bombs away!

Roman was jumping off the couch in our unfinished basement and aiming for our bean bag. He’s usually pretty successful but the other day he apparently was not because Greggory scared him so bad that he missed.

Well....

After the hugs and kisses and pats on the head telling him he would be okay things got a little...weird

A few minutes later, at dinner, when asked about his new airplane that he’s been excited to get for weeks, he didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. And then when he called his brother his sister’s name I knew something might be wrong. So I called the nurse. And left a message.

“Um, hi, my son was jumping off the couch and he hit his head and now he has short term memory loss. Do I need to come in?”

(Okay, so, to give me some credit I didn’t have to wait for the nurse to call me back to realize that I needed to have him seen by a doctor. I guess I’m just one of those have-hear-it-to-believe-it kind of folks.)

After driving to the doctor and after Roman asking me, oh, forty-six times: “where are we going, mom?” you guessed it I’m sure. Mild concussion. For jumping off the stinking couch! Granted it was a concrete landing, but still! Usually you think of concussions being gotten after cooler or more dangerous things.

He’s okay, now. Back to his old self again. Except, the only bad thing is that because of the short term memory loss he has no recollection of the jump. Which means that he hasn’t learned any consequences. Which means this will probably happen again.

Sigh.

barf!

Holland wanted me to play pretend puppies with her one morning.

Okay, I said. We’ll play puppies.

She immediately got on all fours and yelped,

“Barf! Barf! Barf-barf-barf!”

Maybe her puppies need to go see the vet.

mmm. ham.

I was at institute the other night.

Institute is a class for adults where you can study the scriptures. It’s also a place for learning and reflecting and spiritual growth. I was doing all of those things and very much enjoying it, too.

Then I get this text from Weston who was at home watching the kids:

(Just disregard the first part...)

Have I mentioned I am a proud parent of two boys?

breakfast

This morning at family scripture study, two year old Holland taught us that a way we learn that the Book of Mormon is true is through the Holy Toast.

Maybe having scripture study during breakfast isn’t such a great idea.

enlightened child

My youngest is just about 2 1/2. That means, culturally speaking, that she needs to be potty-trained any day now.

I am in agreement 100%.

But she is my youngest, meaning that I’m pretty used to changing diapers by now. In fact, I would even argue that diapers are easier than a potty-trained child. (Have you ever had a full cart of groceries in the check out line when your child starts panicking that she or he has to go now!!)?

Even so I realize that she cannot go to preschool still wearing diapers and that countdown is putting pressure on me to get her trained. But I’m not worried, because, again, she is my youngest and the other three are fairly potty-trained--using that term loosely of course--and I’m confident in my abilities.

So I start with the classic: bribery. In my sweetest voice.

“Holland? If you go potty in the toilet, I’ll give you a (wait for it--) a potty treat!” Pause and hold excited face for seven seconds. Wait for positive and enthusiastic response from child. Optional confetti falling down. Optional hug for Mommy for being so generous. (See? I know how to do this. I’ve done it three other times after all.) Piece of cake.

She looks at me stupidly, wrinkles her nose and pouts a disgusted, “eeww!” my way and leaves.

Hmm. Probably have to re-think that whole “potty treat” idea.

so I’ve heard

Ah, the serene life of a mormon mommy blogger. Happily typing away on her clean, no fingerprints here! keyboard about the wondrous life of raising a family. Putting into words the hilarious moments of being a mother accompanied with timeless wisdom for others to read.

And what happens when a kid/s comes in bored or hungry or angry or crying wanting this perfect mother’s attention?

“Be quiet for just one minute! Can’t you see I’m busy! Just give me a break here!! For crying out loud!!”

This is not autobiographical in any way.

hello, again.

I have officially ended my seven month hiatus.

A hiatus, you ask? Doing what? Two words: Home. Schooling. I am not doing this anymore. (More on this later. I am still recovering.)

I can now blog again. And clean the house. And read my scriptures. And water the plants. And take a walk if I want to. And shower. And several other things that were not so feasible when telling the children to write their vocabulary words ten times. Or concentrating on not only teaching my 2nd grader her addition facts (math? bleh!) but not pulling my hair out at the same time.

It’s so nice to see them get on the bus.

But it’s also nice to see them come home. I’m refreshed and welcoming with a warm smile and a hug.