Bubba-ism of the Week

Tonight, we went to Andrew's friend's birthday party at the new Chuck E. Cheese in Layton (it was a MADHOUSE to say the least). Anyway, when we got home past eight, Andrew was quite emotional, as he often is when he has played hard, worn himself out, and eaten next to nothing (eating pizza is worse than eating dirt to my child). So, he was teary-eyed and cried over lots of little things, ie. not wanting to take a bath, being hungry, not wanting to go to kindergarten without me (who knows where that one came from, he was delirious, but I reassured him that he won't be five for some time now so not to worry). So we finally wipe away the tears and get around to the teeth brushing when he says:

"Mom, I am just sad today."

"Well, why do you think that is, Andrew?"

"I had a bad day."

"You did? Didn't you have fun at the party? What was so bad about today?"

"No, not a bad day, I am just sad."

"Why honey?"

"That's just how I am mom."

Pretty deep for a four year old! I guess I just have to do my best to keep him well fed and rested and keep those toddler blues at bay.

It's All About the Costume-Are You Ready?

Okay, maybe I'm a little excited about Halloween. I know it is still over a month away, but I will admit I have already ordered Andrew's costume-are you surprised I'm not sewing it since I have become so domestic with my canning adventure and all? I will also reveal that this is the latest in the season I have ever ordered a costume for Andrew-I usually have the dang thing and have tried it on him repeatedly by now. I was feeling very anxious and "behind" as I finally placed the order the other day. I could care less about the candy, the parties, the jack-o-lanterns-for me the thrill of the Halloween season is seeing if my child could possible be any cuter than the year before. (Okay I care a little about the candy). It is getting tough to beat. Last year he was a bat, preceded when he was two by a skunk and of course the famous baby alien for his first Halloween. Now that he is picking his own costumes, or at least giving me input on what he wants to be, it is hard to focus on only cuteness or fabulosity when I have to attend to his wants and needs for a costume. All year he has been INSISTING that he wanted to be an "army man" this year. Until the other night, when I'm about to hit order on the army man costume at brandsonsale.com, and he is suddenly inspired that he should be this instead:

Are you feeling it? I think he will be just darling as a keeper of the peace-I just hope he doesn't become drunk with power and try to beat me with his billy club if he catches me eating his candy.

I CAN! (sorta)

(Darling pic stolen shamelessly from Judith's
blog-Thanks Judith!)
I have never been much for domesticity. I would much rather run around doing fun things or even work than spend my days alphabetizing the soup cans in my pantry or meticulously scrubbing the baseboards. Now this is not to say that I live in a pigsty (ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that my house is fairly clean), or that I think that women who are domestic are lame. Not so! I truly admire those who can make their grandma's salsa from memory or create delicious pie crusts from scratch (that one's for you MJ)-that is just not how I roll, but more power to those women who do.

Anyhoo, when we bought the house we live in currently, we inherited two massive peach trees. Oh goody, I thought-we'll have yummy peaches to eat in the summer. Little did I know. These two monstrous freaks of nature have produced I'll wager to say THOUSANDS of peaches in the last two weeks. Everyone I've talked to lately seems to think a yard overflowing with fruit was the greatest thing since winning the lottery. However, I have been less than enthusiastic because I'm-(gasp) a NON-CANNER! Being a non-canner in Utah is almost as scandalous as being a Democrat. But I digress...

I was all for putting a sign in the year saying,"Free Peaches, you pick!" What a charitable thing I would be doing for the less fortunate! But the CANNERS weren't having it. Everyone and their canning cousin wanted to help me turn those little balls of juicy sweetness into a year's supply of cobblers and whatever else for my family. So I gave in-as long as I didn't have to be involved in picking the hairy little devils (man that fuzz is ITCHY!), I would participate in the canning effort.
So Saturday afternoon, Kimmie (my SIL), and Joan (MIL), came with the goods. Jars, rings, sugar galore, spcial little knives that would cut the fruit but not your fingers, and the double boilers. It was a family affair, a cooperative effort on the part of everyone there from Kent and Richard picking peaches and supervising the boilers out on the deck, to little 'ol me peeling and quartering peaches til my hands and fingernails turned brown (disgusting, but it's amazing what a little bleach under the nails can do). Seven long hours later, we gazed admiringly at our 61 (yes, SIXTY ONE!) quarts of peaches. It was a lot of work, but a very "fruitful" experience that I think I would do again-in about 5 years when all these jars are gone. It was even maybe just a little fun and I am quite proud of that shy little domestic goddess within me who came out for the canning-fest.

Now I just have to figure out what to do with the rest of the peaches out there on those trees-My pantry runneth over!

Bubba-ism of the Day

The horrific words I swore as a child I'd never say: "Because I'm your mother!" came quite naturally to my lips today when Andrew, after being asked to take his shoes off and put them in the closet, pick up his dropped mac and cheese off the floor, and take his bowl to the sink asked this:

"Why I hafta do evything what you say?" (sic)

Thank goodness four year olds tend to accept their parents responses as valid so that was the end of that...for now.

Bubba-ism of the Week

Walking into a restaurant, Andrew is giving me his standard order:

"Cheesburger, no mustard, no pickles just ketchup."

"Okay son."

"Oh, and mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I want chocolate milk, I INSIST on it. Chocolate milk tastes good in my mouth."

You insist do you? Alrighty then! The things kids say...

Return to the Real World

Here's a picture of my pride and joy looking ever so handsome on his first day back to school. He was very excited to go back, to see his teachers, Miss Shawna and Miss Heidi and all his friends. Since that first day, his excitement has waned. Every morning starts with tears and ,"I not want to go to school." I know Northridge provides excellent care and instruction for my child, but what it comes down to is, he just wants his mommy. As much as I love and am fulfilled by my job, I really do wish sometimes I could give him just that-his mommy full time. Such a precarious balance for the working mom. I feel guilty if I am enjoying work too much and feel guilty if I give all of my attention to Andrew because then my teaching suffers. Every summer we have more fun than the year before and it has to be pretty hard for him to see all the fun with mom come to an end once again as she goes back to (four-letter-word)-WORK. Such is the life of the working woman! At least I have those precious summers and I know I am not alone-millions of women share my feelings and concerns. Not ideal, I suppose, but comforting nonetheless. Here's one of my deepest, darkest, secret shames: even if I was rich-I would still want to work. I love being with Bubba, but teaching gives me a sense of self-esteem and accomplishment that I don't get from staying home. I know, terrible, but I need both motherhood and career to be really happy. I guess that will always leave me just about where I'm at-guilty and conflicted, yet strangely happy and fulfilled at the same time. Maybe it's time to reinvest in some serious self-evaluative therapy sessions to sort through all this angst. Anyone know a good babysitter? It's a viscious circle!

A Month From...

Well, it's been a month since I have last posted on my beloved blog and I feel terrible about it. My poor son Andrew will have no recollection of the month of August from the summer he was 4. Here's why:

Yep, I'm back to school and all my hobbies, interests and free time are gone as my attentions are currently diverted to attending to the educational needs of 29 darling 5th graders. Ah, summer....