To tell or not to tell...

So Jason decided to use the bidet (look it up, Troy had to have one after serving a mission in Japan) to rinse his daddy's toothbrush. The question is, after all of the teasing and practical jokes my loving husband has played on me, do I tell him now or after a few uses? To be continued...

It's a toddler thing...

Jason, my 1-year old decided it's better to shower with your jammas and diaper on. It saves time. It's a toddler thing, you wouldn't understand!

The power of persuasion- somehow Weston got Scotty's teammates to hold his stanky shoes while he trained (ala Rocky Balboa) for his big basketball game.

I forgot to add some "important" detail to previous story...

(From the witness aka my sister Lyndsay)
Steph, you forgot to add that when I came out to the car and saw you, I had the double side by side pizza thing goin on(Little Caesars) and back then was about 50 pounds overweight, so as I ran back in the store, I was already being looked at and when I told the workers, they literally jumped over the counter screaming for someone to call 911. It all started because I saw some kids wearing black and smoking, with mohawks, and just the sight of them, put me on edge. I COULD have saved your life that day. No thanks needed:)

*FLASHBACK STORY*

So when I was a senior in high school in Las Vegas, I had a pretty packed schedule. I was VP of our Seminary program (early- morning, no time- release there), and I played volleyball, had student council, a couple of college-prep classes, and worked after school when we didn't have games. And I THOUGHT I was exhausted then- ha. Anyways, one night my mom ordered pizza and sent me to pick it up, I drove to the pizza place and then as any big sister would do, sent my younger sister (Lyndsay-maybe 12-years old) in to pay and get the pizzas. It was taking a loooong time, and I was so tired that I layed down across the front seat and rested my poor overworked head. The next thing I know, the pizza employees and my sister and concerned customers were all standing outside the window knocking furiously and sending someone in to call an ambulance. Lyndsay had come out with the pizzas and had seen me laying across the seat and thought something had happened to me or someone had hurt me. So she ran back in the the place screaming that something had happened to her sister and she needed help. Thus the scores of people at my window. She's always been my most paranoid sister! ha. I sat up and told everyone that everything was fine, peeled rubber out of the parking lot, and yelled at my sister all the way home for embarassing me. Sorry, Lynds. Thanks for your concern- I know it was just your immense love for me that made you react that way! The moral is, be careful about what you do in the front seat (or any other seat) of your car. You never know who might overreact. Peace out.

The planets have aligned...

and I am actually on my computer (while my 18 mo. old and 4 year-old wreak havoc with a package of Top Ramen they found in the pantry) . I don't have to look up a recipe or sign children up for anything or prepare a lesson or check practice and game schedules or check the definition of a word I heard on talk-radio.
Target owes me my picture on the wall or a aisle with my name on it or something. I am embarassed to admit that I have been to Target 4 out of 5 days this week (and all before 9AM). Hayley needed new P.E. shoes, and we had already made a hefty investment in some cool ones for the beginning of school, so Target will get us through the last couple of months. I get nothing done when I take all 5 of the kids, and end up with strange purchases (silly putty, press-on nails, the entire line-up of Nerf products) in my cart, so I thought I would take my chances and guess at Hayley's shoe size so I would only have T-Rex and the baby with me. I guessed wrong, so I went straight back the next day to trade sizes, and overnight Hayley had also outgrown her sandals, so they were added to the list. I also got some grocery shopping done, etc. From too big, to too small, the shoes never fit, and since I planned on going back the next morning to fix the previous mornings mistakes, people (my kids) kept adding things to the list that they needed for school projects or dance class or the beginning of football season for the boys. Today is Friday and I just got back from Target (BTW, I didn't always go to the same store, there are 2 within the same distance, so I mixed it up a bit...) and I don't care if the shoe doesn't fit or the shorts are the wrong color, we will make it work.
On a tangent, as we pulled up to our second home, Target, this morning, I realized I had forgotten to pray (and boy did I need it today), so I turned the car off and quickly bowed my head and closed my eyes in the car, people were walking by and Truman kept asking what I was doing, and I had this image in my mind of someone thinking I was slumped over the steering wheel for a different reason (*see next story for this line of thinking), so I finished quickly and hoped nobody was calling an ambulance.

My new pet...

I've decided that having a blog is like having a pet. I already have five kids, and every time they ask for a pet, I point to their one year-old brother and tell them that we have him instead of a pet. I'm not romantic about pets, I know they take a LOT of work and commitment, even the ones that are supposedly low-maintenance. Now that I have reluctantly joined the blogites, I realize that every mess my kids make or every funny thing they say or do, or every annoying or redeeming quality they have, or every beautiful or weird place I see (I know, English majors, this is a run-on sentence at its worst) I have to remember to put it on "the blog". Obviously I don't actually put it on the blog, though, I just wake up in the middle of the night mad at myself that I didn't put it on the blog. In the analogy of a pet, it's like worrying about cleaning up the you-know-what, or checking the food and water bowl, or taking it for a walk regularly. I won't tell you what happened to some of the pets I had when I was younger, but look, my kids are still alive and healthy (for now). And even though (I know, English majors, avoid starting sentences with the word "and") I'm not an uberblogger, this site will stay alive. I know there would be a huge backlash if I cut you guys off now. So even if I don't document every brilliant thought I have, or dirty diaper I change, or injury I heal, or load of laundry I do, or romantic gesture by my husband, I will push down those competitive urges to blog like no one has ever blogged before, and just be content with mediocrity. Now when my kids ask for a puppy or a goldfish, instead of pointing to Jason, I'll tell them mommy already has a pet- named Blog.