Monday, February 28, 2011

Helmet Girl, aka: Martha Kent

My family has a good time together. We joke and we laugh. Nine times out of ten, I am the butt of that joke, and the good time is almost always at my expense.

A few nights ago we were out to eat with the boys. As is so often the case, our topic of conversation steered toward comic books. Caleb asked the very thought provoking question of which superhero each of us was most like and who we would be.

We determined that Jacob would be Bart Allen, Kid Flash, because of his mischievous ways and quick wit.

We determined that Caleb would be Spider-man, because of his smarts and his pure heart.

We determined that Jason would be Batman, because, well, he really likes Batman.

We determined that Levi would be Jack Jack from the Incredibles, because that would be cool.

Then it was my turn. There was a lengthy silence while everyone sifted through the countless possibilities. The conversation went something like this:

Jason: Maybe Wonder Woman?

Caleb: No, she couldn't be Wonder Woman. She can't fly. At least not without crying or throwing up.

In case you missed this post, I have a slight fear of heights. Ok, a crippling fear of heights.

Me: I like Flash, and he doesn't fly! I could be Flash!

Jacob: No, that would be even worse than flying. You would crash into things and trip over things and knock people over if you had to move that fast.

In case you're unaware, I'm slightly clumsy. Ok, it's a wonder I've survived this long.

Caleb: That's true. Maybe someone with lots of protective gear. You could maybe be someone that wears a helmet and a lot of armor.

Jason: Or someone that can walk through things. Like Invisible Woman.

Caleb: No, she'd never remember whether or not she was in transparent mode, and then just run into walls.

That whole "pregnancy brain" thing is the biggest misnomer I've ever heard. It does NOT go away after pregnancy.

Jacob: Yeah, plus it probably wouldn't be safe for her to be around Johnny Storm (The Human Torch, Invisible Woman's brother). She'd probably trip and then catch her hair on fire.

They really wanted to drive that clumsy thing home, I guess.

Caleb: Maybe you should stick to someone like Martha Kent. She's safe.

Thanks guys.

In case this isn't proof enough of my endless teasing, please see below picture. This is on the ferris wheel at Elitch's two years ago. The only reason I set foot on that death trap was because I lost a bet to Caleb. It's hard to tell in the picture, but I was crying. That's Jacob pointing and laughing at me. Can you feel the love?

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Levi's Heroes

Levi is absolutely enamored with Caleb and Jacob. And who wouldn't be?! I don't think he could find better brothers than these two. Nothing warms my heart quite like watching the three of them together.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Like Wrestling an Over-sized Meerkat

Why didn't I find these steps in any of the parenting books I read?

1. Place baby on changing table.
2. Place one hand firmly on chest while mastering the one-handed art of un-buttoning, un-snapping, un-tying, un-insert verb of your choice here with the other hand.
3. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
4. Re-place one hand firmly on chest while mastering the art of un-diapering said baby.
5. Grow a third or fourth hand with which to Try desperately, but fail to restrain little grabby baby hands from dirty diaper or dirty diaper region.
6. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
7. Place entire forearm across baby's chest in what must resemble some sort of rehearsed WWF move to onlookers.
8. Use free hand to bat away little grabby baby hands, while simultaneously using a wet wipe on diaper region.
9. Wrestle wet wipe away from baby.
10. Wrestle wet wipe container away from baby.
11. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
12. Wrestle wet wipe container away from baby.
13. Curse myself for making the decision 10 months ago to not get the changing table with that which I then considered "excessive" shelving/drawers.
14. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
15. Summon superpower speed in my right hand with which to slip new diaper on and fasten tabs before baby realizes he's on his back again.
16. Move baby to big bed for more space to dress him.
17. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
18. Slip shirt over baby's head in one fell swoop.
19. Remove shirt collar from baby's mouth, who slyly intercepted my fell swoop to victoriously claim shirt as his new teether.
20. Place baby once again in above mentioned WWF sleeper hold
21. Thread fingers of my free hand through shirt sleeve, which is now located between baby's shoulder blades as he has somehow thwarted my sleeper hold grip and is on his dang belly again.
22. Try to flip baby with one hand, but lose progress of the other hand through shirt sleeve in the process.
23. Repeat steps 20-22 approximately 8 times.
24. Successfully assume stance with one hand posed and ready with fingers through shirt sleeve, and the other hand firmly gripped on baby's arm prepared for insertion.
25. Plead with baby to please bend his elbow.
26. Gently force baby to bend elbow, all the while fearing that this may constitute child abuse.
27. Insert arm number one
28. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
29. Repeat steps 20-27 as many times as necessary until arm number two is in position.
30. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
31. Thread my hand through one pant leg.
32. Assume WWF sleeper hold stance while snatching corresponding baby leg through said pant leg.
33. Avoid thinking cuss words after realizing the wrong leg is now in the wrong pant leg.
34. Redo steps 30-32 with all the concentration I can muster.
35. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
36. Redo steps 30-32 with remaining leg.
37. Redo steps 30-32 with first leg, which baby has pulled back out of the pants sometime during step 36.
38. Flip baby back over to face-up position.
39. Repeat step 37 as many times as necessary until maximum frustration level is reached, or until baby lands a solid kick in the gut requiring that I stop to catch my breath.
40. Convince myself that 10-degree weather is perfectly warm enough to go pantsless for the day.

Anyone out there in Blogland have advice/tips/WWF moves that I am unaware of to assist in the changing and dressing of a very mobile and very energetic little boy?

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Grandmaster Conversationalist

Jacob: What's your favorite food?

Me: Hmmm... that's a good question. I like so many different kinds of food!

Jacob: Yeah, but what's your very very favorite? You have to pick one.


Me: Ugh. I don't know. I guess Mexican food.

Jacob: What kind of Mexican food?

Me: Anything in a tortilla...?

Jacob: Lots of stuff comes in tortillas.


Me: Enchiladas. I like enchiladas. They're my very favorite.

Ha, un-check.

A couple minutes later:

Jacob: What's your least favorite food?

Me: I don't know. I like most everything.

Jacob: Yeah, but what's your least favorite?


Me: Hmmm...mustard? Chocolate? No. Licorice. Definitely black licorice. I can't even stand the smell of it.

Un-check. Safe again.

Jacob: Would you eat black licorice if it meant that you got to eat endless enchiladas after that?

Me: Yes, yes I would. (Hey, so what if I have no principles. Endless enchiladas? I'm in.)

Jacob: Would you eat enchiladas if they had black licorice in them?


Me: Aw man... that's tougher. Those sound pretty gross. But yes I would. Because I could pick the black licorice out. And then I would just be left with tasty, tasty enchiladas.

Un-check. He'll never beat me.

About ten minutes later:

Jacob: What if there was a pile of poop next to them? Would you eat them then?