Better Late than Never?

In one instant Deeter proclaims, "My butt hurts." And in the next I'm making a sickening discovery. I walk over to scrape the last bite of yogurt into his spoon. But I stop short as I look at the discolored remains on the bottom with a completely different texture than the yogurt I opened. "You have got to be kidding me." I stared in shock- to think what I have been depriving my kids of all these years. Ok ok, or maybe less dramatically, just all these months. It's like giving them macaroni without the cheese, PB without the J, Oreos without the milk. This Stonyfield Yo Baby brags their own product to be "Love on a Spoon." Well I'll tell you what....there ain't no love if mama ain't stirring and this mama hasn't been stirring. That's right, we're talking about the fruit-on-the-bottom variety. And it's hard to pinpoint the exact moment I lost that specific brain cell responsible for relaying memos of this kind- you know, "stir before eat"- but most likely it took it's death ride out the birthing canal {ironically} right alongside Kaia Marie. And these kids have been suffering ever since.

I pulled myself back into reality, went to fetch the subsequent yogurt Deeter was requesting, peeled back the top and before relinquishing ownership, I took his spoon and gave that yogurt the stir of a lifetime. "Here you go, Mr. Deetz. And stop saying 'butt'. Two-year-olds don't say 'butt'."

Happy Friday ya'll and stay tuned for a "reveal" on Monday {assuming I get the good pics, oh but I will!}....ahhh I've been dying to share!

In case you need a laugh....

......take your pick.


-I bent down to pick up Kaia's car seat, threw my arm under the bar, went to stand up........but somehow just got dropped. And went down. On my bum. And then kinda rolled back. All in slow motion. Oh why yes, thanks for asking.... of course I was in public.


-I took the kids for frozen yogurt. They yogurted and topped and we went to pay and I pulled my $20 $2 out of my pocket..........awkward.  I mean are they really going to throw away the yogurt that only we can consume? We had an uncomfortable 2 seconds of eye contact as we looked for the next step. {I don't know how that $3 hid itself in my stroller but thank you.}


-There's this crazy lady that walks around our town with a baby in a Bjorn, one in a stroller, and usually a couple more walking alongside. She gets quite a few "looks". Well, yesterday the smallest boy took off across the street at a semi-busy 4 way stop with no adult in tow. A policeman came out of the woodwork and swooped him up before a car could run him over.............. You already know where this is going. Imagine the death looks I was getting now that they thought the crazy lady couldn't even take care of all her dang kids. As if I wasn't already humiliated....


-Dallin came home from his friend's house telling me about a little tiff- how he got an interception, and how "Harrison was complaining like hell."  I had Dallin B on the phone with his dad in about 2.2.  "No no no, Dallin...verBAtim. You tell your Daddy VERBATIM how the story goes." {"Mom, Dad won't stop laughing...."}


And that's a wrap. Happy Friday!

How to Cuss like a First Grader

One of the perks of having a first grader is you always stay up to date on the lingo. The other day Dallin came out in a new basketball outfit and Porter told him he looked hot. Dallin proceeded to inform him, "Porter, you don't say hot for a boy. You say 'sick'. K, you look sick." Porter lapped up the lesson like the hungry little brother he is.


The other day I learned of a new naughty word on the market. Once again, courtesy of our first grader.
DB: "Mom, did you know peanut butter is a bad word?"
Me: "It is?"
DB: "Yea, it is. Okay cuz 'pee'- you know, like you gotta take a pee. Then 'nuts'. You know what those are, right Mom? You know, your privates. Ok, and 'butt'. Then, -er. See, it's a bad word." 


And all I could think about... "my son is talking to me openly about n-u-t-s? He still doesn't know that could be a little bit weird? This is good. I don't think I gave the secret away. Keep a straight face. Hopefully we can keep this open communication going a few more years...."

(PS I'm supposed to be at the gym right now. Instead I'm at the computer in defeat, I have a half-dressed 2 yr old recooping in front of a show after way too much crying and it's only 9:30 am, and a beautifully dressed pumpkin princess rolling around on the ground waiting patiently for her big brother to pull it together. Where's my Diet Coke?........)

Lost in Translation- sometimes it's better

Oh the Brazilians came. And they are just as exotic as "Brazilian" sounds. Beautiful people who "adoro" everything. (No.....Les adoro a Uds.) I haven't seen my husband this happy in.......wait....ever? Whoa that's a little bit weird. Anyways I'm rarely on the other end of the language barrier issue and I'll tell you what, it was definitely a blast from the past to those first weeks as a missionary in Uruguay. The three of them talked a million miles a minute in Portuguese but when I was around they were ever so polite and we did the best we could without a common language. We fumbled around in a Portuguese/English/Spanish rotation and laughed when there was no sense that was going to be made of whatever was just said that we didn't understand. Comprende? 

But sometimes we did make sense of what we just misunderstood...and that was funny. Like when we were kicked back after eating way too much meat at the Churascaria. I asked Rafa if they do exercise at home cuz it only seemed appropriate to talk about how in the world we were gonna get off the extra 10 lbs we just put on. Rafa flashed me that beautiful Brazilian smile, politely said, "Yes," and in less than a millisecond was already staring her husband dead in the eye, begging for support. I quickly turned to mine as well. "She thinks I said something embarrassing," I whispered wide-eyed.  Support she got as Fogo offered an answer without skipping a beat, "Yes we make sex at home......and we make sex in your house!" Seal that in with a laugh and a wink and ain't nothing more to be said.  Oh yes, the Brazilians came!