Afterward to the Bike Riding Tale

He did it. Eli biked all the way around the block, starting on his own and with no stops, fulfilling his end of a bargain that earned him a new Slip'n'Slide. He would have done it two tries before, but the first time Curtis somewhat disgustedly reported, "He got distracted by the Nerf Reactor on Ryder's grass and had to stop!" And the second time he got distracted by trying to yell backwards at Gideon who was following him, got off balance and stopped again. But the THIRD time we told him to FOCUS and he made it!

That afternoon, as an overcast sky brought lower temperatures and small gusts of wind, we started to set up his new Slip'n'Slide. As fate would have it, the 90 degree weather we had three days ago was unseasonably warm and the 70's we have now are more normal for this time of year. I gently suggested it might be too cold. Eli's response, "It feels hot to me Mom!" I couldn't talk him out of it. I turned on the hose and saw him behold the water cascading in artistic arches over the ribbon of yellow plastic with an ecstatic smile on his face. After a few minutes I asked him, "Aren't you going to try it out?" Silence. Finally, "It looks pretty wet." "It's supposed to be wet," I encouraged. "Go get your swim suit on and try it out!"

I left it at that and went in the house to find his suit. With suit on I sent him out again. The next time I went to check on him, he was standing alone on the grass, wet and shivering. I asked him to show me how it worked. He executed a tentative tippy toe run toward it, then flung his body forward and stopped in the spray, jumping out as fast as he could. He looked at me and proclaimed, "I don't like Slip'n'Slides mom."

Later I saw Curtis braving the frigid temperatures to try out the marvel of watery fun. I'm pretty sure Curtis was the one who told Eli that Slip 'n' Slides were awesome! He thoroughly enjoyed all three minutes that he played on it, then he was undone by the chattering and grabbed his towel.

As I reflect on this little slice of Eli's life, I am satisfied that the means justified the ends. Now Eli wakes up at 7 a.m. fully ready to jump on his bike and ride. He's a little speed demon and getting lots of wholesome fresh air and exercise. That is worth the price of a Slip'n'Slide every time.

Go Speedracer!

Eli is an anomaly in this family. We've often expressed concern that he wasn't quite as quick on the uptake as some of our other children. I suppose that still remains to be seen because who knows what the next few years will reveal. The strange thing about him is that when it comes to physical adventures and abilities, this kid rocks! For a long time he was a real daredevil. He's gotten a little less so upon entering his whineyhood. But he took to riding a trike with ease compared to his older brothers and sisters. Recently he got disgusted with his three-wheeled scooter and moved on to his older brothers' razor scooters. I didn't think it would last, but next thing I know, he's coasting down the sidewalk!  When I saw a neighbor's four year-old daughter riding a two wheeler, I hatched a plan to set a new record for youngest bike rider in the family (not a hard record to break -- I think Zach was six, the bubbies were 6 1/2 and Curtis was 7!) When I told Eli about Sophie, the two wheeled bike riding genius girl, he started begging Ren to take off his training wheels. Two days later, (and a little bribe to keep up the incentive), he's riding like a crazy man! He just has to figure out how to get started on his own, but he worked on that for a LONG time today and will have it tomorrow, for sure. When he can start on his own and ride all the way around the block, I promised him I'd go buy a slip'n'slide (it has to be now before the water in the hose comes out scalding hot!) I took some pics of his accomplishments and Ren did a video. He may not be the sharpest crayon in the Byers Box when it comes to things like logic and cause and effect, but he can whoop all those other Byers boys when it comes to pure athletic talent. Good for you Eli!


It's a good thing Curtis was around so he could show Eli the advanced tricks. Curtis is now the pro after being a bike rider for four whole months!

Here's Curtis performing his spectacular, "Flying Dead Man!" I'm going to have a Circus on my hands when he and Eli get done with their adventures!


Here's the video:

Spring/Summer is Here!&*%*@%@!!!

Cody experiencing Arizona freezing water torture

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I can't believe I'm hearing about everyone's snow and record lows. It's just not right. We hit 91 degrees today and the kids decided it was time to swim. I use the term swim loosely of course, especially where Gid is concerned. He was the instigator ("Schwim, Schwim!") and so I got him all dressed in his swimsuit and new swim vest (so when he fell in he would bob up and down long enough for me to fish him out.) I did NOT put on a bathing suit -- I really don't like swimming unless it is HOT (and 91 degrees isn't that hot, unfortunately) and the water isn't frigid (probably around 70?) I was worried about the absence of a swim diaper in Gid's swim ensemble, but needlessly so. Swim for Gid means: fill a bucket of water from the side, dump it, run around to the deep end, find an old rubber snake, throw it in the water, grab a handful of rocks from the landscaping and run away from mom really fast and throw them in, grab the pool pole, nearly decapitate your brother while angling it into the pool, repeat. He had a blast. Me, not so much. Curty did a little floating on a pool tube. Cody took 15 minutes to slowly submerge then declared himself finished. Jonah followed suit, never submerged and left. I finally gathered up Gid to leave (after cleaning up every tiny thing that could possibly be thrown into the pool) when Eli showed up. Argh. So we started over. Someday I vow I will have a relaxing time lounging by the pool. Someday far, far, FAR into the future.

I took some pics with my cellphone to try to capture the moment. Pics from my cellphone are mediocre at best, but what the hey. As far as I was concerned the moment was mediocre at best.

Eli during his five minutes of fun

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Gid bent over the side to throw the Pirate Rubber Duckie into the deep end (8 feet)

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Curty kicking around on the tube -- I think he actually had fun, good for him!

More Fish Stories

Our world is turning into spring and we've been outside a lot lately. The other day, Curtis waylayed a heavily tattooed fisherman at the lake who took pity on him and gave him a worm for his pole (which he ran home to get). He then showed Curty exactly where to cast and in less than a minute Curty had hooked a monster minnow (at least 3 inches!) The fisherdude was using the little fish for bait, so Curty would hook them and then fisherdude would take them and cast them out for bass and catfish.

This was such a positive experience that we are now obsessed with fishing (we, not really meaning me, but it's nice to sit out on the grass and read while the kids are having fun.) We also discovered from this that a cup of worms, purchased at Wal-mart, is a great tool for keeping a two year-old entertained. The possibilities are many and exciting! First, while in the store, if the two year-old is ready to climb out (which is always!) you can open the cup of worms and let him spend many happy minutes poking the worms and watching them squirm. Later at home, when he's bored or cranky, open up the fridge, pull out the worms and repeat the poking process! What fun! At the lake, he will discover that pulling them out of the cup with pliers is endlessly exciting, but cutting them into pieces with scissors is also highly diverting! Ah, the cup 'o worms, a must have for every toddler's household! =D

After our trek to Wal-mart for worms, we went fishing again and Curty caught 8 fish in a row (to be released back in the lake.) Jonah and Cody showed up later and caught a few also. I tried and failed, as did Ren. (We were using Eli's Lightning McQueen fishing pole which he got for his birthday, so I'm happy to blame it on the pole.) I'm not sure I see the appeal in catching oodles of little fish only to throw them back, but I have to admit I had hoped to feel a bite on my hook.
I'm sure we'll continue to fish until the blazin' hot sun forces us back into our cave. Then those poor little fish can nurse their sore lips in preparation for the next fishing season. Do they tell stories too about the worm that got away or their adventures out of the water? Those would be fascinating fish stories for sure!

Talk about a Weird Weekend!

My mom spotted this little guy in my potato bin. She named him Quid and gave him a body and a hairdo. I think he's symbolic of the weird happenings of: 

MY CRAZY WEEKEND WITH MY PARENTS

Just a little update. My mom was here for two weeks and on Valentine's weekend my Dad flew down to join her. Some of you may recall that this is surreal because last year at this time, my mom was here and my dad flew down to surprise her for Valentine's Day. That night she got desperately sick and by the next night was in a coma at Mercy Gilbert Hospital with spinal meningitis! It was scary, bizarre and tragic, believe me. After two weeks in the hospital and another month of recovery we sent her home and she's been recovering ever since. 

All of us recognized that it was a little eerie repeating the experience, but I figured it would be much better to rewrite history with a great Valentine's trip from my dad, one in which my mom actually spent it healthy and happy in my house. (It's not too much to ask for, right?) Things didn't start out well. Ren was supposed to pick my Dad up from the airport Thursday night after teaching a class in Phoenix. Unfortunately, he locked his keys in the car and called me to rescue him. I got stuck in traffic on the way, then after picking up my Dad and driving to Phoenix to unlock Ren's car, my Dad and I got lost on the way home. I got a little disoriented in the dark (on a freeway I don't drive very often) and missed my exit, heading to Tuscon.  My Dad's plane had landed at 7 p.m. but we didn't get to my house until after 11 p.m. 

Over the weekend we had many exciting adventures. First there was the bathtub overflowing and leaking  into the basement.  Then we were waiting, waiting, waiting to all go out to lunch when Zach and Hannah had a break in their drumline practice. When they called, they only had fifteen minutes to eat so we threw everyone in the car and made a crazy run with all 11 of us to get them food. Ren drove his car so he could take them back quickly, but he got into a fender bender in the parking lot. That afternoon my Dad wasn't feeling well. He ended up passing a kidney stone later that day and missed Zach and Hannah's band competition. 

We had a great Sunday with Jonah and Cody getting the Aaronic Priesthood as deacons and passing the sacrament for the first time (it's a church thing) and Zach becoming a priest (another office in the priesthood in our church -- for the 16 and 17 year-old boys.) But on Monday we were late getting my parents back to the airport and my Dad missed his flight home. He and mom were stuck in opposite sides of the airport (they had flown separate airlines because of utilizing two separate travel credits), but unable to see each other. He didn't want me to feel bad, so he didn't call me to tell me he was stuck in Phoenix all day. 

Whew! It was a strange whirlwind three days -- not the tragedy of the year before, but not the ideal picture I had in my head that was supposed to replace last year's experience. Oh well. Note to self:  I should stick to my policy of no expectations and enjoy what may come. Thanks for coming Mom and Dad, craziness or not, it was fun to see you both.

My Valentine's Present to the World -- 25 Random Things about Me!

LOL!!! Just kidding, I just thought it would be a departure from the norm to be totally full of myself on Valentine's Day and post something about me, me, ME! I've been tagged 23 times on Facebook to do this, so I'm finally giving in. (I needed a long time to think of 25 things -- I'm getting older and slower, dontcha know?)

1. I once worked as a phone solicitor for a funeral home/cemetary. I only lasted about 3 weeks, but I managed to sell my parents a plot. My employers were sad to see me leave, they said I was the best they'd ever had! (I'll put that on my resume!)

2. I have recurring nightmares about being a cheerleader again, only I'm pregnant and when I try to do a toe touch, I fall. Everybody else is still cute and young and I don't make the squad.

3. I got my first ticket a week after my license. I saw the lights flashing behind me, but I thought they were an ambulance and was shocked when the car pulled up behind me and shone that horrible floodlight into my window.

4. I think my hubby looks most hot when he's all dressed up in a jacket and tie. Mmmmm....love it!

5. I love cold cereal but it can NOT be soggy! I will eat at breakneck speed to finish before sog sets in, not stopping for phonecalls, crying children or blood! I think Peanut Butter Crunch is my favorite.

6. I often wish I lived back in Victorian times and could dress up in those fancy dresses with the bustles, you know, like Kiera Knightly in The Pirates of the Caribbean (before she lost her clothes.)

7. When I was six I decided not to like hamburgers or pizza, just because I wanted to be different from everybody else.

8. I have always loved Donny Osmond and still listen to Donny & Marie on itunes.

9. I can only snap with my right hand -- what's up with that?

10. Also when I was six, my best friend Allison and I performed a dance show for the neighborhood to songs from my Chipmunks album and we called ourselves "The Stripettes" because we had long striped socks, only we spelled it "The Strippetts".

11. I've read Trixie Belden mysteries over and over again since junior high (I have like 40 of them). I even made my husband read the first two over with me when we first got married (I think he liked it.)

12. I have a strange lump on my head right at the top. I asked a doctor about it, because it's pretty big and I was worried. Her amazingly sensitive response was, "I've seen worse."

13. I really hate cactii, which makes it kind of a bummer to be living in Arizona. I'm more of an English garden kind of girl.

14. My dream car is a yellow toyota truck.

15. I was Salem's Jr. Miss and a finalist in the Miss Teen of Oregon pageant.

16. I'm a peanut butter fiend, I've even started adding peanut butter to all my smoothies (yesterday's was peach, strawberry, peanutbutter -- it was yummy!)

17. I didn't like little kids when I was a teenager and hated babysitting! Then some inner switch got flipped in college and I said I wanted 10. Then I had my first and decided I only wanted five. I ended up with seven (and only one girl!)

18. My sister Sherrie and I, dressed in matching blue jumpers, rode in a parade on the hood of my Dad's green Datsun truck with a "Das Gutas Speisahaus Deli" canopy on it. (My parents owned a deli at the time and the truck was for catering.)

19. When I was three I had a make-believe boyfriend named Bradley. I made up stories about him saving me from lions, tigers, getting trapped in the car-door etc...

20. When I played Barbies as a little girl, Ken's only job was to carry Barbie from one place to another, cradled in his arms. When my cousins came and my cousin David wanted to play with Ken, my aunt had to pay me to make me relinquish him.

21. When I grow up I want to write music, be a portrait photographer, write a syndicated humor column and do graphic design. I'm afraid though, that by that time, I'll be too old and tired.

22.  I want to be a dog lover, but I find that I hate the slobber, the smelly fur, the crotch sniffing, the neediness and the fact that they don't grow up and move out. So I guess, those things kind of get in the way of my ever being a dog lover. Oh well.

23. Dogs always like me as if they sense I don't want anything to do with them and they must sniff me to win me over.  I hate it. ( see above.)

24. I'm a convert to feta cheese, hummus, and kalimari olives. Greek food is divine.

25. I'm so much happier being almost 40 than I was at almost 30 or almost 20. I love having a little more wisdom, a little more confidence, a little more inner peace and a little more understanding of my relationship with God and man. I just wish I had a little less flab and a lot less wrinkles.

Eli, My Life Coach

It's Eli's birthday today. Oh wait, it's not. His birthday was actually yesterday, but we couldn't seem to find even a five minute increment in the day when the whole family would be home at once to celebrate his birthday. So we adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy and it worked out well. He never even thought to ask if it was his birthday. Thank goodness 4 year-olds don't really have a sense of time yet, but we'll need some luck pulling that one off again next year.

So, on this happy occasion of it almost being Eli's birthday, but not, I am posting the last of my "cheater blog posts": little articles I wrote when I was writing a humor column for 3 months and then found myself without a magazine to write for anymore. After this, I might have to actually be creative again, yikes! It's all about Eli, written several months ago when he was going through a phase that I had to make funny or it would make me insane! So, Happy Birthday Eli and thanks for growing out of this particular phase of your life. Four is already a happier, gentler age (for now.)

Eli, My Life Coach

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I have acquired a life coach. I know, I know, it’s so Hollywood of me. I have to admit I’m a little put off by his age; he’s so young to be such an authority on my life. But he seems so dedicated to pointing out all my faulty paradigms, he’s hard to ignore. My life coach is my 3 year-old son, Eli.

I’m pretty sure I never asked him to be my life coach, it seems he just felt inspired one day to take it upon himself to give me advice. Well actually scream advice at me, while I was working out. I had just finished doing the first part of my P90X workout (working every little unknown muscle in my triceps, biceps, and chest) and I had moved on to AB RIPPER X. It is as hard as it sounds and I was doing my darndest to rip my abs, or whatever it was I was supposed to be doing to them (seeing how long I could endure intense cramping before I keeled over groaning in agony). Eli had been irrationally grouchy all morning and for some reason only known to him, and maybe other 3 year-olds across the world, he did NOT want me to work out. He’d been yelling at me all through the first part of the workout, but I was able to tune him out. It was only while I was lying on my back during AB RIPPER X that he came over, laid down next to me and started screaming repeatedly in my face, “YOU CAN’T DO IT! YOU CAN’T DO EXERCISE!!!!” It was a little bit hard to ignore and after several minutes of enduring this abuse, I started chanting the words in my mind. That was when I realized he must have been using some kind of reverse psychology to get me to work harder. He was so intent on (de)motivating me that he continued to scream at me from the stairs when my husband removed him and sat him in time-out. That’s dedication.

Over the next few days he followed me around, jabbing me here and there with verbal assaults that must have been designed to tear me down, so he could build me back up. Like the next morning when he told me, “Mom, you’re annoying my ears!” I couldn’t help but retort, “Well, you’re annoying MY ears.” But that only gave fuel to the fire as he just screamed it back at me, “NO, YOU ARE ANNOYING MY EARS!!!” Later, I was helping him get in the car and he protested in his best mini-adolescent whine, “Mo-om, you’re squishing me!” I said, “Oh, sorry.” To which he quipped in a voice that dripped with what sounded way too much like sarcasm, “Yeah. Really, really sorry.” Hmm. He even helps me stay in control of my eating habits. One afternoon I just casually mentioned to the room at large that I was hungry when he immediately quipped, “No you’re not!” Huh? I’m not? See, the kid just has my best interest at heart.

After a week or so of this verbal sparring it started to wear on me. His methods confused me. What was it he was coaching me to do? Although he seemed sincere in his efforts, one can only take so much crankiness. I did my best to stay the course, but one final incident forced me to question whether I should listen to the fascinating observations and advice of a 3 year-old. It was following the afternoon of The Haircuts.

I take it upon myself to cut my family’s hair: all seven boys. My daughter I happily send out, but I have the boy hair thing down to a science. Somehow they manage every time to all need their hair cut at once. (Probably because I wait until they resemble Elvis with his muttonchops or the Elves from the Lord of the Rings with their pointy sideburns.) So, every few months I announce that it is haircut time, we stick a movie in the DVD player and I start frantically snipping hair, my shears flying through the air at the speed of…a mom who has 96 minutes to cut seven heads of hair! Eli usually goes last because he is the hardest to convince that getting your hair trimmed is a good thing. Given his current disposition, that haircutting task was Herculean, but I managed it (Yay me!) and I thought his haircut turned out really cute. I even told him so. Well, that night he was in my bedroom with me and stood looking in the big mirrored doors of my closet, pulling a lock of his hair up to examine it, when out of the blue he started yelling, “I DON’T WANT A HAIRCUT!” “But Eli,” I responded, “Your hair is so cute now.” He replied in disgust, “I want cool hair! This is cute hair! Cute, cute, CUTE!” Then he ran down the hall yelling it over and over, “I WANT COOL HAIR, NOT CUTE HAIR! I WANT COOL HAIR NOT CUTE HAIR! CUTE, CUTE, CUTE!”

I’m guessing he’ll probably fire me as his hairdresser; well that’s fine. I’m going to fire him as my life coach. It turns out I don’t like his methods; they didn’t inspire me at all. I think I can capitalize on them though. I’ll just send him off to the CIA and see if they can use him on one of their interrogation teams. As long as they don’t call him cute, the arrangement should work perfectly.