Dinner for the Bargain Price of $1.10

My kids have a strict rule. They only touch food that is beige. Bread, chicken nuggets, rice, fries--that's about it. Sometimes, depending on their moods they'll go for something orange. But any other color is a struggle.

We've tried everything. Negotiations, bribes, threats, consequences, ultimatums--you name it. We have one hard, fast requirement--one bite of each offending item on your plate. Of course, with age E.R. is getting much better. But where it's now easier with him, it's 10X harder with A.M. Let's just say she's stubborn.

Yesterday something new came to me as my daughter was gearing up for the nightly battle of wills. I pulled out the dimes we use to pay our kids for extra jobs. Ten cents for one BIG bite was the going rate. Both of my children, without complaint, ate bite, after bite, after bite. No whining. No gnashing of teeth. No tears. No time outs. It was heavenly--except for that gnawing feeling of guilt that I had stepped over an invisible, ethical line.

I'm not saying this was great parenting. At this point, I'm going to settle with just being barely average.

Snow Day

When I was a kid I used to pray for a so much snow that they'd have to close school. Who didn't? It's every child's dream. With as much snow as we get in Utah you'd think I eventually got my wish. I cannot recollect a single time in my 13-year school career the schools closed because of snow.Today was a snow day. The first of many, everyone says. We did get a fair amount of snow, about six inches. Not sure why that warrants a closure. Apparently they take their snow very seriously.

And for a Kindergartener, a snow day is a death sentence. E.R. loves being at school more than he loves being home. His only consolation was that all the kids had to stay home too, so he wouldn't be missing out.

My idea of a perfect snow day is spending it in bed with a book. That's only going to happen if I declare a snow day, for myself, on a Saturday and leave everything else to R. Ever since I tried declaring a snow day last July, he won't buy it anymore.

While I shoveled us out of our driveway, the kids played in the snow. Oh how I miss our south-facing, short driveway in UT. I debated leaving the job for R., but I knew it would be dark when he got home. Besides he's working hard to build me a fabulous kitchen so it was the least I could do. (He's also making it up to me right now by doing the dishes. I'm going to expect a back massage too--it's a long driveway.)

A.M. had a hard time getting around. I couldn't quite tell if her troubles were due to the snow or the layers of snow gear she was sporting. E.R. patiently hauled her everywhere. He's such a good brother. Whenever she fell he'd help her back up. What a process. The pictures below don't really show to what effort it took for him to get her up and standing. I'm the mean mom who stood by laughing and taking pictures instead of giving the poor guy a break.

No Hablo Espanol

So I've been working on a our Christmas gift for R.'s brother and his family. It's a year's worth of FHE lessons and activities. It's 98% complete with just a few odds and ends to finish like the lesson on tithing I've been working on tonight. Thanks to images found in Google, I put together an activity of matching countries with pictures of their currency. I just finished printing the worksheets when R. asks if I seriously thought this was a Mexican peso:If you're a little slow like me, look closely at the man's face. Yah, I have a bit of re-printing to do.

My $1 Lesson

I stopped at the dollar store today with A.M. in search of a cheap plastic cup to house my toilet brush. Don't get me wrong, I like the dollar store and usually come away having spent twenty or so of those oh-so-cheap dollars. But today I was feeling particularly snotty and did not appreciate the mile-long line I had to stand in to buy my blasted cup.

Of course, all the while A.M. was asking for a treat. I only had a dollar in change for the cup and I told myself beforehand there would be no way I would be using my debit card to buy more stuff; so I told her no treats today. Surprisingly, she did not throw a fit but stood next to the candy the entire time, eyeing it so fondly.

When finally I got up to the check stand I turned to get A.M. away from the treats. (And I do mean "finally"--20 minutes. I know you're thinking no cup was worth that kind of wait. I was thinking that too. But by that time it was a matter of principle.) Behind me in line was a sweet lady who asked if she could give my daughter a dollar to buy a candy cane of M&M's. A.M. was thrilled. Here I was annoyed with all the people around me, and this woman treats both me and my daughter with thoughtfulness. I truly, truly was humbled.

Thank you and Merry Christmas good, kind, dollar store customer.

Santa Came To Town To Deliver...Food Storage

Saturday we dragged ourselves out of bed to take our kids to the glass museum to eat breakfast with Santa. R. and I debated whether we'd actually do it the night before. We treasure our "Saturday sleep-in" even though, since having children, it's been reduced to a few extra winks before the kids are begging for breakfast.

I took my camera, but left the memory card in the PC. Frustrating. But, I'm sure you get the picture--buffet style spread and the Jolly Old Elf, himself.

Kids make me laugh. See, I never actually "make" breakfast. Mornings are not my thing, that's why they invented cereal. And cereal is all they ever get. So you'd think when faced with real food like eggs, sausage and French toast my kids would be in heaven. Nope, they went for Kellogg's Corn Pops.

The event was better than expected. There was entertainment while we ate--a magic show and a guy singing silly songs like "Library Boogie" and "Garbage Monster"; which begs the question--what on earth do reading and recycling have to do with Christmas?

The kids had fun. A.M. was still talking about it at church today. We had fun too. It was worth giving up a bit of sleep.

The afternoon proved to be no less eventful. I went with some friends to the Church cannery. My first time. Again, no camera to document the all-day excursion, or the plastic aprons and hairnets we wore. But here's a look at a few of the 34 cans of food I brought home:The sad thing is what I did would sustain only one person for about a month. I have a lot more work to do.

While I was gone R. tore out the wall to the bathroom. We're moving it to make way for some pantry cupboards in the kitchen. I came home to this view from my kitchen:Imagine being able to "do your business" while keeping an eye on dinner at the same time. With that kind of convenience, I'm thinking we may not even replace the wall at all. (Yah, I know you're all laughing at the grandma wallpaper. And just for that, I'm keepin' it!)

Skadoosch!

One thing every small town in America has in common--an 80's-style, toaster-shaped Pizza Hut. And thanks to Reading Rewards at E.R.'s school we frequent ours. Tonight included. The kids were thrilled. I was thrilled not to have to cook.

(By the way, Reading Rewards was a genius idea--as long as kids can read, customers aren't going anywhere. R. even remembers getting them when he was a kid.)

Tonight was movie night at the school, featuring Kung Fu Panda. This was a great idea in theory, but in reality...imagine sitting, scrunched, on the cafeteria room floor for an hour and a half. For the kids--a blast. Lying on blankets. Loads of snacks. Sitting by classmates. Fun. For R. it's a different story. I think he genetically inherited the inability to sit Indian-style. For me, I tried to crouch the entire time to let the little girls behind me see.

This is actually the second time we've seen this movie less than comfortably. When it was in theaters we took the kids, for the first time, to the drive-in. Drive-ins definitely lose their luster with children--no more making out.

I'm honestly not complaining--we had a fun night together. I'm just thinking after awkwardly watching the same movie twice, R. and I should get extra points in heaven under the "wholesome recreational family activities" clause. (Or does that only count for water skiing?)

Retraction

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I know I tried your patience with the diving video, but here's another one. Actually, I'm trying to get the heat off poor R. You see, A.M. has asked (begged, more like) to watch her dad about fifty times today. Every time R.'s body double reaches the diving platform she squeals, "there's Daddy, there's Daddy." And she refers to the speedo as, "Daddy's red panties." In an effort to be funny, I've given my daughter a warped sense of reality.

I don't know if this video is much better. Even though these elves are supposed to be gender nonspecific there are times R. is, without a doubt, a woman. My daughter's going to be so screwed up.

Merry Christmas!

Eat Your Heart Out...Phelps

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Some have said there is a shocking lack of posts about my husband. Well, a few months back we decided to keep this to ourselves because we didn't want to brag; but, I feel I must defend myself on why I have kept his many accomplishments out of our blog. So, I'm sorry if this makes any of you feel your husband is less than adequate!

All joking aside, my ever-increasingly talented husband has done something far better than bringing home the gold. He has added lights to the majority of the rooms that had been originally intended to only be lamp-lit. This house isn't some shack in the woods, or an igloo; so what were they thinking when they built it? Seriously, lamp-lit? Awful. Not anymore! Thank you, thank you, Honey!

PS--You've never looked sexier in a red speedo. Hubba! Hubba!

PSS--The kids couldn't wait to unveil this post to R. when he came home. As they watched together, A.M. excitedly declared, "You have panties Dad!" I think I'm in trouble.