"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Friday, September 21, 2012

factual friday

No glitz, no glam, just an iPhone cam and a snapshot look into everyday life.

Pretty much, most of what I do around here gets mocked.  Remember mimicking your mother's phone call in the background just to aggravate her?  Yeah, what goes around comes around.

The first time we started up my band new mail-ordered gas fire pit, the never-before-used piping spewed flames, singeing the hair from Newel's arms.

Now, all I hear is "Everyone suit up, Mom wants the pit lit... another one of her brilliant ideas." And this is what I get. See? Mockery.

Grant is a baby whispering guru. Really. He calms her every time.

He also thinks they look a lot alike with their eyes closed. If I compared a baby picture of each child, she would be an exact replica of all of them.

I thought we would be friends forever.

I guess not.

It's not the baby confined in the car seat that really slows me down from place to place. It's the suddenly willful three year old in tow.

Who, incidentally, is only potty trained when she wants to be.

Sometimes when Newel is traveling for the week, I take it upon myself to think up things that, at the time, sound like a good idea ... like late night frozen yogurt.

But these outings almost always end with kids doing something off the wall. Sometimes literally. 

Another one of those was dinner at Ikea last week.

Ending in all the kids reverse treadmillin' it on those crazy escalators.

I really should remember this when I envision rainbow and butterfly outings with everyone.

Christian, by the way, caught another squirrel this week and tried to convince me to let him cook it on our BBQ. He claimed that with enough Chalula sauce, he'd heard it might be pretty good.

I was adamant with my "No". 

He disappeared and returned with a leash in one hand saying that if I wouldn't let him cook it, he might as well train it like a monkey.

Yes, I'm pretty sure we are going to end up with a disease, one way or another.

No, I did not let him leash the squirrel.

If I were to lay like this for most of my day, I would have abs of steel. Rather, I have those same buttery thighs.

Eliza and I, in one of our friendlier moments, made four dozen rolls together one afternoon. I think we ate one dozen before the other kids got home.

Hence those buttery thighs, I guess.

I sat utterly enjoying a sleeping baby on my lap and simultaneously lamenting the need for a clone so I could hold and hold, clear of conscience while completing needful chores at the same time.

Celia, lounging and listening, commented that chores could wait but babies wouldn't.

I told her that was so sweet ... and to go and get those dishes done.

That'll teach members of my clone army to lounge in my presence. ;)

And ... I cannot get enough of touching Charlotte's hair.

My job at church is to visit other wards on occasion during their Sunday meetings. In the quietest part of one meeting, Charlotte filled and filled and filled her diaper. I exited to sympathetic smiles.

I forgot to bring a change of clothes for her.

Working around the baby wreckage, I wondered what the other church going members would think if they were to find me bathing a naked infant in their bathroom sink.

Then I walked around for the rest of the meetings with said naked baby swaddled in a blanket, pretending her clothes weren't missing.

I'm glad I can lend some reality to the plethora of polished stake leadership.

And just because it's my favorite picture of the week ....

Those are the facts.


  1. She does have AWESOME hair...and love the naked baby story...I forgot to bring diapers/wipes to drs appt and had to ask to "borrow" some...you'd think I would remember that is a necessity by now.

  2. I love factual Fridays. That glimpse into ordinary days of motherhood.

  3. I love the naked baby story too! Brilliant solution. And the last 2 pics are great...

  4. Oh.....our lives.....they are so very similar! Except you get to go out to eat a lot more than we do. Celia probably thought she was being so wise....poor little clone private! And, lastly, Charlotte's eyes. Sigh.