Assignment due...

Miriam came home with interesting news today.

She has an assignment due on Thursday. She is doing a report on orangutans.

For her assignment, she has to make a poster about orangutans.

AND...

(drum roll)

a short video of her ACTING like an orangutan.

the best part was when she told me:

"Mom! It has to be AT LEAST 3 minutes long!"

Neighborhood birthday party

The doorbell rang last week.  I answered it and found my daughter's friend at the door with homemade invitations to her birthday party.  She told me to give her Mom a call and let her know if my kids would be there.

A few days later, I remembered to call to R.S.V.P.  My friend answered the phone and I thanked her for inviting my daughters to the party and told her that they were really excited about it and would be there for sure!  My friend tried to downplay the whole party idea and told me to not make too big a deal.  Her daughter really didn't need presents, so we shouldn't spend a lot of money on it.  They were just going to play games and might have cake or something like that. 

We chatted some more, and then the truth came out.  My friend had no idea there was going to be a party on Saturday!  Her daughter made the invitations by herself and handed them out without her mother's knowledge.  My friend had no idea what the invitations even said, or what time the party was, or even how many people to expect!

I couldn't help it.  I had to help her out.  I made cupcakes.

The day of the party arrived.  The 9 kids that were invited played games, ate cupcakes and ice cream, and had a blast.

My friend survived.  And so did her 10-year old daughter.

I really wonder what I would do if one of my daughters invited all the neighborhood kids for a birthday party without telling me.  Michael said he would applaud his daughter's independence if she ever got enough guts to do something like this.  I'm not sure "applaud" is how I would choose to handle it.

What would you do?

Random funny things

The kids found the "Moo Mixer" in the cupboard the other day.  It kept them busy for hours.  Miriam played with it the first hour while Adam coveted it.  Over and over, she filled the cup with water and pushed the button to watch the tornado inside.  With Mom intervention, Adam got to play with the Moo Mixer the second hour.  I never knew batteries could last so long!  If we had 4 more, I could let the kids use them during meals!  or not.

Emily made these fun symbols on my counter with popsicle sticks and crayons.  Recognize them?

how about this view?

Olivia's 1st new bad habit:   Taking all her clothes off during her nap.

Olivia's 2nd new bad habit:    Spitting.
She watched me brush my teeth and spit out the paste.  Now she walks around the house spitting on the floor.  I watch her spit, squat, and wipe it up with a napkin.  She is smart enough to know she should wipe it up, and thrown the used napkins away.  The problem is she goes right back for a new napkin so she can spit again!  Today, I found a wad of used napkins next to the package of new napkins in the cupboard.  Thanks, Olivia.  Good thing you are cute!

Bad Pizza

I love to cook.  Some people tell me I am a good cook - people like Miriam, who love every dinner and lavish on the praise.  My husband usually likes the food too.  Even the women who pay me to prepare freezer meals for them once a week think I do a great job.

There are some things I have not mastered yet.

Homemade pizza is one of them.

I know my problem.  It is the crust.
I can do sauce.  I can do cheese.  I can do toppings.

I can make the pizza crust dough!  (or rather, my 30-year-old hand-me-down Bosch mixer can make pizza crust dough)

I cannot roll the dough thin enough to make a good pizza.

I think I roll it thin, slap on the toppings fast and get it into the oven, but it always rises too high while baking.

Let me explain.  I made dough last week and divided the dough between my two stoneware pans.  I rolled it out, added sauce, cheese, and toppings, and got ready to place the first pan in the oven.

When I opened the door to the oven, I was greeted by a grey cloud of smoke!
Oops!  I forgot that small spill from the day before.

Knowing what happens when clouds of smoke drift through my house, I ran to the end of the hall to close all the bedroom doors before the fire alarms noticed.  Then, I opened all the windows and turned on fans.

Finally, I placed the first pan into the oven to bake. (more smoke) I figured that Papa Murphey's pizza bakes for about 15 minutes in my oven and set the timer accordingly.  After 15 minutes, I checked the bottom of the crust (golden brown) and took the pizza out of the oven.

Problem #1: dinner was already 45 minutes late.
Problem #2: the pizza looked like a pillow.  The crust was 1" thick on the sides, and rounded on top.
Problem #3: my upstairs is full of tear producing smoke.  (nothing dark and black - just a little pea soup-ish)

The family sat down to dinner and I handed out pieces of pizza anyway.  One bite was all it took to discover the dough was not cooked in the middle.  Yuck!  I gathered up everyone's slices and re-assembled the pizza and put it back into the oven.  (exit more smoke) The second pizza was already in, so now we had two pizza's baking and it was going to take a while.

So, the kids enjoyed an "appetizer" of Root Beer.  They think having pizza means they get to have soda too.  They downed a whole 2 liter bottle at once.

While the kids drank their root beer, I some quick searching resulted in some strawberries from the fridge.  Soon the kids had the "fruit course."

When they finished the strawberries, I served the first pizza.  Again.  It was cooked enough in the middle now, but the top was quite toasty. (but not really "burned" yet)  And it was still really really thick.  Kids ate it anyway - and Miriam said it was "O.K."

By the time the second pizza was out of the oven, half the kids had had enough (thick crust fills them up fast!) and left the table.

sigh.

On the bright side, a nice breeze picked up after dinner and moved the smoke out of the house!  It is amazing how fast the breeze can clear the air, when a fan on high barely makes a dent.

Oatmeal

About twice a month, 6 members of my family get to enjoy their favorite breakfast.  For the remaining 9-year old holdout, the alternative is worse than death.

I am talking about oatmeal.

There are many ways to make oatmeal.

You could make an instant package of oatmeal in about a minute in the microwave.  It has a smooth, gluey texture, and way more sugar added than is necessary.  In fact, if an instant package of oatmeal is the only option, I mix it half and half with a regular package to tone down the sugar.

You could make regular oatmeal, and wait the 10 minutes for the rolled oats to cook.  Then add your own sugar, and choice of flavor.  We like applesauce, sugar, cinnamon, and sometimes strawberry freezer jam, just not all at once.  Regular oats have texture.  You can chew them.

Or, you can buy the oat groats and roll them yourself, adding a bit of rolled wheat for added flavor.  It takes about an hour to make breakfast, but if you have a lot of time on your hands... (I love my Dad).

If you know me, you guessed we had regular oatmeal.  That would be 7 cups of water, and 3 1/2 cups of oats!

As the smell of simmering breakfast invaded the kitchen yesterday, Emily began the normal rant,
"Mom! (in singsong whine) I hate oatmeal!  You know I hate oatmeal!  (stomp) Why do you ALWAYS have to make oatmeal?!!"  (throw something, or collapse in a heap)

Reminding Emily that sometimes, her siblings need to experience their favorite breakfast doesn't go over very well.  And for the 5 people who are reading this and wondering why Emily can't just have toast instead, I have a reason.  On more than one occasion when Emily has actually taken a bite, she has admitted out loud that it's not as bad as she thought and has eaten the oatmeal.

Later, during breakfast (at which my boys can consume 3 bowls to my 1 bowl) Miriam heaped on the praise:


Miriam: "Mom, this oatmeal is sooooo goooood.  How did you do it?"  (Miriam ALWAYS compliments the food.  No matter what it is.)
Me: (trying to hold a strait face) "Well, Miriam, I have had lots of practice." (as I patted her on the shoulder and grinned at Michael across the table - who is trying not to laugh and choke on his mouthful.  After all, it is only oatmeal!  You boil water and salt, you add the oats and stir.  Don't let it overflow the 4 quart saucepan.)

I should mention that this whole time Emily has sat staring at her small bowl of oatmeal.  She occasionally stirs it, and leans back in her seat uninterested as her brothers keep asking for more.  In fact, if the options were oatmeal or death, I'm quite sure what she would choose.

The conversation (I mean mocking) continues:

Miriam: "Mom, when I grow up, I'm coming to your house every day for dinner."
Me: "but Miriam, what if your husband doesn't like my cooking?"
Michael: (under his breath) "Not likely"
Me: "what if your husband would rather stay home and eat YOUR cooking?"
Me: "and what if your husband likes his mother's cooking more than mine and asks you to learn all his family recipes?"

I don't remember Miriam's answers were, but Michael thought it all was rather funny.  Especially the part about learning the family recipes.  He did that to me.

:)

Joshua's prayers

Here is your daily dose of humor - courtesy of my kids:

Joshua is a funny kid.  He is learning how to say his own prayers, and probably could do it by himself, but he likes to have help anyway.  At lunch last week, it was his turn to pray.  I asked him if he wanted me to help him or Adam to help him.  (now, I should explain that Adam has never helped anyone before, and he still likes to receive help when it is his turn.  I was teasing Joshua with the comment.)  Joshua grinned really wide - like Curious George - and proclaimed that Adam was going to help him say the prayer.  At that, Adam was so shocked and scared I would really expect him to do it, that he dove under the table.  There was no way he was going to help Joshua - or even look at me.  I saved Adam the "torture" and told Joshua I would be helping him say the prayer.  Reluctantly, Adam came back up, and luckily, Joshua let me help him.  I would really have loved to hear how that prayer would have turned out.  ;)


Last night, I was helping Joshua say his nightly prayer.  This is how it went...

Me: Heavenly Father...
Joshua: Heavenly Father...

Me: Thank you...
Joshua: Thank you...

Me: for our family...
Joshua: for our family...

(one or two other items, but I forget what they were)
Me: help me...
Joshua: help me...

Me: to be good
...(long pause) Me again (just in case he didn't hear): to be good

(Joshua with his arms still folded raises his head, opens his eyes, and glares at me)
Joshua (in a loud growly voice): MOM, I DON'T WANT TO BE GOOD!

(I decide to ignore the comment, and try super hard not to laugh)
Me (trying to sound normal): In the name
Joshua (in a super sweet voice like nothing happened): In the name

Me: Of Jesus Christ
Joshua: Of Jesus Christ

Me:  Amen
Joshua (shouts): A - MEN!
(Joshua vaults into bed)