I read this quote on a blog:

"One of my sons therapists was telling me about how much trouble they're having with incoming kindergartners who don't know how to do anything but be entertained. According to her, it's kind of an epidemic. Which gives us all the more reason to push against it."

Yikes. Where to begin?

If I lay real still...
Under the ceiling fan...
With the floor fan directed at me...
And close my eyes...
I can pretend to be asleep and it's almost bearable.

3 more degrees and it will be 90 inside my house.

Ugh.

NTS: The Eighties are NOT Back

We took the girls to Skateland for mutual last night. There were several girls there with ponytails to the side of their head, the necks cut out of their shirts and tied up over a colorful tank top. They were wearing short shorts that looked more like gymnastic shorts than anything you would wear in public. Anyway, I turned to the other leader that was there and said, "oh, look at that, ponytails on the side are making a comeback." That made me giggle.

Later in the night we realized that there were several more girls dressed in such a manner. Then there was a kid in a Hawaiian shirt with a fake mustache. And a lady with a jazzy belt around the outside of her shirt. A guy with 2 collared shirts on, both collars sticking up. Oh, and the dude with the giant black wig. The big realization was when it was clear that all these people were together. Apparently it was a youth group of some sort and the theme was 80's dress.

Big sigh. Eighties style is not back. But here I sit, with a pony on the side of my head which will never see the light of day.

Girls and Guns

It is quite obvious that we are a household full of non-gun owners. Neither mother, nor father grew up around guns and therefore the children of this house are completely gun ignorant. For girls this is probably not a big deal. For little PT however, it may prove to be embarrassing as he grows older. Not the fact that he doesn't know anything about guns, but more importantly that he has been subject to the girly version of guns.

Stage #1:

Tasha declared that she was shooting Kyra as she ran through the room pointing her fingers and squeaking "pew, pew...pew, pew". Kyra shot back with an equally wimpy gun noise. PT laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more. He laughed so hard at them that the girls continued the shoot out just to amuse him. The only way I can describe the noise that the girls were making is to say it sounds somewhat like the laser guns that they shoot on Star Wars only much softer, less gusto, and quite a bit higher in pitch.

Stage #2:

After PT stopped laughing, Tasha ran to her room and made a gun. Out of paper. Any boy would have been embarrassed by this thing cut randomly from lined paper that wouldn't even keep it's shape as it was held. More "pew, pew"-ing. More laughing. PT later ate this paper gun and pooped it out this morning. I could see the lines in the paper.

Stage #3:

Tasha made another gun for Kyra so they could be on equal fighting ground. She explained the gun to Kyra so she would know how to shoot it. "Here is the pull thing", Tasha pointed out. Ugh. The 'pull thing'? Do you mean 'trigger' sweetheart? Oh my poor, uninformed children.

Stage #4:

Big sister comes to the rescue to help with construction of a real fighting machine. It makes the same sound, of course, but this time it really has the right shape and can hold it's form. It is made from a pen and a lip gloss and is held together with red duct tape. You're laughing already, but it gets better. The highlight of this fighting machine is that it is a multi-purpose weapon. Because all girls are very practical, the duct tape only covers the main parts of said gun. This strategic placement of the tape allows for the lids to be pulled off of both the pen and the lip gloss. So, if the evil fighting sounds of this gun are not working on the target, one can simply removedthe cap to the pen and quickly write them a nasty letter. Or, replace that cap and remove the lid to the lip gloss, gloss your lips, and go kiss your target into submission.

Now, I've heard friends of mine claim that their boys will turn anything into a gun. They were talking about a shoe, a piece of celery, maybe a bitten pretzel with just the right shape. Give me just one boy that has crafted such a fine tool as my girls have though. I mean, it's not everyone that can fight with shiny lips and write home to tell the family about it, huh?

Pray For You

This song by Jaron and the Longroad to Love came on the radio and I about cried I was laughing so hard... Click here to listen as you read I like several of the comments on the video, especially the one that says how hot Jaron is :)

I haven't been to church since I don't remember when
Things were going great til they fell apart again
So I listened to the preacher as he told me what to do
He said you can't go hatin' others who have done wrong to you
Sometimes we get angry but we must not condemn
Let the good Lord do his job, you just pray for them

I pray your brakes go out runnin' down a hill
I pray a flower pot falls from a window sill
And knocks you in the head like I'd like to
I pray your birthday comes and nobody calls
I pray you're flyin' high when your engine stalls
I pray all your dreams never come true
Just know wherever you are, honey, I pray for you

I'm really glad I found my way to church
Cause I'm already feelin' better and I thank God for the words
Yeah, I'm gonna take the high road and do what the preacher told me to do
You keep messin' up, and I'll keep prayin' for you

I pray your tire goes out at 110
I pray you pass out drunk with your best friend
And wake up with his and her tattoos

I pray your brakes go out runnin' down a hill
I pray a flower pot falls from a window sill
And knocks you in the head like I'd like to
I pray your birthday comes and nobody calls
I pray you're flyin' high when your engine stalls
I pray all your dreams never come true
Just know wherever you are, near or far
In your house or in your car
Wherever you are, honey, I pray for you
I pray for you

Don't Stop Believin'

What is this song even about?
Listen to Journey's version here
Listen to Glee's version here

Just a small town girl
Livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train
Goin' anywhere
Just a city boy
Born and raised in South Detroit
He took the midnight train
Goin' anywhere

A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlights, people
Livin' just to find emotion
Hidin', somewhere in the night

Workin' hard to get my fill
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin' anything to roll the dice
Just one more time
Some will win
Some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlights, people
Livin' just to find emotion
Hidin', somewhere in the night

[Instrumental Interlude]

Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights, people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on
Streetlights, people

Honor Thy Father

Bill's dad came over today for Father's Day. I just love it when he is at his best, and boy was he tonight. Maybe he had a swig of Jack before he came over (I hope not, since he drove), but I think he was just in a good mood. And a good mood for Dad means he's up for some debate. So, what does honoring thy father mean in this house? It means you have to put up a good fight, get heated, and laugh while yelling. It's classic. Tasha even piped up from the living room with, "Mom, are you and daddy having a fight?" while Kyra sat at the table shaking her head because the 3 of us were at it. Immigration, Sheriff Joe, former and current governors, and obeying the law. All good stuff.

The fun thing is that these days Dad is going to church. He declared tonight that he found a church he likes. This makes me giggle, because apparently it takes some searching. Anyway, after some talking about a photo radar ticket he got in the mail, Bill was trying to convince him that if he just ignored it he probably wouldn't have to pay it. I mean, how do they know that you got it, right? After a bit of debate on whether or not you could really do that and if it was an effective way to deal with a photo radar ticket, Dad, "Mr. I've found religion", questions "hey, doesn't your faith have something to say about being truthful and honest?" No comment from Bill. His answer for that is usually something like, "just say 3 Hail Mary's and call me in the morning." Like we even know what a Hail Mary is! I turn to Kyra and ask her to repeat the Article of Faith that has to do with honoring the law. She stalls. Eventually we get to the part about sustaining the law. Yep, I think that covers it.

So, for you Dad, on Father's Day:

Article of Faith #12 of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
"We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law."

Now the real question to all of this is how did Bill rate on Father's day? If he and I were busy entertaining his father with mock arguments who was at the brunt of all this? Bill was, of course. He is typically on the opposing end of these debates as he tries to infuriate his dad with ridiculous arguments. He's done it for years, just to get his goat. It's fun to watch and be a part of and even more fun to join in on. Ah, politics with the family, how I wish his sister had been here. I suppose I'll have to make up with Bill later tonight...but that was the point really, wasn't it?!

Dear Son,

DO. NOT. BITE.

It works like this:

1. You bite.
2. I swear.
3. You cry.
4. No more milk.

Do. Not. Bite.

Love,

Mom

WW: My Guys

PT has "Tough Guy" pajamas. They have a picture of a gorilla holding a barbell over his head. It makes me giggle to think that my 7 month old is a tough guy. He may look the part size wise and I may I call him a "big brute" as he is pulling out my hair and grabbing at my ears and face, but he's just such a smiley guy that you know he's all heart. There's just something special about that kid...

Bill: (as we were driving down Mill Ave) Do all men have to run without their shirts off in Downtown Tempe?

Me: No, just the hot ones.

Bill: Hot, hot? Or ones with enormous pecks?

Me: Ones with enormous pecks.

Bill: Nice. Glad you noticed.

(What can I say? They were hard not to notice!)

WW: Tasha's First Protest Walk

Logic (?!)

I don't know what we're teaching kids in school anymore. I mean really, who decided that they need to understand logic and reasoning to make it in this world? What happened to the the 3 R's? Reading, Riting, and Rithmatic? Oh yeah, someone realized that by calling them the "3R's" we were doing our children a grave injustice by teaching them the wrong way to spell and hacking an entire syllable off a word. Anyway, there is a school, which will remain nameless, that is actually teaching their students to use logic. I think it's awesome when teenagers and even college students use logic to solve all of life's little challenges. You know, if one of them were president things might just start looking up in the world. OK, that was a little sarcastic there (the part about presidents bringing us down, and teenagers solving problems with logic). Here's some logic for ya:

I was discussing the fact that my 6 year old has no empathy. I was surprised to have a friend tell me that you have to teach empathy to some children. I have no idea how to teach empathy, I thought you just had it. Apparently not, so I'm on a quest to learn how to instill this value in her. On this quest (which is not simple, AT ALL!), I am interrogating most of the people I know on whether or not their children had/have it, or if they had to teach it. It's not going well. My latest venture involved a long time friend that I haven't seen in quite a while and her 16 year old son. Her son is one of those guys that can talk circles around you, use fancy words, not really say anything at all, and make you (a grown adult) feel really stupid. Again, awesome. As soon as I pulled out the word empathy he started talking about an essay he just wrote on the subject for his class. At this point he dropped his instructors name about a dozen times, so that just shows you he's in "that" state. The state where he idolizes his teachers and nobody else in the world knows diddly squat. Well, I admit it- diddly here, thank you very much. So he says that the big difference in human beings and all other warm blooded creatures is empathy. Humans have it. Empathy, that is. Then he says, "6 year olds aren't human."

Awesome.

Yes sir, logically speaking, you can make the leap. If A=B, and B=C, then A=C. This simple equation came up after a very lengthy discussion of predicate nominatives, diagramming sentences, and all dogs being heavy.

Logical? Not in the least. But I sure could argue his case for you, if you want. I'm not sure where predicate nominatives fit in to the whole scheme of things, except that "heavy" is one in the following sentence: The dog is heavy.

Back to logic where A equals C.
IF Humans have empathy (A=B)
AND Empathy is not something 6 year olds have (B=C)
THEN 6 year olds are not human. (A=C)

Maybe the logic fails in the negative there. Since B does not equal C, then A can not equal C. It's something to think about though. Obviously, I haven't had a good conversation with anyone in quite a while since this kid has me thinking about this days later. Again I say, "A.W.E.S.O.M.E." I say it mostly because his 4th grade teacher, and my daughter's 4th grade teacher (same lady) banned the word awesome from her classroom. She said it was an overused word. Go figure.

Oh, to be young and naive again. To be able to sit around and think all day. To worry only about getting my homework done and when my karate class starts... oh wait, that was never me. Oh well. To be young and change the world. That's the hope I've lost over the years. Here's to getting it back because Eli, you're right (!), MY "intelligence is endless" too!

"I take responsibility for

my thoughts...

and my intelligence is endless."
-Eli (my friend's 16 year old son)

Yep, Summer is Here

There are the typical signs of summer approaching that we see in Arizona. The signs that involve too much skin and lots of stinky old men. I'm not focusing on that this year. Here's what I've got:

The itch to go camping. Serious, in the woods, away from the highway, no bathroom, ditch church on Sunday camping. It's happening. I'll make it so.

Swimming pools are calling me. This is odd because I'm not a pool person. It must be Payton and his stinky sweaty head. After our first venture to my brother's house when the water was still WAY too cold, we've made 2 more trips to 2 more locations. The question I really have is: why do I not know anyone with a pool that lives closer than a 30 minute drive?

Watermelon. The good stuff should be here soon. I've had a few tastes already, but they are no where near the good, juicy, sweet quality melon that will be coming out soon. Oh, how I look forward to those!

Summer camps and classes. They start next week. Tasha is jumping out of her skin to go back to Kids Kamp and Kyra will be starting a cool art workshop offered by the city. I think we've got a pretty good jump on staying out of the "mom, I'm bored" state of being, at least for June.

4th of July. I wasn't going to go up north this year but now I'm floundering. I think the truth of it was that it really hadn't gotten hot until this last week. May was beautiful. Then we had like 3 days over a hundred in a row and it started to take it's toll. I think by July I'll want a break and sneak my kids off to my mom's. Maybe we'll do the fireworks, although I think they may freak Payton out, maybe not. Either way, we'll probably stay a week so Tasha can go to Bible camp :)

Payton T. Durrenberger, F.V.

I'm wondering how you start off a post about farting. Maybe with an apology? Jaylee, I'm sorry. I'm going to use the f word a lot here.

Payton farts. A lot. He's really good at it and it makes quite the rumble in his cloth diaper. I find that the fitted, colorful, Kooshie cloth diapers are especially good at giving him room for a nice little echo when the fart explodes in his pants. The regular trifold kind of absorbs the noise and acts as insulation, I believe. Anyway, Payton can let out a good fart.

Payton will usually fart at, well... let's just say that he has good timing. It tends to be quiet, and there tends to be quite a few unsuspecting souls around to hear his offerings. Any father would be very proud of the attention that Payton attracts with his farting.

The particular incident I will recount now was not one of these typical Payton situations. His father was not here. There were no extra witnesses to the fart. In fact, what makes this event special is his oldest sister's comments. Well, that, and the fact that the jerk was farting at the dinner table.

So there I was, finishing up my dinner and the explosion happens. Payton farts. It's one of those type farts that has multiple offerings. I don't know my guns very well, but the shots would be spaced pretty evenly and a bit louder than a machine gun. There were maybe only 3-4 shots fired. Of course, the girls were disgusted. Well, not really. Tasha started laughing pretty hard and Kyra let out an exasperated, "PAYTON!" I finished my last bite of dinner and got up to start cleaning up the kitchen. He farted again. This kid had a lot of gas. Tasha and Kyra then started discussing how if they are not supposed to talk about farting at the table, then Payton certainly should not actually be doing it. Then there is another fart.

"Tasha, was that you?" asks Kyra.
"NO!" Tasha replies.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. It was Payton again." Tasha explains with a giggle.
Kyra debates this in her mind for a moment and then says, "Payton is a fart ventriloquist."

So there you have it, my 6 month old has already acquired some initials after his name and he didn't even have to go to school for them. Payton T. Durrenberger, F.V. (Fart Ventriloquist)

Rainbow Tasha...Rainbow Tasha

Go where you want to go

Do what you need to do

Love will follow you.
Tasha graduated from Kindergarten today.
It was a beautiful day.