Just another homeschooling day

Selected quotes from the last 30 minutes:

Me: Just a second Eagle, I will color your ears as soon as I am done cutting out Bear's brain.

Wolf: owww! you cut my fingers off! owwwwww!!!...hey look, I can grab the doorknob now.

Bear: Why is my face all bendy?

Me: Whoops buddy, your brain is sticking out of your head

What,  your house doesn't sound like this? Oh, maybe it's because you weren't making body posters and pasting up faces (and brains) because you've just started studying anatomy.

the three posters are on the door/wall/door at the end of our hall.
I couldn't get them all in one shot because it was too dark
(and too wide a frame) but you get the idea.

see the brain behind the face?

Eagle poses with his body poster. He colored that face himself.

now you get Wolf's fingers/doorknob comment, right? ☺

You might live in the Arctic if...

Yesterday evening Bear looked out the window at the large round thermometer we have there. He has been learning numbers at his pre-k class, and is getting pretty proficient with them.
"Oh my gosh mom!" he called to me. "Look at this! It's pointing ABOVE ZERO!"
Yes indeed my dear, it was about 18F yesterday. Then I had to explain to him that in our crazy system, it can be above zero but still below freezing. He grinned and said "It's so warm!"

the weather according to google this morning  

This morning Wolf walked home from his music lesson (the band teacher at the school sweetly offered to simply give him private lessons twice a week, since the rest of the sixth grade band has basically dropped out...it's a non-credit class and most of the kids never took it seriously). It's about a half mile walk, carrying his saxophone. As he came through the door, he proclaimed "Mom, it was so warm out there today I walked home like this most of the way," and he demonstrated, instrument case jauntily on his shoulder, jacket hanging open, no mittens, no snow pants...

And to think, just three weeks ago it was -41. (And, for my non USA readers, -40F = -40C, just for reference...)  At -41, you wear the snow pants, fleece or wool jacket, 600 fill down coat, stocking cap, coat hood, a pair of thick mittens (or two), and a scarf around your face...and your snot still freezes and you get icicles in your eyelashes.

We've passed imbolc too (which marks halfway between solstice and equinox), we have light during the day and even into the evening.


It kinda feels like springtime.

All I'm missing is flowers.

Interview with a Wolf

(with thanks to The Road Less Traveled for coming up with the question list)

1. What is something mom always says to do?
get up off my duff

2. What makes mom happy?
when I do [get up off my duff]

3. What makes mom sad?
when I don't [get up off my duff]

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
she tells me the joke about the guy and the oscar meyer weiner truck
(what, you don't know that joke? A guy finds a genie. It gives him three wishes. He wishes for a fancy car *poof* there is a porche. He wishes for a million dollars *poof* there is a deposit slip in his hand. Then, as he sits there thinking of what he wants for his final wish, the oscar meyer truck drives by in the distance, and he begins to sing along "Oh I wish I were an oscar meyer weiner!")

5. What was your mom like as a child?
explorational (His word, I swear)

6. How old is your mom?
30

7. How tall is your mom?
6 ft (*snort!*)

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
knit

9. What does your mom do when you’re not around?
watch movies with dad

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
cuz of your knitting

11. What is your mom really good at?
knitting

12. What is your mom not very good at?
making me mad

13. What does your mom do for a job?
babysit

14.What is your mom’s favorite food?
strawberry cake (he said he meant strawberry shortcake)

15.What makes you proud of your mom?
her knitting (wow, I had no idea he cared so much!)

16. What do you and your mom do together?
talk about stuff

17. How are you and your mom the same?
we like science

18. How are you and your mom different?
she can stand the kids all yelling at the same time

19. How do you know your mom loves you?
she gives me stuff

20. Where is your mom’s favorite place to go?
 the hotel restaurant (it is the nicest place in town, there are only about 4 options)

Earthquake!

So there was an earthquake on the east coast of the USA yesterday. My sister lives in Virginia and said it was pretty scary for her and her little ones--things fell off shelves and they had just all gathered under the dining room table when the shaking stopped. Friends of mine in Pennsylvania and New Hampshire said they felt it too. A 5.9 is a pretty good size. I remember an earthquake in Seattle 9 or 10 years ago that was about that size, and I felt it where I was in college in Ellensburg  (110 miles away). It made the lights swing and they closed several buildings on campus for several hours while they inspected them for structural damage. I remember that being unnerving.
Prior to that I remember one other earthquake. I was 13 or 14 and I was babysitting and the whole house started swaying. It scared me for a minute until I realized that it was just an earthquake... I don't remember how big it was, but there was no damage. I called my dad and he made the excellent point that aftershocks tend to be smaller than the initial quake, and I calmed down and was ok.

When we moved to Homer two years ago I learned what it means to be totally unphased by earthquakes. We had been there just a few weeks when one afternoon things started to shake. At first I thought it was our dryer, because it could get a pretty good vibration going on through the house...but the dryer wasn't running. By the time I realized it was an earthquake it was over. I hurried to the other room where my then 2-years-old Bear was playing serenely. I asked if he was ok. He said yes. I asked if he felt the shaking. He looked at me like I was asking about quantum physics. Alrighty then!
Over the next few months I learned that we would get earthquakes several times a week--sometimes several times a day--and that every 6-8 weeks one would be a 3 or 4 or 5 and I would feel it. I learned how to guess at how big they were (and I got fairly good too--I'd put my guess on my facebook, and then ten minutes later go look it up, and I was usually within 0.2 or so!) I also learned that familiarity breeds contempt, or, at least, apathy, because not one of my kids has ever seemed the least bit phased by all these earthquakes. And, I confess, at this point, neither am I. If nothing even falls off a shelf, well, I just hop on facebook and make my prediction...
Of course, here in Kotzebue we are off the ring of fire (for the first time in my life I live in a non-earthquake zone!), so perhaps I'll re-sensitize to them. Who knows. Here I think we are probably more likely to see a polar bear in downtown than to feel an earthquake. (I'll be sure to let you know if that happens.)

But back to the Virginia quake, KSL News (in Utah) made sure to let us all know that four spires broke off the top of the Mormon temple.
AND, in case you haven't heard yet, there are some conflicting opinions about the causes of the shaking...

It has been determined that the epicenter of the Va earthquake was in a graveyard just outside of DC. The cause appears to be all of our Founding Fathers rolling over in their graves.


The President has just confirmed that the DC earthquake yesterday occurred on a rare and obscure fault-line, apparently known as "Bush's Fault."

Michelle Bachmann has promised to keep future quakes at 2.9.

The president wanted it to be a 3.6, but the Republicans said it needed to be a 6.0, so they compromised.

It wasn't an earthquake. It was a 14.6 Trillion dollar check bouncing.

...got any more for me?

30 Days--Day 8

Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.

"Hey mom, we're planets!"

taken in 2004, so Wolf (left) was 4, and on the right is my youngest brother (who was 3). 

(there are others...perhaps I should start a regular feature "pictures that make me laugh" hmm, I would have so many things to post for that... my kids make me laugh almost every day, and my husband or dog get the days in between!)

Getting the Mail in Alaska in Wintertime

1. Decide that you want the mail more than you want to stay warm. (Sometimes it takes two or three days to reach this decision--but if I know there's a netflix out there, or we're expecting a package from someone, I usually buck up and go for it.)
2. Collect all the appropriate paraphernalia: coat, boots, mittens, hat, mailbox key, lighter...
3. Put mailbox key in armpit (inside coat). This is optional, but it will most likely speed things up later on.
4. Zip up, mittens on, venture forth...the mailboxes are one driveway over. Don't drop that key out of your armpit on the way m'kay? If you do it will be a booger to find, cuz remember it's dark 3/4 of the day, and little keys don't show up very well in snow...
5. Once at the mailboxes, light the lighter, using your body to shield the flame from the wind, and hold the flame on the mailbox lock until it gets really frosty, and then gets all wet, and then the water runs out of it... this may take anywhere from 30-90 seconds. Once the water is running then the lock is probably thawed enough to get the key in.
6. Retrieve the key from your armpit (it stays much warmer there than it would have in your pocket, sparing you a key-heating step, which is good, because holding the flame on the key makes it vulnerable to bending or breaking, not that I would know...)
7. Put the key in the lock. If you can. You may need to reapply the lighter, or you may need to push the key really really hard. Or both. Try not to bend the key, it doesn't work after you do that.
8. Turn the key. This is actually the hardest part of the whole process, as the mailbox keys are cheap little things...
9. Retrieve mail, close box, and turn key straight again. (OK, I may have lied, that may be the hardest part.)
10. Retrieve key. If you can. Muahahahaaaaaaaa!!!
11. Hurry home, go through your mail, ask yourself why you live in Alaska. Then  hang up your coat, put away your boots, put on some tea, and remind yourself why you live in Alaska.

Of course, when the temperature rises to around 40 then all of this is no longer necessary...we get the mail daily in those spells!

Tallow

We bought a half a cow a few weeks ago. They asked us if we'd like the scraps, and  (under the assumption that it would be soup bones and such) we said yes. But actually it's not soup bones, it's a lot of sinew and fat. So I'm rendering out the tallow to make candles (which is all kinds of exciting and fun!)
Tallow is solid at room temperature, but becomes liquid when heated, so to render the tallow I chop up the fat chunks, add a little water, and boil them until all the fat separates from all the other stuff. Then I strain it (to get out little chunks of sinew or meat) and let the water and fat separate and cool until the tallow solidifies (at which point I can pick it off the water in a big chunk).

This morning Wolf saw a container on the counter where I'd left some tallow to separate and cool overnight. He asked what it was, and we told him it was tallow "you know, the fat from the cow."
"Oh," he said knowingly, looking at the container and seeing a solid part and a liquid part, "the tallow and the oil."
"No," Hubby clarified, "the tallow is the oil, it's just solid at room temperature."
"Really?" Wolf asked.
"Sure," I interjected. "After all, cows are solid at room temperature!"

Monopoly with a Three-year-old

This week my husband brought home Alaskan Monopoly (he inherited it from someone at the school I think). Anyway, Wolf was very excited to play it, so tonight after dinner we set it up.
Bear was on my team, since three is pretty young to try to play on his own. After about our fourth turn he got tired of waiting for turns and started playing on his own.

First he traded out everyone's playing pieces.
Where's my piece?
What were you?
I was the car.
Oh, well, I think you're the hat now.
I thought [someone else] was the hat.
No, he used to be the hat, but now he's the battleship, gee, weren't you paying attention??

Then he started playing with the houses and hotels.
Wait, you can't have a house on Juneau, you don't own all the reds.
I didn't put a house on Juneau!
Oh, it was Bear, Bear, you can't just build houses on the board, you have to do them on the table.
[Bear grins and puts a hotel on the board]

And then there was the money.
Here mommy, you can have a pretty pink money.
Oh, thanks honey, where did you get that?
From Daddy.
Oh, well then give this other pink money to daddy, ok?
--and--
Hey, I thought I was broke, I just mortgaged three properties to pay you, how did I get a $500 in my money?
You must not have noticed it
Um, I'm pretty sure I checked...
[Bear grins innocently]

Lost in translation...

My boys have this little plastic knight's helmet. They've had it since, well, Wolf had it before I met him, so for a very long time. It is much-loved and often-worn.

The other day I just happened to notice there was some raised writing inside of it:

"CAUTION
THE SIMULATED PROTECTIVE DEVICE WAS NOT SAFETY DEVICE AND OFFERED NO PROTECTION"

"MADE IN CHINA"
[of course]

In Which I Melt a Stainless Steel Pan

I wish this were an April Fool's Day joke.

It's not.

Many women like to boast about their 'multitasking' skills. Newsflash folks, there is no such thing as multitasking, there is only jumping rapidly from one task to another. Some people jump more rapidly than others, and some people do it with more grace than others, but nobody really does more than one thing at once.

Unfortunately, while I often jump rapidly from one thing to another, I do not always do it with much grace, because I tend to forget about some of the multiple things that I'm in the middle of.
Such was the case this week when I put some water on to boil (Bear and I were going to have some oatmeal). I measured the water, put it in the pan, turned the stove on high, and went to do something else for a few minutes. Something turned into another thing and within a couple of minutes I'd completely forgotten about that water on the stove. I guess at least 15 minutes elapsed before I went back into the kitchen and realized that the pot had boiled dry. This was not the first time I had boiled a pot dry (embarrassing though it is) so I turned off the burner and grabbed the pan to put some water in it and cool it down. I intended to use hot water, so as to not stress the metal so much. I was holding the pan in the air above the sink waiting for the faucet to warm up when I noticed something in the sink.

What the...?!?!

Then I noticed this
Apparently my stainless steel pan had an aluminum core (which makes sense, since aluminum conducts heat well). Apparently I had sufficiently overheated the thing so that the stainless steel bottom split on the seam and the liquid aluminum poured out.

I am grateful that it poured into my sink, and that I had very little in the sink at the time, and the only real victim (besides the pan) was one plastic-handled spoon.

I collected quite a nice little pile of aluminum blobs. (If you look just to the left of my ring here you can see the reverse print from the 'good cook' logo of the spoon.) I have no idea what to do with them, but it seems a shame to just toss them out...does anybody know what to do with a bunch of aluminum? I don't really want to heat it to the melting point again.

Stories of Driver's Ed

One of my sisters is currently taking a driver's education course, and when she told me this story I thought it was funny enough that I asked her to write it up with the promise that I'd publish it here to share with the world. So here is her story (in her words)...

When I took driver’s Ed these past two months I was told I would have to go on six drives, and I was a little nervous. However, all nervousness faded after my first drive, when I met the driving instructor. She was everything an instructor should be, calm, business-like, and cheerful. She would politely point out when I should start to stop, when I should turn, and about when the wheel should be moving for me to successfully make the light. Everything went great on my first two drives, and I was absolutely confident in myself when the third drive came around and I was told I would have the sub, Derek, because my instructor was going out of town for a wedding. I smiled and said okay, not worrying about it because of my past experience with driving instructors. The day came and I hopped happily into the car with the driving instructor, who, sadly for him, had the misfortune of looking like a certain older brother of mine who is famous for having a need for speed. In his own way Derek was just as polite as my other instructor. He insisted on singing a solo of lady gaga for me the entire way and I was forced to smile and nod, smile and nod. Derek was an absolute gentleman. There was no need for me to drive, thought he, and he gallantly relived me of both wheel and brake. As we drove along, I had one side of the wheel, and he had the other. I controlled the accelerator, but long before we reached the stop light, he politely used my brake, despite the fact my foot was already easing down on it. When I turned a corner, I signaled, and he turned. When he told me to angle park, he explained it, drew a picture of it, and then did it himself. I not only felt like a bad driver, I didn’t feel like a driver at all. Even in the parking lot, going five miles an hour, he insisted on letting me relax while he told me how to, and then demonstrated all the various kinds of parking and passing. I did my best to smile and nod, when I now realize I should have taken this time to take finish my book. It’s really sad I left it at home, but when I left I had no idea I would have the opportunity to read! At one point he asked me how I would back from the parking place I was in, to one on the far side and far end of the lot. I told him I would put the car in reverse, pull out of this spot, back along until I reached the other, and then back into it. He told me he had a serious problem with me backing for such a long time. “What I would do,” he told me, “would be to back out of this, pull forward to the next one, and then back into that.” I was confused and asked him if it was just me, or if he had really said “Back from this spot to that one.” He told me that is exactly what he said, but that there was no need to back the whole way! Needless to say (unless you are one of the rare breed of Derek-understanders) I was confused. It ended up okay though, because he did it for me. After that drive my confidence was in need of patching up, but it was partially repaired when at my next class, the other students who had had the pleasure of being chauffeured by Derek, said he did the same thing to them.

On my next drive I was once again with my normal instructor. After getting into the lesson car and adjusting the seat, she asked if I had practiced parallel parking. “Well,” I said, “Derek did.”

Too Many Numbers

There is a scene at the beginning of a little film called "Why Man Creates." One character is asking the other a series of questions, to which each answer is a series of numbers (address, phone number, ID number, zip code, etc etc). After a few exchanges their conversation devolves into just a lot of numbers
Man 1: "7389456?"
Man 2: "934647393"
Man 1: "9374"
Man 2: "3934 8493988 738937!!"
It's a nice commentary on how we have turned everything about ourselves into a series of numbers...on the one hand it's terribly impersonal, on the other hand it affords some privacy I suppose...but in the long run, it's just hard to remember them all.

The other day I called my bank about something and they asked me to provide verification of my identity. I'm glad that they do this of course--I wouldn't want someone else poking about in my bank account information--but somewhere in the middle my brain crashed.
Teller: "last four digits of your social?"
Me: "[yeah right like I'd publish that!]"
Teller: "home phone number"
Me: "[or that!]"
Teller: "Home address"
Me: "[number, street, city] Alaska..." mental blue screen of death! "998...wait, that was my old zip code...um, 99...shoot, I can't remember my zip code! I think it's 99***" (Which it's not by the way, I got two of the three digits right but they were in the wrong order.)
Thankfully I had known all the other stuff so she believed that I was me.
But really, who forgets their own zip code? Especially when they've had it for 7 months?
Me, apparently.

Twilight--the Singles Ward Edition

one of the funniest things I've seen in ages. (Thanks Nessa!)

Twilight Years from Tom on Vimeo.

(as a note, this will not be nearly as funny if you are not familiar with Twilight and/or mormon culture.)

Spelling Stories

Each week Wolf has a list of spelling words. As part of his homework he's supposed to either write a sentence for each word, or a story using all the words. He usually opts for the sentences, because trying to make a coherent story out of a list of random words is daunting, but a couple of times I've looked at his list of words and seen story just begging to get out, so I've helped him make a story with them. They are awfully cute and I thought they should be preserved. (When I told him I'd like to copy the stories to share he got quite excited.) ☺
Keeping in mind that these are written for/by a 9 year old boy, enjoy!
(spelling words are italicized)




Orion and I went on a trip by ourselves. You have to understand our background. Orion always gets homesick whenever we go to an airport, so I thought this time we could go by railroad. I was just putting on my seatbelt when Orion barfed everywhere. I had never seen anything like it. He barfed everything he had eaten since breakfast. Meanwhile I already knew we would go home by afternoon. That night as we sat by my fireplace, we talked about the ninety-nine places we want to go Maybe next time we will go on motorcycles and then Orion will be all right. It's a good thing our trips are all make-believe, otherwise I might not go with him again; that barf was really bad!

The End

(The teacher wrote back that this was "the best spelling word story [he] had ever read!")

Don't you think they should make electric jackets? It would work like an electric blanket.

I made the mistake of bringing up this peculiar topic with my friend Fred. Fred didn't hear me, he was too busy telling me about his tropical trip. He told me an aquatic story that made me sick to my stomach.

He was at a public beach with his pet squirrel when he decided to go surfing. He went to his dad's truck to get a surfboard but the only one left was crooked. He decided to go anyway. He went out on the water but the wobbly board made his back ache so he decided to lay down on the board and look at fish.. He saw a beautiful speckled one swim next to him and then sink again. He didn't stop to question why, he struck out after it. Unfortunately something else had decided to track that fish too. Fred saw the shark just in time to avoid attack. the shark bit the speckled fish in half and Fred swam away very fast.

I'll stay home with my electric jacket thank you!

The End

Grinchy Musings

I like Christmas, I really do. But after a whole month of love and light I confess I definitely have my moments of relating to Scrooge or the Grinch. Of course, the best things about those characters is that in the end they learn to love, and they cease to be "Scroogelike" and "Grinchy" respectively...but for the moment (in lighthearted fun of course) I thought I'd share a few of my Grinchier holiday thoughts:
(did I just make up that word, grinchier? hmm, nice!)

• All the twinkle lights shining on my tree, window, and front porch stairs are a little less lovely when I consider how they will shine through my electric bill next month.
• I hate people spending money they don't have for stuff they don't need. The only thing that's worse is people spending money (whether they have it or not) to give me stuff that I don't need/have nowhere to put.
  
• Really bad commercials. Need I say more? (Of course there are a few funny ones too, like this one, or this one.)
  
• Some of the worst "traditional, must-see movies" seem to be official holiday fare. It's often difficult to escape...even if I manage to avoid seeing the actual film (which I usually do), I frequently have to hear it mentioned or even quoted, and then come the memories...and the pain...
  
• Ditto on some of the worst songs ever...(and I'm not the only one who thinks so!) oh, excuse me, did you just say "snow" or "bell" or "winter" or "santa" or "tree" in that lame love song? Well, nobody would listen to it otherwise, but we'll call it a Christmas Song and give it airtime anyway! (everybody pardon me while I go barf for a minute).
  
• Having a newborn baby is a good excuse to not take goody plates to anyone else this year...and to eat more than my share of the goodies on the plates that are brought to us. (Hey, I need those extra 1000 calories a day for the nursling, I'm required to eat them, I have to get them in wherever I can!)
• It's a bit lame that some of the best foods are somehow 'reserved' for Christmas. Who decided that anyway? Can I take my post-pregnancy hormonal self on a little shooting spree in said persons' vicinity? I mean, really, we should eat homemade truffles and cardamom bread and peppermint pie all year long. Duh.
• It seems to be a law of the universe that my biggest sewing/knitting failures (you know, the "EPIC FAIL" ones) always happen when I'm trying to work too fast to get something finished up in time to slip it under the tree...Nothing stresses me out like a project on a timeline gone horribly horribly wrong.
  
• And finally, I get grinchy over the growing trend of not bothering to send holiday greeting cards/letters/photos (or with going digital--yes, this may be the only anti-green sentiment you ever hear from me, write it down someplace quick!). I know stamps are expensive (I have three international addresses on my list--that's 98cents now!) I know not everybody has the time or money every year...but really truly I think the thought counts for something, and I like hearing from people and seeing all those pretty cards taped up on the wall.
  

So Merry Christmas! You survived another year, and if you eat enough sugar cookies in the next few days you will probably survive the next one. Probably. (You may have to jumpstart with another batch of cookies around Valentines or Easter.)

Tiny Talk Tuesday

So, as my regular readers know, I use cloth menstrual pads. I make them with scraps of fabric left from other projects. I happen to have one that has the same print as my son’s flannel blanket. Bear recognized the fabric when he saw me take the pad out of the cupboard last week, and he said “my blankie!” and tried to grab it. I said no, your blanket is in your bed; this is mommy’s. He said “mommy blankie?” Um, well, sure. Close enough for a 2 year old, right?
But kids remember more than you might think. A couple of days later, he saw me getting a different pad (different fabric), and got all excited and said “Mommy blankie!!”

-----------------------------------------------------

I refer to my kids as Wolf and Bear because those are nicknames we actually do use...Bear is only 2, but "bear" is his middle name... Wolf (age 8) identifies with the wolf as a sort of totem...
Well, this morning we went to wake Wolf for school, and discovered that he had slept naked (he had jammies on when I tucked him in last night!) He explained that it was a full moon, and he was hoping that he might turn into a wolf overnight, so he had taken off his clothes just in case. ☺

For more kids saying amusing things, check out NotBefore7's Tiny Talk Tuesday (click the button)

The Importance of Feet

The other night Hubby and I were talking, and the subject turned to a particular relative of ours whom I'll call Marge (because that is not her name). ☺ She's the spouse of one of his cousins, so we don't see her terribly often, but sometimes at extended family gatherings she's there. She has a daughter near Wolf's age, and a son just a couple of months older than Bear, and she seems to have concluded that she and I clearly have a lot in common.
The first time I met her was right before Bear was born, (when she had a newborn), she was asking me how the pregnancy was going, and I said it was great--because it was. She told me about she hated being pregnant but it was nice to have the kids, although she was definitely done because three was her MAX (here was me who had been praying to be able to have a baby at all but hey, she didn't know that), and then she concluded "I have just one thing to say about birth: drugs drugs DRUGS!"
Um, I don't feel that way. ☺
But it was one of those casual social situations and she was getting ready to go so I said nothing.
A few months later she was again present at the gathering when we announced that we were looking at taking a job in rural Alaska. She rolled her eyes at Hubby and then turned to me and said "you're ok with that? If my husband took a job like that he would be going alone!" Her tone left no doubt about the finality of her feeling.
This summer we saw her again. She asked how my etsy shop was going, and announced that she had a fabulous idea for a product I could sell "they're super easy to make and sell for, like, $20!" Suffice it to say that the item she described was something I can only define as 'froo-froo,' something I do not have (or want) the supplies for, something I would never use myself, and good grief why would I put it in my store, you know? Again, I smiled and nodded and said well, that's not really my thing and went to find someone else to talk to.
She-who-is-not-really-named-Marge is a very nice woman, but she just makes me a little crazy, you know? So it was this craziness that Hubby and I were discussing...
I said "I really have nothing in common with her," to which Hubby replied "sure you do, you both have feet."
Clearly, this is an important point upon which to base a friendship.

Why Christmas is Nice

This is one of my favorite Christmas stories, and the one we are performing for tonight's school play (which I am in charge of)...

Once upon a time, in the days before anything much was organized, and when people were all pretty much alike and had not yet learned to be doctors or politicians or secretaries or movie stars or optometrists, there were never any holidays, because everyone was too busy.

What they were busy doing was taking STUFF! They spent all of their time either taking stuff, or trying to take stuff, or planning to take stuff from each other, or fixing the walls and fences and barbed-wire in their section of the jungle so no one could take stuff from them.

In those days, it was considered absolutely necessary to have a LOT of stuff, and taking it gave people a stimulating feeling. When they took something especially good (something BIG) the feeling started in the back of their neck and spread down across their back and made a tingle in their left foot. This feeling was pleasant mostly because it was the only feeling anyone ever had, except maybe being scared or hungry.

Several techniques had been developed for taking stuff. These techniques were, first: SWIPING! This was the most difficult because, naturally, few people were foolish enough to leave any of their stuff lying around unguarded.

The second and most popular method was to find someone smaller than you, give them a BASH and take whatever stuff they had at the time.

The third was to find someone your own size, sneak up behind them, and give them an unexpected BASH. Then you could grab their stuff and run like crazy. This method, although dangerous, had the advantage of being healthful as the bashing and running prompted deep breathing and increased heart rate as well as keeping the waistline down.

Now in time the smaller people learned to be very clever at hiding and swiping. And the larger people developed a protective layer of bone across the back of the skulls. And some of the medium-sized discovered they could tell BIG LIES about the amount of stuff they had hidden, and that this was about the same as actually having stuff! And so a status quo came to exist and it balanced out pretty well for everyone... for everyone, that is, except Marvin Ouk.

Marvin Ouk lived in a rather provincial area of the jungle, and his only neighbors were named Gloog, Howk, Murdleigh, and Lester. Now Gloog, Howk, Murdleigh, and Lester had each accumulated about the same amount of stuff. They were all about the same size, and they had equally excellent walls and so it became difficult for them to increase their stuff.

One day, Murdleigh would bash Gloog and take his shirt and an egg beater, but the next day Howk would bash Murdleigh and get his shirt and a fountain pen. And so on ...

They were all getting bashed a great deal, and in the long run there was no percentage in it. So, after a while, they all concentrated mostly on taking stuff from Marvin. This was not an easy thing to do. Marvin was the smallest and the most simple and the least devious of all the people. He didn't even have a proper wall or fence and as a result . . . he had no stuff. In fact, Marvin never had anything! He lived on toadstools, since no one would take them. The only feeling he ever experienced was when no one hit him on the head. He really enjoyed being not hit!

So it wasn't long before Gloog and Howk and Murdleigh and Lester gave up even trying to take stuff from Marvin. It wasn't worth the trouble it took to bash him, because although he bashed easily, Marvin was concussion-prone, and merely fell quietly, face forward, and didn't yell or holler or do anything that was fun.

And so in this part of the village the status became more quo than was suitable. Actually, the status became over-quo’d, and everyone sat behind their walls and got restless.

Murdleigh became particularly uptight about the situation. He was afraid he would lose his skill at taking stuff. So he rushed out and found Marvin Ouk and in his mind he pretended that Marvin was carrying a whole bunch of stuff. He gave Marvin an excellent bash and pretended to take all the imaginary stuff away from him, but it didn't work! He didn't get any feeling or tingle at all!

He went back home and fretted some more. "It didn't work to pretend," he said to himself. And he began to think. Suddenly a big idea came to him. A really big idea. "If I'm going to practice on Marvin, I must have it as close to the 'real thing' as possible. Marvin has got to have some stuff that I can take away from him!" He paused, because he had to make up a word to express the odd idea he had in his head. "Give," he said. "I will give Marvin something first. Then I can take it!"

So Murdleigh searched through all his stuff, and he picked out a spoon with a broken handle, and he went out to find Marvin. When Marvin saw him, he sighed and looked around for a soft spot to fall on. He was, of course, very surprised, even shocked, when Murdleigh stopped in front of him and made no bashing gestures!

"Ouk," said Murdleigh, making a peculiar twist in his face (which later they called a smile), "Ouk, I have some stuff here. I want to . . ." Murdleigh swallowed and continued with some effort. "I want . . . I want . . . I want to GIVE you this stuff." He pushed the spoon forward. Marvin backed away. "Murdleigh has sprung a gasket," he thought to himself. "I better get out of here quickly as he could be dangerous!" But Murdleigh anticipated Marvin's escape, and he seized him by the arm. "Here!" he said, and placed the spoon in Marvin's hand. "I want you to have this!"

Then he stepped back, and he prepared to give Marvin a bash and take the stuff in the usual, approved manner, but before he could do a single thing, before he could move even one muscle, he felt a strange, new feeling. A feeling ten times more powerful than the feeling he always had when he took stuff. It started in the back of his chest, and it spread not just through his back and his left foot, but all over. He began to tingle in both feet and both hands and on top of his head!

The new feeling was so pleasant and so powerful that Murdleigh caught his breath and sat down on the ground. "Ha!" he said and again made that kind of funny twist on his face in Marvin's direction. Marvin ran away.

"Who would have suspected?" said Murdleigh. "Giving stuff is . . . " He searched for a noise he could use to describe all this that was happening. "Oooser?" he said. Then "Meeper?" "Neeper." "Nipper." "Nisser." "NICER!" "Nicer" sounded exactly right. "GIVING stuff," Murdleigh thought, "is a whole lot nicer than taking stuff."

Murdleigh soon found out that part of the new feeling was a desire to let everyone else know about it. So he did. Another great discovery was made. The secret of the new feeling has been passed down from century to century. But sometimes we don't see too much evidence of it except at Christmas time, when instead of bashing and taking, people are smiling and giving, and it feels very nice!

Talking Bear

So, you know how kids say words in the cutest ways? I decided to document some this week...

moo-nee = smoothie (one of his favorite things! I make them like this)
Nurn, na-nu, or wan-too = nursing
shooshoo = shoes and socks
duck = stuck (or come help me!)
bankee = blanket/blankee (he loves to snuggle with the bankee and the nanu at bedtime or naptime...lately he insists that he needs all three of his bankees.)
omo = remote control (he knows he's not supposed to play with them, so if we have them out for use, he usually brings them to us with a concerned "omo! omo!" His favorite place to put them is on dad's shoulders...dad did that once to keep the remotes out of the way because Bear was on his lap...and now Bear has concluded that that is the only correct place for them.)
bum-bum = diaper
piss-EEN = this is his word for his little boy part...yes we told him the correct word...no we don't know how he ended up with this
coo-mee = excuse me (he says this when he wants to get past someone, or when anyone in the room burps or *foofs)
dop-it = stop it
wet-go = let go (he says this at night when I'm trying to get him to stay in bed and he wants to go play)

and a few things he pronounces impeccably, even if his meaning is unusual...

iss hot = it's hot (this is his only word for temperature...he says it about everything from shower water to cold wind.)
HAT! = I am putting on my hat because I want to go outside!!
go!-go!-go!-go!-go! = let's go run back and forth down the hall or go outside or something
bunny - 'skin the bunny' (we say this to him when we're taking off his shirt--he already knew to hold his arms up for this, but now he will come to me, plucking at his shirt, and asking "bunny?")
boat
bird (also duck, although he doesn't know which birds are ducks unless i tell him_
no
yes (although he rarely says it--usually he just repeats the word of what he wants if he wants it, or says no if he doesn't)


To see more cute stuff that kids say, check out Tiny Talk Tuesday, celebrating our kids, the things they say, and their view of the world.

*foof is the family word for flatulance

Fun Times on the Phone

At one point my dad left a message like this on our machine:
"Hello, if it's Sunday, we're at church. If it's Monday, we're having family night. If it's Tuesday or Thursday we have soccer. Wednesday is scouts. Friday is date night--you wouldn't possibly call then would you? Saturday we work in the yard. So that's why we didn't answer the phone, and why we may not be able to find time to call you back...but if you want to leave a message then go ahead and we'll probably listen to it."

Here was my favorite one he ever did (on our machine, if someone pressed a button it would just skip the rest of the outgoing message and go straight to the beep):
"If you'd like to leave a message for [dad], press one.
If you'd like to leave a message for [mom], press two.
If you'd like to leave a message for the kids, press three.
If you have a dog, press four.
If you have a rotary phone, press five.
If you'd like to press six, press seven.
Thank you."

So, how about you? What are some of the funnier messages you've heard? (or, alternatively, some really amusing phone conversations you've had?) Or even if you just really hate the phone. whatever, I just need some good laughs this week. ☺