Remember the time I had to wander around a men's restroom in the dark?

This is the sentence I am going to be using to get Ethan to do things that I don't want to day for a LONG time. It seems that the majority of our humiliatingly funny stories take place in a restroom. (Like THIS ONE, or THIS ONE) Why is that? Well, for starters it might be my unreasonably huge phobia of public restrooms, or maybe it's the fact that my kids pick up on that fear, and play off it. Who knows, but this is one more "potty story" to add to the list. Lately Ethan has had a really bad habit of turning off the light when he leaves a public restroom. Sometimes it doesn't matter, but sometimes there are other people in there, and it is a problem. Usually someone gives a little holler and Ethan will go back in and flip it on again. I'm not sure why he has this problem, he doesn't turn out ANY lights at our house... but back to the matter at hand. A few weeks ago we were traveling a little bit, and we used a LOT of public restrooms. This little lights out problem happened repeatedly, but it was never much of a big deal. Then came the last night of our vacation. We were eating at a restaurant, and Ethan went to the restroom. I was waiting outside the door for him. When he came out he flipped off the light. I started to remind him to turn it back on when all of a sudden a string of profanity came full speed out of the restroom. Somebody had been in there, and he was MAD! Really mad. He had some impressive word-combining skill, and came up with some very colorful sentences. I told Ethan to go back in and turn it on, but he was scooting back against the opposite wall, his eyes the size of dinner plates, and worry etched on his face. Again I said "Ethan, go in there and turn the light on." He looked at me, with is scared little face, and just shook his head slightly.

"Ethan, you have to, that guy is mad!"

Another little shake of the head.

They guy in the bathroom is getting MORE angry, if that's possible. We can hear his frustration through the now closed bathroom door. Something had to be done.

"Ethan, I'm not kidding"

He suddenly springs into life. He takes off toward our table. "I'm going to get Grandpa."

But I know that my dad is already in the truck waiting for us. And now nearly everyone in the restaurant is looking our way, wondering what I had done to make the Angry Pooper so vocal. There was only one thing to do. I had to flip the light on. I opened the door, and stuck my hand in. I felt all along the wall, as far as I could reach. Nothing. No switch. They guy is still yelling. He isn't making any effort to come out of the stall and turn it on himself. Several people are still looking my way, but no one is coming to my aid. (Thanks all of you LAZY men!) I swing the bathroom door open wide to allow for as much light as I can get. Then I plunge into the bathroom, which smells just about the way you would think a men's bathroom might smell, only times ten (Yuck! That's how I know to call him the "angry pooper". It was obvious what he was doing in there, and probably that is why he was so mad about the little predicament, and why he made no move to remedy the situation...) I still can't see the switch, and the door is about to swing closed again. Just as the light dims I see the switch on the opposite wall from where I had been looking. I dive for it, just as the light ends. I feel around the wall in the dark, finally find the switch, flip it on, cover my eyes just in case somebody was exposed. I dart for the door, dash across the restaurant and into the freedom of the outdoors, run across the parking lot, jump in the truck and yell for my dad to "GO! Drive!" You would think I had just held up the place or something, but I did need to make a get away, and fast before anyone saw my face. Whew, and then I was safe. But I do think I will avoid Price, Ut and the surrounding areas for a while just in case someone might recognize me! On second thought maybe we should avoid public places all together for a while...

The mouse story...

A while back I told you all to remind me to tell you the story of Ethan's first mouse killing adventure. (Not to be confused with the second, or the third. What can I say, mice are not our favorite.) Usually I say that and no body reminds me, and then it's just a great story that everybody misses. But not this time. I can't tell you how many e-mails I got reminding me about the mouse story. (Now I hope it is really as funny as I thought it was, or everyone is going to be way disappointed. Geez talk about pressure!) Just on a side note, this story is far more disgusting than funny. You will laugh, but mostly just to keep from gagging. It is not for those of you with a weak stomach. There is your warning. So here goes, The Mouse Story:

Once upon a time, in a land far from all civilization (I'm talking about La Sal here:) we lived in an old ranch house. It was surrounded by acres and acres of nothing, so we had all kinds of wildlife getting in our space. We especially had a problem with mice. Ethan was almost 4 at the time, and he was FAST! He had reflexes of lightning speed. He could go from complete stand still to full speed ahead so quickly you hardly even knew he had moved. He was amazing. (And exhausting!) In the dining room of the house we lived there was a big fireplace with a huge stone hearth in front. The hearth was raised so it made a perfect place for a 4 year old to sit. And this particular day, that's exactly what Ethan was doing. He was sitting there watching a movie, I was in the kitchen half way watching the kids, half way making dinner, and Adia was in her walker scooting around the floor. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a mouse climbing up the opposite end of the hearth from where Ethan was sitting. I grabbed a broom and went after the mouse as quietly but quickly as I could. The mouse heard me coming and made a mad dash across the hearth to get away from me. But it was headed straight toward Ethan. I though this was a good thing. The mouse would notice Ethan, stop, and give me time to get it with the broom. But that wasn't what happened at all. The mouse ran right past Ethan's little bum and jumped off the hearth, landing at Ethan's feet. More out of impulse than conscious thought Ethan activated those lightning fast reflexes, moved his little bare foot, and stepped right on that mouse. You could hear the crunch. The mouse was FLAT. It did a little death shake, and then it was over. But it was just the beginning for Ethan. Once he finally realized what had just happened, he jumped up and started dancing around lifting up the mouse-smasher foot. Then he started shivering, you know the kind you do when you feel like spiders are crawling on you or something. I can only imagine how gross that felt on his bare foot. Yuck! Adia, who was already quite amused by the mouse smashing, thought that he was doing a little dance for her, and started laughing and clapping. Then he looked down at the mouse, all flat, and slightly bleeding. (with a little bit of mouse "stuffing" spewed out the back, I might add) Then the heaving started. Over and over again, he dry heaved and gagged. Finally he got it under control and took a breath. No harm done. But then he thought about it, and heaved again, only this time it wasn't dry anymore. He threw up a couple of times, got it back under control again, and I thought we were out of the woods. I wasn't really sure what mess to clean up first, the crunched mouse bleeding on my floor, or the recycled lunch splattered all over the room. As I contemplated what to do Ethan had another episode spewing and dancing around in it. I realized that something had to be done fast, and suddenly I made up my mind. The mouse had to go, and then maybe the puking would stop. I was not about to get close enough to the mouse to scoop it up in the dust pan - Have I mentioned that I'm not a fan of mice? (read: scared out of my MIND by mice.) So I ran outside and got the snow shovel. I scooped the little guy up (It took a little scraping to get him off the floor-Ethan really mashed the sucker) and told Ethan to open the door fast. Of course he ran right through the puke, slipped, and fell right in a big puddle of it. This made for more gagging on his part. I normally have a pretty strong stomach, I rode the "La Sal Bus" for 8 years. But this was getting to be too much for me. I started dry heaving as well. By this point Adia is laughing so hard she can hardly breath. She is starting to turn purple from lack of oxygen. I get it pulled together before I drop the mouse in the pile of puke and cause any of us to puke anymore. It is starting to get deep, and I want to put an end to it before we all drown. I take the mouse outside an dispose of him. Then I come back in where Ethan, has gotten up to the standing position, has noticed that he is now covered from head to toe in the stuff, and is starting the heaving process all over again. I yell at him that it is enough. No more puking, gagging, heaving, etc. is aloud anymore! He thinks he is in trouble, and takes off running. I run after him, capture him (He's fast, but the slip-sliding in the vomit slows him down a little bit) and throw him in the shower, clothes and all. I am covered in puke now myself from wrestling Ethan into the shower, but I decided to clean up the dining room before I cleaned myself up. I go back into the dining room where Adia has decided she has missed out on all the fun, and has maneuvered the walker right into the puddle of vomit, and is delightedly splashing her little feet in it. So that is how Troy found us when he got off work. All three of us fully clothed, standing in the shower crying, the dining room still dripping with vomit. And that is the mouse story. Ethan still shudders when we talk about it. Now that it's over I am a little proud of the super speed it took to do that. I can laugh now, but it took a long time to get to that point, and a long time to get the puke stains out of Ethan's clothes...

What's going on here?!?

Well, the first day of school went fine. No one really did know what they were doing the first day, but the teacher set them all straight and things are going good now. Adia finally felt comfortable enough on the THIRD day to wear the fancy pants, and no one even looked at her bum -whew, what a relief! She did say that " Sometimes if you are talking to Payton when it isn't your turn, and your teacher reminds you, but you keep doing it anyway, and that happens a few times, your teacher might yell at you." Not that she has experience there or anything, it's all just hypothetical:)

Things must be going well for her socially though because last night I overheard this conversation with my dad:

Adia: "Grandpa, are you extremely popular?"

Grandpa: "No, I don't think so. Maybe just slightly popular.:)"

Adia: "Oh, that's too bad because I am. I'm extremely popular"

Grandpa: "Why do you think you are so popular?"

Adia: "Hmmm, maybe it's because I'm so sweet and kind, or because I'm so smart, or because of how beautiful I am... I'm not really sure what makes me extremely popular."

Grandpa: "Maybe it's because you are so humble."

Adia: "You could be right..."

Ethan's teacher, who is great, (and really sent here from God just to be Ethan's teacher, I think) seemed to have a rough week last week (Ethan isn't even the biggest challenge in the class, plus in our little school 2nd and 3rd grades are together, so you can imagine that he has his hands full)But I think things are going better this week. He is going to be great for that whole class. Ethan loves school, especially breakfast and lunch. (Which I let him eat this year even though it is TOTALLY NOT on the diet) He also likes math this year because his teacher told him that it makes you faster at everything. (I think he meant at things like reading and thinking, but Ethan took that to mean, like running and bike riding. Either way I don't care. Ethan likes math, so Bless You Mr. Allen:)

As for me, I had my first Sunday of Primary, and it went mostly good. Other than having no nursery leader, and two teachers not show up (there are only 4 teachers anyway), it being my first attempt at sharing time, and us tackling a Birthday Party for Pres. Monson that wasn't 100% thought out, it was perfect. My counselors and secretary are A-MA-ZING!(Said in that sing song opera voice that Adia is famous for) I really would have sat in the corner in fetal position and cried if it hadn't been for them. Each of them pitched right in and did far more than their share, and saved my sanity. The two teachers that did come were a HUGE help also. I learned SO MUCH at church on Sunday. I am praying that this means this week will be better. If not, it is only a couple more years until I can move. I can do anything for that long, right?... Right?...

Next week I go back to college, and start teaching preschool, and I am super excited for both! In between all that I am trying to be a good mom and dad to my kids(and pretty much failing miserably), make sure they succeed in school, and squeeze a personal life in there somewhere. Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it.

School Daze!

Today was the first day of school. Usually I am a little sad about it. I really just like having my kids home, where I know that they are safe, and how they are behaving. This year, however, I was pretty ready. (Ready enough that we made a paper chain count down a couple of weeks ago so that we could keep track:) It has been a LONG summer full of adjustment and disorder, and I am ready to get back into the routine. (it's true, I say that we stick to a schedule because Ethan needs it, but really, it's all for me) But this morning I have to admit that I was a little sad to see them go. My baby is a grown up little girl now. I will never have those long days of nothing but "mom and Adie time" anymore. It's a little sad watching it all end. But, no matter how mom is feeling, the kids were EXCITED! -Like already awake, dressed, and watching for the bus by 6AM excited!
Here is Ethan in his iron man (A little too big, but who knew an 8 wouldn't fit an 8 year old) shirt. His hair is awesome too, right. He has a new hair cut (thanks Aunt Bobbi) and we did it in a cool messy-on-top do, but then Grandma got ahold of him and decided that he needed to have a more respectable ("missionary from the 70's") kind of do. And anything grandma says is cool, must be, right? So there you have it. He's "handsome just like grandpa" and all ready to go.

Adia is ready too. She agonized over what to wear. She has been planning it out for weeks now. She just couldn't decide for sure what would be the best First-day-of-school outfit. She is all about the bling, you know, and we bought her some cute little jeans with butterfly aplique' and a big rhinestone button on each back pocket. She LOVES those jeans and I thought for sure they would be picked for the most important outfit of the year. I was surprised when she picked out the least sparkly thing she had. When I asked her why she didn't pick the "fancy pants" she said, "Mom, I don't even know everybody in my class yet, I can't have them looking at my bum on the first day!" (Like I totally should have known that already. And on second thought, is it really acceptable for them to look at her bum on the second day? And don't even get me started about my fear of her showing off her new "days of the week" underpants during calendar time... Ugh, maybe we should home school her...)

She has been so excited to start school - for like two years, she has been waiting for this day. But last night as I was tucking her in she said "Mom, maybe I'm not ready yet. I don't even know how to read! Why didn't you teach me that this summer? You really should have done that by now! And what about this homework business? I don't know how to do homework! Why haven't you taught me that yet either? Come on, Mom!" I assured her that her teacher would teach her how to read, and I would help her with homework, and I told her that it's alright to be a little nervous, because no one really knows whats going on the first day. That seemed to calm her down a little. Then this morning my mom asked how she was feeling about it, and she answered "I'm good. No one knows what their doing the first day!" Then she got on the bus and sat next to her best friend Payton. She gave her a big hug and assured her, "Don't worry Payton, no one knows what their doing the first day!" Like a little pro. (I really hope that's true because she seems to be relying on that little truth quite heavily, and if she got there and every one really DID know what they were doing, I might be in a bit of trouble when she gets home.)
But if all else fails, they always have each other, and I think that gives them both a big dose of the confidence they need.

The real trial...

You know how when you are going through a trial, and things are really hard, and then, you start to work through it, and you feel like you are doing better, you are getting your feet underneath you, you know you are going to make it... and then something comes along and kicks you square in the head and brings you right back down to your knees again? Yeah, well, guess who got put in as primary president today?

WHACK!!!

THUD!!!

(Evidently on my knees is where I need to be right now...:)

Minty Fresh Breath

Adia has been having some growing pains lately, so we have been putting Bengay (generic, but like that) on her legs at night to ease the pain. We keep the tube in the top drawer of the bathroom along with a lot of other things, hair clips, fingernail polish, makeup, toothpaste... The tube looks remarkably like the "spiderman blue raspberry smoothy" toothpaste that Ethan uses... (Though the actual cream looks nothing alike, which is why the story is still a bit of a mystery to me)This morning I was cleaning up after breakfast when I hear screaming. This isn't the, my sister just flushed when I was in the shower kind of screaming. It was pain... agony... real. I rushed down the hall just in time to be plowed into by Ethan. "Mom, My mouth is on FIRE! Like... real... FIRE!!!" I can see his eyes welling up with tears. He is dancing around. His breath smells quite spicy, and very unlike a spiderman blue raspberry smoothy. I think maybe he was brushing with my toothpaste instead, but that didn't smell quite right either. He is now rolling on the floor in pain. I rush him into the bathroom and we start rinsing his mouth out, all the while he is screeching that it is getting worse. And now his eyes are burning too because he was wiping the tears away, and there must be some on his hands. Is this something that needs medical attention? Why on earth did we move to a town with no hospital or insta-care? I know I have to find out what the mystery toothpaste is, and fast, before we set anything else to burning. And then I see it, the Bengay. And I remember that lately I have been getting after Ethan for using an un-realisticly huge amount of toothpaste when he brushes. So the poor guy must have a quarter cup of the stuff in his mouth, and you know how that stuff burns and then gets worse and worse. I remember that sometimes if you use soap to wash it off, that helps, so I rinse out the Bengay toothbrush, and squirt a little antibacterial hand wash - Cherry blossom- Thanks Bath and Body Works- onto the brush. I Brush for all I'm worth... and he starts gagging. And then he pukes, and it BURNS his little throat. And we are both in tears, Ethan is still gagging, and Adia is in the background dry heaving. Finally the soap helps, and it starts to cool, and Ethan starts feeling a little better. I rush to grab the phone and call poison control. I tell them that Ethan swallowed Bengay. They ask what happened, and I tell them the whole story - they LAUGH! I find out that if he threw up he should be fine, but to give him plenty of liquids - warm is preferable to cold because the Bengay heat intensifies when it gets cold - wish I would have thought of THAT before I forced him to drink ice cold water strait out of the tap earlier. And keep and eye on him. I hang up. I give him some cocoa. I make Adia some too because she doesn't want to be left out. I clean up the puke. I put the Bengay up on the shelf. Then it hits me, this is pretty funny. I understand why the poison control guy giggled (though, still not very professional.) I start laughing too. Adia joins me. Ethan gets this look on his face that he gives me sometimes, when he thinks I'm really annoying. That makes me laugh harder. I change my puked on clothes, and sit down to blog, because these are the moments of our lives, and wouldn't it be a shame if we didn't share them?

A perfect brightness of hope.

Life has contained some roughness lately, for a lot of different reasons. This weekend we traveled quite a bit throughout the state. It was stormy and rainy almost the entire time. At first that kind of symbolized my mood, dark and cold and angry and harsh. But then, as He always does, God gave me a little boost. Over and over again I kept getting a little reminder, that in the midst of the storms little miracles poke through to help you along the way. Here are a few little miracles that I caught on camera... (Many of them were taken out of the window of the truck as we were speeding down the freeway, so please don't judge:)

Somewhere between Price and Green River

San Rafel Swell

Soldier Summit

Mt. Pleasant

The Castle Valley Pageant

(Not a great picture, but I kinda love how you can see the sunshine moving in.)

Manti

Woodside

Salina Canyon

Wherefore, ye must press forward

with a steadfastness in Christ,

having a perfect brightness of hope...

2 Nephi 31:20

Discipline

Do you see anything wrong with this broom?

Take a closer look... (Bent handle, duct tape holding it together)

Know what happened?

My mom beat Ethan with it... True story.

Well, not entirely true. (If my mom knew I wrote that she would probably beat ME with the broom:) Here's what really happened. First, right after we moved here the kids found a little mouse on the front porch. They cornered it and decided to kill it. (We don't love mice here. It isn't a secret, if you do love them stop reading now, because is doesn't end well for the mouse) They got a shoe box and set up a "trap" complete with cheese, and a rope to pull to trap the mouse when it got inside. They worked on it all morning, but the little mouse would never go into the box. (I can't imagine why, with two little kids hovering nearby yelling "HERE LITTLE MOUSY, COME INTO THE BOX SO WE CAN CATCH YOU AND KILL YOU!" over and over) finally I made them come inside for lunch. When they finished they ran back out to check on the mouse and it was gone:( But upon further inspection it had actually not gone far. It climbed up one of the brick pillars on the porch, thinking it had escaped (silly mouse, these are my kids) The kids spotted it, and Ethan, without a word, grabbed the broom that happened to be laying on the porch and pounded that little mouse. He smacked him off the pillar and onto the ground, then smacked the crap out of him until he was nothing more than a streak across the steps. We ended up with the broom handle broken off, and Ethan had to scrub mouse remains off of the step with the hose, but other than that we were really proud of him. That is the story behind the duct tape. (That also reminds me of another story about Ethan killing a mouse, and another story about my repeatedly killing hope, love and peace, they are pretty funny, so remind me to tell you those another day)

The duct tape worked pretty well, and we used the broom for quite a while that way. Then one day some sweet little helper took the broom back outside for a project, but forgot about it, and left it laying on the lawn. Grandma came home on the 4-wheeler and ran right over the handle. That weakened it, but we were still able to use it. (Remember, we live in the middle of no where, and you can't just run to the store for a new broom any time some silly little thing like braking the handle happens:) But then a day or two later it made it's way outside again, and into the hands of a frustrated grandma. Then Ethan started to have a tantrum, and the broom was right there, and grandma swatted him with it. The handle bent at a crazy angle, and Ethan ran in to tell me that grandma "hit him so hard she broke the broom". I died. It was pretty funny. If any of you have met Ethan for any period of time, especially when he isn't on his medication you understand how it can be. I told my mom I would take care of the broom, and when she caught me taking pictures, and them learned it was for a blog post she was NOT too happy. She warned me not to blog about it. But here I am doing it anyway. She might kick me out, and my broom breaking son too. Anyone have an extra room we can stay in for a year or so?...

*** Please know that my mother really doesn't abuse my children, even when they TOTALLY deserve it:)