Team Yerem

If I had 8 kids, I would make the family do this.

Family fun

This is just fun: Awkward Family Photos

I need to hunt up the one where my Dad is flipping us all off for telling stories about him.

One day at a time

I'm heading to the big PTA conference in San Jose this weekend. (What happens at PTA Convention stays at PTA Convention, people...)

I have been writing out my schedule so my husband can follow it for ONE day:

6:50 a.m. wake up kids. Use all the negotiating skills you have to get them out of bed.

7:20 a.m. leave to take Jack to school. He needs lunch, water, homework and his glasses.

10 a.m. leave to take Neil to school. He needs to wear red, white and blue. He needs his homework folder. He needs to have the turtle book (make sure you read it again before you go). He needs lunch, backpack and the photos for the end-of-the-year project.

2:15 p.m. -- Both boys get out of school. If you want to walk in to pick them up, you need to park before 2 p.m. otherwise you might as well walk from home.

4:30 p.m. -- Jack has batting practice.

Dean's lucky. There's only one practice. There are no play dates. No other kids to drop off at their homes, etc.

He doesn't have to do the things I do on this day because it is my LIGHT day: laundry, clean the bathrooms, shop for groceries, prepare a team snack, work in two classrooms, handle any PTA or church commitments. Next week is Teacher Appreciation week so he gets out of that too.

Hopefully, no one gets sick ...

Sunday education

We went out for lunch after church on Sunday . Just the four of us. I was sitting next to Neil and we were playing games to keep busy until the food arrived.

Neil kept pushing against my side. He was pushing and pushing and finally, I snapped. "Stop shoving against my boob!" I know, I know. Nice mothering I'm doing.

Neil looked at me, furrowed his brow as he figured, and then he asked, "How do you spell 'boob'? Is it b-o-b?"

"No. How do you make the oo sound?" Why resist a teaching moment, right?

"B-o-b spells Bob," Dean piped in.

Jack was too busy giggling to himself to offer any assistance.

"It's b-o-o-b!" Neil shouted. Great, it's a teaching moment for the whole restaurant.

And thus began a big boob discussion at our table. Some members of this family are still calling each other boobs...

Excuses, excuses

My apologies for not posting. When I'm not at the new Target, I am with visiting family. Sometimes I am with visiting family at the new Target.... Life is good.

My brother Skip, his wife Katie and my niece Emily are visiting. We've been playing a lot.

There's been paint. There's been cake. There's been trips to Target...

When I come back I'll post photos and go on and on about the movie I made for my bro's 40th... I know it's rude to boast, but I might be a genius...

Snow Day

We bundled up the kids and packed up the van for a snow day in Wrightwood today. Friends had visited on Friday and had a great time.

Well, there's been a lot of sunshine and warm weather since Friday... and the tubing area at Mountain High is closed during the week.

So let's just say, unless you are going to the resort where they are making fresh powder every day, you should expect a lot of ice. 

We found a lot of ice. Our first stop was a camping area near Mountain High. It looked beautiful and we had the place to ourselves (should that have been a clue?). Dean and Neil hopped on our sled known as "The Torpedo" and started down what looked like a small to average incline...

They didn't stop. They picked up speed. They were rocketing down the mountainside -- until they found the pit of mud.

This ride ended with Dean and Neil rolling violently into the mud pit. That's when Neil started crying and screaming, "My face! My face!"

Good times. Good times.

Neil is fine. Just some gravel marks on his face. Poor kid. Dean ripped his jeans and might need a hip replacement. Sadly, I didn't get it on video.

We left that area... It was bad mojo if nothing else.

We drove further up Highway 2, investigating more spots. We finally settled on a spot that had a thrill-a-minute kind of ride, but also had the let's-go-a-little-slower-and-not-scar-any-more-family-members area too.

The kids had a blast. Lots of sledding. The "snow" was a little too like ice for a good snowman or snowball fight, but there is always next time.

Sometimes you get it right

Christmas did come and it was good. We had a great time Christmas Eve at Marna's and Pa's house. The boys were spoiled rotten and the grandparents loved the numerous framed photo collages of our children that they received as gifts. They are good sports that way.

The best part may have been making my mother cry (in a good way. not the usual way...). We did it by accident.

It started with one brother who did not get our mother a gift so he called another brother to bail him out. The second brother called his sister (me) to complain about it... and that's when I remembered that I did the purchasing for Christmas last year for Brother No. 1. And I think I didn't buy the right thing so I tell Brother No. 2 what I think I should have bought.

He thinks it's  a great idea and heads to the mall. Through multiple phone conversations, phone photos and internet searches, we manage to find a cross necklace much like the one my mom had years ago that she lost (and was heartbroken over). We all pitched in and a great present was purchased -- on Christmas Eve even.

Our mom opened it and started to cry, "It's my cross..."

That's when we all started blubbering. Not a dry eye in the house, as they say...

Working it

Want to know what kind of a day I have had? Bet you can tell from what I have allowed my children to eat today. Let's use Neil as an example:

Neil started the day eating the leftover frosting (maybe two teaspoonfuls -- I'm sober enough to realize I should justify myself ever so slightly). Then he moved on to scrambled eggs and bacon.

We ended today with plain pasta and garlic bread made from leftover hot dog rolls (that's the kind of cooking I learned from my mother. But you should try it. It's pretty awesome, especially when it's the only bread available.).

I have worked in Neil's class, manned the school book fair, taken Neil to a birthday party at a bounce house, made dinner, practiced a speech with a kindergardener, created a tri-fold brochure, helped my father plan Christmas Eve dinner, thrown in a load of laundry, washed days worth of dishes ...

I'm a do-er. A tired do-er...

Turkey Day Part II

I am not in a turkey-induced coma, but I am enjoying some well-deserved wine.

And I deserve it because Thanksgiving dinner STARTED with my mother telling my children that there is no tooth fairy and there is no Santa... It only got better from there...

Family torture

Last month my cousin Mandi and her family made the mistake of visiting us. They came just to hang out. Our kids are of similar ages and they have a good time together. I like that our mothers would get together and let us kids play and now we are doing the same.

Unfortunately, they dropped by on a weekend that was devoted to Cub Scouts. We may never see them again.

Friday night was movie night and the pack meeting for the cub scouts. "Hey, join us at the local school, sit on hard concrete and watch 'Iron Giant' after seeing lots of little boys you don't know get badges, belt loops and pins." We did give them popsicles.

They also got to see Dean dress up as Bobcat Bill -- the wild man from the hills who brings bobcat blood (sometimes warm Gatorade and sometimes tomato juice) for the new bobcats to drink... It's a very male ceremony.

Saturday actually provided some free time, though not much. There were boats to carve, sand and paint for Sunday's Raingutter Regatta. That oh-so-fun event where you use a straw to blow your sailboat the length of a rain gutter. First one to the end wins. Please do not hyperventilate.

Yes, we made them make little wooden boats to race in rain gutters. Then we made giant pirates on cardboard for decorations at the pirate-themed regatta. The giant pirates were also targets for the water balloon launchers that one of the leaders created out of materials that might remind one of a beer bong (reduce, reuse and recycle).

Saturday night we made pizzas -- because apparently we did not have enough arts and crafts all day...

Sunday turned out to be Sage's birthday. And don't you think hours at the park in the hot sun (and ooooooh, was it hot) and a Raingutter Regatta is a 9-year-old girl's dream birthday?!

We did fit in some swimming and dinner at Islands afterward with singing and celebrating. But truthfully, we were all ready for bed!

Can you see why I'm excited about NOT adding flag football to this?!

Just an update

I've been totally ignoring my blog! We've had school, family visiting and Cub Scout events until we couldn't stand it any more! What has my life come to?

Neil started kindergarten. No kisses and no hand-holding at school allowed (by him). He is quite pleased with his big-boy-ness.

He is a little disappointed in the teacher though. "She said she was going to teach me how to read, and I haven't seen it." What is that teacher doing with her day?!

Jack is liking 4th grade but the work is "much harder, Mom." Just you wait, sweetie...

Dean is in Chicago and I don't know how single parents do it... And let's be honest, I'm not really single-parenting here. I'm just keeping them alive till Dad gets back. 

I'm tired and cranky.

Happy Birthday Rod!

In honor of my brother Rod's birthday, I feel I should tell you childhood stories. I'm torn because there are some darn good ones. It's amazing my mother didn't have a heart attack from the things we did. She did get an ulcer, but I blame my dad for that one.

We only had about an hour between when we got out of school and when my mom got home from work. We were industrious children -- not really overachievers, but certainly not slackers -- so it was plenty of time to come up with something and then execute it on a regular basis. My mom would arrive home just in time to see the fruits of our efforts (and potentially save our lives or limbs if that was required).

Should I tell you the story about the time we dragged all the mattresses in the house on the front lawn so it would be "safe" to jump off the roof? My poor mother turned the corner onto our street just as the first kid jumped. Needless to say the rest of us didn't get a turn.

There's the time Rod jammed a tire iron through the middle of the door that connected the house to the garage. Then we hid it from my parents for the next 10 years (Ask Rod. It's true.)

Or the time Rod threw a match into a soda can filled with gas and water and then threw it into the garage. For some reason, I didn't think we needed to call the fire department on that one. 

"Fill this bucket in the tub. We can put it out."

Or there's the time Rod scared me so bad I couldn't stop screaming and the neighbors came over because they thought I was being bludgeoned to death.

That is a good story. It reveals Rod's stealth, cunning and cruel, cruel black heart (love you!).

Rod snuck into my bedroom and creeped under my bed before bedtime. I don't know how long he had to wait there, but he did, just waiting to torture his sister.

Now, I watched way too many of those afternoon movies in my childhood. One of them was the chiller thriller "Don't be afraid of the dark." Well, that just makes you afraid of the dark. It was creepy to a kid -- these creatures that lived in the furnace and came out only in the dark and tried to drag you down into the abyss with them. I can still see the lady grab a camera and try to use the flash to scare them off... I'm still creeped out about it.

So black-hearted Rod's waiting there under the bed as I crawl in (when Rod reads this, he'll still be giggling and pleased with himself). I pull up the covers and the bed moves ever so slightly. "Nah, that's just my imagination," I tell myself.

The bed moves slightly again. "Nah...."

I try to read my book. The bed moves again. My blood runs cold. Terror fills my heart.  "Mom?" I can barely get it out....

That's when Rod pushes his feet against the bottom of the bed as hard as he can and the bed is bouncing and flying around like crazy -- AND HE DOESN'T STOP. He just keep bouncing the bed around. I am screaming and screaming and screaming....

My parents come flying into the room. Rod has rolled out from under the bed barely breathing because he is laughing so hard, and I'm standing in the room screaming and screaming and screaming. I can't stop.

The neighbors come over because of all the screaming. It took awhile to calm me down. I even remember Rod trying to calm me down. He had probably reached that point that we all do at different times in childhood ("Oh. I've gone tooo far on this one.").

I'm not really scarred by the episode. I just check under the bed regularly and everything is OK...

Everyone's away; Mom must play

Dean is in Philadelphia on business. Jack is with Uncle Rod at Lacrosse camp. Neil is at Pa's for the day. What is a mother supposed to do? I could clean house, but I don't want to go all crazy!

Momma wants a nap

If you are keeping track: Jack is out of school. The class party and teacher gift have been handled. Neil's graduate luau is over (and the cupcakes).  Jack's last baseball game was Saturday. Tonight is the team party with 4 coaches' and a manager's gifts. Just need balloons and my job is done there.

That leaves: Neil's teacher's gift, Neil's last day of school tomorrow, followed by his promotion celebration on Weds. Last, but not least, we have Neil's last t-ball game followed by his team party (and the coach gift. Thankfully, I'm only in charge of one!) on Saturday... 

I would say I'm looking forward to the relief of no duties, but then I looked at the calendar.

I think there is a week in August when we are doing nothing... yet.

An Easter Miracle

Maybe, really good food does bring a family together. I made an Easter feast yesterday for my parents, brothers and us. Usually, I do most, if not all, the cooking, serving and then clean it all up. My family stays the required minutes to be polite and then they are gone.

But this year, as we sat down my father even exclaimed, "This is the most beautiful dinner I've ever seen. The colors and food look great." That's not like my dad. I'm not sure that's like ANYONE'S dad.

My brothers even cleared the table, rinsed dishes and put some in the dishwasher! It's an Easter Miracle!

I suppose I should give credit to the menu planning. I didn't do it. I just copied it from this month's Cooking Light. The food was good and it was beautiful. The Basil-Lime fruit salad was delicious.

Bacon

After reading an ode to entertaining with bacon (it's actually more of an oath) at Suburban Bliss this afternoon, I left a comment and a recipe (I'll put it at the end of this post). I wasn't really going to blog about it but then my husband came home with the makings for a wedge salad with bleu cheese dressing. He was so proud when he showed me the label that read "with bacon."

As he kissed me hello, he whispered the sweet nothing "And you know what our family motto is: Everything is better with bacon." He's a keeper. No I mean that. I love bacon (and him).

If you ask our kids what the family motto is, they know the answer. It's embarrassing, but true.

And here's the recipe I promised: Wrap a slice of bacon around a pretzel rod, bake at about 350 degrees until the bacon is crispy and then roll in finely grated parmesan cheese. Put in a vase or mug or anything upright to serve. These are sooo good. They also freeze well (if any are left over).