Stats

Between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm last Thursday, Truman asked me "why?" 68 times.

Caleb takes a few steps at a time now, with the current record holding steady at 7.

Truman has tipped over the Christmas tree twice this season.

I have found Caleb standing on top of the toilet seat three times in the last few days. (The kid can climb!)

The earliest that Truman has woken me up this week asking for his chocolate (the little waxy kind that comes out of the advent calendar) is 5:23 am. Let me tell you how long the day gets when the boy is asking every three minutes or so from 5:23 am whether it's the next day yet so he can have his next chocolate...

Caleb has tried four times in the last hour to wake up a sleeping Truman on the couch (mostly by sticking his finger up Truman's nose). And given the wailing coming from upstairs, I guess he finally succeeded.

Happy Halloween

...and may The Force be with you.

Payoffs Part II

The important questions:
"Mom, what sport are you gonna be when you're gonna be a player? If the football guys hit you in the face, do they have to have a time out?"

"When you were a big boy and I'm was a mommy, could you not break the slide?"

"Wuh...wuh...wuh...woot beer. Mom, does woot beer start with a W?"

"Where's daddy's machine for his face [electric razor]? I'm just gonna use it to get the pokeys off your leg, okay Mom?"

"Who just puts gas in my diaper?"

"Do you want to help me finish my ice cream juice [melted ice cream at the bottom of the bowl]?"

In his dreams:
"You hath to wear a cape or you can't fly when you're Supermom in your dreams."

"There was a voice in my blue dream."

"Mom, in my dream you were playing a game and the robot taked your hand. I think he doesn't like arms on people."

"In my bad dreams, I'm was shooting a gun and I shooted my head off and my arms."

Trumanisms:
"To infinilly and beyond!"
"lellipop"
"It's my turn to sing the prayer."
"Light Me a Queen" (Lightning McQueen)

How could I possibly keep this stuff to myself?

The Up Side of the Flu

And you thought there WAS no upside to the stomach flu (other than the up-chucking part, which we also had...) but here's why this bout really could have been worse:

1) Matt came home from work early yesterday and stayed home again today, so I've seen more of my husband in the last 36 hours than in the last three weeks combined.

2) The total bliss of feeling normal again after only 12 hours of wanting to turn myself inside out.

3) Little Caesar's and donuts for dinner tonight - after all, I was still too weak to cook, and we were trying to make up for lost calories.

4) I could no longer avoid washing Truman's sheets. And blankets. And dust ruffle. And carpet.

5) Matt's virtual golf swing is really showing some improvement, thanks to Tiger Woods 2011 for the Wii.

6) Caleb didn't get sick. At least, we don't think he did. He never threw up, anyway.

7) Something to blog about.

Payoffs

There is something really satisfying about knowing that I have kept my older child alive for more than three years to have him say things like this:

"I don't like these grapes." Why not? "Because they are so good for me."

"What happens if you don't have any fingers? How do you play the piano? You use your body? Or your toes? That would be SO HARD!"

"What happens if [this is a recurring theme] you...
...go too many places?"
...eat your cereal all gone?"
...go downstairs?"
...turn off the TV?" [Do these questions even have answers? Is he trying to drive me nuts?]

"Hey Mom, guess what? What's your name Brittany?" Brittany. "Oh. Hey Mom, guess what? What's your name Brittany?" Brittany "Oh. Hey Mom, guess what? What's your name Brittany?" Grrrrrr.....

"Please bless us to not do dangerous things..."

"When I'm was born, there was a giant tomato. Giant tomatoes are just a little bit scary."

When Mommy felt a sharp pain in her leg while doing her makeup: "I'm just pulling hairs out of your leg."

Mommy: "Do you have your shoes on yet?"
Truman: "I don't think so. I just have toes and feet."

"The whale didn't eat the chef. But it did eat Jonah. And then the whale spit him back out again. But not the chef."

At 4 in the morning: "Mom? Mom?! MOM! Does the doctor doesn't live at the cavin [cabin]?"


And this is just a small sampling. Ah yes, that's my boy.

Spinning Plates

Last night when Matt came home, I told him my new system for housecleaning: clean whatever is bugging you the most at the moment. He agreed and told me an analogy he heard twice in his Seminary inservice yesterday (two witnesses, right?), originally shared by Boyd K. Packer. When asked how we can possibly do all that is required of us given limited time in our lives, President Packer replied that we should think of ourselves as the plate-spinning guy at the circus. Which plate does he spin? The one that needs spinning. And what if we find that we're doing the best we can but there are still plates crashing to the floor? Too many plates!

Clearly, I shattered the 'blogging plate' about three months ago, and I'm okay with that.

Easter

Since I never watch the news, the weather always takes me by surprise. So I had no idea that it would be snowing today and that Truman and I would be going stir-crazy looking for things to do. Enter our rescue: this cooking blog, newly purchased cake pans (from ye olde Deseret Industries, no less), and a little boy just begging to lick the beaters, and voila! Cute AND delicious, if I do say so myself. Thanks for the idea, Alicia!

Good thing I snapped this picture when I did, because by the time I got back to the kitchen after putting away the camera, Truman had licked (yes, licked) the nose off of our bunny.

I do sort of hate the fact that Easter is so overly-commercialized, completely about bunnies and chicks without even a teeny mention of why it's a holiday. At least at Christmastime, the world as a whole seems to talk about 'peace on earth, goodwill to men.' Easter has become more about the division between those who love and those who hate marshmallow Peeps. (For the record: hate. Sorry, Alicia.)

But in all seriousness, at church last Sunday I heard a powerful testimony about the reality of the Resurrection, and I felt it. I know that Christ was literally resurrected and that because He was, I will be too. As the Primary song says:

And there were nail prints in His hands
And a spear wound in His side
Did Jesus really live again
After He had died?
Oh yes! And so shall I!

And that's a gift worth celebrating at this Easter season - a time of new life, seen in bunnies and chicks; growth on the trees and in ourselves; rebirth for the individual and for all mankind.

On gas, Nancy Pelosi and sugar highs

For the record, the answer was D. And yes, I did have all those dreams in one night.

So I hear people complaining about a lot of things these days (not the least of which is the health care law - did we all hear Nancy Pelosi say "we have to pass the bill so we can see what's in it!"?? *choke*GAG*), but I rarely hear anyone talking about gas prices anymore. Except me. Remember when we were all in a dither about gas at $2 a gallon? And then we thought we had seen the worst when it topped $3? And how we ACTUALLY STARTED DRIVING LESS once it rocketed to $4? And those glorious few moments when it dropped down to a buck fifty?

When I passed my local gas station two weeks ago, gas was $2.67 a gallon. Last week it was $2.79. This week, $2.89. Frankly, I'm starting to panic, and I'm beginning to wonder if health care is just a magician's diversion to keep me from noticing when I have to literally start lighting hundred-dollar bills on fire to keep my car running. Anyone? Anyone?

***
Yesterday I was taking a much-needed morning nap when Truman came in (as he does every four minutes when I am trying to nap) and announced "My hands are all sticky." The child was covered head-to-toe in sugar. Crystallized to his pants and hands and face by saliva, forming a glistening goatee. The picture doesn't do it justice. And he was SO pleased with himself, because all he ever wants is to eat sugar straight out of the bucket. A dream fulfilled.



And just because they are adorable (and I so rarely post pictures), my BYU boys. Even if the Cougs did lose...

Multiple Choice

Last night, which of the following was I doing?

a) Frantically swimming around in a pool filled with dead seals and live sharks, where I lost my watch but found a toy boat;

b) Enjoying being a member of 24's CTU, pursuing terrorists through elevator shafts with none other than Jack Bauer, an old work friend, and a girl I haven't seen since elementary school (all of whom were talking in code and carrying really ridiculously-oversized lollipops);

c) Working with a team of big-wig scientists scrambling to create a contraption that would allow us to decipher the vibrations coming from a large boulder in South Africa - which, when completed and tested, revealed that the vibrations were saying "iniquity" and therefore an indication that the Second Coming was upon us, as Earth herself was bemoaning the iniquitous state of the human race;

d) all of the above.

Posts I haven't written...

...nor do I have any intention of writing. I'll leave the contents of the following-titled posts to your imagination:

Keep Out of Reach of Children

Stuff I Hate

"C'mon Pooh Bear, show 'em what you're made of!" "Fluff?"

Happy International Women's Day (a shout out and thank you to Rob)

You Don't Know What You Got Till It's Gone...to St. George on a Snowy Weekend

Dreamin' Disney

I Could Have Told You That For FREE

The Night Shift

8:15 pm. Both boys are asleep. It's a Christmas miracle.

8:59 pm. Truman is awake, shouting and disoriented. Lie down next to him for a few minutes until he's calmed down.

10:00 pm. Pat yourself on the back for getting to bed at a decent hour.

10:17 pm. Truman is awake again, whimpering and calling for Mommy. Lie down next to him for a few minutes.

10:20 pm. Return to bed.

12:45 am. Baby is awake. Feed him and put him back to bed. Emerge from the nursery to find Truman coming out of his room, having peed out the side of his diaper (they're a little too big, but the size smaller is too small!). Change Truman's diaper and pants, lay a towel in his bed. Lie down next to him for a few minutes.

1:09 am. Return to bed.

1:22 am. Truman is opening and closing his door over and over again. Lie down with him for one minute, give a big hug and tell him to go back to sleep.

1:25 am. Return to bed.

1:30 am. Truman climbs into bed with you, a fact of which you are only vaguely aware and too tired to refuse.

2:45 am. Baby is awake and may think he's hungry; try to feed him and receive angry wails of protest along with little bursts of him passing gas, which seems to help ease the wailing. Coax him back to sleep.

3:01 am. Return to bed, sliding Truman a little to one side and Matt to the other so you can sleep in the middle, right where they want you.

3:56 am. Baby is awake again, not hungry, just angry. He doesn't need changing. More gas passed. More soothing.

4:10 am. Return to bed and find that Truman and Matt have effectively taken up all the room on the bed, even with your shoving them around. Carefully remove Truman back to his own bed.

4:11 am. Return to bed.

4:12 am. Husband is snoring lightly.

4:13 am. Gently wake husband and tell him to roll over.

4:22 am. Still can't get back to sleep. Start dozing and commence dreams about 1) being naked in front of masses of people gathered in your parents' basement, and 2) being forced to enter an amusement park where you have to purchase a cow or face death AND watch an interactive movie about people who are severely disfigured, complete with movie-goers throwing cooked spaghetti.

5 am. Husband's alarm goes off for what feels like a long time. Husband must turn it off and get out of bed at some point, but you are too tired to notice when.

5:30 am. Husband turns on shower.

5:39 am. Baby awake again and actually hungry this time. Feed him. Emerge from nursery to find Truman peeking out the crack in his door. He won't let you in his room. Shrug and make your way to the lighted kitchen to give husband a kiss goodbye and complain bitterly about your night before trying Truman's door again. This time he lets you in. "Want to come sleep in mommy's bed?" "Um...yeah!"

5:53 am. Return to bed. Pray Truman goes back to sleep. Let him rip your hair from your scalp as he winds it around his hands trying to get back to sleep. Commence dreams about your children being kidnapped from the BYU library and being thrown off of high places. Awake in a panic. Doze until the blessed hour of 7:22 am, and awake amazed that Truman has done the same. Decide it wasn't such a bad night after all.