Grayson Family

Habitat Diorama

2011-04-03T16:39:00.005-07:00

First grade has been a challenge. No longer can you get by with "baby kindergarten stuff". You have to work. You have to be diligent. You have to actually learn stuff. Some "stuff" you are expected to learn are the various habitats of the world. In order to facilitate the learning process the wonderful teachers at Candeo gave the girls a project wherein they were required to pick a habitat and construct a diorama from the facts they learned in class supplemented with outside sources (Mom does not count as an outside source - I told you 1st grade was tough.)

Here is Liv with her finished tropical rainforest. She did all the work herself.

A close up of the palm trees (donated from our bathtub dinosaur toys), newly purchased tiger and jaguar (yes we know it's a cheetah but we couldn't find a jaguar and are counting on other 1st graders not being able to tell the difference), a hand crafted butterfly (they grow them big in the rain forests) and bushes also made from play-dough and painted by a well-known artist (namely Livvy).

Nice bushes, no?

Here is Ellie with her Deciduous forest diorama. (And a Harkins movie cup)

She too painted everything with no help from me. We did buy the various frolicking forest animals, however they are set off nicely by the dead foliage and shredded moss she added.

Frolicking animals.

After much hard work I allowed them some much needed free time which included some very special wii time as they had not been allowed to play "in forever."

So with their completed projects in hand they came to me very seriously and instructed me to take pictures and send them to grandpa the great as he is a true artist and thus the only one fully able to appreciate their God-given talent. Apparently it skips a generation - or two. Ouch.

2011-04-02T15:23:00.003-07:00

The girls are now 7 and we are finally in a position to let them try some extra-curricular activities. They wanted soccer so soccer it was.

Brock and the girls approach the field for their first game ever.

This is what they were up against. No fear!

Hurry up and wait. I would like to say they were sizing up the competition but mostly they complained that it was too hot. 90 degrees at 8:30 in the morning. Welcome to soccer in the desert. (Perhaps not one of my better ideas.)

The game started and all doubts vanished. Soccer is fun!!! The girls were timid in the beginning and mostly stood around while we yelled from the side lines. (Apparently I am that parent.) Once they figured out what they were supposed to do (take the ball away from the other team - I know it doesn't sound nice but really, it's the point) they stepped up and did their best.

Ellie coming in for a water break.

Liv's water break.

Brock and I had so much fun watching, cheering, and yelling incredibly helpful things that we forgot to take picture of the actual game.

Unfortunately they were not victorious. They lost 0-5 but there was improvement in the second half and everyone had fun. Here is the team with their coach who is a really great guy. We didn't know him at all and we really lucked out.

The girls were so tired by the end of the game but they had a blast.

Service Continued

2009-07-21T15:15:00.021-07:00

So we have wrapped up our Grayson "summer of service" and it was a wild success. I am so please with how everything went that I just might do it again.

Yesterday we went to clean the church. Despite the grumbles I endured earlier there were none when the big day came. None! And I didn't even have to threaten their little lives! I'm so proud. We finished our dinner here at home, got our shoes on, and left in the middle of a monsoon heading towards the church. The kids were a huge help. They went through the chapel collecting trash and straightening up in the pews and then they went to each and every classroom to empty the waste baskets. They didn't complain. They didn't fight. They didn't run away to play chase up and down the hall ways. They worked diligently until it was done. I am so proud of the work they did.

Our final project was making lunches for a women's/children's shelter. I bought some plain, white lunch bags and zoo stickers so the kids could personalize each bag. This was the result of our Family Home Evening project.

Our Stickers

Stickers and Bags - A Beginning

After much concentration...

unfailing diligence...

and some hard, hard work...

we were done. Here are some examples of the masterpieces that were created.

Livvy

Ellie

Ashton

The next step in the process was stuffing baggies with carrots...

and apples.

I really felt like all of the food groups should be represented - fruit, vegetables, meat/protein, grain, and fruit snacks. This is the only part the process the kids grew a bit bored with. They hung in there till the end though. Even Ashton stayed for all the hard work. Of course that could be because he sat in the middle and was effectively trapped.

I set up the staging areas...

And we got to work. At first our "to do" pile was much bigger...

than our "done" pile.

But we persevered.

Always working with a smile.

And our "to do" pile got smaller...

and smaller...

and smaller.

And we kept smiling...

as our "done" pile got bigger...

and bigger.

Eventually, as with all things, we came to the end. We were very sad.

But proud of all the work we had done.

Once everything was put in bags the kids helped me pack it all in boxes and carry everything to the car. We then drove down to the shelter and they helped me unload. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of those things because I was loading and carrying as well. The lack of pictures, though, is in no way indicative of less work. In fact, I think they worked harder towards the end in stifling heat. There was no complaining, no tears, no abject refusals. These kids were awesome. And, as if that were not enough, my girls came to me at the end of the day and suggested that we give their old backpacks to some kids who maybe don't have any.

I joke quite a bit about my kids but the truth is that I have been richly blessed. Blessed beyond my imaginings with kind, empathetic, good children who have spent the last couple weeks making their world a little bit better. The strength of their spirits astound me. I am better because of them.

I don't matter...

2009-07-14T15:35:00.003-07:00

Now, before you start sending me notes about how I do matter and how I shouldn't off myself just because we have reached ridiculously high temperatures and I'm fairly certain I saw a tree burst into flame for no apparent reason... please, read on.

Ellie: I don't matter which popsicle I get. I just get which one is familiar to me.

Here is some background.

Nap time had just ended and the girls decided they would like a popsicle. Liv grabbed hers and Ellie walked over to the box, looked in at the 3 red ones left and grabbed one.

This begs the question. What went on in those few seconds?

"Yes. You. Popsicle. I know you. We have met before."

Cue evil maniacal laughter and fade to black. (as the popsicle was eaten and we are a G rated blog.)

Our summer so far...

2009-07-07T20:13:00.014-07:00

I think it is quite amazing that I am posting this before the summer is over. Too bad they don't give out prizes for this sort of thing.

We have had a pretty fun summer so far. It has only started to get ridiculously hot the past couple weeks so our mornings have been around 90 degrees or so and playing outside is not only possible but pleasant. This first picture isn't an outside shot but it is of Ashton playing with his best friend Cade. They are so cute together. They will run up to each other, legs pumping, arms flapping, and stop nose to nose narrowly avoiding a head on collision. They will then exchange pleasantries.

"Hi Cade."

"Hi Ashy"

And then the fun starts. Notice they are both wearing the newest styles in shoes.

Ashton also turned 3. Unfortunately none of my pictures turned out so you will have to trust me on this. It was wonderful. Cars themed with the real Lightning McQueen making a cameo. There was also a balloon artist that could do all the disney characters, a mime (because what party is complete without one?) a helicopter ride and a not so brief jaunt to the moon where we raised the Ashton flag. Typical 3 year old party really. The kids were really tired by the end of the day.

We have also begun the Grayson "Summer of Service". We started small. Simply choose a family member's name from a hat and you have a week to perform service for that person. At the end of the week we tried to guess who had our name. Ellie had Livvy and spent the week making her bed and taking care of her water glass. I had Ellie and I also made the bed but added in a room clean here and there. Livvy had daddy and made an extra effort to run to him at the end of every day and give him his welcome home hug. Bigger than ever before. Ashton had me. He put his diapers in the pail so I wouldn't have to get near the nastiness. Thank you Ashton. Daddy had Ashton and he made sure all of Ashton's dirty cloths made it in the laundry room. It was a great week and everyone had a really fun time.

The next week we branched out to our friends. The girls picked the Allen's to serve and wanted to bring them dinner and pick up their toy room. Broccoli soup, lasagna and homemade bread were the menu items of choice and Wednesday was the day chosen. The kids helped with the soup and the lasagna. Both turned out really well. I called ahead to make sure the Allen's would be home and we headed over. The kids filed in the house and marched (with only a little prompting) upstairs. Ashton and I hit the toy room and the girls cleaned up their friend Kyra's room. On the ride home they let me know they didn't have any fun at all but I think they were still secretly happy to be helping. Deep down. Really deep down.

Next on our list were our neighbors. We made these (caterpillar cupcakes in case you couldn't tell) for our neighbors.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, only 2 of our neighbors were home so we had a lot of cupcakes to eat. Oh well. It's the thought that counts right?

Ellie with her cupcakes

Livvy with her cupcakes

Our final two challenges are cleaning the church and making sandwiches for a battered women's/children's shelter. I'll have to take copious pictures and tell you all about it. I don't really have high hopes for cleaning the church building as the grumbles have already started and we are not schedule for another 2 weeks. But, I think the sandwich making has serious potential. It was difficult finding a community service project in the dead of summer that is appropriate for small children. This should work? I'll let you know.

Finally, after all the fun was had Brock and I have stretched out to take a minute for ourselves. We've earned it right?

Mom vs. Dad

2009-05-19T13:57:00.015-07:00

As a parent you quickly learn your strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes I will be better at something than Brock - cooking for instance. And other times it is the other way around. For example, Brock is much better at being a monster at the park and chasing small children around, they don't even have to be ours.

I am better at finding things. A typical conversation could go like this...

Ashton: Blankie.

Mom: Look down.

or this...

Brock: We're out of salsa.

Me: It's on the second shelf.

Brock: No, it's gone. I don't see it.

Me: Move the mayo.

Brock: Oh.

Brock is better at fixing the car. Not that he actually gets on the ground and fixes it himself but he always takes it in for the things it may need. Except gas. I can do gas. (That didn't come out exactly like I would have liked it to.) Brock also washes my car for me. Always. I love that about him.

I am better keeping the house and all who reside in it organized.

One place where I can't touch dad on the good, better, best scale is the pool. Dad rocks the pool. Mom gets out of the way.

If you look at the picture carefully you will notice Livvy is holding onto dad's shoulders from behind while Ellie is sitting on his shoulders holding onto his face.

Ashton got too cold. He doesn't like to fly anyway.

My brain will eat itself and I'll die - an Easter story

2009-04-16T09:45:00.003-07:00

So Easter has come and gone again just as it has done ever since its inception. It is, like all holidays, comfortingly consistent. Well, as consistent as a holiday that seems to land on random Sundays can be. Will it be in March this year? April? Who decides? Is there a world Easter Czar that pronounces it's day and how does one get that job?

Okay, I digress. On with my Easter story.

Saturday night I got home after watching some friends kids and my husband turns to me and asks if I remembered inviting the missionaries over for dinner the following night. What a silly question. Of course I don't remember. Do I ever? And of course the following day would be Easter and I was now in charge of bringing a little piece of home to these poor elders who are serving so diligently our Lord and Savior, but, hey, no pressure right? Did I mention that I got home that night at about 10 so I immediately felt slightly overwhelmed? Being the man of the hour my dear, sweet husband offered to run to the store for anything I might need. I thanked him profusely and told him I would, in payment for services rendered, make his favorite banana cream pie. He was very excited and left immediately.

The next day was the sabbath but I had agreed to stay home and man the Ashton station. Since I was missing any and all forms of spiritual uplift I decided to commit myself to making the best Easter dinner these Elders had ever had. I would serve them to the best of my abilities. I spent most of the day cooking and trying to keep the kitchen under some kind of control. I did well if I do say so myself. I even had everything ready in a timely manner for the elders arrival at 5:30.

The elders came in, greeted everyone and sat down at the table. Now, while the food was made it was not yet on the table. Elder One (name changed to protect the innocent although "innocent" is a relative term here) looked at me sweating in the kitchen and said.

"Did we mention our dietary needs?"

Why no, no they hadn't mentioned "dietary needs". There had been no "needs" mentioned at all accepting the obvious "need" to be fed.

"No." I answered hesitantly hoping they would then say, "We are allergic to walnuts." To which I would answer with relief in my voice, "Oh that's fine. I didn't use any walnuts."

"Elder Two can't eat protein."

WHAT?!? I made pot roast! That's like 4 pounds of protein! Are you serious?

"What do you mean by protein?" I asked although I already knew the answer - most if not all animal by-products contained protein as well as a host of other sources. I was biding my time hoping against hope that his condition would be miraculously cured in the next few seconds. It wasn't.

"I can't eat protein." Elder two explained in a very non-explanatory way.

So you wont be eating my 4 pounds of cow? Or my cheese sauce that I have smothered on the cauliflower? Or the banana cream pie that is chock full of dairy?

"What can you eat?"

"Fruits and vegetables." He answered.

Fabulous. The only vegetable I have is covered in a very offensive (but tasty) cheese sauce. So we took the only option available to us. We gave him a salad which really amounted to a lot of lettuce with some semi-oldish italian dressing (no ranch for this one). Nothing says Easter like a small amount of lettuce on a dinner plate with a dressing that could very well be older than my children.

As we all sat around the table enjoying our various dinners I felt prompted to ask, "So what happens to you when you eat protein?" I was thinking perhaps he got a nasty rash, hives, some swelling, maybe his throat would close causing a panicked call to 911.

"My body can't break the protein down so my brain will begin to eat itself and I'll die."

Oh. Well. Goodness. That's not good, is it? But, hey, at least you wont get a rash.

cute hair

2009-02-18T09:57:00.004-07:00

I never thought I would have girls. I really didn't know what to do with them. You see all these mom's with little girls with cute hair - I could barely do a pony tail.

Now, however, I have girls and I love to do cute things to their hair. It is a sickness. I see a cute hair style and I will follow the child (at a discrete distance so as not to scare the mother) to see how they did it.

My stalking days are over now though. (No I was not arrested.) I simply found this blog that gives great ideas and walks you through them.

This is for you with cute girls (I know your out there - I've seen your pictures).

www.shedoeshair.blogspot.com

I wish I had found this before valentines day. They had the cutest ideas.

Have fun and take pictures so we can see how you did.

What's in a name?

2009-02-17T16:02:00.002-07:00

Every year of my son's short life some time has been spent in the ER. Always for breathing/croup problems. When he was only a few months old he got sick and after the first round of medications didn't work he was diagnosed with the beginnings of pneumonia. (To make matters worse our pediatrician wouldn't see him because his name - the pediatrician's - wasn't on his - Ashton's - medical card. So while I am holding my wheezing new born they sent me away to find an ER. In the interest of full disclosure the ER was downstairs but I still had to pay $100 instead of $10 and wait in ER lines instead of seeing the man that had seen him multiple times by this point. Why you ask would your pediatrician see him a month ago for a well check but not now when his little life hung in the balance? No idea but hostile phone calls were made and things were taken care of by the time our ER visit was over. Don't mess with Mama.)

The second year his cold turned into a double ear infection which again turned into pneumonia. I blogged about it once last year in phhbtt.

So here we go again. Ashton had a cough that just wouldn't go away. He didn't have a fever, no body aches, no changes in his appetite. I brought it up to the doctor we saw for his 5 month well check. It was a new doctor. (Not new to the practice, just new to us.)

"Why don't you try this Singular?" He asked me. "Here is a 2 week sample. Call me if it works and I'll get you a prescription. It should help with his allergies."

Okay. I thought. Why not. So I used it and after about a week he got better. After 2 weeks he was great. "Wonderful." I thought. "No need to use that anymore." So I didn't call back. (Can you see the mother of the year award sliding away from me yet again?)

Then comes the good part. I was having a presidency meeting here (I am now in the primary presidency.) and Ashton started to cry. I ignored him as we were in the middle of some very important ... stuff. About 30 minutes later they had left and I went to check him. He could barely breath. His chest would cave in on each inhalation and his little body was wracked with coughing fits upon exhalation. I ran with him outside to see if the cold air would help. No good. I tried to decide if I should try to give him a breathing treatment at home but I wasn't sure he was getting enough air into his little lungs to do him much good. So, back to the ER we go. Again. Again they tell me croup.

To be honest with you I didn't know what to do. We have done this every year. Every year I rush him to the ER and every year they tell me croup which eventually turns into pneumonia and it isn't until my son is really sick that the medication seems to help him. Why, I ask, is that? Why does he have to get so sick before he is allowed to get better.

Today I got my answer. Today I took him back to the doctors because, again, he wasn't improving. I asked this time to see the same doctor I had seen about a month ago now. The "Singular" doctor. Double ear infection was the diagnosis again. I could have cried. "So why don't I just skip giving any medication and just come back in a few days when he has pneumonia and get that medication. It'll save me a few bucks on medicine that doesn't seem to work anyway." I thought.

"Tell me about him." The doctor said.

So I did. I told him how he had prescribed the Singular and how it had worked. I told him about our trip to the ER and the diagnosis of croup - again.

He looked up and said, "Croup? Are you sure?"

"No." I said. "That is what they said. I don't know."

"It isn't croup. It's asthma."

Now I will tell you what is in a name. Everything.

Everything is in a name. Now my son has a name for what has happened to him every year of his life. Now I have a name to treat. Asthma. I can fix that. This cold, flu, croup thing I can't fix. Nothing worked. But asthma I can work with. By giving the illness a name he gave me hope. Hope that I wont have to listen to my son struggle to breath while praying with all my might that he didn't just take his last as I drive too fast to the ER for help. Hope that he wont have an attack at night that I miss because I have been awake for too long listening to each breath he takes and I am so tired. Hope that I wont have to watch my son cry for relief that I can't give him and then stop because it requires too much energy. More than he has to give. Hope that I wont have to sit in the ER waiting for some doctor I have never seen before say "croup" before he has even touched my son and after 4 hours in the middle of the night I am sent on my way with nothing more than a "call your doctor if he doesn't get better". Here's a clue for you - HE DOESN'T EVER GET BETTER!

Doctors don't diagnose kids with asthma when they are under 5 years old unless they meet very specific conditions. Ashton does not meet those criteria. When I brought this up with the doctor he agreed that Ashton does not have the diagnosis but for all intensive purposes that is what he has - treat is as such. I could kiss him right on the mouth. (I wont because it is very inappropriate and wrong.) But, I could. So here's to you doc. The one willing to give it a name.

SMACK! (Kisses for you.)

Final thoughts on Disney Land

2009-01-20T14:51:00.049-07:00

So, I was looking through some old pictures of us in Disney Land and I realized that there were a lot I never posted. (If you are thinking "No surprise there." I would ask you to keep your comments to yourself.) So I am going to post them now with my thoughts on the happiest place on earth. I will warn you now that there are a lot of pictures. I have to make up for lost time.

1. Disney Land is clean. I love clean. The bathrooms are clean. Don't you hate walking into those bathrooms that smell like they were built in the middle ages by people who routinely chucked the contents of their chamber pots out their own windows? Well I do anyway. Everywhere you look people are sweeping and wiping and picking up. Even the train is clean. In the 3 days I spent with hundreds of people I never once stepped on gum. Bliss.

2. Disney Land thinks of everything. You can even buy diapers if you need one from nice ladies dressed in a very Mary Poppins-ish outfit. They have nice changing tables and even little potties for little people to use. (This is not in reference to people with dwarfism as that would be rude.) Unfortunately, the diapers cost a dollar each so Mickey and his peeps are raking it in every time some mom (i.e. me) forgets to bring more than one diaper for 8 hours of drink filled fun.

3. People are nice at Disney Land. I know I haven't been there as much as some people have but I have rarely heard snotty remarks made. (Except that time the drunk guy stepped on some ladies kid in the haunted mansion but my kids were not there so they didn't hear rash words exchanged and even then there was no cussing. Impressive as Mr. Drunk smelled like a distillery with a leak.)

Ready for pictures yet? I thought so. No need to make rude remarks. See #3 above. We can all learn from Disney Land. (I meant about being nice not about being so drunk you step on children and smell like you have a leak.)

4. The characters are great. After our Easter Bunny trauma I was worried but they really know how to put the kids at ease.

Here is Ellie with Aladin (lest you think we let our children hang out with strange men with really small red caps on their heads). Isn't she cute?

Ellie, Ashton and Liv with Minnie.

Ashton with Mickey. I know he doesn't look all that thrilled but he was. Really.

Okay, not as thrilled as he was to sit in Mickey's car but still... thrilled.

In fact, the characters were so great that sometimes we didn't even care if they were real.

Elle.

Liv.

5. Disney Land offers not only the afore mentioned characters and rides but also performances by some world renown actors such as...

Pooh, Tigger, and the new girl. (As a little side note, what was wrong with Christopher Robin? Did the feminists get him? After all, Kanga was the only female character. Perhaps she was too maternal for their liking? Chris is gone. New girl
comes in. Coincidence? I think not.)

The Little Einsteins

And.......... Mickey!!!!!!!!

6. Mickey may be a mouse but he rules the world. For instance, he has an ice cream sandwich made in the shape of his face. Can the president say that? Today Obama was sworn into office as the president of the most powerful country in the world. But I ask you, does he have an ice cream sandwich made of his face? No he does not. And Mickey can charge a few hundred dollars for a mouse shaped desert and people will pay. That's power my friends. That's power.

Ellie proving that even over priced treats looking like rich rodents are tasty.

7. Disney Land makes you tired.

8. To every lesson there is an exception.

Where have you been all my life... or at least since last Nov?

2009-01-19T20:35:00.003-07:00

I have finally decided to embrace being a bad blogger. I think every blogging community needs one and I have decided to offer up myself for service (or lack thereof) so you, my friends, don't have to. Offer yourselves up I mean. Anyway........

Because of my new life calling I am no longer going to apologize for failing to write. What is the point I ask myself? This tragic trend isn't going to end. I am not going to become a continual contributor of the blog. No radical transformation will ensue causing frequent frivolity or arduous autobiographical adventures. Besides it is really hard to come up with so many words starting with the same letter. I am finally finished. Okay, seriously. I need to stop.

Here is a brief overview of our last few months.

Brock has been working hard to find people who want to build buildings. There are not many out there.

I have been released from my food storage calling and been given a new calling as the primary secretary. This is a lot of work. I never knew. Wow is what I have to say about this calling. Just wow.

The girls have turned 5. Can you believe it?

Ashton has gotten a new room make over. New paint on the walls and new bedding for his big boy bed.

I will have pictures. Someday. Probably. Maybe.

The rest of our summer-ish

2008-11-30T19:11:00.029-07:00

This is a little(ish) picture montage of the rest of our summer. We had a blast. And hey, I'm even writing about it before the end of the year!

To finish off our story about our visit to Utah let me begin with one of the best things about the Boswell backyard. It's big. I mean really big. Not so big that you would buy a horse or a cow or anything but considering our backyard is hardly larger than ......... okay, I have nothing but our backyard is hardly larger than something not very large let me tell you - we luurrrvvved it.

Here are the kids playing on the swing set. Every night after dinner they got to go back outside and play. A picture perfect moment if I do say so myself.

And they have a 4 wheeler which didn't work well on grass until Teresa and I went a little MacGyver on it and dismantled a couple of bike tires, screwed them on the wheels and voila! - instant traction

Remember how I said we had so much fun on our day in the canyon. Well, I feel it needs to be said again. We had so much fun! It was wet. We don't get wet all that often so we try to enjoy it when we can. This picture missed all of the giggling, splashing, and merry making but it had happened. Trust me.

One thing the canyon did have in abundance was cold. We (i.e. me) don't really like cold. I do what I can to protect myself from all forms of cold. Cold is bad. So I did this to my son. Let's face it, if you have read my past blogs you will know that this is by far NOT the worse thing I have done to this boy. Thankfully Teresa found a jacket for him to wear thus avoiding a very embarrassing Oliver Twist type moment.

Unfortunately the girls were not as lucky. If you look at this picture closely you will see how similar the hats look. That is not because we had two very fetching red hats. No. It is because we had one very fetching red hat and one equally fetching bag that said hat (and a nice pair of gloves) went in. This will take years of therapy to cure. Oh well. As long as it happens after 18 so I don't have to pay for it.

Our trip also included a trip to the zoo. Look at these two cute boys together.

This is what they were pointing at. No, that is not me pregnant. It is in fact a real elephant. (Sorry I couldn't resist the pregnant joke. However, when you tell them you can only tell them about yourself - even if you are not pregnant - because real pregnant people can be mean and they move faster than one would think.)

Here is another picture of the kids together. They have such a great time. I wish we could go more often. Maybe Disney Land?

Here is a picture of the kids being done with posing together for pictures.

On one of my last blogs I showed the great children's museum Salt Lake City has to offer. Here is a picture of some of our crew playing with air tunnels. You can kind of see one just to the right of grandma Kathy.

This is why I love the science center. The picture isn't very good but look at the wonder on this kid's face. Makes my soul happy.

As much fun as all of this was though it is not the main reason I love to travel to visit friends and family - or have them travel to visit me. These are the reasons I love to go.

Cooper is so kind and patient and loving with his little cousins. Here he is reading to my baby.

And to the girls. Don't you just love this kid.

The Boswell's came to visit us as well and we met a large amount of family for a day at our zoo and a picnic after.

There was also sprinkler fun at Granner's.

But again, the greatest part is just being together with people you love. It doesn't matter, really, what you do or don't do - just that it is done together. Whether it be ........

playing in the sandbox

or jamming on our alligator pianos.

We just love to be together.

Disney Travel Log

2008-10-22T20:25:00.043-07:00

I would just like to begin this blog with some self affirmation. We did this a week ago. Yes, my friends, my Disney turn around time is one week. I should get a medal.

Here was our very first character sighting. I was a bit apprehensive about how the whole "character thing" would go. We took the kids to an Easter egg hunt at the store once and just seeing the Easter Bunny across the room scarred the kids for life. For the next few months all I heard at bed time was "The Easter Bunny isn't coming right mom?" For months!! Heaven help me when a five and a half foot tall mouse shows up. I tried to warn them. "Mickey Mouse isn't small girls. He's big like daddy." They looked at me like I had grown a second head. Well, I tried.

Despite my worries all went well. Ashton ran to Minnie and threw his arms around her. Ellie was a close second. Livvy wasn't interested. (The Easter Bunny was closest to her and she has never really been the same since.) Once she saw that Minnie didn't eat the other two though she thought she might have a go at it. She still wasn't too sure about it but at least she didn't run away screaming. (I'm telling you the Easter Bunny will be the death of me.)

It is my humble opinion that some rides are less rides and more instruments of torture, i.e. the tea cups. Who's bright idea was it to enclose people in a small area facing each other and then spin them until they vomit? Thank heavens for dads!

The favorite ride of all was Dumbo. A close second was the carousel - until we went on Winnie the Pooh. Unfortunately Winnie does his business in the dark so I couldn't take a picture of it. (Well, that came out wrong.) Anyway, here are pictures of Dumbo and the carousel.

There are times when, as a parent, you wonder if you are doing a good job. Are my kids good, upstanding members of the community I wonder. (Well, as upstanding as they can be at four and a half anyway.) I hope they are not mean ... or twitchy. Both would be bad. And then something happens that lets you know you are doing a good job. Your children show kindness when they think no one is watching. This picture isn't all that good but it shows Ellie helping Livvy down Tarazan's Tree House. Eventually Liv didn't need any help but the first couple times her sister was invaluable.

And, lest you think this was a complete fluke - a once in a life time kind of thing. Here is a picture of Ellie helping Livvy put on her hat. They are 2. (I really only included it because it was cute.

Here is the problem with having twins. When you have them you get a double stroller which works great. But, then you have another child and what do you do? Get a single stroller? Well that seems silly since you already have a double. It's like downsizing. As an American I feel as if it is my duty to never downsize. But then do you get a triple stroller? Well that just seems a bit too much doesn't it? I mean please. I may be an American but I'm not pretentious enough to have a triple stroller. Plus, they don't really fit through doorways. So this is what you do. Getto isn't it?

Oops

2008-10-01T13:51:00.002-07:00

Today I went to the gym. Then I decided my fridge needed to be cleaned. Then I was tired so I took a little nap with the kids. Then I decided I should probably get out of my nasty gym cloths and into some real cloths. Then I forgot to put on my pants. Good thing I was just going to the kitchen or this might have been a much different post.

Finally

2008-09-25T14:16:00.031-07:00

You know how sometimes you have this thing to do and you can't wait to be able to do it? But then something comes up and you don't get to it. And then something else comes up. Eventually this thing that you really looked forward to doing has become this thing that you have to do. It looms. It stalks your dreams. It rides on your shoulder telling you constantly that you should be taking care of business. It never sleeps. It never leaves your side.

So here I am. Blogging about the incredibly fun summer we had in a rather mundane way because our summer is over and the idea of blogging about all our fun has become a chore. I am hoping this will help me exorcise my blogging demons. Sorry it wont be as much fun for you to read as it was for us to experience.

As soon as school was out - yea I know, back in MAY! - we headed up to Utah and had one of the best vacations ever. Teresa also blogged about it many moons ago and did a far better job than I am going to do. Plus, my camera ran out of batteries so I only have pictures from the first half of the vacation which, after seeing how many I have included here, is probably a good thing.

First things first. My baby turned 2! While this is a great achievement for him (that is, being alive for around 730 days give or take any leap year that might have occurred and Ashton being born in the afternoon of the first day and the party occurring on or near the exact date of his birth ... well, you get my meaning.) it is harder for me. 2 is such a large number after all.

Thanks grandma Kathy for the cool dinosaur cake.

We (and by "we" I mean mostly me) decided to head up the mountain for a fun BBQ. The girls were hoping for snow but all we got is some rain. Still, we don't see rain that often either so everyone (and by "everyone" I do mean everyone) still had a really good time. Being with family is fun even if you are wet and cold. To fight the cold we had to pull out our really big guns.

Teresa has much better pictures on her blog - Rainy Days and Mondays

We also decided to head up to the children's science museum in Salt Lake. If you ever get the chance this is by far one of the best children's museums.

The first thing you encounter is this 2 story wonderland of balls and tubes and cranks and air. What else could you ask for in life really? Here is Livvy planning out her ball strategy. I love this kid.

Next we bring you world renown xylophone experts Ellie and Cooper in their duet debut. We laughed, we cried, we were ............ moved.

There was also a construction zone...
a farm...

a real helicopter ...

and a multi-level, almost too large to be real, water play zone with - wait for it - real ping pong balls.

The kids were in heaven. We had to physically remove them from the premises. The tears only stopped with promises of Old McDonalds (as my kids refer to it).

Bad Blogger Bad

2008-06-24T21:04:00.004-07:00

I have been a bad bad blogger. I do have a couple reasons which you may or may not see in the next few days/weeks/years/maybebeforeyoudie (no promises though).

I did want to get this quick blog out though because:

1) I am afraid you are going to quit coming to my blog since I am ... well you already know, no use in beating the proverbial dead horse.

2) I think this is really cool and would like to share it with all my really cool friends.

3) It's free - does it get any better than free?

4) I am running out of reasons but the ones listed above are really pretty good

5) I should stop now.

The great site I just found... Okay that is an exaggeration. The great site my husband came in and told me about is Pandora.com. As I said before it is free. It's like your own personal radio station on the web. You can enter the music of your choice and it will play it for you. For example, if you enter your favorite group it will play that group and all others in the same genre. Pretty cool. Maybe this will win me points?

Olfactory Nerves

2008-05-19T16:15:00.004-07:00

Okay, I have a question. Are the olfactory nerves of a toddler broken?

I have changed 2 hideous diapers for Ashton today and I have to be honest - they were horrifying. Sure, zombies and chain saws are scary but true horror is what I faced with only some wet towels. There wasn't even the usual scary music to clue me in on what was coming.

This leads me to my point. How is it that, when I can hardly stand to be in the same room as my cute but severely odorific (not a real word but it should be) son, he is smiling jovially up at me. I am gagging and he is chanting "diaper rash". (Which does not mean a less than pleasant skin irritation on the less than pleasant part of his anatomy. What he means is "diaper trash" as in, Can I please put my own diaper in the trash? To which I answer, yes please and thank all the saints in heaven that I don't have to around this little gem any longer than is absolutely necessary.)

Sorry, I digress.

Why is it that I am practically retching from the stench and he can grab the offensive bundle of nasty and tuck it under his arm like a pro wide-receiver? This, of course, keeps it safe from all those 200 pound 2 year olds who are trying to force the fumble thereby retrieving the effects of the more than adequate, workings of his inner bowel. Seriously, due to the fact that he has shorter arms and torso and an overly large cranium (don't all toddlers?) his cradling of the cr** puts it just 3 inches from his nose. How is he still alive?!?

This is my question. This is what I think about when the temp hits 110. Okay, honestly, this is what I think of regardless of the temp. It is hard to be me.

Iron man

2008-05-18T16:17:00.005-07:00

We went and saw Iron man yesterday. I have to say I wasn't expecting much. I love action but am not a huge Robert Downey Jr. fan. Plus, I really couldn't see him playing a super hero. It was a bit of a stretch for me. But, Brock had heard really good things about it and he had really wanted to see it. Plus, we were double dating with some friends...

*side note here: We finally have friends! After only a year plus we finally have friends to hang out with. They are a lot of fun and we now consider them our best friends in Phoenix. Congrats to them. (In the interest of full disclosure they are our only friends so being at the top of the list is fairly relative.) We enjoy their company so much we think of them often and have to control our desires to spend all our free time with them. Don't want to scare them away now that we have them......... Do you think it's too early to ask them to move in with us?

Back to my movie review......

Brock and David (one of our new best friends please see above) both wanted to see this so I caved gracefully. I have to say this was a great movie. It was really funny and fast paced. Has Robert Downey Jr. always been so funny? Maybe I do like him and I have just forgotten - one of the many things to fall into the memory abyss I like to call motherhood.

Anyway, the special effects were great, the lines were funny, and the bad guys were HUGE and very.............. bad looking - in a good way. Iron man's trusty side kick Pepper Potts (okay, not side kick so much as assistant with attitude) was so funny I was thinking I would adopt her name in her honor. Heather Grayson leaves so much to be desired. But, Pepper Potts has it all. It just flows doesn't it? Of course, with all my great ideas comes the crushing reality. What if people begin to describe me as "peppy". I don't like being called "peppy". I am not "peppy". Worse still. What if they shorten my name and just call me "P.P."? That is not okay with me.

Here's to Your Health

2008-05-13T14:26:00.004-07:00

We live in the Valley of the Sun. Sounds nice, doesn't it? It brings to mind a beautiful sun shining over a lush green valley. Where a light breeze blows through the trees making that sighing noise that I equate with God being happy. The sun would be high in the sky, it's light striking leaves of various colors of green before finally finding it's way to earth to absorb the browns, reds, and blacks that make up the earth's cushion. Of course, there would be a stream trickling away in the background, it's sounds making the melody to the lower hum of the local inhabitants going about their business.

This is not the Valley of the Sun of which I speak. Our sun doesn't warm, it bakes. Our leaves (if they can be called leaves) don't dance and sigh. They draw blood, as does every other tree, bush, flower, plant, cactus, or weed we may be able to grow here. And doesn't the word "valley" suggest that there should be some sort of higher ground around ... somewhere ... anywhere?

Despite these obvious drawbacks I am growing to love living here. The only downside, negative, unfavorable, disadvantageous, worrisome part is the sun blindness.

"What is sun blindness," you ask. It is when the sun causes immediate, irreversible blindness. Hence the name - sun blindness. Appropriate isn't it? Yes, I think so too. Coincidentally named maybe? I think not. A figment of my sun baked imagination? I will admit to nothing.

There is no cure for sun blindness. Precautions must be taken. We must be ever vigilant, never slacking. No place is safe. That's right. NO PLACE!

Not even the bath.....

Think Romantical Thoughts

2008-04-28T14:13:00.004-07:00

The past couple months have been crazy here. We have had a lot of visitors: Kathy and Richard, Aaron and Teresa and kids, Karrie, her sister, her sisters boyfriend, her sisters kid, (Karrie's sister's name is Allison. It is not a state secret or anything. I have just always referred to her as "Karrie's sister". Oops.) My parents, and Brock's parents. We have also been sick. All of the kids got pink eye (previous blog) and just recently Ashton got the stomach flu.

Now, I wont go into details like I have in the past because, really, the stomach flu isn't funny. Well, not that funny anyway. But here is an over view.

Ashton got sick on Wednesday morning. Thankfully we were sitting outside waiting to pick up the girls from pre-school so he didn't get sick in the car, or the pool (which is where we were a few minutes previously). But he did get sick multiple times throughout the day and while I avoided the nasty the first time I wasn't always so lucky. By the end of the day I had decided that the world was conspiring against me. (I frequently think this when things don't go my way.) Why else would Ashton get sick on the one day of the week that would be hardest for me. Here are the reasons why that day was the worst.

1) Brock was working late so I was on my one with 2 pre-schoolers who spill their drinks A LOT and one sick-o baby.

2) I had (emphasis on the past tense) planned on going with the kids over to a friends house for dinner. Not so much once the regurgitating began.

3) I LOVE nap time. I LIVE FOR nap time. Angels sing and cherubs dance during nap times. (It really is quite amazing.) However, since Ashton was sick he didn't nap. He was doing other things. And, because he didn't nap neither did the girls. This means I had all 3 of my kids for 12+ hours with no help from my husband in sight (see #1)

But, I prevailed. I didn't let it get me down. I got through the day with hardly a scratch and put the kids to bed early. Then I sat. I was tired so I just sat. Sitting is good.

Brock came home around 9 and asked about the kids. I filled him in on my day and then he looked at me and said:

"So, you want to get lucky?"

What! Are you kidding me? Do I look like I want to "get lucky"? Do I smell like I want to "get lucky"? Have you been listening to my day? (I thought all this is about a nano-second. The brain is really an amazing thing.)

What I said was:

"I've been vomited on multiple times today but if you want me..." (I even held my arms out to demonstrate how willing I am.)

Brock gave me a deadpan look and said, "Wow. You really know how to turn a guy on."

Years of practice my friend. Years of practice.

Easter

2008-04-10T13:26:00.004-07:00

So, I have a little problem.

"Little?" you think.

Sarcasm is not helpful here.

My problem is that I declared on my blog (i.e. to the world as a whole) that I would be posting more often. What that small declaration has lead me to is a realization that my life is not fraught with excitement. For instance, today I took the girls to get their haircut. That is really not worthy of blogging. (Can you believe there was a time when our days were NOT measured by their blogging potential? Me either.) Maybe if it was their FIRST haircut... but it wasn't. We have done this many times before. Maybe if I had tinted their hair various colors. But... I didn't. Ellie got an orange barrette in her hair - a butterfly. Not that interesting. I didn't even take a picture. Maybe if there had been singing or dancing by the beauticians, or my children for that matter, but again, there wasn't. By either.

After the girls got their haircut I took them to McDonald's for a treat. Still not worth mentioning really. (although I still will - mention it I mean) We got our food. We ate our food. Ellie sat in the booth behind us and cried. (I chose to sit between her and Liv instead of sitting on the other side of Ellie so I wouldn't be by Liv at all. Dad sat by himself on the other side of the table with its incredibly long bench trying not too feel too unwanted.) Liv sat next to me and moaned that we were eating too slow and she couldn't "sit here this lo-o-o-o-o-ong". (I didn't realize sitting required so much energy.) Ashton ate his nuggets and grunted periodically when they got stuck in his ketchup cup.

But then!!! I had a sudden moment of inspiration and I thought about the following.

This is our Easter story (hence the title).

The Grayson children scored big this Easter. Not "big" as in lots of presents but "big" as in awesome, rock your world presents. Yes, the Easter Bunny knows my children well. They all got candy, of course. (Note: Ashton likes na-nee, very much.) They also all got kites and - wait for it - nail polish. Ok, Ashton did not get nail polish. He got a puzzle but he is only 1 and doesn't really care that much anyway. The girls however, were in heaven. AND! As if the nail polish were not enough, they also got little flower stickers to put on their nails once the paint was dry. Red for Ellie and Pink for Liv. It was such a good gift getting session that the girls disappeared with nary a complaint. I finally had to call them for dinner.

Side note here: How often have your children disappeared for an hour without a peep? Me either.

Back to my story. I called them to dinner. Ashton and Liv came right away. Ellie eventually showed up and informed me that she was going to be a little late for dinner because she had to finish her toes. I paused and thought a moment. Finish? That can't be good. I looked down and sure enough all 10 finger nails (to the first knuckle on some) and 5 toes were painted. I panicked.

"Where did you paint them Ellie?" I asked with a note of hysteria in my voice. Ellie picked up on my panic at once and stopped talking to me. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law" was, I'm sure, what she was thinking.

"Please, Ellie. You're not in trouble. Just, please tell mommy where you did your nails?" I pleaded.

"Your closet" was the whispered answer.

I flew across the house to my carpeted closet and found.... nothing. There was the polish - open - and the stickers, but nothing had spilled. I am not sure how my 4 year old managed to get the bottle open and paint 15 of her 20 appendages without spilling a drop. The carpet gods were smiling.

Here is a picture of Ellie's first attempt at self beautification. She didn't do too bad.

books

2008-04-04T13:48:00.004-07:00

Ok, I have a favor to ask the blogging community, or at least those that read my blog. I have just finished reading the twilight books for the second time and am tempted to begin again mostly because I have run out of ideas.

So in this vein I am asking for your help. If you are reading this could you give me your 10 favorite books or authors (which is how I usually decide)? In return here are some of mine. These are just fun books, of course if we are talking about life altering books the scriptures would be top of the list. (In no particular order.)

1. Twilight books

2. The Alchemist (small, simple read that for me was very profound)

3. Spencer books by Robert Parker (these are PI books that are also simple reads but they are great get away books)

4. Harry Potter

5. The Prey books by John Sandford (these are very disturbing books - definitely rated R. they are all about serial killers and the cop who tracks them. I love them but they are offensive to some)

6. Wheel of time by Robert Jordan (if you like fantasy)

7. In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson (this is actually a travel book - I never read travel books - and was one of the funniest books I have ever read)

8.Much Ado about Nothing by Shakespeare (because I can relate)

9. Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden (I thought the language was beautiful however parts of the story are hard to read)

10. Timeline by Michael Crichton (this was a great concept - the movie was terrible)

Anyway, this is my list. It was actually kind of hard to put together because I can't remember all the books I have ever read. I may do this again sometime.

I have a dream...

2008-04-02T19:53:00.007-07:00

**Note: This post is long. Really, really long. Read at your own risk. (This is what you get when you ask me to post more often. I can get a little carried away and no one has ever accused me of being succinct.)

"I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.'

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; 'and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.'"

This is, arguably, the most famous speech given by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on August 28, 1963. It is one of my favorite orations of all time. No matter how many times I hear it or read it, whether partially or in its entirety , it raises goose bumps on my flesh and brings tears to my eyes.

I love his eloquence. "With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope."

His simple phrases that inspire humanity to reach to a greater height than they may think possible. "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." (this is my absolute FAVORITE line of the whole address)

His compassion that encourages others to kindness when they have so much reason for hatred. "Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred."

It is with all these things in mind, with the greatest regard and the upmost respect for the man and his vision that I post the following....

I too have a dream. Mine is not grandiose. Mine will not alter the fabric of society nor change the destiny of a nation. Mine is not filled with the passion of years of injustice, the burning of righteousness or the nobility of truth.

No, mine will do none of these things.

It is simple. But, to me, it is profound. I have a dream that one day I may be able to use the bathroom all by myself.

I have a dream that one day I will be able to use the bathroom without a small voice calling to me, "Mommy, did your pee-pees wake up?"

I have a dream that one day I will be able to use the bathroom without someone barging in and announcing passionately, "Mommy, it stinks in here! I'm getting out of here!"

I have a dream that one day I will be able to use the bathroom without watching the door handle turn and a head pop-in to ask, "Mommy, can you get me some more milk?" I can't right now. Obviously.

As I said, it is not profound but it is my little dream.

Pink

2008-03-31T14:55:00.007-07:00

Pink is an interesting color. It brings to mind spring time, Easter, flowers, and bunnies (although I could not begin to tell you WHY pink makes me think of bunnies - I have never seen a pink bunny).

However, this past week my kids have contracted pink eye which, to be perfectly honest, does NOT bring any of the afore mentioned sweetness to mind. In fact, it brings to mind much nastiness. Pink eye is NOT a symbol of new life and baby animals romping playfully through a meadow. It is NOT a reminder of time spent with family frolicking in warm spring days. I do NOT revisit the cotton candy moments of my youth where birds sing, butterflies flutter and kites float lazily on the breeze while children squeal in delight.

No, pink eye is none of these things. Putting the word "pink" in front of the word "eye" does NOT in anyway make the word "eye" more pleasing. Just the opposite in fact.

Pink eye has made all three of my children look like they have lost boxing matches against really famous boxers whose names I will not even pretend to know. Their eyes are red and swollen and incredibly foul things leak out of them. To top it all off I get to line up all of my children for eye drops. It worked great - the first time. Now they know it is not a pleasant experience to put stinging, itchy drops in sore eyes. (You can't say my kids aren't bright.) As if the drops are not enough the kids are not allowed to touch their eyes. So here I go...

I put the drops in. 1 drop 3 times a day.

"Don't touch." I say.

Instantly little hands and even littler fingers leap up to the eye region of the face.

"Don't touch." I repeat as I attempt to block their ever increasing attempts to reach their eyes.

Little hands and even littler fingers continue to move with dizzying speed as they eventually break through my defenses and attempt to pop their offending eyeballs out of their ocular cavities.

"Don't touch." I repeat again as I remove their hands in an attempt to preserve the eye.

It is at this point that my cute, precious little angels turn into little creatures of pure malice that seek to take my life.

Pink eye is not my friend.

Field trip to the zoo

2008-03-09T13:52:00.019-07:00

In the spirit of my brand-new, blog more frequently, resolution, here are pics of the kids at the zoo. This was their second ever school field trip. I didn't post pics of the first. As Aaron would say, "I fail at life".

Here is a pic of the entire class. Ellie is on the far left of the picture chewing on her Diego sport cup. Liv is hiding behind the little red headed boy - you can't see her. Can my kids pose or what?

Ok, seriously. What is this? Cheetah? Jaguar? Leopard? How does one tell? Apparently a trip to the zoo did not help ME at all.

My girls posing again. They refuse to put down the cups and Ellie wont look up. So much for a career in TV.

We went to the Wild Zoo which was really a lot of fun. As you can see the kids are able to get pretty close to the animals.

Sad when the kangaroo poses better than the children.

This was BY FAR the best part of the zoo. The lorikeet feeding. The kids were able to hold a piece of an apple and the birds would fly down and eat it right out of their hands. It was really neat. Liv loved it. Ellie, not so much.

Picture of the class before the train ride.

The girls were enthralled by the tortoise (the large, flat, rock looking thing in the upper left hand corner). Now, I myself am an animal lover and the tortoise was cool and all but this picture captures all the excitement the tortoise has to offer. This is it. I finally had to drag them away.

This was our next big adventure. Feeding the giraffes. The girls would not do it so I had to hold them up while I fed the giraffe. "You will have fun so help me......"

Is it just me or does this camel look dead? The girls were quite concerned.

I was thinking of doing this with Ashton's hair. What do you think?

This white tiger was beautiful. He was sleeping until all the kids came around. At which point I am thinking, that he was thinking, "Lunch".

Peer-Pressure

2008-02-10T14:46:00.007-07:00

So here is the thing about peer-pressure, it never really ends. This seemingly small fact has caught me off guard. I can honestly say, when I was a child, I thought adults were impervious.

I guess I was wrong.

My girls are a bit ........ hmmmm, how to put this nicely, um, competitive? They are competitive. We were driving in the car the other day when my little 4-year-old peanut gallery began to speak.

"Mom? Are you going fast?"
"Mom? Are you going fast?"
"MOM? Are you going FAST?"

"Yes, I am going fast."

"Are we going to pass that car mom? Let's go fast enough to pass that car."
"Let's go fast mom."
"Pass the car mom."
"MOM. GO FAST SO WE CAN PASS THAT CAR."

"Girls, we don't need to pass the car. We are going fast enough."

"Mom, that car is going to pass us."
"Mom, don't let that car pass us."
"Mom, he's getting ahead of us. HE'S BEATING US!!!!"

(slight pause as our crushing defeat takes hold)

.....

"Mom, are we going to win?"
"Are we going to win mom?"

(This is a question that comes up every day. What they mean is, are we going to be the first to get where ever it is we are going or are "they" going to beat us. The underlying assumption here is that everyone on the road is in fact going the same place we are going and "they" want to get there first.)

"Girls I don't know. Not all of these cars are going to your pre-school." (We were at the time going to pre-school.)

They pause while they process this new information. And, at this point you think, "Wow, she is really handling this thing well. Way to not fold under the pressure." Please read on.

"Let's win mom. Look we passed that car. Yea mom!"
"There is another car. Let's see if we can pass that car mom. Go faster mom!"

(It is here that I must admit I can feel my resolve weakening. After all, I DID pass that one car.)

"YEA MOM!!"
"WE PASSED HIM!"
"LET'S GET THERE FIRST MOM!" (Lesson number one of the day was a dismal failure.)
"DON'T LET HIM PASS US!"
"YEA, HE DIDN'T PASS US!"
"Mom, are you going fast?"
"YOU'RE GOING FAST MOM!"
"MOM, YOU'RE GOING TO WIN!!!!!!"

What I am going to win has never been fully discussed. To be perfectly honest it hasn't even been partially discussed but as I looked down I noticed I was going 65 miles an hour in a 40 mile an hour zone. I am a victim of the dread 4-year-old peer pressure. I hang my head in shame.

phhbtt

2008-01-13T14:37:00.000-07:00

I know I am a little back logged when it comes to my blog but I just can't seem to keep up my end of the bargain. What bargain you ask? Well, I really don't know. But, I seem to be failing none-the-less.

For so many people 2007 went out with a bang. A party. Streamers, confetti and drinks. At the very least there was a quiet moment as the ball dropped in Time Square. Not so here in the Grayson household. Ours was more of a phhbtt sort of noise.

Ashton had been sick with a nagging cough for about 2 weeks when I decided to take him to the doctors. Not what I had scheduled for Christmas Eve but I had apparently forgotten to show Ashton what I had planned so it was my fault. Double ear infection was the diagnosis and tasty pink medicine the cure. Ashton was thrilled. Yummy pink "mu" twice a day. The girls were jealous. "Mom, I have a bad cough (cough, cough, choke, choke sounds here). I need some medicine." Nice try!

So dawns New Years Eve day with all it's promises of "out with the old and in with the new". That day where you can contemplate all that the past year has brought and all the things the New Year might bring. That exciting day when you get to sit around thinking about how tomorrow you will get to write 2008 on your checks instead of 2007. New Years Eve has it all really. The past, present and future all rolled up into one glorious day of sunshine. (A little carried away?)

Well, our New Years Eve day began like all others. We ate, we played, and Brock went to work. He called me on his way home and I began to tell him how great our morning had been but how Ashton was having a rough afternoon. During my iterations Ashton began to cry. I, of course, ignored him. I was on the phone and he was not being pleasant. He cried a little harder and I ignored a little more. He began to REALLY cry and I told Brock I should go. "I just don't know what his problem is the afternoon" I told Brock. I sent Brock my love, hung up the phone, and turned to Ashton. He had vomited all over himself. Well, there goes my mother of the year award. So close and yet so far away.

You know, as a mom I feel as if I should be able to handle any difficulty. Any nasty that may come my way. After all, isn't that what mom's do? Do we not handle all those things that others cringe at? Well, to be honest I didn't see the vomit coming. "Now what do I do?" I thought. I really should comfort him, but ... yuck. So I did what - I hope - all moms have done at one time or another. I put on rubber gloves to touch my son. I just couldn't bring myself to do it any other way. So there I was, rubber gloves pulled up to my elbows, hands in the air, approaching my sick son. Compassion is my middle name. To prove this I striped him naked right there in his chair and carried him, held out in front of me, to the bath.

In my defense, once he was clean I cuddled and cuddled him. I even called Brock and told him he was on for dinner prep. I believe we ate out that night.

New Years day and the day after were much like New Years Eve. I sat and cuddled. On Saturday it became clear he was not going to get over the fever himself so we went BACK to the doctors. Double ear infection and the beginnings of pneumonia. Not what I was wanting to hear. It had been a really rough week. Ashton had gotten sick a couple more times. He wouldn't eat or drink very much. He wouldn't play and NEVER (I really can't stress NEVER enough here) wanted to be put down. He didn't just want to be held. He wanted to be held while I walked singing his favorite tunes and rubbing his back. Well, don't we all want that? He cried all the time. It was, for me, a revisitation of the first 5 months of his life when he would cry non-stop for hours at a time.

So there I was, sitting in the doctor’s office with my crying son getting ready to do a "breathing treatment". For those of you who have never experienced the first breathing treatment, it is a thing of pure agony. Ashton couldn't breath as easily as he was used to and I wanted to put a mask on his face.

Let me take a minute here to explain my thoughts on evolution and Darwinism. People generally don't like to have things on their faces. Especially when they are already having a hard time breathing. Natural instinct kicks in when mouth and nose are covered simultaneously. Those people who do not have this inclination are dead. It is called survival of the fittest - or brightest. Evolution. Darwinism.

Ashton has evolved. He kicked and screamed. My little 1-year-old baby had super human strength. I could barely hold him let alone keep the mask on his face. He turned multiple colors and contorted himself in ways I didn't think were possible. It was the longest 20 minutes of my life. By the end we were both crying and sweating profusely. It is at this point the doctor reappeared looking sympathetically at my face. "They usually don't like the first time" she told me. "Don't like?” I thought. That has got to be the understatement of the year and it is only Jan 5th.

After all was said and done I took my son, his breathing machine, diaper bag, paper work, masks and tubing, and keys and left for home. I know I blew mother of the year in 2007 but I really feel as if I am in the running for 2008. If there is one thing I have learned from all the presidential candidates it is that you can never begin self-promoting too early.

To end this too long blog. Ashton is now doing well. He is still on his antibiotics but he no longer has to do the breathing treatments. (The doctor was right. He really only hated the first treatment. He tolerated all the rest fairly well.) His lungs are clear and he is my happy little boy again.

Here is Ashton feeling better and eating spaghetti.

Wal-Mart (aka. The Devil)

2007-12-07T14:56:00.000-07:00

Here is a letter I have sent to Wal-Mart. Better known as the devil.

Dear Wal-Mart,

I had never really shopped at Wal-Mart before a couple of years ago. The store near us was so large I decided I would try their photo center. It was the worst customer service experience I have ever had. I swore I would never go back. I called friends and family and told them what had happened. Well, a couple days ago I was talking about paint with my brother. He told me about the Kilz paint. You can get it at Wal-Mart he said. Now I had a dilemma. Good cheap paint and break my boycotting vow or expensive paint at a store I know cares about my business? I decided to give Wal-Mart another chance. I have to say, I have had exactly the same experience. I had to wait 30 minutes in the paint department to get a person. Do you know who I got? Dan from the pet department, Nicole from grocery and Trish from goodness knows where. Apparently, there was no one for the paint department and no manager that knew the area either. So, between the 3 they helped me out. I left the store 1 hour later with 1 quart of paint and nothing else on my list. I have trouble patronizing a store that treats the customers in such an off-handed fashion. Do you know I had sales associates tell me there should be someone in paint and walk away from me when I asked for help? I had other associates avoid eye contact when I tried to get their attention. Some went so far as to walk to the other side of the dividing isle when they had to pass me multiple times and didn't know how to help. I didn't scream or yell, cuss or throw a fit. I thanked Dan, Nicole and Trish for their willingness to help. But how can a store the size of a small town not care about those customers that helped it to grow so big. Here is an analogy for you.

A person walks into the store and the little glutton in all of us jumps for joy. There is food to eat and chairs to sit on while you are eating it. You can buy a TV to watch or any kind of stereo you need if you like movies or music with your food. While you are enjoying life's better indulgences you can have the tires on you truck fixed and by your new eye-glasses to help you see better on the way home. Lonely? You can buy a pet at your local Wal-Mart. Allergic to your new pet? Stop buy the pharmacy to pick-up some medication to clear you right up. Yes, Wal-Mart has every thing you could ever hope to need. Mecca for shoppers. Until you begin to feel sick and you drop to your knees in the middle of the isle. Then they just walk on by trying not to make eye contact as you lay gasping for breath on the cold floor. After all, there are shelves to fill for the living. As you take your last breath you realize that while Wal-Mart can give you a lot they are not really there when you need them. In fact, they tend not to notice you until you begin to stink. At which point Dan from pets, Nicole from grocery, and Trish from where ever come dutifully with shovels to scoop your rotted remains out the door. Thanks for nothing Wal-Mart. This corpse is going to Target.

Sincerely,
Heather Grayson

Sandman

2007-11-24T15:47:00.000-07:00

One day, when the girls were at pre-school, I decided Ashton and I should have some fun.

"Let's get your shoes on and go to the park!" I told Ash. Well, he RAN to the closet and got his shoes. We put them on and then he RAN to the back door. (Just a little FYI for those of you who have not seen our house, the back door does not lead to the park.) There could have been a couple reasons for this confusion. One, it is possible that Ashton did not hear a word I said after the word "shoe". Ashton loves his shoes. They mean the world to him. Or, at the very least, they mean the following 3 things.

1) he is not going to have to go to bed
2) he is not going have to stay in the house
3) he is not going to have to go to bed

Or, it is very possible that Ashton does not know what "park" means yet. Both of these reasons are equally viable and, after careful consideration, I realized neither matter at all. Let's face it, the kid was happy in the backyard and I didn't have to strap him into the car and haul his bum to the park. It was a win-win situation, why debate the reasons.

So I cheerfully opened the backdoor and out we went into the wondrous world of our backyard. The weather was beautiful. The birds sang and the butterflies ... well the butterflies did what all butterflies do - they flew around. But, they were pretty and I enjoyed them immensely. It was not too hot (hallelujah after the summer we had) but the sun shone and all was right with the world.

**A little side note. As I sit at my computer Ashton is laying on the floor next to me with his shirt pulled up, drumming on his tummy. Ahhhh, life’s little pleasures.

Anyway, back to my story. It was a nice day and Ashton and I took advantage of it. We ran and played with balls and played in the little playhouse. Picture perfect moment really. And then it happened. Ashton noticed the sandbox. Now, the sandbox is an enigma for Ashton. On one hand, it seems to be a fun place to be. Certainly, the girls seem to enjoy themselves. On the other hand, when he touches the aforementioned sand it sticks to him in a rather irritating fashion. What to do, what to do? There was something different about this day though. Dare I say magical? Ok, not really magical more along the lines of mommies undivided attention. So off to the sand box we went. We touched. We realized, with mommies help that sand is ok. So - dramatic pause here - we got in. Let me tell you, this is when the fun really started. Ashton could get his hands and his toes involved in the digging. He would grab fists full of sand and let it run out his chubby little fingers. He would shove his hands as deep in the sand as they would go. He would kick his feet through the sand and look at the tracks his heels made. Wow! Did we have fun! And then it happened. I showed him the shovel. Well, if the sand was fun before it was nothing compared to what he was now experiencing. Sheer delight that only a child can find in a toy that, for all intensive purposes, only digs. But, man could it dig! We scooped and dumped, scooped and dumped. Beautiful. I began to give him large scoopfuls of sand to dump. He was in little boy sandbox heaven.

And, then something unexpected happened. I handed Ashton a shovel full of sand and Ashton dumped it (as he had been doing) into his gaping, baby bird type mouth. Well, to be honest I didn't see it coming. I watched in horror but I didn't move. I didn't twitch. I didn't even think, NOOOOOOOOO!" No, I sat there in stunned disbelief. Well, immediately after I jumped into action. Perhaps to make up for my complete lack of any sort of response whatsoever, I grabbed his little head and thrust it towards the sand.

**Another little side note here. Notice I said "towards" the sand. I did NOT shove his face in the sand. That would be wrong.

Anyway....... As I was saying, I grabbed his head, thrust it TOWARDS the sand, mouth down to dump out the offensive sand and shook it. Slightly. Needless to say, Ashton didn't like it. Not one bit of it. He didn't like the sand in his mouth and he didn't like the thrust and shake maneuver that I was beginning to feel completely redeemed me from my previous failure.

Now, let me take a minute to explain to you what this looks like. I wasn't taking small shovelfuls of sand. Ashton could do that on his own. Oh, no. I was taking large, heaping, full to the brim shovelfuls of sand. Because of the sheer amount of sand Ashton, in my opinion, was in grave danger (is there any other kind?) of suffocating himself. So if I thrust and shook with a bit more gusto than was actually required, it is perfectly understandable.

Once I had poured the dry sand out of his mouth, noticed that he made a fairly decent sand pile himself, I again took charge as only a mother could do. First things first I told myself. I need to get the sand off the body before I take him in the house. Of course, you don't want to track sand into the house, never mind that your son just had a near death experience. So, because the shaking of the head had worked so well for me, I shook the body as well. Amazing how mach sand children can accumulate from just sitting and eating isn't it? Anyway, I shook and then I carried him into the house and cleaned him up.

After relating our day to a friend she said, "At least you know he won’t do it again". Well, to be honest I didn't know any such thing. And as I predicted, a couple months later he did it again. This time I was much quicker on the draw. Not nearly as much sand was ingested.

Here is our most recent picture of Ashton. Dad is responsible.

First Day of School

2007-09-20T20:06:00.000-07:00

Well, the day has finally arrived. The girls have started pre-school. I had thought that once both girls were in school I would magically have all this extra time to get stuff done around the house. This is not true. I now have more to do. Now I have to drive them to and from school AND while they are gone I have only one child at home.

I would just like to take this time to apologize to all those mothers out there who only have one child. I have to admit I thought my job was harder. I thought, "One. How easy! Come on, what do they have to complain about!" Well, as it usually goes, now that I have walked in your shoes I know how easy it is not. One child means no playmates but mom. One child means no toys matter but mom. One child means no one to fight with, laugh with, cry with - but mom. One child means (yea, I get it) no one and nothing but mom. So much for all that work I was going to get done. Perhaps I should have sat Ashton down and explained my plans to him. That way we could have both been on the same page. i.e. he would have laughed in my face and told me I was dreaming. Oh well.

The girls LOVE school. They get all of their stuff ready the night before. Their bookbags go by the door (just like daddies briefcase). They pick out our cloths (mom usually gets it wrong). And they imagine what they might be doing the next day. They currently have every (and I do mean EVERY) piece of school project "stuff" on the walls. Pre-school is over at noon so once I put Ashton down for his nap the girls eat lunch and describe in detail their days, breathing only when absolutely necessary, each talking louder and faster than the other in order to be the one to "tell" mom what happened during the day. They relate who played with whom. What Miss Debbie's dogs did. And who got to bring snack for the class. They have even begun to color their pictures yellow because that is Miss Debbie's favorite color.

Here are some pictures of their first day.

Ashton is feeling very important as well.

Irretating

2007-06-05T20:55:00.001-07:00

Ellie

Livvy

When the girls have gotten on my one and only, last nerve I will sometimes say, "Will you stop! You're irritating me!" Well, I wasn't sure they knew what irritating meant until one day Liv was having a hard time. I had finally had enough. I was in my bedroom at the time and I told her she had to leave if she was going to whine. She couldn't do it in my room. "It hurts my ears", I told her. She walked out crying, I walked away in a tiff. Ellie was sitting by me and was quiet for a time. Then she turned to me and asked, "Mommy, you irritating?"

They do have a way with words don't they?

Ashton finds his tongue

2007-06-01T21:29:00.001-07:00

While I was going through video of Ashton walking I found this. It is one of his favorite games.

Asthon walks

2007-05-29T20:34:00.000-07:00

Bill Cosby used to do this joke about fathers and mothers. Fathers, he would say, spend all their time teaching their sons to play "ball". They work countless hours coaching fundamentals, going to practices, and cheering at games. This they do throughout their son's childhood so the boys can go on to play "professional ball" one day. Then (dramatic pause here) that day comes. The father sits proudly in the stands cheering his boy on with every bit and particle of his soul. At the end of the game they want an interview with his boy, his son. The cameras position themselves, the interviewer stands poised, his son looks into the camera, smiles, waves and says, "Hi mom!" Now, Mr. Cosby's version was much funnier than mine. My intention was not to be funny but to make a point.
It does not just happen to fathers.

Ashton is an average size boy. He has always been about 50th percentile for all those measurements that matter - height, weight, head circumference. But as the mother of very skinny girls - weight challenged to be politically correct - he is huge. enormous. gigantic. A big ball of baby weight that I have to lug around all the daylong. So, I made it my goal to teach him to walk. My goal, not his. The thought behind this was as follows; I didn't work at all with the girls. I figured they would walk when they were ready. But, if I had worked, I mean really worked, surely they would have walked sooner. Surely this was true. So I worked with Ashton. I let him walk holding my finger. He did great. I removed the finger. He sat down. I walked with him holding one end of a toy (or towel or washcloth or whatever) and I would hold the other end. He did great. I let go. He sat down. I have a friend who had a daughter a week before I had Ashton. Her little girl (and I stress the word LITTLE) walked at 9 months. She was barely 9 months. My behemoth? Not interested. 10 months came. Nothing. 11 months. This was it I thought. Nothing. Until one day, I had been out doing some errands and Brock's parents were watching the kids.

"Ashton walked from the chair to the couch." Bobby told me. "Oh", I said. "Really? Let's see if he'll walk for me?" I stood him up. Nothing. Hmmm, I thought. Maybe they are exaggerating a bit. Maybe he fell from the couch to the chair. - Now, in the interest of full disclosure my couch and my chair are not really close enough for a baby to fall from one to the other but the idea made me feel better. - I am sure I didn't miss much.

The next day dawned bright and beautiful. I left the kids with grandma and grandpa again and went to finish some of the errands I wasn't able to accomplish the day before. When I got home Bobby began to wax poetic about how Ashton had walked back and forth, back and forth from the chair to the couch all day long with nary a care in the world. Well, this is ridiculous I thought. I want to see. So I stood Ashton in front of me and tried with all my mommy might to get him to walk to me. He sat. I stood him up again and urged, cajoled, praised, and made an utter fool of myself. He sat. I stood him up. He sat. Stand. Sit. Stand. Sit. Nothing. Days went by. Nothing. Brock's parents left and more days went by. Nothing.

And then it did happen. I was cooking in the kitchen with Ashton at my feet. He got up and walked across the kitchen. The whole kitchen and my kitchen is not small. I just stopped and looked at him. This was not the stumbling, bumbling one step here a couple steps there, totter of a beginner but the drunken sailor walk of an intermediate toddler. I knew he could do it, he just.......didn't. And then, as if that were not enough, he got back up on his feet and walked, WALKED(!), out of the room.

Well, despite my obvious irritation over the matter I am glad the boy is now walking. So, to celebrate here is some video of his first steps. Enjoy.

P.S. Look at the area around Ashton. When I say he walked out of the room what I mean I mean is, he walked out of the kitchen, through the dining area, turned a corner, walked down the hall, and out of the room.

Lambie Song

2007-05-15T20:34:00.002-07:00

You know........ There are days I just don't want to be a mom anymore. Days that are tough before 7am. I called Brock the other day almost in tears. "You take them. I don't want them anymore. You come home and take them to work."

"Oh." Brock said. "That doesn't sound good. Is it take your children to work day today?" He was trying to be sympathetic but we both knew that they had been so difficult he didn't want them either.

"Yes." I told him. "It is take your children to work but they don't say anything about bringing them back. You keep them there."

Ahhhhh, the joys of motherhood.

And then there are other days. Brock and I just went to Vegas and were able to see Phantom of the Opera. It was great, the hotel was great and we got to sleep in until 6. We were only gone a day but I started to miss my kids. When I got home I gave kisses and hugs and loved them even-though they were still not all that pleasant. What is that saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Whoever said that must have been talking about their 3 year olds.

Anyway, in my musings I remembered this clip and it brought a smile to my face. It is an old video. The girls are only 2-1/2 but they are cute! Click below to see them sing a soulful rendition of Mary Had a Little Lamb (aka. The Lambie song) with gestures.

Our first swim

2007-05-13T21:14:00.000-07:00

Livvy is our fish. She LOVES the water. You can't keep her out of the pool. She will be turning blue, teeth chattering, and trembling just short of convulsions but she will not get out of the water. "Aren't you getting cold", we ask. "No." Is the answer as she fights to stand on shaky legs all the while waiting for you to be in position to catch her as she jumps in for the hundredth time. Force is often necessary to remove her.

Elle loves to swim as well but she is her mother's child. Her love of the water is tempered by her dislike of being cold. Thankfully the temperature here is close to 100 now (thankfully?) and the water temperature is above 85. She can swim forever and never get cold.

This was taken when Ashton was about 10 months old. He screamed the first time I took him in the pool. Of course, he screamed when the girls went in the pool as well. He screamed when I would try to sit down and dangle my feet in the water or when I would - heaven forbid - attempt to walk anywhere near the pool. Although he now loves to be in the water he is currently enrolled in swimming lessons and is not happy about it.

Our first post

2007-05-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

This is our first official Grayson Family post. I hope this web site will allow us to better share our "daily doings" with those we love. I will try to post funny anecdotes, accomplishments, and activities on a somewhat weekly basis. There will be pictures every once in awhile and links to videos we have taken. Maybe we can make the world a little smaller. With love, the Grayson’s.