I Plan to Become a Millionaire

Posted on October 8, 2009 by The Daring One

This morning I was spending some sweet quality time with my squishable water-filled newborn. Sunlight was filtering in through the window of my cozy bedroom and I was sitting next to her on the bed. She looked so precious and perfect except for a bright red gash, newly carved into her pudgy cheek.

“Stop scratching yourself baby!” I urged, “I think we’re gonna have to start calling you Scar Face.”

I’ve filed her nails. We’ve tried the little mittens and the pjs with the fold-over sleeves on the ends. She gets the mittens off like a fat little cross-eyed Houdini with dark duck down for hair. She spends her life trying to punch through those fold-over sleeves. They are a great burden to her.

Looking at her latest injury, I thought of the perfect solution – plastic face shields like you can buy for your PDA but made for babies! I know, right? Best idea ever. They would stick onto the baby’s face with a light, dermatologist-tested adhesive, completely covering baby’s face except for the eyes, mouth and nostrils. They would be transparent so you could still see your baby’s face, although it would look a little like you were viewing it through a window that it was being smooshed up against. But who doesn’t think it’s cute when tiny little kids smoosh their faces up against windows? Tell me. Who?

Then the baby could scratch and scratch all she wanted without doing any damage. She’d be happy and ready for her next photo shoot at a moment’s notice.

If anyone’s interested in buying this idea for mass production and sale, please email me. Serious inquiries only.

Posted in baby stuff, family fun, money, save me from myself, scaring the neighbors, world domination | 10 Comments

A Sense of Urgency

Posted on October 7, 2009 by The Daring One

I’ve watched my other two kids grow and mature, and their needs seem to be slightly less urgent and immediate than are Wanda’s. Where Wanda needs what she needs 10 minutes ago, Magoo at age 4 only needs things right this second and Laylee at 6 can be persuaded to wait for sometimes as long as an hour with relative patience. [Read More at Parenting.com]

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The Tank

Posted on October 5, 2009 by The Daring One

This past weekend, we watched General Conference, a big fat conference our church has twice a year where the Prophet and other leaders of our church broadcast speeches and messages all over the world by internet and satellite.

We watch church on TV for 2 days at home in our pajamas. This year my mom made the kids a big tent to watch from and to be honest I slept through most of it in my sleep-deprived haze. I’m glad the talks are available online for later review because I could not keep my eyes open most of the time.

One talk I will NOT forget involved one church leader giving his solemn testimony of the Book of Mormon while holding the original copy that was read by the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum at the time of their martyrdom in the early 1800s. Not only was it an extremely powerful talk, but as a former librarian, I will always remember it as the talk that gave historians across the world a coronary. I wonder exactly how many seconds after he finished speaking that a team of archivists swept in with special dusting cloths and archival quality Ziplocs.

Getting ready for the conference, Magoo and I were looking at a picture of our Prophet and I asked him if he knew his name.

“Yeah…ummmm…no.”

“It’s President Monson.”

“Nope. That’s not it. It’s something with a train in it.”

“A train?”

“Yeah. The prophet’s REAL name has a train in it.”

I was dumbfounded. I tried to prove him wrong.

“There’s no train in his name. His name is Thomas S. Monson.”

“YEAH! Oh YEAH! He has a THOMAS in his name.”

So I wonder if President Monson’s other friends ever refer to him by his REAL FULL NAME, Thomas “The Tank Engine” S. Monson.

Posted in faith, family fun | 19 Comments

I Shouldn’t Compare

Posted on October 1, 2009 by The Daring One

I’ve only had 2 daughters for a couple of weeks but I’m already comparing them to each other. I need to remember to look at them as individual young ladies with their own gifts and talents but it’s so hard not to compare.

The main problem I’m having is that Wanda is pathetically incapable of belching. We have to work so hard to get her to do even the smallest burp. Laylee on the other hand could belch all day long if she wanted to and sometimes does.

In the past I’ve pleaded with her to stop this but now that we’re trying to keep Wanda’s tummy troubles under control, belching has become a primo skill to be coveted and respected. Maybe Laylee could take some time and do a little tutorial for her when she gets home from school.

Posted in baby stuff, blick | 8 Comments

Passive Aggressive Prayers

Posted on September 30, 2009 by The Daring One

In our family we say we believe in praying to God, but I’m pretty sure that fairly frequently my kids pray at each other and even more often, they use their prayers as a chance to tell me off. [Read More at Parenting.com]

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Baby of Rage

Posted on September 27, 2009 by The Daring One

I’ve written a new song for Wanda entitled “Baby of Rage.” The words are different every time I sing it but they basically consist of me singing to her in my sweetest voice about how she’s a Baby of Rage and I don’t know why.

Most of the time she’s a Baby of Sweetness but every so often, every day or two, she has a rough period of rage and physical turmoil that I assume is caused by digestational distress incomprehensible to someone whose intestines are as highly developed as mine.

We’re at the stage in her life where I feel directly responsible for any sickness she feels in her tummy. “It must have been those Swedish fish I ate yesterday. I’m so thoughtless! Tomorrow I will stick to a strict diet of steamed carrots and mashed potatoes.”

But then the next day I will eat the steamed carrots and mashed potatoes and sneak a bite of Magoo’s hot dog. At 1pm, Baby of Rage will surface and I will think, “What a feckless MORON am I?! I did this to her. Darn that meat product!”

In reality I have no idea what causes Baby of Rage to rear her pathetic head, squawking and grunting her way to burden-free bowels.

The composition and subsequent performance of the song reminded me of how much we enjoyed doing freestyle family rap battles back in the day, the rhyming, the flow, the hoodies and do-rags. When Wanda’s older, I hope she’ll be all up in hee-ya wid-it. Holla!

Alas. We need to work on getting her to freestyle her fecal matter before we proceed to anything more creative.

Posted in baby stuff, food, highfalutin potty talk, rap battles | 12 Comments