fairy godmother!"

John and Sandy on the bumper cars at Bug's World, California Adventure

Jared loves his chainsaw.
He loves to trim and cut down entire trees.
He does not love to clean up afterwards.

After one particularly bad autumn snow storm we had to cut down four trees in our backyard. It took until the following spring to get rid of all the branches. I was beside myself. I even threatened to call in reinforcements from church. That didn't motivate him to get the branches out of the yard, it just made him mad.
What finally got us moving at break-neck speed to get rid of all the branches, trunks, etc? The city sent around a truck to collect everything on one day only (see, we weren't the only one's who lost trees in the storm).

If it hadn't been for the city, Bogda would surely be whittling away at our outrageous wood stockpile. Come to think of it-- she was there that day stealing kindling for her fire.

The point is that Jared cut down the Russian Olive in our front yard on one of his chainsaw escapades. I hated that tree, it was scraggly and trashy. We got the wood cleared rather quickly for some reason I can't remember, but the stump stayed exposed for all the world to see. I hated that stump.

Bogda hated that stump.

So one day we got to work with our pick-axes digging around it. We worked for months hacking away at the roots of that stump. We couldn't get even a slight budge from that firmly rooted beast.

Some days I would come home to find her in my yard working on the stump. On a particular day when we had both worked on it (Bogda more than me), I took a break and ran to get some milk or something from the store.

Upon my return my car was met by all the neighborhood kids cheering and shouting. I rolled down the window and they told me she had done it! Bogda got it out!

I pulled in to see that not only had she worked the stump loose, but she had rolled it up the hill.

This is my quintessential Bogda story. I joke with the neighbors about how she lifted my stump out with one hand and threw it up the hill.

And so it goes...

These are Bogda's kids (flanked by mine) on the first day of school.

WARNING: If you are sick of my stories about my neighbor stop reading now.

I've been feeling a little guilty about my recent posts regarding Bogda and my bad attitude. I have decided that I have so many little "Bogda Stories" crammed into my brain that I need to let a few out. Mostly just because she is the biggest, best character I have ever met.

I met Bogda within days of moving in. I was unloading something from the car with my mom and she came rushing over to introduce herself. Her hair was unkempt and pulled back in a haphazard pony, she was wearing a tight, short-waisted sweater and some old jeans with the top button open. I could smell the stale cigarette smoke even before her voice betrayed her habit. I could hardly understand what she was saying, her accent was so thick.

As time went on I saw her working in her driveway almost daily. Her kids would play all day while she worked with a hatchet and a cigarette.

I didn't know what she was doing at the time. I now know that she was cleaning, cutting and stacking wood to burn. Bogda's house is one of a few on our block with only electric heat. She is the only one on the block chopping wood on a regular basis. She has a wood stove that will heat the entire house.

In fact, people bring her their yard scraps, old pallets, or anything else they think she might burn. She never turns anything away.

Jared trimmed our gigantic Blue Spruce shortly after we moved in and Bogda asked if she could take the branches. I thought she was going to take them to the dump, but in less than an hour she quietly hauled it all away. I didn't even see her come.

Someday I'll get a picture of her, I just have to figure it out. I also need to get a picture of her hands, they are the biggest, hardest hands you will ever see.

P.S. I tried numerous times to reformat this post with no luck. Sometimes I have too many hard returns and then there are times like this when everything jams together. So frustrating!

One more...

Based on some of the comments, I decided to write one last story about Bogda (for at least 2 days).

Contrary to popular belief, I did, in fact, give her a Book of Mormon. I told the missionaries if they were looking for something to do they could find me a Polish language one to give to her. A few weeks later they handed it to me with smiles of anticipation beaming across their faces.

I delivered it before Christmas. She was on the phone. I handed it to her, we both laughed, and I went home. I know, not the most spiritual exchange, but you take what you get.

A few days later I went over to visit and I saw that the book was open on the table. Surprised, I asked if she was reading it.

"Of course, you don't get book and not read."
"What do you think?"

She liked it better than the Bible; it was easier to read and understand.

"But why they ruin it with chopping guy's head off?"

She couldn't get past the killing of Laban. I tried to explain why it was for the greater good, but she was disgusted that God (who wrote the Ten Commandments) would order someone to murder. Apparently, this is a similar issue she has with the Bible.

End of discussion.