A Night Out with Daddy in which He Tries to Kill my Children

I got a new calling. I am very excited about it, mainly because it involves people my own age and getting to be involved in spiritual discussions again. (You know, the kind that don't involve the sentence, Do you have to go to the bathroom?) So after two and a half years as the Nursery Coordinator, they have now switched me over to be the Relief Society Secretary. I am not even sure how Relief Society works anymore, but if it is at all what it used to be, I will quickly pick it up again. My main problem is spelling secretary. I always add an extra 'T' which makes it secretarty. (I guess that fits my personality better. I've always been a little tart. Wait, that doesn't sound right. Moving right along.)

Tonight I had some training which is boring in itself and not really what this post is about. See, this post is about Tyler trying to kill my children while I am away. He so generously offered to take the five snuggets off my hands, so I could actually hear what the Stake Relief Society Secretary had to say, and I assumed this meant that they would do some innocent/safe family activity. If only. The original plan was to go to the park, but what with the fabulous thunderstorms we have been having, plans had changed.

Instead, Tyler took them to the Bean Museum. I know it sounds harmless enough, but I have proof. In fact, Tyler took the pictures that I will be showing the judge when I sue for full custody. Let's start off with this little gem:




Tyler was downloading pictures when I spotted that picture on the computer. My first thought was, Oh how funny, they went to the gift shop and Tyler put that fake Tarantula on Pearl. Then as he flipped through the pictures, I saw that the position of the spider changed. And being that it was the Bean Museum and they have regular animal shows, it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

I about screamed! This man who seems rational put a LIVE TARANTULA on my BABY! Granted, she was asleep, but that doesn't stop the thing from possibly eating her alive. There are so many things wrong about that picture.

Okay, I know Tarantula's are normally very docile creatures unless provoked. But come on. On my baby? I can understand these twits getting involved, although I thought I had taught them better than this.



How many times do I have to tell them NOT to touch spiders? Robyn and Ivory are even smiling. What is wrong with these children? Daisy was the only one who seems to have heard anything I said. (Which is rather ironic, since it is Daisy after all.) Dad says that she wouldn't touch it. (Good girl.) I don't think this face is related at all, but this is what my face would look like if someone asked me to hold that Tarantula.



I still shudder even thinking about it. I pride myself on smashing spiders that dare to come within five feet of my baby. I don't like doing it, but this mother has to protect her cubs. And then Tyler goes and puts a enormous spider inches away from her face. I don't know about Pearl, but I am scarred for life. Tyler is probably glad I stayed home, because you know I would have ruined all the fun had I been there.

And truthfully, I shouldn't make such a big deal about it, because the girls love to tease me and I had all these pretend spiders (their hands) walking up my back and arms when they got home. Joyous, I tell you.

Moral of the story: Do not allow your husband to take the children without supervision. I am going to have to make a waiver for him to sign before he leaves with the brood again.

It will read, I will not take my children into any situations that may be life threatening or deemed such by my wife (i.e. skydiving, freeway crossing, streaking, letting huge Tarantulas crawl on them, etc.) Wait, Daisy does the streaking thing weekly in the neighborhood. I guess I will have to revise it.


p.s. Check out how cool this snake is.



No, I am not a hypocrite. Snakes are cool. Spiders are not.

Oh, and this picture is just funny.



*No children were harmed in the making of this post. Wife is still debating what to do to husband.

Foot's Day

Yep, it is June's Bear's birthday again. He turned four, although all day she thought he was five until I checked the blog and told her he was three last year. She reluctantly agreed that he must be four then. So Foot actually lost a year today. He is aging backwards. I must learn his secret.

We did the cake and candle. (And yes, June has been stealing Daisy's Baby's clothes to outfit Foot.)



Last year we got Foot a gift for himself, but this year, we got him something he could do with June. Look how sweet she is helping him open it.




Okay, so we bought ourselves a game, but to be fair, we did play it with June and she did kick our trash. It is a good thing that I am an okay loser, because from here on out I think it is going to be a regular occurrence.

On the plus side, there is now another Cazier who could take the win. We play often with neighbors and we all know the next best thing to winning is at least having someone in your family win.

Happy birthday Foot. Thanks for making June so happy.

Stylist in Training

I admit that with five girls, I do not always get everyone's hair done for church. Today was no different and I think I got three out of five looking mostly presentable. June's hair was just down, which is how she prefers it anyway.

During the first meeting, she asked me for some hairties, but I didn't think much of it. Until I saw this.



She was leaving Sacrament Meeting and I saw her hair and asked, "Um, what's with the hair?" Her response, "I did it."

You certainly did, June. Maybe not the way I would have done it, but nonetheless, there is a unique style to it. She experimented with other dos when we got home.



I think she has potential, but I will make sure to do her hair first next Sunday.

We Took the Minis Mini-Golfing

I heart miniature golfing. It was something we did fairly often when I was a kid. The place we went to had ribbons for everyone that played and let me tell you that I got very sick of the white 'fourth' place ribbon. (There being four people in my family.) And I remember that when I finally got the 'third' place ribbon, my sister refused to play anymore. (Fine by me, less people to beat.) Eventually, I was a real contender and I would consistently take the second or first place ribbon. Needless to say, miniature golf holds a special place in my heart.

I have taken my girls before, but I think Ivory was a baby, so it has been a while. So it was all new for the girls, but they took to it quickly. Both June and Robyn did a very good job.



Ivory got bored and watched after the first few holes and Daisy was a constant obstacle. She would randomly walk across the course, so you had to time it correctly to not run into her; much like the door on the windmill. Speaking of the windmill, Robyn got our only hole-in-one there, unless you count mine on the last hole.

It was a close competition, but after all these years, I've still got it. Here you can see Tyler in the background rechecking his math seeing if perhaps he won after all. (NOPE.)

Pioneer Day Weekend, a.k.a. Fluid Fest 2010

It takes time to blog. And time seems to be eluding me recently. It is there, as time always is, adding to my white hairs, taking my sleep, and making my babies grow. But I can't seem to get a grasp on it. My time has been sucked into housework, reading, playing, and looking at the computer with a guilty expression.

But tonight I am back, to let you know that not much can keep me from blogging. This weekend was definitely trying what with all the yuck we were cleaning up. If it can come out of a child (or a dog), it did this weekend. We cleaned up blow-outs, diarrhea, vomit, snot, and blood. Gladly, none of our children were sick, so that means the dogs got the short straw this time around. Sadly, the dogs are not the best about making it to the bathroom. Actually, they can't even make it to the vinyl. (The carpet may need a professional cleaning again.) Oh, and I say dogs because we were dog-sitting this weekend and lucky for us, both neighbor dog and our dog got the runs.

The blood was a sad story in itself. I was chatting with Tyler on the phone in the morning and Robyn was calling me from upstairs. I heard repeated "Mom"s from upstairs and since it never fails that I will be interrupted while on the phone, I stubbornly ignored her. As I got off the phone, I finally yelled up the stairs, "You can come down and talk to me instead of just yelling my name over and over."

A more subdued voice answered, "I have a bloody nose."

Oops.

I ran upstairs. Poor Robyn was sitting on the top bunk. Her sheets were covered in blood and she had a puddle in her hands that she was diligently trying to hold. So gross, I tell you. By the time I grabbed a bowl to catch the handful of blood, it had already congealed. Seriously nasty. She pulled her hands apart and nothing moved. (Maybe I should have gotten off the phone earlier.)

Are you all grossed out yet?

Some of this weekend's fluid-fest involved potty training Daisy. Or, NOT potty training Daisy. She knows when she has gone, and asks for a diaper change, but I have failed to get her to do anything IN the potty. I think this means that she is not quite ready. I will continue to change diapers on demand, but until we get some substance in the toilet, it is not my cup of pee. It was handy that the weekend was very sunny and she spent a lot of time outside. (Easier on the carpets, since she also has not managed to go on the vinyl.)



And in the less disgusting news, Pearl has learned to roll over. I can't believe how much I love her chubby cheeks and her dimpled smile. I truthfully have not given her an over abundance of floor time, because I am either holding her or letting her flail around in the bouncer. (Man, that child can kick a blue streak.) I have noticed her thinking about rolling for a few days and today she just plopped right over.

Tonight at FHE, we also finally introduced a 'minute-to-win-it' game. I been wanting to try one out on the kids for a while. We did the "bite me" challenge where you pick up progressively smaller paper bags with only your teeth. June was our clear winner being able to do all five sizes in under 14 seconds.



Tyler was the clear loser, not being able to pick up the third bag at all.



Flexibility may not be his forte. I shamelessly got the camera out after my turn. (Although I did get all five bags.)



Earlier this weekend, neighbors brought over the biggest marshmallows I have ever seen. They didn't last long.



Tyler is apparently better at stuffing an entire mega-marshmallow in his mouth than bending over and picking up a bag with his teeth.



We all have talents somewhere.

Two Hot to Handle

Daisy turned two the day we left for Martin's Cove. (And those pictures will come eventually, I promise.) We did not do an ounce of celebrating beforehand because we were too busy packing and planning for the epic trek. Plus, Daisy had no idea it was her birthday.

Even when we celebrated a few days later, she was still not quite sure what was going on. We got her some balloons. (Two, as per tradition.)



June is getting good enough at the piano that she accompanied Dad in playing Happy Birthday. (That right there made all the lessons worth it so far.)



In the evening we opened presents, which were very Daisy specific.



She loves babies.



She has one that she packs around and she is always asking to change her diaper. So this time around, we got her a baby that comes with diapers.



June got her a high chair, Robyn got her a change of clothes, and Ivory got her a new stroller.



Daisy was in baby heaven.



Although I really think her favorite present was the new bike. (Since I may have run over the old one with the car. Oops.) Tyler made her close her eyes before the big reveal.



She still isn't sure how to use the pedals, but she knows it is hers and she loves it all the same.



My favorite part of her birthday was probably my total laziness when it came to the cake. I had made a cake the day before, so I wasn't really thrilled with the idea of making two cakes back-to-back. So I grabbed some of those packaged brownies, and it made the perfect little cake for the Dais.



I didn't even feel guilty. She ate the sprinkles first and in this picture you can see why we haven't done the birthday photo shoot yet. We are waiting for those darn mosquito bites to heal from the trek.



And now she is officially two. She has been acting two for quite a while, but the girls keep reminding me that she wasn't there yet. Now, even she can tell you that she is two. Unless she is being a stinker and then she will tell you she is 'free'. I tried to get her to hold up two fingers and this is the best we got.



Love you little duck.

Count 'Em. One, Two, Three

I missed my own blogoversary. My blog button wasn't working earlier and by the time I came back tonight, it already reads 364 days until my next blogoversary. How sad that I missed it. However, that doesn't change the fact that I have been blabbing away for three years now. What can I say, it makes me happy.

Thanks as always for reading.