The Art of the Sheep

I've suffered from a little insomnia this week, some illness-induced, some child-induced. I wish I could fall asleep this easily:



Maybe tonight I should pull out my tap shoes...

The Caretaker

Now that Peter is getting so proficient at using the bathroom (thank goodness) he's discovered that using the facilities is an excellent way to delay bedtime. And Peter loves a good bedtime delay. Bonus for him: since we were sick yesterday he came up with a slew of other excuses. Last night he:

• Needed a tissue
• Needed to use the bathroom
• Needed a bucket (No, we weren't throwing up, but he asked for a bucket. Twice.)
• Wanted to snuggle
• Wanted to snuggle again (This excuse gets us most of the time. We like to snuggle too.)
• Needed a cloth

Why did he need a cloth, you ask? Franklin had thrown-up and he was going to clean it up. Bryan asked Peter if he had thrown-up too. He said yes. Peter showed Bryan some spit in the bottom of his bucket.

I think it's sweet that Peter wanted to help his friend. I often wish that he would spend more time playing with real kids, but it's good to know that he's taking good care of the fictional ones.

Sick Day

I'm sick.

Yesterday the boys and I stayed home from church so as not to infect our friends and neighbors. Bryan had to teach Elder's Quorum, but he stayed home during the other two meetings to take care of us. Cooper and I have it the worst. Peter is mostly just sniffly, but it was enough that we didn't want him wiping his nose on one of the other Sunbeams. It's a general achy, gross-feeling, sore throat, chills and low-grade fever kind of thing. I'm going to have to figure out how to do all of my normal mom activities in a semi-functional state.

I got a call from a member of the compassionate service committee last night. She was calling to find out if everything was alright, if we needed anything. This might bother some people, having someone check up on them and find out why they weren't in church, but I appreciated it. I guess it's nice to know that they noticed I wasn't there. It's nice to be missed.

No Nanny Needed

I watched The Nanny Diaries last night. Scarlett Johansson's not my favorite actress, but I had read part of the book (no, not all of it, there was too much bad language for my taste, but I did skip ahead and read the end) and was interested to see what they did in the movie. Bryan and I both kept saying as we watched the movie, "that poor little boy," "this is so sad," "that's awful." At the end of the film, rather than analyze the acting or directing, I had to go check on my sleeping boys and tell them that I love them.

I also kept thinking that I'm so lucky to be a mom who loves her kids and who aches when she's away from them. And I think they're lucky to have parents that are so actively involved in their lives. That might sound arrogant, but it's not meant to. There are so many children whose parents think of them as burdens or accessories, it's breaks my heart a little.


I'm so thankful for these boys. And I'm thankful that I'm thankful.

Stuff You Cannot Afford

Steroids?

This is one of carrots I pulled from my garden on Saturday.


I'll use the same size comparison that I did for the pumpkin.


Yes, I think this carrot is bigger than the mini-pumpkin sitting in our fridge. This picture doesn't do it justice. I have never seen a carrot this fat. I don't think this has anything to do with tender loving care I've been showing the garden. Did a whole bunch of little carrots decide to get together and become a giant mutant carrot?

I cut it and five of its neighbors up into lots of small carrot sticks and put them on a low shelf in the fridge, which made me feel like a really good mom.

Sweater Weather

Happy Autumn! I've been trying to get myself psyched for Fall (aka the death of Summer) by getting Peter psyched for Fall. He knew that yesterday was the last day of Summer. When ever I asked what tomorrow (today) was (is) he would say, "Halloween!"

Last night I put dinner into the oven late so Bryan suggested that instead of waiting for it to finish and in turn getting the boys into bed late we should have Peter's current favorite food: cereal. So I popped our chicken into the oven to bake and we sat down to Trix, Rice Chex, and Raisin Bran. Thank goodness cereal is relatively healthy.

We will have last night's dinner tonight. Before I put it into the fridge last night I tasted it. Delicious. It was so good my eyes got a little watery. And you know what? I made up the recipe. That's right, this girl, who has never been that great at improvisational cooking, invented something good.

And so, I present to you The Chicken:

• 3 chicken breasts, cut in half hamburger style (so now you have 6)

Combine in freezer size Ziploc bag (or whatever brand bag you happen to have, it won't effect the food... as far as I know)

• 1/2 cup bread crumbs (we made bread crumbs from this)
• Parmesan cheese (I think I put in 1/4 cup, but that's really just a guess.)
• A few shakes of course ground black pepper
• A few shakes of dried sweet basil
• A few shakes of garlic powder (Sensing a trend?)
• A few shakes of season salt
• The secret ingredient: A few shakes of cinnamon

Give the chicken the old Shake-and-Bake treatment and cook it in the oven at 350 degrees until it's done. I used a meat thermometer, so I'm not sure of the exact time. Forty minutes maybe?

As you can tell this can barely be called a recipe. It's more of a throw-what-you've-got-into-a-bag-until-it-smells-right-and-then-cook-it-and-eat-it. The cinnamon adds just the right hint of warmth and richness. It's very Fall-ish. We're going to eat it with rice, slices of homemade bread, and green beans and carrots picked from our garden.

I'm looking forward to dinner. And maybe Autumn...

Elemental, My Dear

Peter asked a great question on Friday. We were reading a book about the planets and he wanted to know how Saturn was able to hold onto all the stuff that makes up its rings. I thought it would be a good question for Bryan to answer, so I posed it to him during dinner that night.

Bryan contemplated how to answer, decided to explain that everything in the universe, including Peter, is made up of matter, and then planned to move on to a discussion about gravity (something I try to explain every time Peter jumps off the furniture). He began with a question of his own:

Bryan: Peter, what are you made of?

Peter: Pink.

Walk the Walk

I've had requests (from my Mom and Grandma) for another movie of Cooper walking. And because I aim to please, here is one that I took on Wednesday. Notice that he no longer holds his hands above his head when he walks? They've moved to out in front. Soon I expect they'll be out to the side like an airplane, then maybe on his waist like Peter Pan, and finally coming to rest at his sides. Baby steps...

Think Pink

I bought something pink this week. Before you get all excited, it's not for me. My friend and her husband are adopting a two-year-old girl on Friday and I'm going to a toddler shower for her tonight. The boys and I hit Costco and got some quality pajamas. And they're pink.

Behold:
and

This is progress people. I don't usually buy pink stuff, not even for other people. I have occasionally, but I prefer purples and reds. But these felt right. Does that make any sense? When I buy things for others I'm very picky. (Okay, I'm picky all the time, but especially when it comes to gift giving.) I want the item to scream out "BUY ME! THEY WILL LOVE ME!" And these screamed much louder than any of the other pajamas on the table.

The boys don't seem to have the same pink prejudice that I do. They rode around Costco with these slung over their shoulders like stoles. It was awesome. Really.

Buying pink things, wanting to know how to sew, am I *gasp* maturing?