Kisses and Butt Tongue

James has a butt-shaped tongue. I'm posting this little video for the bemusement of certain siblings who have forever changed how I look at tongues :) He sticks it out when he wants me to make the "bleh" face

And he's just learned how to make kissy noises. He makes them in response to the words "kiss" and "kick" so far.

Piano Progress

Every week after Alice's piano lesson, I look at the new songs she is working on for the week and cringe. I wonder if this new lesson introducing some new basic concept will be the week she begs to quit. The truth is, she doesn't really like to practice until she knows the song pretty well. It's the first few days of the new songs that challenges my deepest convictions. But then she gets it. She's actually capable of learning something she's NEVER encountered before. It's a process that happens every day in school, but I don't get to witness it. I just watch in wonder.

Buddy Bits

On the morning I finished Buddy's Halloween costume, he wanted to wear it all day. I took him to the grocery store in it...bright red martial arts outfit with a blue belt. He turned a few heads.

The other day, he said with a sigh, "I wish I could be a pet for a mouse, but then he would have to be big and I would have to be small." We discussed the possibilities for a while...how would a mouse cook for him? drive him to preschool? put him to bed? He had some very logical questions.

Robert sometimes talks about his pet mouse Caleb. The mouse is rainbow-colored. He mostly sits in his house that changes shape and size constantly. His house travels, too, all over the place.

Bobby's Sunday Summary

I found this Sunday Summary that never was finished.  I don't totally know what happened here, especially with it stopping mid word. But here it is in its unfinished glory.

This week was fairly normal for the most part.  It is starting to get colder and rainy so it has not been the nicest weather.

Yesterday Susan went to the temple and I stayed home with the kids.  It was a good day overall.  Alice has a birthday party to go to, so we cleaned the house in the morning and then watched a movie.  After lunch we had a short quite time and took Alice to the party.  After the party we had dinner and waited for Susan to come home.

The kids were really happ

Bobby's Sunday Summary

Susan has done a couple of posts this week and I don't have a lot else to say.  Halloween has started and the kids went to a trunk or treat on friday night, then on Saturday they went to their cousin's birthday party.  But because James has been sick I got to stay home with him most of the day while Susan when out with the kids. 

Wedding Dress Wonder

So, I'm tired of seeing my wedding dress hanging in my closet. It's a weight. A burden. Something I feel like I must cherish and care for and pass on to...who?...and why?... I haven't quite figured that out yet. It's a nebulous responsibility that I'm beginning to wonder if I want anymore.

Here's the thing. The "wedding dress" in question is not the dress I actually got married in. It's the formal gown I threw on afterwards for pictures and receptions. I have tried and tried to tack emotional significance to it over the last, um, twelve years and failed. The most meaningful symbols of that event to me, actually, are two tiny scraps of paper that most people probably throw away. I came across them months after our wedding and fell in love all over again. So! To me, the dress is simply a relic from all the formal to-do that accompanied our marriage. It doesn't represent the things I cherish most from that experience. It's nice, it's pretty, and it's still useful...I'm sure a dozen women could get married in it before it fell apart...

Do I give it away? What are your thoughts on your formal wedding clothes? Have your feelings about your wedding clothes changed with time? Have you kept them?

And if you're wondering how I would feel stumbling upon my mother's or grandmother's or great grandmother's wedding dress, I've given that some thought. I would only want to value that item as a symbolic relic if it 1) represented who that person felt they were, or 2) represented who they were to me. Does that make sense?

Lemons

James has had a fever off and on for the last couple days. Couple that with diarrhea for the last week, and pressure on his gums from molars just about to erupt (any day now! Please!) he's been a whiny, tired, clingy fellow prone to unpredictable stretches of biting and drooling and irregular appetite. Poor guy.

But last night was hilarious.

James spotted a bowl of lemon wedges leftover from dinner and lunged towards it. Buddy and Alice got excited at the prospect of seeing James' "sour face", which caught his attention. He grabbed half a lemon, held it up, and smiled while the other kids gasped and yelped. Then he stuck it in his mouth. The kids went crazy. I may have laughed and encouraged him, too (ahem). His sour face/shiver was sub-par, so that wasn't the hilarious part. What got me laughing out loud was James' innate sense of showmanship. He performed the trick over and over again with increasing flair. The kids' reactions grew louder and more impressed, too. At one point, James brought the lemon close to his mouth and held it there with his mouth wide open...Alice and Robert squealed! Then he pretended to take a bite of it. Alice hit the floor laughing. Buddy was jumping on his chair. You could tell James was quite proud of himself.

Dude. We thought we were going to laugh AT James and his silly sour face, but he turned it into a full-blown show with suspense and mystery. He's only 12 months old! This boy is full of surprises.

I miss my chickens

A few weeks ago, I found a new home for the last two hens in my flock. I felt relief and a little of something else. I wouldn't say sadness. It's closer to regret. The thing is, even with my awesome local egg farm friend selling me delicious, free-range, locally grown, small eggs for $1 a dozen, I actually liked the color and flavor of my hen's eggs better. What an egg snob I've become! I think the difference stems from my hens' diet containing an abundance of food scraps. They eat everything. And maybe it's a genetic thing, too...I had a couple heritage breeds and my friend grows a hybrid hen that was bred expressly for egg production. Dunno. All I know is I miss my chickens' eggs.

And what's more, now that the chickens are gone, I once again have a stinking pile of rotting kitchen waste in my backyard. When chickens don't eat them, the scraps turn rotten and sour and, well, fragrant. Stinkier than chickens ever were. So, I miss my chickens even more.

And I never get out to check the rain gauge any more.

Well, I guess I finally figured out that these hens do more for me than eggs. I won't enjoy trudging out in the snow to feed them all winter next year, but will be nice to have them again. Stay tuned...more chicks will probably arrive February-ish.

Stinky Socks

Buddy pulled a sock out of the clean laundry basket and shoved it under my nose, "Smell it! Stinky sock!"

"Actually," I said, "that's a perfectly CLEAN sock that smells lovely *sniff* *sniff* *sniff*."

Buddy briefly pulled the sock behind his back and then shoved it under my nose again, "Stinky sock!"

This time, he was right.

He had farted/tooted/passed gas on the sock.

On purpose.

I was so disgusted and impressed with the idea at the same time that I wasn't sure how to respond. I decided to reward Buddy's resourcefulness and made a big stinking deal about how stinky that sock had suddenly become. He laughed his head off. I laughed my head off. I love being this kid's mom.

Bobby's Sunday Summary

Not too much has happened this week, except for yesterday, which was a very busy day.  We started out in the morning trimming a few branches from the trees in our front yard.  Robert really liked watching me climb up in the tree and cut the branches.  The kids were then really excited to help carry the parts of the cut up branches to the wood pile.

After that we went to Negangard pumpkin patch.  It is a farmer that grows a lot of pumpkins and sells them on his front lawn.  They are really cheap compared to other places around here, but they also sell out really fast.  When we were there they had almost sold out.  We got the largest pumpkin we have ever gotten, because they didn't have much else left.  The kids also got two little tiny pumpkins each.  Expect to see pictures of the decorating soon.

Bobby's Sunday Summary

I don't have a lot to say.  Susan already said a lot about James and his B-day. I just wanted to show one of the good times with Alice and Robert playing with him.

Manly-Man FAIL

Fisher-Price Loving Family "Dad" figure comes with a rake and a wheelbarrow. It's too bad his hands can't actually grasp the tools and the wheelbarrow was actually designed for garden gnomes. FAIL!

Dear James

Dear James,

Happy Birthday! It's raining today, the air is cool, and the oak tree out back is silently changing colors one small patch at a time. It's fall. It's the time I think most of you.

A year ago, I was ready for you to come...mostly. There were so many variables surrounding your imminent arrival that I was in a bit of a panic (you will come to know more about my little planning panics in the years to follow). But you came! You came unlike any of the ones before you, and yet you were already so familiar. I held you and listened to you and marveled at your babyness.

I have a confession, James. A month or two before you were born, your dad and I kinda knew your name would be James. We didn't tell anyone or even allow ourselves to acknowledge it too loudly, though, because we wanted to see you first. I don't think the name "James" was on the list of possible names for either of your siblings. When we knew we were expecting you, the name sounded fresh and calm...like I had never heard it before and yet it was soooooo familiar. We tried the name on you in utero and it fit. Strange, but true. And the more I get to know you, James, the name fits better and better. You are altogether new and comfortably familiar at the same time. I loved the nickname "Tiago" best, but it never stuck. Maybe later.

I knew the family you were coming into. I wondered how it would all work out. I prayed that we could carve out a space for you and grow up together as a family. You have a place here, James. I had no idea how you would fill out our family so deliciously. Our life is full and good.

These days, you are starting to climb up on chairs and overturned boxes. You dig in the dirt with purpose. You understand and love the words "outside" "water" "snack" and "Alice", but the only word you use yourself with any consistency is "hi!". You follow Robert around, trying to be part of his games, but he's still very much a solitary fellow and doesn't often appreciate your attention. He loves to make you laugh, though. A smile or giggle from you will get him to do some of the silliest things he's ever tried. Especially at the dinner table. I can see the beginnings of a brotherhood. It's going to take some work.

You squeal at small animals. You mimic your older siblings' play: cooking, dancing, singing, nodding, racing, wrestling with Daddy.

I'm often surprised by how much you seem to understand and convey. Your grunting points actually convey emotion...sometimes pleading, sometimes frustration, sometimes boredom.  

I wish I could stop you from eating dirt, but, well, whatever.

You loooooooove Alice. I think you can say her name. She is kind to you and tries to make you happy. One afternoon in church, the older kids had finished their snacks and you were the only one still eating. Robert was itching to get some of your bread and I suggested he hold out his hand and ask nicely. When he did, you didn't react. At all. It was as if he hadn't said anything. Then Alice gave it a try and you promptly used your pinchy fingers to pick out one morsel of bread and drop it in her palm with a smile. We thought you didn't know what Buddy meant the first time, so he tried it again. No reaction. Alice asked the exact same way Buddy had, and you grabbed a whole HANDFUL of bread and gave it to her. Dude, you crack me up sometimes.

You love your daddy, too, often leaving my arms for his. I can't tell you how much I love and appreciate that man. I'm glad you've learned to love and trust him at such a young age. That will probably serve you well :)

Happy birthday, James-ee. I can't wait to see where we go together next.

Love,
Mom