The Game of Life

We need to get a child lock on our games cabinet. The children cannot seem to stop getting out the games and dumping the contents on the floor. This is mostly an issue with Serena, since Ethan usually asks before making a mess with the games.

So Serena today emptied out The Game of Life. This is not a good one to spill on the floor, especially if you step on the spinny number wheel. (It hurt pretty bad, but that was a couple days ago...) Mostly though, the game is just a big mess to pick up. There are so many pieces. I started trying to put it back in a nice orderly way, so it would be easy to set up next time we wanted to play it, and it was taking FOR-EV-ER. I abandoned the effort, and just started tossing everything in the box when I realized two things: one, we rarely play the game, and two, the children will probably dump it out again before we do.

But as I was picking it up I started thinking about the basis of winning the game-- it's all about money. We had just had our financial guy over too, so I was really thinking about money and insurance and stuff. It's a pretty materialistic game really. So I was pondering the meaning and purpose of life and thought maybe we should come up with our own Game of Life. The Mormon version of the Game of Life, where the goal is to be an eternal family and get to Heaven. Like on every payday you are supposed to pay tithing, but it's optional. But if you don't pay tithing you miss out when you land on squares that say, "Good Deed done. Get $10,000 IF you paid your tithing." Instead of Life tiles you could get Blessing tiles. There would be squares that said things like, "Fell asleep during sacrament meeting, lose next turn." "Didn't go visiting teaching, go back 10 spaces." "Made dinner for new family in the ward, Get a blessing tile." But then I started thinking, this could get pretty blasphemous pretty quick, so better not go try to sell the idea to Milton Bradley. I mean nobody wants to land on the square of, "Bad mouthed the Bishop in front of your children, lose next 4 turns" or "Commit major sin, go back 20 spaces if you want to repent, or quit now--you lose." Oh well. I guess I'll have to think of some other way to make my millions. Maybe BYU monopoly. Oh wait, it's been done.

Problematic

Yesterday was a battle with my post-partum depression. I'm getting really frustrated because I have been on medication for several months now, and am starting to feel like I want to stop taking it. I feel like my brain is ready to handle the world without Sidekick Lexapro. But then I have days like yesterday and get so mad and upset about the whole thing.

All day long it was like I had constant anxiety, although I am not sure anxiety is the right word. I just felt antsy and unsettled. I felt like I was waiting for something, and I just couldn't get myself to a place of contentment. I called friends. I tried to do projects. I cleaned. I prayed. I read my scriptures. I was fine whenever I was doing an activity, but whenever I stopped I got all antsy again. So not only was I antsy all day, I felt like I was second guessing myself too:

What do you want, Brain? What is it that I am supposed to be doing to fix you? I'm going to call a friend now. NO? That won't fix you? How about reading my scriptures? WHAT? That's supposed to always work! AAAAAAHHHHH! I am losing my mind!!!!!!!

Well, we'll see how today goes. In other news, Mike put three of the sticks in the ground on Saturday. We have to do four more still. I'm pretty sure they're going to die.

The search for Thomas

As a single person, I never would have thought that one day I would be on the phone trying to find places that carried Thomas the Tank Engine underwear. But today, now being married and a mom, that is what I found myself doing.

I found the undies easily enough on the internet-- the first place I turn when looking to buy a specific something. But I simply could not pay $7.99 for underwear and then $6.50 for shipping. It's not like it is Calvin Klein Thomas the Tank Engine underwear. Hanes. Thomas the Tank Engine Underwear by Hanes. So I sucked it up and started calling around-- convinced that no one would have it. (I have never seen it in store, but I have never looked for it either).

I made two calls without success, and then felt that I should return to the internet to see if there was a Thomas store somewhere here in Utah. There was not. I turned to the Hanes website. I looked for a store in my area that carried their products, with no guarantee that they would carry Thomas.

I still really didn't want to make the calls. I just felt so stupid for some reason. Like maybe people would think I wanted them for me, or something. It's like the embarrassment you feel when you go to buy birth control. I mean, I shouldn't have felt so silly, it's not like I was looking for Thomas the Train condoms or something. Finally I realized that the person on the other end would not know who I was anyway. If they didn't have them, maybe they would hang up the phone and have a good laugh at my expense with their co-workers. I would never know, so big whoop. But if they DID have them, then hey, lucky me.

I called Fred Meyer (Smith's).

Me: You carry children's underwear, right? (duh)

Lady: Yes.

Me: Do you have Thomas the Tank Engine Underwear? (I'm feeling silly).

Lady: What size?

Me: ummm... 3T? (Why is she asking what size?)

Lady: Yes we do.

Me: Really? (Did she hear me right?)

Lady: Yep.

Me: Okay! Thank you.

So, still not convinced that they had them, I went to the store to purchase my prize. And guess what? Ethan will soon be the owner of Thomas the Tank Engine undies, because they had them and I bought them. Yea, me. I saved $6.50. I got me some undies.

Poos and Wees

Serena loves to imitate. She loves to run a comb through her non-existent hair, help sweep the floor and use a washcloth to wipe up imaginary spills on the carpet. Yesterday when I was finishing up with Ethan and his poopy diaper, she grabbed a wipe and started "helping." It was quite a sight, my little one-year-old daughter wiping the bum of her three-year-old big brother. Hilarious.

Later that day we had two "miracles" involving Ethan and his potty training. The first amazing incident occurred when Ethan didn't quite make it to the potty in time. I came into the bathroom to find him washing his hands while standing in a puddle of yellow. The miracle was this: there was no pee on his pants. His underwear, yes. His socks and shoes, of course. But his pants had not a touch of pee. Not on the cuffs, not on the crotch.

The second potty miracle was that Ethan went poo-poo on the potty! And they all rejoiced. I think I could hear angels in our bathroom singing the Hallelujah Chorus. If you don't have children, think about how elated you were when you got your first job, or when you got engaged. Those joys do not even come close to the delight and happiness we felt when Ethan had a bm in the toilet. He just went in there by himself and did it. In fact when I "caught" him doing it he said, "Don't come in here," so I was thus convinced that he had really done the job and wasn't just sitting over a toilet bowl with poops forgotten by someone else. He really pooped in the toilet. Hooray!

On another note, whenever I go to the grocery store Itake special care to always put my shopping cart back in the cart receptacle or inside the store. Sometimes I feel tempted to not do so if I am far from a cart return and my children are in the car. I even feel like I would be justified if I just left the cart in front of my car and drove off, but guilt always convinces me that the right thing, the thing that Jesus would do, would be to put the cart back in its place. I now know the kind of people who leave their carts in front of their cars. People who have NO reason to, people who have NO justification in doing so. Today at Smith's Marketplace (Fred Meyer) after I loaded my trunk with my groceries, I pushed my cart about 100 feet and put it in the cart return. There was a woman right next to me also loading up her groceries. She saw me return my cart. She had no children. She wasn't moving very fast so I know she was not in a hurry. She pushed her cart in front of her car and drove away! I couldn't believe it! Of course I could have taken it back for her, but I did not. Secretly I hoped that everyone had seen that the woman with the small children had returned her cart and that the clearly unburdened woman had not. I also feared that people would think that I had left the cart. I probably should have returned it, but I felt pretty justified in leaving it.

Fancy Fingernails

So Mike and I went on a "big date" last night. It was the spouse shipping party forthe PC team of Tiger Woods Golf. His boss gave us moolah to go shopping with at the Gateway (nice mall in SLC) , took us out to dinner and paid for a movie. It was great. I think it is probably the first time I have been away from Serena for more than 3 hours.

Anyway. In preparation for the "big date" I thought maybe I should do my nails. I got out my new french manicure kit that I bought from the Avon lady (who may actually be an Avon man) and began the process. The problem was this: if you're a mom, as soon as your hands are "unavailable," situations arise where using your hands is unavoidable. The older child removes the baby gate, allowing the baby to climb up the stairs. The children fight. The baby poops (this was luckily before I got the polish on). But nonetheless, I did mangage to get all of my fingertips painted a lovely white. On to step two. This step involved painting a "sheer" pink color over the entire fingernail. This is where disaster occured.

I don't know what the problem was. Perhaps I am a nail painting idiot-- this is a possibility since it has been 2 years since I last painted my nails, but less likely since I learned all the tricks of the trade when I worked at a spa several years ago. Perhaps the nail polish was faulty, or even old, who knows! But when I painted it on, it was uneven and far from sheer. It made the lovely white tips of my nails very pinky and they kind of looked dirty.

So here was the dilemma-- Should I try again? Maybe I could just do the white and forget the pink. Did I have time? Was it worth it? I looked at my poor fingernails. "I'm sorry," I said as I got out the nail polish remover. There is a reason it has been two years since I've given myself a manicure. I don't have time for it, and caring for my physical appearance has moved way down on my priority list-- it's more important that I care for my house, husband and children. So with my nails looking worse than when I started, I went to put make-up on my face (also a special treat). We went on our date, had a wonderful time, and was no worse off for having ordinary looking fingernails.

My laundry monsters 

Supermoms don't eat fish food

Yesterday was a "good mom" day. I will tell you why, but first... something funny.

I went downstairs to see what he-who-cannot-be-trusted was up to. He had goldfish food dumped all over the floor and was spreading it around and playing in it. (Amazingly, what looked like the container's entire contents, was only a small portion). Fearing that he had eaten large amounts, I asked him if he had tasted it. He said yes. I asked him again. He said no. I continued to ask him, and he continued to say no. So I decided to try another tactic.

Me: Did the goldfish food taste yummy?

E: No...

Me: Did the goldfish food taste yucky?

E: Yeah.

I'm still not sure if he tried it, but I am certain that if he did, it wasn't very much.

So here's why yesterday was a "good mom" day. My friend Kathryn gave me a great idea as to how to get E to take naps. I tried it yesterday and it worked! I told E he needed to lay on his bed for one hour and then he could watch Thomas & Friends. I set a timer and showed it to him. Everytime he got up I made him get back in bed and I added a few minutes to the timer. He didn't really like it, and everytime I made him get back in bed he cried and screamed. But-- and here's the "good mom" part. I didn't get mad, I didn't yell back at him and I didn't spank. I just calmly told him he needed to do what I asked and then he could watch Thomas when his nap was over. I thought he would just hang there for an hour without sleeping, but with 20 minutes left on the timer, he fell asleep! I felt good because he took a nap, but more because I stayed calm, I was firm and he was "earning" something that he wanted. If I keep this up, E just might turn out to be a fine young man one day. Well, that's all for now. Supermom signing off.

Princess Serena 

Ethan at Kiddie Kandids 

No photo cheerio pee-pee man

Went to Kiddie Kandids today to get our free birthday 8 x 10's. Serena did wonderfully. 5 poses no problem. Sweet, blessed, wonderful, angel child. Ethan's first picture was fine. His second one, okay... But after that he refused to cooperate at all with the photographer and spent the next 30 minutes crying, kicking and screaming. I tried everything I could. Bribes. More bribes. Threats. Hugs, kisses, tickles. But he was not having it. All this while I am trying to keep my "angel child" from running loose out into the mall. Finally the photographer lady (who should have just taken 3 more poses of Ethan on the red bench he had fallen in love with) said, "shall we just go with the 2 then?" Duh.

So other than that, I just had a couple of semi-comical moments with Ethan, the one who- cannot- be- trusted- downstairs- alone. I was upstairs using the internet when the prince decided to go downstairs and apparently have himself some Albertsons brand berry cheerios. When I came to check on him, half of the box was spread on the ground and he was picking all of the berries out of them. I helped him clean up, asked him if he had to go pee (he said no, of course) and I came back up. When I went back down the second time I found a pool of yellow not far from the cheerio incident (where he was still sitting). Our conversation went something like this:

me: What's this on the floor?

E: It's pee.

me: Why is pee-pee on the floor?

E: Pee-pee in the kitchen.

I then try to wriggle his pants off while holding him in mid-air, attempting to avoid touching the soiled clothing. I get said pants off but lose my grip, and they go flying, landing in-- you guessed it-- the pee puddle. I think I may have let a bad word slip, but was overcome with the giggles, while telling Ethan sternly that he needed to help clean it up.

Incidentally, Ethan is still downstairs alone. He is naked too.

Dirt Devils and Doughnuts

I have a friend from Australia who calls her 18 month old her "little Hoover" since she eats everything she can off of the floor. Serena is the same way, but she seems to have a preference for dirt. I guess she's my "Dirt Devil.".....

Mike decided that tonight would be a good night to pull weeds. This was a fine idea since they are starting to grow large and we don't want our yard to turn out like our neighbors who have a mini forest. (Since the guy does yards, I thought maybe they were growing some kind of plant to use in his business, until Mike informed me that they were weeds, and yes our yard could go that route). Anyway, so we are in the back of the yard pulling weeds and the kids are next to the house playing on our cement "patio." Every once in awhile I have to run back and make Serena spit out rocks or dirt. On my last trip back to the house, I notice she's got a lot of dirt, but something else catches my eye. Something familiar... My sticks! She has ripped off part of one of my lovely and precious Royal Pawlonia sticks! No doubt she's tasted it. Too bad tasting is not a way to determine life signs...

Speaking of tasting... A little while later I was eating a banana and Ethan saw me. Apparently he thought it was a doughnut since he said, "I want a doughnut." I just looked at him and said, "I want a doughnut too," suddenly wishing I had shelled out the four bucks for the Krispy Kremes at Albertsons. Which got me thinking, how bad would it be really if I ate a doughnut a day? And a bowl of ice cream? Would I really gain that much weight? Would it be that detrimental to my health? Surely it would not affect my eternal salvation. Heavenly Father would not have allowed doughnuts to be invented if we would go to Heck if we ate them. (I know that's faulty logic). I will have to be giving this some more thought, as I have really been craving doughnuts lately.

Sticks and Stones

We recently moved into a new house. I love having a brand new house and I really enjoyed the process, but our (large) backyard is dirt and rocks and we have to do our own landscaping. Since there is no shade back there I am fairly anxious to get some trees, so I went to fast-growing-trees.com and ordered some Royal Pawlonias. When my trees arrived, I was somewhat disappointed (make that incredibly disappointed) since I am pretty sure they just sent me sticks instead. The instructions told me to pot said sticks for two weeks and then plant them in the ground, so now I have buckets of dirt outside with sticks in them. The two weeks is almost up, and I am really not sure what to do. I don't even know if these sticks are dead or alive. I think they are perhaps ex-Royal Pawlonia trees. They are guaranteed for one year-- if they die I can send them back. I don't know if I should do it now or later, but I am pretty sure if I put these things in the ground that they are not going to make it, especially since the neighbor kids can't stop using our yard as a throughway. Plus, I think if I returned them that the company would just send me some more sticks. Oh well.

Saving it for later

Babies do the grossest things. Serena got very messy tonight after eating some Jell-O (yes it was brand name so I feel no shame in using the title) so I took her straight up to the tub for a bath. When I removed her onesie a bunch of food from dinner fell out onto the bottom of the tub. She then reached down and ate some of it. Mmmmm....

The Royal Family 

Why Elecorn Princess?

You may wonder why I have chosen the address that I have. Just what is an elecorn princess, anyway? You may ask. Lemme Esplain. My husband really wants to have his own business one of these days, and on long car rides he used to hound me for company names. We finally came up with something we both liked when he asked me, "what are your two favorite animals?" My response was that I liked elephants and unicorns. And thus Elecorn was born. I figure since he doesn't have the company yet (but we have paid for the web address of elecorn.com) and that since the name came from MY two favorite animals, that I should be able to use the name too.

And the princess part, well... come on.

But I didn't want the title to be Elecorn Princess, since it wouldn't complete describe me. So, I am Princess Mom, since, well I am a princess, and a mom on the side. Okay. A mom and then a princess (but not on the side). Well, I was the princess first, so... well, anyway. You get it.