Ah, the Smart Phone!

Today three of my high school boys had a basketball conditioning practice dealio after school. I still had some errands to do, so I took the remainder of my tribe to Costco for gasoline AND to score on the free samples.

Just as I was at the checkout (cashing out our week's savings on necessities of chocolate chips, brownie mix and almonds), my phone started ringing. I didn't recognize the number that called (twice!) so I sent it to voice mail with a text message . . .

Here's the entire text conversation:

Me: I can't talk now, but I can text :)

Me: I can't talk now, but I can text :)

Texter: Who is this?

Me: Didn't you call me?

Texter: Nope

Me: Did you call for an inspection? Leave a VM?

I schedule home inspections for my husband and had noticed a voice mail had been left after the call was made.  I checked my recent calls. I hadn't called the number - the number had called me!  I was dumbfounded!

Texter: Sons

Ah, that's when I realized that my boys were texting me from someone else's phone to let me know they were finished with their practice. And then this expressive text came  -

Texter: I think your sins might have called you

Wow! Major smartphone typo, and yet a lesson in disguise. I responded

Me: You are right . . .My sins are always calling me to repentance :) thx!

Texter: Yeah, . . . they just finished conditioning. Your welcome :) (sic)

I don't think my sons' friend even knew the lesson his smart phone taught me

A Toast, for all it's Worth!

Last week it smelled as if our fridge was going out.

Like something was burning.

Except the burning smelled like really, really bad burnt toast.

So I was confused, because the refrigerator wasn't making odd sounds or sputtering for dear life.

But when I went to adjust the temperature control just a notch to the right, everything shut down.

Like in the movies of the 1970's when the bad guy pulls down the lever to the computer that is housed in a 44800 sq. foot warehouse and everything goes out - sound effects and all?

And that's when I knew we were in for it.

Buying a fridge isn't pocket change.

So my husband came and fiddled while I changed the temperature control some more.  And I consigned myself that by the next morning we would be shopping for a new fridge and I'd be on a MAJOR grocery run.

But before I went to bed, I did place a large cup of baking soda in the fridge.

To absorb the odors, you know.

Because darn it, if my fridge goes out, I don't want it smelling bad!

And the next day, to my GREAT surprise, the fridge was still running,  . . .and still smelling like burnt toast.  Really, really bad burnt toast.  (I know, I said it before, but it was realy, really, really bad!!)

It wasn't until after school when my hungry 15 year old went to make himself a Sloppy Joe. And he had to p.e.e.l. away the hamburger buns away from the light bulb in the very back of the fridge.

Not only had the plastic melted . . .

 . . . But the buns had been toasted.

My son had solved the mystery.

Good news is, we still have a working fridge that DOESN'T smell like really, really, really bad burnt toast.

It smells like bad beans.

Because some forgot to throw away last month's leftovers.

And bad burnt toast smells a whole heck of a lot better that bad beans.

WANTED: A Gas Dryer

Once an appliance repair guy told me that a dryer should successfully dry a load of laundry in not more than 30 minutes. . .

Currently, my 14 year old dryer is taking 92 minutes to dry a load.

NINETY-TWO MINUTES.

In mother math that calculates to: less time to do everything else that needs to get done anyway!  In daddy math it equals out to about a cool 50.6 HOURS A WEEK!!! And that does not include sorting, washing, sorting, folding, putting away, ironing, or hanging up.

Or matching socks.

Or making brownies for dessert.

But I digress. I am in the market for a high capacity, super duty dryer.  One that will take six days of my week and give me back a mere 34 hours so I can spend it on the above mentioned, matching socks. . . and eating brownies.

Mind you, the dryer doesn't have to be new.  And it doesn't even have to match my washer. 

Because I have yet to be invited into someone's house to sit down in the comfort of their laundry room. . . just because the washer and dryer look so matchingly good.

Oh, if you know of a dryer that has a SEEK and FIND sock option, that may give me back an extra hour from matching socks so I can spend it scrubbing the collars of eight, white Sunday shirts.

Bare Skin

The other night our six year old son was going around offering to scratch the backs of each family member with a back scratcher our ten year old got at a school activity.

After doing a great job of scraping the skin off mine, I suggested he go ask if his Dad wanted a back scratch.

"Dad!" he exclaimed, as he dashed to find him. "Dad, can I scratch your back?"

"Sure," my husband replied.

"Well, you'll have to lift up your shirt so I can scratch it on your skin."

Knowing darn well that my husband does not particularly like scratching on skin, I was curious at what the response would be.

"Son," I heard him reply, "How about if you just scratch my back with my shirt down. I really don't like being scratched on my bare skin."

And there was a few second of silence before I heard our son respond with such awe, "Dad, I didn't know you had bear skin!"

Why the FBI Likes to Hire Returned Missionaries

Tonight my husband asks our teenage boys: "Do you know why the FBI likes to hire returned missionaries?"

To which our fourteen year old responds: "Because they are honest and they look good in suits!"

Questions from My Six Year Old

So here are the questions put forth by my six year old this week. . .

#1: Why do you make recipes and not recipoos?

#2: Why do we use shampoo and not shampee?

I'd be glad to entertain any really good answers.

What NOT to Do With A Flour Baby

So several weeks ago my 8th grade son had a Flour Baby project.

10 pound bag of flour + duct tape + 24/7 flour-sitting for a week (which included 3 a.m. calls to the school to verify baby had been fed and changed) = an ever so small glimpse of what it takes to care for a baby.

It was an interesting week to say the least.

But what I was really looking forward to at the end of this week long flour baby project, was what I could do with that 10 extra pounds of flour!!

Copy Cat Krispy Kreme Doughnuts OR Homemade Cinnamon Burst Bread?

So after sitting on the kitchen counter for a few days, I took that flour baby and cut into that bad boy through all the layers of gray, duct tape.

And to my absolute devastation that flour was completely unusable.  Unless you like clumpy and gritty and crave the taste of what duct tape smells like.

So I threw it all away.

All of it.

Ten pounds of once beautiful flour.

No doughnuts. No bread.  But I am happy to report that my son treats his baby sister much better than his flour baby.

Anything other than NO is Y.E.S.

Today my husband and I discussed a little teeny, tiny problem we are having at our house.

According to our otherwise adorable, lively, energetic children, any response to their Yes/No question other than a N.O. - and I mean anything - means YES.

Today for example.

Our five year old asked if he could play a game on the computer.

"I don't think so," I replied, rather firmly.

"Woo Hoo," he skipped off, dancing a little jig and waving his little fingers in the air as a sign of victory. "Mom said I could play the computer."

"Get over here young man!" I ordered. "I did not say 'yes.' I said 'I don't think so.'"

"I know." he smiled. "And that means YES."

Then tonight.

My husband and I were in the kitchen when our teenage son asked if he could download an original YouTube video his friend's Deacon's Quorum made about being a deacon.

"Can I download it tonight?"

"No. It's already past your bedtime," I answered.

"Okay then, how about tomorrow after school?"

"Perhaps tomorrow . . . 'er ," I slowed my pace, got my brain into focus, remembering that anything other than NO is a YES and responded, "No. No you can't download it tomorrow afterschool! But you can do it on Friday or Saturday when your homework is finished."

"What?!" he stuttered incredulously. "But you just said YES!"

That's when my husband and I broke into harmonious laughter.

We now are looking for someone to teach English to our children.

Anyone?

Kid History - Episode 1

Because all of us have or know kids who tell the story from their own eyes . . .

This is my children's FAVORITE Episode.

Getting a Tattoo

Yesterday, while at the pool, my 11 year-old son and I were quite aware of the bevy of tattoos that were parading around. So I decided to try on the next question just for size:

"So," I baited nonchalantly, "what would you think if I got myself a tattoo?"

He turned his head funny at me, scrunched up his extremely tanned nose, looked down at me through his spectacles and with only one, swift sweep of his head, gestured in the negative.

"Dude," I justified. "It will be super cool.  Trust me!  My tattoo will say 'Follow the Prophet.'"

That eked a smile out of him for just a second. Then he casually turned his head and demurely replied "Good one Mom, but that wouldn't be following the prophet now, would it?"

Boo-Yah.

Smart Phones

So I got a smart phone six months ago and I’m finally to the point that I enjoy it.  (Yes, it’s taken me this long.  And believe it or not,  I have only downloaded nine apps.  N-i-n-e.  One of which is the LDS Citation Index.  OH MY HEAVENS it is a fabulous apps). . .

But this post isn’t about apps, it’s about the smartness of the smart phone that is making me look terribly stupid.

So one of the “smart” features on the phone is that while texting or emailing, it tries to take the guesswork out of your thought process and come up with the word you are typing.  Which is great until after it has been sent . . . And believe me, this is not just a one time deal with me.  This is just a preview of my smarts with my Smart Phone.

So the other day I felt so very pleased with my “professional, educated” efforts to send off an email that was worded so carefully. You see, my husband and I have the wonderful calling to train the Ma’s and Pa’s for this year’s Stake Pioneer Trek.  And with Trek just weeks away, many Ma’s and Pa’s email questions and concerns that need to be addressed immediately or sooner.

So, while waiting for two of my sons at the Orthodontist, I was putting good use to my waiting time by using my Smart Phone to respond to some emails.  One of which was to a Pa who is a highly skilled Scoutmaster!  Um, did I happen to mention how very pleased I was with myself for being so good with words and such?

Well, after emailing off an essay worthy of publication, I receive his grateful response.  And in being so happy with myself, I decided to reread my email because I didn’t want to forget how wonderful I am with words when it comes to using a Smart Phone at the doctor’s office.

And to my absolute horror, instead of calling him a great Scouter, the Smart Phone had outsmarted me and referred to this future Pa of Trek as a great Scooter.  A Scooter?  A SCOOTER!

Goodbye pride.  Hello humility humiliation.

Family Fun Alliteration

Alliteration: A sentence that's all littered with the same sound. (Another fun challenge from Cocoa . . .)

See how my seven, silly sons sit in succession on the see-saw?  They are psyched that school has stopped and summer has started!

 And their sibling sisters smiling so sweetly while supper is being served (sans spoon).

The Toothless Twosome takes time out from troublesome teasing and taunting to tout: Touché

Finally, don't let these faces, fraught with frolicking fun, fool you.  For their future is as bright as their faith!

You are SO Good!

So today, my nine year old son thought it would be funny (ha ha) to take a black sharpie and turn a perfectly good T-shirt into a basketball jersey. He put his last name on the back along with a BIG number 18.

Well, my five year old son was in awe when he saw this homemade creation.

Five year old to nine year old: Did you draw that shirt all by yourself?

Nine year old (so proudly): Yup!

Five year old: Man, you are SO good to be able to put your hand back there and write your name and a number without looking!

I'm BAAAAACK

I'll just say this: This post partum recovery has thrown me for a LOOP!

But I'm back and I'm happy to report that on this day I was able to get in and out of Costco with only four gallons of milk and one ginormous can of baby formula.

Nothing else. . .

Okay, I did taste every, last yummy sample Costco had to offer today . . .

So I did take a few extra calories out with me, too. . .

But not bad.

Not bad at all for shopping at Costco.

Duty to God

Currently we have three deacons in our family.

Today one of them woke up with a fever and achy body.

After telling his Dad that he wasn’t feeling well enough to go to Church, my husband asked, “Well, what about your priesthood duties?”

To which our son shrugged his shoulders and responded, “I guess I can’t do them.”

“Well,” I mused, “that means you’ll have to call the deacon’s quorum president to let him know you will not be there today to fulfill your assignments.”

“Really?” he winced.

I nodded.

So our son got up, went into the other room, dialed from my cell phone and called our home phone, asking for his older brother - who is currently serving as deacon’s quorum president - and let him know that he would not be at Church today to fulfill his priesthood assignments.

How. Stinking. Cute. Is. That.

Atom and Eve

Earlier this week I was reviewing class notes with my fifth grade son for his upcoming science test. It was on atoms, protons, neutrons, electrons and electricity.

Me: What is an atom?

Son: One or more electron surrounding a nucleus

Me: What is an electron?

Son: A negative charge

Me: What is a proton?

Son: A positive charge

Me: What is a neutron?

Son: A neutral charge

Me: What happens when an atom loses an electron.

Son: It becomes positive.

Husband (who happened to be listening and jumped right in): Okay, so when an Adam becomes positive what is an Eve?

Son (without hesitation): A negative.

Zion

This afternoon my children posed some really great questions about the resurrection. For instance:

        Will we need to eat after we are resurrected? And what can we eat?
        Will we make mistakes after we are resurrected?
        If we don’t have blood in our bodies, what will we have?

Anyway, the list went on and on.

Some of the questions I was able to answer (such as where did Jesus go when His body was in the tomb).

And other questions I could only answer with a “Wow! I’ve never thought of that before. I don’t know the answer!”

The funniest, however, was when my six year old daughter asked, “Mom, what is Zion?”

To which I responded, “Well, Zion is God’s kingdom on earth.”

She gave me a scrunched up face on that one. So I attempted another explanation. “Zion can also be a place where people live who are of one heart and one mind, and there is no poor among them.”

After a few moments of thought, she looked at me and said, “So what you're saying is that the people have a heart and a mind, but no brains?”

Oh my heavens I laughed so hard.

Umm, I think I need more practice defining the gospel for my younger children!

Funny Things

So here are some recent conversations I have had with my children that have made me laugh!  I thought I'd share.

A conversation with my 5 year old daughter -

Daughter: Mom, what are you going to be after you have the baby?

Me: Well, I don't know.  What do you think I should be?

Daughter: Maybe you could be a teacher. . .

Me: A teacher?

Daughter (after a moment of contemplation) : Um, no, I don't want you to be a teacher.

Me: Oh, why not?

Daughter: Because then you'll have to go to work everyday and do it for a long time.

Me: Okay. Not a teacher, then.

Daughter (after a few moments of thinking it over): I know!  You can be a HOUSEKEEPER!

Me: A housekeeper?

Daughter: Yes!  A housekeeper.  You can do all the stuff around the house Dad tells you to do and then we can be in charge of the baby!

?!?

A Conversation with my 4 year old son -

Son: Mom, I'm going to be a football player when I grow up.  What are you going to be when you grow up?

Me: What do you think I should be when I grow up.

Son: A doctor.

Me: A doctor?

Son: A girl doctor!

Me: Okay.  When I grow up I'll be a girl doctor.

Son (thinking it over for a moment): No.  I don't think you can be a girl doctor.  So what do you want to be when you grow up?

Me: How about a grandma?  Yes.  When I grow up I want to be a grandma!

Son (confused): WHAT?!  A grandma?  That means you'll be O-L-D!

Another conversation with my daughter -

Daughter: Mom, tell me what you did when you were my age.

Me:  Well, when I was your age we didn't have the same things you have today.

Daughter: Like what?

Me:  Well, we did have a TV, but we didn't have a VCR or a DVD player, so we couldn't watch movies.  We didn't have video games to play . . .

Daughter:  . . . Or cell phones?

Me: Or cellphones.  We didn't have cell phones.

Daughter: Were you too poor to have those things?

Me: Well, nobody had those things.  In fact, when I was your age, we didn't even have a computer.

Daughter (now in DEEP thought): Mom, did you have clothes?

Para Bing.  Para Bang.

What was said one night before family prayer

As we knelt for prayer, my husband asked if anyone had something that needed to be mentioned in our family prayer.  Some thoughts were given, including the remembering of certain individuals.  During the conversation my husband said something extremely funny, to which one of our twins, who is 11 years old said, "Whoever says the prayer, will you PLEASE remember to bless Dad so that the thing that is currently crushing his brain will get better."

I laughed so hard.

Houses of the Lord

So today, while driving through the valley my four year son blurts out, "MOM! I can see two Temples."

"Yes!" I respond.  "Do you know whose house the temple is?"

He looked at me blankly.

"I know!" shouted my five year daughter from the back of the van.  "The Temple is Jesus' house."

"That's right!" I said.

After a moment or two of silence as the two of them gazed at the temples before them, I heard her whisper to her brother, "Man, Jesus is so lucky to have so many houses in the world!"

I'm Not THAT Old!

Five-year old daughter: "Mom?"

Me: "Yes."

Daughter: "Was I still in your tummy the first time Jesus came to earth?"

!!?