A Fish Story for You

Friday before Father's Day, Dan got off early and we took the kids fishing.

Nate did a little casting, then got bored holding the pole.

So he ran through the sprinklers, peed in the pond, and stripped down to his skivvies.

Pete tried out some solid foods.

Jake didn't mind holding a pole and had several big bites.

Both Gabe and Jake cast and reeled in repeatedly, and amazingly enough, Gabe caught two fish.

Which meant fish for dinner. Again.

Prayer Shortcut

Last night at family prayer, Nate announced he had a new way to fold his arms. "It's a shortcut way," he explained. "I just made it up."

It looked exactly like this. Take your right hand and make the "OK" sign. You know, with your thumb and index finger making a circle, and with the other fingers pointing up? Next make a fist with your left hand, with only the index finger pointing out. Then, place your pointed index finger inside the circle.

Seriously.

When his parents, attempting to keep straight faces, asked him where he learned the arm-folding technique, he declared, in his best Sunday School voice, "From the prophet."

He later elaborated that the hand gesture was also a rocket: "This one blasts off just like this!" You can imagine the motions.


And here's the kicker. Last Sunday we had to meet with the stake president, and we brought all the boys since it was right before church started. Nate was perfectly precocious when he said, "President, have you ever thought of folding your arms like this?" And he demonstrated the classic upward-pointing teepee, you know, fingers together, palms together.

Can you even imagine if he'd demonstrated his new shortcut?

Spring-a-Ling

It's been busy around here.




Jake's kindergarten program. Don't you dare call it a "graduation," because, as he will vehemently point out, he did not graduate since he had to go to school after the performance for the last week. (Is this a kid who has grown up on The Incredibles or what?) We were very sad to say goodbye to Mrs. Maples. (Isn't that the most perfect name for a kindergarten teacher? She's as sweet as it sounds.) I'll miss not seeing her everyday like I have for the last two years, but I won't miss driving to pick-up/drop-off a kindergartener every day.

Jake with his Mom.

Jake with his Dad. See where the dimples came from?

Jake and Nana and Papa D.

McKenna and Jake. Last I heard, she was thinking of changing her last name to match Jake's. Saving this picture for the reception slide show, folks.

Primary Quarterly Activity. The Primary kids performed service to earn money for newborn kits to donate to LDS Humanitarian Services. The Young Women sewed most of the receiving blankets and ward members donated goods, services, and money as well. We were able to make 12 newborn kits. The kids also made coupon books for their moms and enjoyed baby bottle bowling, relay races, and a diaper changing race (we didn't use real babies).


Douglas County Kids' Fishing Derby. Rumor has it, it's the biggest kids' fishing derby west of the Mississippi. They take a creek in the park and stock it with 3,000+ rainbow and cutthroat trout. It was cloudy and sprinkling, so it took longer than previous years, but all three boys caught their two-fish limit. Well, first Gabe caught a tree on the opposite bank. Dan went all Bobby Flay and barbequed up some "delicious trout" for us. Yum. Gabe said it tasted like chicken.

Nate and Papa C.

Jake and Gabe with volunteers. After the tree incident and after we'd yelled at them to move down by the bridge, where everybody was catching fish.

Jake and one of his fish.
I didn't get a picture of Gabe, since he was so ready to get going again.

All day trip to Sacramento for Gabe's eye appointment. We got stuck behind an honest-to-goodness wagon train going up Echo Summit. I just kept thinking, "Man, I knew I should've left earlier." All clear on his eyes, and no appointment for him until December. Wahoo. We even made it back in time, barely, for the final Little League game. I love Little League. I really do. So much so that I'm planning on dedicating an entire post to Little League. Call me on it if I don't get around to it soon.

Surviving a monsoon season and the first week out of school. We live in the desert, so I always enjoy afternoon thunderclouds in the the summer. But we've had weeks of overcast skies and afternoon rain. It's starting to really mess up our picnic-in-the-park plans. And hopefully this week is easier than last week with everyone home together.

Post publish: The rain at our picnic tonight was attributed to "El Nino." I couldn't help but remember Chris Farley, and thanks to youtube I found the clip. Click here.

A Good Start

I'd say the first day of summer vacation is off to a good start. I'm saving now for their future therapy (and mine).

Learn Something New Every Day

On Memorial Day, we christened our new friend "Crush" in the muddy, shallow, and nearby waters of Washoe Lake. We drove through Washoe Valley, which is a stunning and expansive valley flanked by the Sierras on the west, including the distinctive and aptly named Slide Mountain, and smaller, green-tinged ranges on the east, which eventually lead to Virginia City. It would be perfect, but for the cursed wind. The valley is rich with glorious pastures and well-fattened livestock. Spotting a gorgeous speciman on the move, I called out to the boys: "Look at that black horse! He's a looker!"

To which Gabe responded, "How do you know it's a boy?"

"I don't," I replied. "I'm just taking a guess. Maybe when we get closer I'll be able to tell."

Fortunately the horse continued running toward the highway. I spied the evidence. "Yep, he's a boy," I announced.

"How do you know?" queried Gabe.

"Because I saw his thingy . . . you know, his um, um, boy parts!"

"Oh for crying out loud," piped in Dan. "Gabe, she saw his penis."

Now, in all my experience with horses (which I might add is not insignificant), I don't think I've ever referred to a colt's thingy as "a penis." Sure that's what it is, but I much prefer euphemisms--donger, weiner, wizzer, that sort of thing. I still get a kick when I remember the little boy I babysat who, upon petting our young colt, humbly said, "Boy, he's got a BIG pee-gun." Is there a species specific term for a horse's penis? I haven't a clue, although I remember hearing somewhere that a "dork" is the term for a whale's. So I was relating all these thoughts to Dan, and taking nearly as long as this paragraph, when from the back seat I heard Gabe.

"Wa-wa-wait a minute!" he sputtered incredulously. "Are you saying that girls do not have penises?!?!"




Do I need to remind you that he's nearly eight years old?

Do I need to point out that this is clearly a deficiency resulting from having only brothers?

Kudos to Kris

Alright, I'm just letting the entire world wide web know that my vote tonight is going to Kris Allen.

He's cute, he's mellow, he's talented (guitar, piano, viola and ukulele?), and I could actually see myself buying his music. And last week's "Heartless?" Still humming it, sister.

Sure Lambert can wail and has serious stage presence (oh yeah that's right, he's been on Broadway), but I don't think I'd actually buy any album he makes. That, and the white gunk on his tongue last week really grossed me out.

I waited all season for the Johnny Fairplay moment when it would be revealed that Danny Gokey was never really married, but it turns out he was and it's a sad story. Still, I was not the least bit heartbroken to see him go last week--he lost me with "the scream" the week before and the cake fight with Allison. I'm so over cake fights.

So here's my prediction: Kris Allen will win because of the Danny Gokey voters. Clearly, they were those who voted for the nice guy, and Kris is a nice guy. Who can sing. And who's cool.

Whaddaya have to say about that?

Sons of a Mother

Things I've recently said which I know mothers of daughters would never say:

1. DO NOT go down the slide with a drill in your hand!

2. Yes, scissors cut underwear too.

3. DO NOT, under any circumstances, wipe your nose on my sleeve!

4. Hands out of pants, NOW!

5. NO, peeing on the driveway under the Yukon DOES NOT hide your pee.

6. That's the dogs' water bowl; not their pee bowl. (Notice a theme here?)



And I'm quite sure the cards given by daughters on Mother's Day did not include:

Nate, 4 years old

A monster with bombs. It wasn't entirely clear if the bombs were coming from me or the monster; we know it wasn't Nate because part of the picture included his leg getting hit by a bomb. As you can see, he scribbled over the flower his Dad drew for him.

Gabe, 7 years old

Mom driving a robot while taking on a tank. Clearly I'm a woman of many talents, even if it isn't clear who's shooting whom.

Jake, 6 years old

Mom rescuing Jake. This one's complicated. That's Mom with the wild hair and crazy smirk saving Jake from being electrocuted by the robot. Apparently, Mom is using multiple mirrors to bounce lasers back at the robot, who is about to explode. Oh yeah, and that's Wall-e just passing by.


I imagine mothers and daughters spent last Sunday in matching dresses, exchanging flowers and butterfly-adorned cards. But I'll tell you, I'd fight any battle necessary for these boys.