Lining Our Hearth

Can't you just smell the testosterone?

Set up in front of the fire: three pairs of Romeos + one soon to be European mount = clear sign there are boys around.

I know this is a sign of the future...

Except the two little pairs will grow, and grow, and grow.

And that should be the end of the hunting posts... 

I think.

For now.

I Never Would Have Believed It

Warning: If you love Bambi, maybe you shouldn't read this blog.

While I'm not a huge animal lover (example: I like to watch dogs but not so crazy about petting them and the smelly hands after I have petted them or any other critter) I've always felt defensive of them.

Zoos really aren't my idea of a good time. 

There's something so depressing to me about these majestic creatures plunked into artificial habitats so that we crazy people can walk about and gawk at them from the free side of a big old electric fence or tall, tall sheets of shatterproof glass. 

Often the crazy people are stuffing their faces with junk food. 

So weird to me.

I also used to give my brother-in-law a hard time about going out and killing Bambi.  It was unfathomable to me that anyone would choose to spend their free time tracking down these beautiful creatures only to kill them.  It seemed to be such an egotistical and twisted kind of thing to want to do. 

And then to eat it?! 

Yuck!

But, the romantic in me started to look at it as a family tradition handed down, father to son to grandson.  I liked the idea of the masculine camaraderie and something that human beings have participated in since they learned to carve spears. 

I was supportive of my husband starting to hunt.  I love that his dad hunted with his grandpa and uncles every year and that they all looked forward to that time together.  I thought it would be great for Mark to have that time with his dad and uncles (and friends too).  And our boys too, one day.

And then I started to look at our grocery bills for our family with 4 small children. 

I started to get nervous about watching them grow

and keeping them full

while not breaking the bank.

Which leads me to a day that I never- in a million years- would have predicted, even just 6 years ago...

Today our freezer contains this...

(the clear wrapping is pork shoulder for Mark's famous smoked beans- not venison)

And there's a whole lot of summer sausage and hot dogs on the way...

Not only am I excited about the meat, but I'm also looking forward to the European mounted antlers.

Who have I become?!

A practical woman with 6 mouths to feed- one of those mouths will moderately partake of the venison, while the others can't get enough of it.

I've never seen the kids keep coming back for more as they did with the venison tenderloin we prepared the other night.

It's natural.

I know the animal lived a good life.

No hormones fed to it. 

It wasn't stuffed on a feedlot.

It's the circle of life, we honor that, nothing is wasted.

And I'll admit, I'm curious about this famous "back strap" that's supposed to be so good...

My lesson? 

Never say never. 

You just can't predict all your future circumstances.

K-8 on a bus

When our oldest started kindergarten, I was nervous about her sitting on a school bus where she was thrown in with middle schoolers.

But I was reassured that she would be sitting near the front and the big kids would be in the back.

And her bus ride was 10 minutes max each way.

So, I let it slip from my worry radar.

But today it zipped back into my worry radar.

Sweet 7 year old Carl (who is rapidly turning into a big boy) came home singing "Dick in a box."*

I had to ask him to repeat his new song so that I could be sure what he'd just sung.

Then I tried to casually ask him where he'd heard that song.

He said some of the big boys on the bus were singing it.

WHAT?!

I asked him if he knew what a "dick" was.

He didn't.

Phew.

I explained it was another word for a penis.

He was shocked.

But I think he was also a little pleased to know a dirty song.

Oh boy.

I know they all learn it somewhere.

I just wonder how long it will take until 3 year old Miss Elsa Jane starts singing along too...

Thanks a lot, big boys on the school bus...

* For those of you who don't know about this lovely little ditty (mom) here's a link to the Saturday Night Live skit...

"Don't Do That" says Miss Elsa Jane

Every night when I put Elsa down to bed I read her stories, then lay with her for a minute or two, then go sit in her rocking chair while she goes to sleep.

The other night she told me not to, "do that." 

I asked her what "that" was.

She put her little hand over my mouth and nose then breathed in a super loud and exaggerated way through her nose several times.

Jeez.

Not allowed to breathe in her bed.

Maybe Little Miss Big Shot should put herself to bed.

And stay in her bed, by herself, ALL NIGHT LONG while she's at it!

I love the innocent truth of little people.

I tried to soften my breathing.

Who knew I was a loud nose breather?!

Ouch.

Truth hurts.

Sweet dreams sweet pea.

ps this morning she was gagging when i buckled her into her carseat.  when i asked why she told me my breath smelled like bananas.  is that so bad?!

To the Ladies in the Locker Room Part: 2

Seriously.

Why do people have to be so gross?!

It's absolutely crazy to me that this is even occurring!

To the ladies in the locker room:

We've covered that it's NOT ok to blow your nose in the shower.  It's gross and we all hear you do it. 

And we all flinch when you do because we remember that one day we forgot our flip flops for the shower and braved it barefooted. 

You make that nasty!

Now, another reminder...

It is NOT ok to hock a loogie either*.

Again, we all hear you do it.

We all flinch when you do.

It's DISGUSTING!

Just follow the golden rule ladies and we'll all get along fine.

*Funny I had to google the term "hock a loogie" to make sure I spelled it correctly.  Nailed it on the first try, I'm proud to say...

Lord of the Flies

You want to know my reward for limiting screen time?

I'm trying to be a good mama.

I'm trying to encourage those little buggers to move their little bodies

and use their noggins.

Somehow, my reward has transported me to the land of the Lord of the Flies.

Don't believe me?

How about this soundbite to illustrate?

OK, I give up.  I can't figure out how to translate the file I used to record the madness (from the microphone on my iphone) into something I can post.  If you can figure out how to make the link above play, then enjoy.  But you may want ear plugs...  If not.  SORRY.  I'm not smart enough to figure this technical mumbo jumbo out.
Anyway, the racket sure does make it tough to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, let alone trying to clean up dinner and start getting ready for the great bedtime battle for this mama home with 4 kids age 9 and under...

So, if you drive by and hear the screams...

don't be alarmed. 

Just another day in paradise.

-----
And just for fun, I tried this recipe out tonight.  It was delicious!  I haven't been a big fan of tofu since the day they tricked us into trying plain cold nasty tofu at McLane Elementary when we were doing some big sister city celebrating.  Shudder.  That was disgusting.  But this made it yummy to me.  It was simple, yummy, and nutritious too!

Black Pepper Tofu & Green Beans

serves 4/30 min

(Sunset Mag Sept 2011)

1 lb green beans, trimmed & halved

2 T lime juice

2 T reduced-sodium soy sauce

1 t pepper

14 oz firm tofu, drained & patted dry

2 T canola oil

1 T packed brown sugar

1/2 cup sliced shallots (I didn't have any so I used red onion- still yummy)

1. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil, add green beans and cook until bright green.  Drain and rinse well with cold water.  In a small bowl combine the lime juice, soy sauce and pepper then set aside.

1. Cut tofu into 1/2 inch rectangles.  Heat oil in large non-stick skillet over medium high heat.  Add tofu, sprinkle with sugar, and cook turning occasionally until evenly browned.  Stir in shallots/onion and cook until browned.  Add green beans and cook until warmed.  Pour in soy sauce mixture and toss to coat.

To The Ladies in The Locker Room

You know who you are.

You nose-blowers-in-the-shower.

Yes, we CAN hear you.

Yes, it is DISGUSTING.

While you might do that in the privacy of your own home,

NO- it is NOT ok at the gym.

Please, please stop blowing your nose in the public showers.

No one wants to forget their shower flip-flops and have to step on your slimy snot.

Thanks for listening.

Now change your behavior.

Your fellow locker room users appreciate it.

Latest: Overheard in the Back Seat

And now, for the latest edition of...  Overheard in the Back Seat

Scene:  Carl and Charlie in the very back seat of the Pacifica.  (That was for you Jay)

Charlie is proudly practicing his newest skill...

The Fake Burp.

Charlie (in a very earnest little voice): "Carl we could have a talent show.  You could armpit fart.  I'll fake burp."

I'm one proud mama.

Now for scene two...  Overheard at the Breakfast Bar.

Scene:  Elsa and Charlie easing their lunch.

Elsa with her toughest voice:  "Today at school, when I was on a bear hunt, I caught the bear and kicked him in the balls.  Then I squeezeded his eye."

Awesome.

That's my baby girl?!

Once again, proud mama.

A Little Sad, A Little Glad

This crib has a story.

When Sarina was just a baby Mark and I took her to stay in a vacation rental with his family on Hood Canal.  Since I was working full time, he was the lucky duck who got to pack for the trip and I met them up there after work.

Unfortunately, he overlooked the pack n' play (who hasn't done that a time or two...?). 

So, we were resourceful.

She was still so little,

and his grandma gave us the idea (she's the baby of a lot of kids)-

so we made a little bed for her in a dresser drawer laid next to our bed.

Well, word got back to Mark's other grandma (grandpa's wife #2) and she promptly took matters into her own hands and a few days later we had a delivery on our front porch. 

A brand spanking new crib! 

No granddaughter of hers was going to be left sleeping in a dresser drawer.

Miscommunication cleared and all, we had a beautiful Jenny Lind crib for our babies.

That crib was moved many, many times through the years and each of our babies slept in it.

Sadly, I was a bit lazy in moving it one too many times and angling it through doorways with three sides put together cracked the post so it can't go to a new home.  But we sure did use the heck out of this one.

I reflected on each of the moves- Carlyon, Thomas, Oyster Bay as I took it apart today.

Now, almost 10 years later, it's ready for it's final voyage.

I still think you're pretty and am sad to see you go.

Thank you special crib for holding our babies as they slept (the few hours each slept in their own beds).

And now, I'm ready for the chapter in our lives when everyone stays in their beds.

All night.

Until morning comes.

The End.

And amen (crossing myself).