Happy Birthday David!

Ever since I have known Dave, he has always complained about his birthday being the day after Christmas. He says that his family always just kept out one of his Christmas presents and gave it to him the next day. I have tried to make his birthdays a little different every year, but truth be told, I usually end up keeping one of his Christmas presents out and giving it to him the next day.

This year I discovered that one of my friends, is a cake artist. Without consideration of my entire family staying at our house over the holidays, or our pre-pre-pubescent boys, I ordered a sweet cake for his surprise.

It was a success, and totally worth posing in my camo bikini for 3 hours while Heather crafted a perfect likeness of me into sugar porn.

Christmas Day

We had an awesome Christmas. It was so fun to have my family around for the holidays. The kids had a great time opening presents and were happy with the stuff they got, even though we fell short on the booby traps, magic, and other various weaponry.

It was a very relaxing day filled with naps, and Wii, and Karaoke, and my personal favorite, The Office. My grandma really liked watching, The Office, and admitted to having a crush on Jim.



Emma got a doll with some doll size accessories, but that didn't stop her from kicking the doll to the curb, and trying to force her enormous body into the high chair, stroller, and play pen. At one point during the gift opening, we went looking for a pair of pipe cutters, to free her from the high chair, but my dad managed to get her out without any damage. She then just folded herself into the tiny play pen, and that is where she stayed all day. Every time I tried to remind her that it was the doll's bed she would squint at me and say, "No! Emma's bed!"

We Put The Fun in Fundue.

Christmas is so much more fun now that our kids get really into it. They opened their p.j.'s and managed to sit a nanosecond for a picture in front of the tree.


The Santa that comes to our house must have Mountain Dew and Fudge Covered Oreos before leaving any presents.




Every Christmas Eve since I can remember, we have a fondue dinner. This year was no different other than we got to share it with my entire family. It was a great night filled with steak, and cheese, and fudge covered cream puffs.

We had to come home early from our little Christmas shopping trip due to Dylan having a terrible bout of croup. So today I headed to Wal-Mart to finish up a little shopping. I had Dyl and Emma with me, which is the perfect for Christmas shopping. I picked up a gift for Emma and let her play with it throughout the store, and she will still be surprised Christmas morning.
Dylan is a lot like me. Easily distracted, and doesn't care to know more about anything than he absolutely needs to. I bought several things for him while he was hanging on the side of the cart. A couple of times he asked me who the presents were for, and I just said, "a needy family." And then he was on to something else. He picked up a Cars tool box thing and really scrutinized it. He asked me to help him remember to write it down on his Christmas list, because he really liked it. I agreed then said, "Hey, look at that Santa." He looked and I stuffed the toy down into the cart. A little while later, he noticed the toy in the cart and asked me who it was for. I told him, the same needy family, and he looked at me funny. Finally he said, "Oh, they will really like that." I was glad to finish up the shopping, and was glad to know that he will still be surprised on Christmas morning.

Indirect Approach

This morning Dyl and I were headed into town, when to my pleasant surprise I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror. I pulled over, got all my documents ready, rolled down the window, and assumed the position. Dylan realized what was happening and started to holler, "I smell bacon, I smell bacon!" That would be a total bad on my part, and have since educated my children on the appropriate way to alert me to possible law enforcement. When the cop walked up to my window, he was extremely nice, and joked with me about what a nice day it was. He asked me if I had ever had a ticket, I answered in the affirmative. He asked me when I had my ticket, and I said I didn't remember exactly, but it had been in the last year. He then asked me for just my license and proof of insurance, which was a good sign. He wanted to know if I had more that one ticket, and I said, "I don't think so." He smiled, and started to walk back to his car. I leaned out the window and said, "Officer, I might have had two this year."
After a very long time, he reappeared at my window, and gave me the official update, that I have actually had 3 speeding tickets in the last 6 months. I was a little surprised, and asked if that counted the one I was getting from him. He said that obviously I wasn't learning from the tickets, so he was going to try the "indirect approach" and give me a warning. I gave him a "God bless you," and crept along with the posted speed limit all day long. I think I have learned my lesson.

Today is my 10th wedding anniversary. My heart is to full to adequately express how happy my sweet husband makes me, but he knows.

The first weekend in December, we always have a little Anniversary/Christmas Shopping getaway. This morning I helped the kids with their Christmas lists so that if we bumped into the big man, we could show him what they wanted. Santa is a little boring at our house. He generally brings the low interest items such as clothes and small toys. Dave and I take credit for the big ticket items so that we, #1, Rock. #2 Don't hear the bullcrap about us not being the boss of the toy, because Santa bought it, and #3 because we fricking bought it, not Santa.
This Christmas, I am afraid we might have some dissapointed children. Topping off the lists were, booby traps for Dylan, and "magic" for Dawson, but he said he would settle for a rifle, (over my dead body), or an IPOD. Emma is just going to get some extra vaccinations, so that she can continue to safely lug around her moose, which I swear is glowing green.
It should be a great time. The kids are so excited to have Aunt "ShannaHannah", stay with them. They are already counting how much junk they can fit into two days, and are actually using soap in the shower, so that all the temporary tatts will stay on better.

Lesson Learned

Ah, the Christmas season is upon us. I desperately want to have a heart warming December, and have been trying to come up with ways to show the boys the true meaning of Christmas. I must say that the December issue of the Ensign is especially touching. I swear, everytime I get off the crapper, I am crying. I hope this doesn't deter Emma from potty training, since the last several times she has come into the bathroom I am teary from reading Christmas stories.
Anyway, I have been meditating for inspiration on what I can do to help the boys get into the spirit of giving and looking for tangible opportunities to show them.
This afternoon, at the grocery store, we followed two elderly ladies out into the parking lot. They had two carts loaded high with groceries, so I pointed them out to Dawson, and to my excitement, he suggested we help them load their bags. I could already hear the Christmas Carols in my head, and got a warm feeling in my heart as we walked over to their car. The elderliest of the two women was already in the car, so we walked around to the other lady and offered to help her load her things. My warm feeling came to a screeching halt when she all but jabbed at us with her umbrella and said she could do it herself. Merry Christmas.

House Progress

After a nervous breakdown, we are getting closer to being done with our house. The outside of the house is almost complete. We have to leave the Hardy board striped until next summer, because they can't paint until it is 40 degrees overnight. That means in our area, it might be done by August.

Hulk Smash

Last night I gave in to the constant requests for Incredible Hulk, for movie night. Usually we try to screen the super hero movies, before the boys get to see them, but last night we all watched it together. Dylan was especially into it, and whenever the Hulk got mad, he kept saying, "He's so strong, he is incredible, he is so cool, he is very brave." It was like his own quiet little mantra, and he just kept repeating it to himself. In the first 5 minutes of the movie, he said that he changed his mind about going to the center of the earth, for his birthday, and would rather go where the Hulk lives. At the end of the movie, Hulk is fighting a different Hulk thing, and there is a lot of growling going on. I kept hearing something making noise, and could not figure out where it was coming from. As the noise got louder, I realized it was little Dyl. His hands were gripping the blanket, and he was growling. I don't think he even realized that he was doing it, until I started laughing hysterically, and his little trance was broken. When the movie ended, Dylan said it was the best show ever. After we tucked them in, and turned out the light, I could hear him whispering to himself, "Huuullllkkkk ssmmmaaassshhhhh!"

Sunday Serenity

Every Sunday, we lay in bed until the absolute last minute, and then scramble to get ready. We are generally 10 minutes late, and everyone is ornery with each other. Dawson and Dylan start arguing the second they wake up, about who gets to open the door at church.

It has become ridiculous, the amount of discussion that we spend on who gets to open the various doors of our lives. The second I put the car in park, both boys fly from the back, and scramble to be the one to open the door. Then, once out of the vehicle, they wrestle all the way to whatever the next door is.

Today, Dawson bolted out of the truck and beat Dyl to the door, even though it was Dylan's "turn," ...sigh. Dawson stood at the door, beaming with his fresh little face, as the little old ladies, walked in, thanking him. Dylan was in mass hysterics, and was yelling at Dawson to shut the door, so that he could open it. After a few graphic threats, Dave and I herded them to Primary, for a lovely two hour break.

After church, we couldn't find Dylan anywhere. I swear he disappeared during the prayer. We looked around the chapel a little, and then decided maybe he had headed out. I told Dave he had probably made a beeline for the door, which made Dawson walk a little quicker. When we rounded the corner, there he was, holding the door open, and smiling from ear to ear. Dawson ran straight past him, hollering about how he was going to open all the doors on the truck. Dylan took off for the truck, and when Dave and I made it outside, 3 of the doors on the truck were wide open and the boys were both hanging from the handle of the 4th door. We couldn't take it anymore, Dave and I shut all the doors, and then opened them ourselves, while the boys wailed. It was quite the spectacle. They were bawling, and arguing all the way home, and Dave and I were singing "Love At Home" in our loudest falsetto voices.

I can't wait for Monday.

Sibling Rivalry

Dawson's birthday was hard on Dylan. Whenever we talked about it, Dylan would bring up his birthday, (not until June) and all the fun stuff he wanted to do. He decided to top mini golf, with his plan of going under the earth to get some hot lava.

Tonight, I got Journey to the Center of the Earth, for movie night. The boys both loved it, and Dylan kept saying, "Oh yeah, that's where I am going for my birthday." The gloating continued after they got in bed, and I could hear them arguing back and forth with each other about dinosaurs and electric birds. We just turned the t.v. up really loud and left them to sort it out.

I am going private due to some freaks who post menacing comments, you know who you are. The problem is I don't know who you are. Anyway, I would love to have any normal people continue to read the blog. If for some reason I can't figure out how to add you as a reader, email me at linsey@allwest.net. Peace out.

Holy Birthday Weekend

I'm not sure when birthday celebrations turned into a 3 day affair, but that is what we had this weekend. My sweet little Dawson turned six today, and I have been reminiscing about him. I had a few years of fertility trouble before we got Dawson, and I desperately wanted him. Those were the longest 9 months of my life, waiting for him. I was pleasantly surprised when I went into labor a couple of days before my due date, and had such an awesome kid.

He is an incredible boy. He is so smart, and has a sweet, sensitive heart. I love his sense of humor, and the way he tries to always make us laugh. I am amazed at all the things he knows, and how fast he learns. I am so grateful for the opportunity to love him, and feel his love for me, despite my imperfections.

Saturday, we told Dawson that he could choose what we did for the day. He wanted to go miniature golfing and eat steak, salmon, and shrimp. The first part sounded alright to me, but the dinner sounded like Golden Corral. I freaking hate buffet style restaurants, but the kid loves them. Initially, when I asked him where he wanted to eat, he said, "Don Pedros, " which is my favorite place. I got a little teary, because he chose it for me, but then I told him to choose where he wanted to eat. I got really teary, when he said Golden Corral. I hate that place because it smells like urine and I don't necessarily like having to throw an elbow to get a scoop of potatoes, or box out 10 enormous people for the last corn on the cob. I went with a smile though, and Dawson loved his dinner.

After dinner we headed to Trafalga for some miniature golf. I haven't done that since I was dating Dave, and I have to say it is a lot different with kids. On the first hole, we all went in order from smallest to biggest, and everyone went in turn. On the second hole, it was a little less orderly, and by the 5th hole it was pandemonium. Nobody knew whose ball belonged to who, and there were mini clubs swinging all over the place. When she wasn't sprawled out on the green, Emma was running around picking up our balls, and putting them in the hole. Towards the 8th hole, Dave and I started awarding points to each other depending on how many of our children we could bounce the ball off of. It was great fun for our family, and I think we did our part to promote birth control for all the young couples trying to golf around us.

Sunday night we had a dinner party with all of our family. We are so lucky to have some pretty awesome family living close by.

Today, I dropped some treats off at school, and I officially have a six year-old.

Halloween

Emma was a monkey, but picked up on Dylan growling all the time. She ended up being a growling monkey.


Dylan was Incredible Hulk, and loved it. He wore his costume everyday for a week.


Dawson was a Ninja, mostly because he wanted a sword. At the bus stop, some of the older boys told him that the part of his costume that hung between his legs, was a "wiener protector."



Heading out to trunk r' treat.

Room Mutha

Having my first child in elementary school, I was naive and a little overwhelmed, when at Back To School Night, they shoved a million permission slips in my face. I just kept signing my name, so that my Kindergarten Baby could participate in whatever activity they were thrusting at us. In my haste, I was not perfectly clear on the Room Mother volunteers, so I checked the box, saying I would help. My version of help, would be sending a store-bought treat to school with my little man.

At Parent Teacher Conference last month, after a glowing report, his teacher, announced that I had been assigned the Halloween Party. Apparently, when I got the invitation to the "PTA Room Mother Tea," instead of laughing hysterically, I should have dressed in my best biker skank outfit and raised my pinkie with the other Room Mothers.

Today was the dreaded party. I almost threw up on the way to the school, but luckily, my awesome sister came up to help me, and she was very soothing. I had been stressing over whether to dress up or not, but after perusing my closet, Naughty Nurse, Naughty Highway Patrol, ect. I decided not to. I called two other mothers that I didn't know, to help with the party, and they of course showed up in costume. I didn't feel to bad though, because they blended in with the 10 other witch costumes.

The whole party was worth the stress when I walked into the classroom and saw Dawson light up. He kept saying, "That's my mom! That's my ShannaHannah!" I was glad to have him so proud of me. We spent the morning reading Halloween stories, doing crafts, playing games, and eating treats. He told me over and over what a sweet party I had thrown, and how much he loves me, and that is why I am proud to be a Room Mutha.

The boys love to scare me. At any given time, they will be hiding in my closet, or under the bed, anywhere they can jump out and scare me. Dylan especially likes to see me jump, and puts a little extra effort into it, by wearing his Mexican wrestling mask and Darth Vader costume. Lately, they have been setting traps for me as well. Sometimes I will come out of the bathroom and they have piled clothes, or blankets up at the door so that I will trip, or strategically placed toys around for me to step on.
Today, I could hear them giggling as I came out of my room, so I stepped over the blanket they had wadded up by my door, and laughing over my shoulder, I said, "You didn't get me that time, suckas!" I barely turned the corner, when I tripped over about 10 toy bins that they had stacked as a second trap. I could hear the little twerps laughing hysterically and slapping high fives, while I lay on the floor, nursing my wounds.
Tonight, we carved some pumpkins, and had a great time, but both boys know that I will get them back. I am just biding my time.

After a particularly harrowing bedtime rountine, Thursday night, Dave and I were laying in bed, contemplating our parenting skills. My throat was a little scratchy from yelling, and we were both feeling a little post-general conference guilt, when Dave said he was going to set a goal, not to yell at the kids for 1 week. Despite the pain in my throat, I still managed to laugh out loud. I said, I would be happy to join him in making a goal, but I wasn't about to set myself up for failure. After a little discussion, we settled on 2 days. Dave sweetened the pot, by throwing in dinner, at Don Pedros on Saturday night if we suceeded. I guess some people are motivated by just doing the right thing, we are motivated by nachos.
Friday morning, I awoke refreshed and ready for the challenge. I explained to the boys, that I wouldn't be yelling at them for a couple of days, and when Dawson asked what a goal was, I gave him a short little inservice, and advised that he might want to set a goal himself.
We met Hannah and her little charges for a playdate later that morning, and at one point I had to get after Dawson for something. When I started to talk to him, he said, "Mom, remember your goals." I had to explain to him that not yelling, is not the same as no consequences. I made it through the whole day Friday without yelling and Dave did well after he got home from work.
Saturday morning, we awoke to a blanket of snow, and two wound-up boys. Dave spent the first part of the day hunting, and by the time he got home, Dawson couldn't wait to meet him at the door, to report that I had not met my goal.
I got my nachos anyway, and now we are just taking it a day at a time.

The Long Arm of the Law

I am super pissed this morning. I can throw a rock and hit my babysitter's house, but I can't get there without getting a friggin' speeding ticket. Just last week I resolved a warrant for my arrest from a previous speeding ticket that I forgot to pay, and wouldn't you know it the same damn cop was sitting around the corner this morning. She was outside, leaned into the window of another damn cop, and I swear the second she saw my car, she turned around and started the most awkward, slow motion, hobble run to her car. They look so ridiculous when they run in all their gear. Seriously, I doubt that she needs her Kevlar vest, and steel-tipped boots, to run a speed trap on Main Street, Oakley. She made it to her car about the time I passed her. I figured I had three options, run her over, which would be bad, a high speed chase, (too many kids in the car,) or pull over. I pulled over immediately after she turned on her lights, but just for good measure, she flipped on her siren a couple of times. I was pretty pissed by the time she got to my window, but I kept my cool pretty well. She said that I was speeding through "town," which I think is a bit of a stretch, since apparently a double wide trailer on either side of the street, constitutes a "town." I handed over my information, a little relived that I finally got that warrant taken care of, so that she didn't put me up on the hood of the car, and pat me down in my scrubs, for my little hoodlums to see. As she was walking back to her car, Dawson starts in on me. "Ah freak, we got caught by the cops again." In reality, he has only been in the car with me once before, when I have been pulled over, but he talks as if it happens everyday.
The copper keeps us waiting forever, and Dawson will not leave me alone. "Mom you just have to look at the numbers on the sign, and then that's how fast you go. You need to slow your butt down, like Dad says. I sure hope I am not late for school. Blah, Blah...."
I don't necessarily want to sour my children on the Long Arm of the Law, so I let my anger play out in the form of a day dream in which I take the stinking ticket and hold it high in the air, as the little copper tries to jump in all her gear and grab it from me. Eventually, she gets mad and breaks out the bean bag gun, which I wrestle away from her, and have my way.
Instead I take the ticket, and wish her a happy rest of the day, while my middle finger twitches restlessly. I drop the kids' off at Brittany's, where Dawson is already talking a blue streak about his law breaking mother, it's no wonder his Kindergarten teacher wouldn't make eye contact at Parent Teacher Conference.
Obviously, deep down, I am aware that my anger at the fuzz, is actually just misplaced anger at myself, for not being able to follow rules. At this point in my life, I chose to not be self-enlightened, and this Christmas, I am going to ask Santa for a bean bag gun. I'll probably need one when they make me go to Defensive Driving School.

Whiskey Springs

We went hiking today at Whiskey Springs, and it was beautiful. The fall leaves are really brilliant right now, and the boys' love running around looking at all the different colors. The vegetation has really come back nicely since my brother and I started the mountainside on fire about 18 years ago. If I remember correctly, my little brother Jordan, took most of the blame, and did most of the community service. Who would have known that a nice fall picnic would have turned so smokey and expensive to the tax payers, all from a few lighted smoke bombs in the fall foliage.

Hannah brought the little boys, that she nannies for, and Emma was an absolute bully to the youngest boy. She would go up to him and wrap her arms around him and tackle him to the ground. She then pulled her shirt up over her belly, and was rubbing her belly in his face. The poor kid was just staring straight ahead, probably trying to find a happy place. All in all, it was a great day.

30

I'm no longer technically, "in my twenties." Whatever.
At this point, a birthday for me is really just a great excuse to have a weekend getaway with my love. A few things I learned this weekend about being 30.

At 30, even without kids, and with black-out curtains, I still can't sleep in longer than 9.

Little kids can sit and laugh and jump in the massaging chairs at RC Willey without any repercussions. However, if you are 30 and 32, and you spend 40 minutes laughing and moaning in the massage chairs, they will threaten to call the police.

At 30, I can afford a nice hotel.

Even though you might have turned 30, if some stupid girls stand in an open parking spot, to save for their friend's car, at the movies, you can still place your chewing gum under their driver's door handle with the same satisfaction that came in your twenties.


At 30, I am able to appreciate where I am in life. I am so grateful for the funny, super hot guy I am married to, and the great friend, lover, and husband he is to me. I am so smitten with each of my children, and proud of their individual personalities. I love my job, and my friends, and feel very lucky to "have it all," at the ripe young age of 30.

Damn Strep

The boys' have both been on antibiotics for Strep this week, which has been fairly miserable. This morning, Emma woke up screaming, and holding her neck, so we trekked over to Park City to see the Pediatrician. Our usual doctor wasn't available, so I was a little mortified by all the information that Dawson volunteered to the new Doctor. When the doctor came in and inquired about the reason for the visit, Dawson promptly said, "We can't get rid of the damn strep!"
I was a little relieved when the doctor laughed, and even more relieved, that Dawson didn't give her the direct quote. I shushed him, and the doctor started talking to Emma. She told Emma that she liked the little butterflies on Emma's hands, and Dawson immediately spoke up, "My mom has a huge tattoo on her boobo." Obviously, I don't get enough privacy for my morning shower.
Emma ended up having Strep too, but we got her all drugged up. Hell if I am staying home for my birthday weekend.

Mountain Church

Last night Dave and I hit the adult session of Stake Conference, after a delicious prime rib dinner. Initially, we wanted to go to a movie, but neither of us dared to be the one to say out loud, "Let's just go to a movie instead."
After dinner we pulled around to the back parking lot and changed into our church clothes, where I discovered that my skirt did not hide my sweet new tattoo, (I have developed a temporary tattoo addiction, that is getting more severe, the closer I get to 30.) We ended up having an enjoyable time at conference, which I attribute to not having kids with me, and also having a hilarious husband.

This morning I dared to speak the words, "Let's skip church and go for a ride in the mountains." I figured we wouldn't get anything out of church, since Stake Conference is always packed, and my chitlins tend to be a tad wild in church.
We had an incredible time in the mountains. We hiked around for awhile, and came across what I thought was a pipe bomb, hidden in the trees, but upon closer inspection, it was a Geo Cache. Even though we found it without a GPS, we still wrote our names on the roster. It was a beautiful day, and we had a great time with each other.

Kindergarten Cooties

Since Dawson started school last week, we have had a girl issue. The first part of last week, Dawson came home and told us a girl tried to kiss him on the bus. He was appropriately grossed out, and told his teacher, who lectured the class on the rules of the bus, (no kissing), and gave them a talk about being to young to swap spit.

On Thursday, he came home and reported that a big group of girls were chasing him, and he hid at the top of the rocket at recess. He said that he jumped down in the middle of them, and gave them all a "big squeal".

Today, he jumped off of the bus, and practically knocked me over with a big hug. He was so excited because he has found "the one". During the bus ride he said that she was making fun of him for sitting alone, after his buddy had been dropped off. Then she said, "Do you like me?" and Dawson said, "Do you like me?" Then she said, yes, and Dawson said yes. After this story, Dawson said, "Dang, I guess with all these girls liking me, I just keep getting handsomer, and handsomer."

Happy Birthday Jord

Hope you have a good day. I don't know if you are still reading, but if you are, Happy Birthday. I have been thinking about you a lot lately, I wish I knew how you are.

Nightmare on Girl Street

For pretty much Emma's whole first year, I was walking on clouds. I had never had such an easy, sweet tempered baby, who was sleeping through the nights, the first week. She is still an exceptional sleeper, and adapts well to change, but someone has unleashed the attitude in my sweet baby.At her well child check-up, I explained to the Doctor, that our house is completely run by a toddler. It is like we are all walking on egg shells around her. If I tell her "no" about something, she just scrunches up her face, and has a perfect, "I do what I want" look. She can completely hold her own with her big brothers. The other day, we went to lunch and she was constantly after my Diet Coke. She was squawking, and making a huge scene, so I just ordered her own damn Diet Coke. Dave and I just exchanged looks and said that we never would have done that with the boys, we would have taken turns bouncing them outside. We are both aware that we are in a lot of trouble. Maybe it is because she is a girl, maybe it is because she is our last, maybe it's because she is mostly Broadbent.

House Progress

We had a set back this week, when a storm came through and blew our walls over. However, our framer fixed the damage the next day, and now we are really moving. I am so over this rental house and can't wait to be in my new house.

Dylan's First Day of Preschool

Dyl had his first day of preschool today. He loved it, and is excited that his friend, Bentley is in his class. He loves recess, but his favorite part about school, is that he gets to skip his afternoon nap.

Sweet Little Dyl

Dylan is always trying to get me to give him "junk." He loves sugar, and soda, and is always bartering with me. This morning was no exception, so when I pulled into the Chevron to get a Diet Coke, this little exchange occurred:
Dyl, "I'll have a diet coke."
Me, laughing, "yeah right."
Dyl,"well, you shouldn't have sugar either."
Me, "Diet Coke doesn't have sugar."
Dyl, "Well, when I'm an a-dolt, I will buy me a Diet Coke and not you."
Me,"That's fine, I will still be an adult, and can buy myself a Diet Coke."
Dyl," Well, when you are old, I am not going to take care of you. I will put you in a bad home with strangers."
He is only 4, but I totally believe him. I need to seriously suck up to Dawson.

Things didn't get much better this afternoon. We have all liked renting this house across from the new Diner, and enjoyed the people watching. Dave and I were in the kitchen, mass producing BLT's for dinner, when Dawson came in to report that Dyl was out on the trampoline, yelling to the bikers', "Sweet hog, Dude!" and then turning around and pulling his pants down, to moon them. I am glad that Dave could keep a straight face, for the discipline, because it's not funny. "It's NOT funny, Linsey!"

"TIMBERRRRR!"

This morning, I should have known it was going to be a bad day, when I was assigned to the Khaki Pod at work.(Also known as the shit pod.)But it started out decent, as I had time to put my bag away, put on my nursey paraphernalia, and hit Starbucks, before any major drama started. I started out with only 2 patients, which was nice, and I checked my e-mail, and chatted with some co-workers for a bit, and then my radio went off, and a tech informed me he was putting a new patient in my pod. I checked the computer and saw that my new patient's chief complaint was a Priapism. For anyone not familiar with that term, it is a prolonged erection, requiring terrible things to make it better, i.e, needles, scalpels, surgery... Anyway, I followed the poor guy, and the tech into the room, and when the patient turned around, I introduced myself as the nurse that would be taking care of him today. A strange look came over his face, and he started to pat his genitalia, and then he said, "I think it is starting to go down." He stood there for a few more minutes patting himself, and then said, "Yep, I think I'm good." He practically skipped out of the ED. Then the tech started laughing, and he said, "you cured that guy, just by introducing yourself."
Talk about a blow to my ego.

Kindergarten

Last night was one of the longest nights I have ever had. Dawson started Kindergarten today and it was a strange experience for me. I have had a serious gut ache for the last 3 days, worrying about him going to school. I know it is ridiculous, and that he will be fine, but I still can't help the anxiety. This morning he was so excited and pumped to be going on the bus, and I was dry heaving as I helped him put on his backpack. I went over all the rules I could think of, and he was totally annoyed with me. "I KNOW, MOM!" He did come back and give me a big hug, before he boarded the Loser Cruiser, and yelled to me, "love ya, bye!"
After Dawson was gone, Dyl kept saying, "what do you think Daws is doing now?" Dylan is going to miss him.
We went to the skate park for awhile this morning, and Dylan was a wild man. He was really being a daredevil. We brought Emma's little Dora Rider, and she dragged it to the top of the ramp and pushed it down. That only pacified her one time. The next time she dragged it up, she boarded her little scooter and went flying down the ramp. It scared the crap out of both of us, but a few minutes later she did it again. By the time we were ready to leave, she was riding it backwards down the ramp. Dylan and I were just watching her and laughing.

Park Rats

You know there is always that "one" kid at the park. Usually he belongs to me.

Itty Bitty Dentist Wentist

It was time for our Semi-Annual dentist trip today. It is usually a pretty easy visit. The kids' dentist is really great with them, but he drives me crazy. He always talks in a weird little baby voice, that I try to tune out. The problem is that he talks in that same voice to me, and in third person, so I never know who he is talking to. I only realize that he has said something to me, when it gets really quiet, and then I have to say, "I can't understand a damn thing you are saying. I am almost 30 years old, so tell Dylan, and he can translate for me." Emma bit him pretty good though, when he stuck his finger in her mouth, and she only bit harder when he started to say ouch. I think that is the first time I realized he actually has a deep voice. At least we are cavity-free and don't have to go back for 6 months.

This is what all our spare time looks like these days. The boys are quite content to ride their trucks down the dirt piles, and Emma is happy on the tractor, or eating dirt. Dave works really hard on everything else, and I pout and use the hammer drill.
"They" say that it means more to you if you put your own sweat and tears into it. "They" can bite me. I would rather just pay to have it done.