setting the record straight

Max is a know-it-all. Just like me. He is so much like me, in fact, that it's a little spooky. I had no clue these tendencies where genetic. Things like spouting off random facts, correcting people, getting the last word in, making up answers to questions (and delivering said answer as if it were an indisputable fact). He is not the apple that didn't fall far from the tree, he is the tree. Already.

We put up the Christmas tree while the boys were asleep. The next morning I said "Max, do you like the tree?" He looked at me with impatient eyes and said "that's not a tree mommy, that's a Christmas tree." All day long it's "that's not a truck mommy, that's a dump truck"..."that's not green mommy, that's blue"... "that's not a car mommy, that's a police car"...and so on.

It gets better. While walking past the lady behind the fabric counter at Joann's, he blatantly stated "that's not a witch mommy, that's just a lady." Maybe because they had a large witch by the counter during Halloween? So embarrassing.

The worst offense? A few days ago I had just put the baby down for a nap. As I quietly closed the door, Max came marching towards me, playing his drums as loudly as possible. "MAX!!! What are you..." He quickly cut me off with "I not waking up the baby mommy, i just playing the drums." There is no reasoning with him. He is right. End of story. The fact the I know exactly how he feels does not augment my patience level. Our little family will have to do some stretching to make room for two know-it-alls. Wish us luck.

family picture outtakes

My sister-in-law Sarah stopped by yesterday, so we dragged her to the park to take a few quick pictures. Max did not cooperate. Don't be surprised if you see a shot like this one in our Christmas card this year. And no, your eyes are not fooling you...Max is almost as big as I am.

Here are some candids of the boys. I couldn't get Max to look at the camera.Perhaps Max's bad attitude was a direct result of the fact that earlier that morning I FORCED him, against his will, to sit on Santa's lap at our church Christmas party. I've been prepping him for the santa photo op for months now. I've been reading him Christmas stories and talking up santa's good qualities. Every time he sees a picture of santa, he says "santa's really nice mommy." All my efforts did not pay off, as is evidenced by the picture below.

As we were walking out, I said "Max, you are supposed tell santa what you want for Christmas." He stopped crying, turned to face santa, sniffled twice and said "uh, I want a backhoe loader and some candy". Then we left.

p.s. max has an intense infatuation with backhoe loaders. i barely know what they are and had to reference his truck book to make sure i was buying him the right thing...

thanksgiving

I hosted my first thanksgiving this year. I am told I hosted one before. I vaguely remember nausea and vomiting...pretty sure I blocked the rest out. Did we eat any turkey? Sorry guys. Hopefully I made up for it this year.
I soaked the turkey in a brine before I cooked it (recipe here). I was skeptical, but it turned out very moist. We had a dairy-free dinner (lots o allergies on the scoville side). It wasn't super great, but everyone could eat it. That's what counts, right? I'll work on finding better recipes.
We lounged around, went to the movies, played at the park, chatted, played games, went to see the Mesa temple lights, and ate lots of food. Thanks to my mother-in-law and sisters-in law for all their help. We had a great time. You can check out pics on flickr.

p.s. I had lofty thanksgiving decorating plans (I think I have come down with seasonal decorating disorder), but due to some unexpected events most of them did not come to fruition. I did manage to finish my turkey silhouette...just in the nick of time. Check it out here.

ode to eanie

Ian is a year old. How did this happen? There is no slowing down this growing up process, despite my concerted efforts. He seems to be hastening the process by meeting milestones much faster than Max did. He has a completely different personality than Max, yet shares one important scoville trait: he is a HUGE tease. He balances Max's fears with his fearlessness and is the perfect addition to our family.

One year stats:

height: 31 3/4 inches (93%)
weight: 21 lbs 7 oz (26%)
head: 18 1/4 (47%)

Special skills: Walking, running, talking, climbing, dancing, teasing, taking off poopy diapers, opening child locks, biting, nodding yes and no, and more.

Nicknames (include but are not limited to): eanie, baby, "E", baby "E", eanie bean, beanie wean, beanie, bubba chubs, E.B., bambino chino, gubs, chubs,

Interests:

playing with Max

taking a bath with max

unloading the dishwasher

riding his truck

His first word(s): "whats that?" (same as max, i suppose curiosity is in our blood...). He also loves to push his cars and say "vroom...vroom". Other words he has used (not with phonetic perfection, but definitely audible) are "yeah", "ma-ma", "ball", "bath", "book", "this", "what's this?". A few weeks ago I looked at him and said "Eanie, do you want a banana?" "Yeah", he quickly replied while nodding his head up and down. He's basically a genius. Takes after his mom.

frustration

It's amazing how polarized our nation is becoming. Maybe it has always been this way and I'm just starting to pay attention. Who knows. This is getting out of control. Interesting that foxnews.com is the only site that has posted the story. CBS, on the other hand, is giving the prop 8 opposition free advertising with this article. The bias in the mainstream media is sickening. I don't understand how the prop 8 opposition can demand "tolerance" when they obviously have zero tolerance for the opposing viewpoint and no respect for the democratic process. After reading about all the vandalism, fires, attacks, boycotts, vulgarity, etc. I find it extremely ironic that they accuse us of hate.

What kind of world will my children grow up in? What happened to good old-fashioned family values? Scares me to death. I wish I could turn back time.

keep calm and carry on

I recently purchased this World War II reproduction poster. It is hanging on my wall as a reminder to 'keep calm and carry on'... it's my new motto.

When Max

draws an eyeliner mural on my bedroom door...
dumps out two boxes of cereal in 5 seconds flat...
takes a blue marker to the chair i reupholstered (in dry-clean-only fabric)
slams Ian's hand/head/foot in the door...
takes off his diaper and pees on me...
rips out my garden plants...
dumps soup on his head...
rips all the pages out of his books...
climbs up the pantry and dumps the honey out...

I take a deep breath and glance at my poster. Words are powerful. I think every mother of a two-year-old boy should have this poster hanging in their house. I'm telling you, it helps. I wish I could channel all of Max's spontaneity and creativity in a constructive (and not destructive) way.

In addition to documenting his naughtiness, I also wanted to jot down a few funny things he has said lately:

"I'll mow the lawn mommy...someday, somehow." (as he was pushing his toy mower)
"Watch out dude!" (when a truck almost his us the other day)
"Take care!" (as I was saying goodbye to a former student that checked us out at Old Navy)
"The garbage truck comes Wednesday and Saturday mommy, NOT Thursday." (this is only funny because he says it every 1.5 minutes...just in case I forget. It's amazing that he has learned the days of the week just so he can figure out when the garbage truck will come.)

policital unrest

I thought that after the elections were over I would be able to relax. I thought the election hoopla would end. I thought the vandalism would end. We would accept the will of the people, put our differences aside, and move forward. Simple as that. That's what I was planning to do.

I didn't see the backlash coming. At all.

Now that it is in full force, I can't seem to pull myself away from the news coverage. I need to check myself into news junkie rehab. Seriously, I go to bed WAY too late. After hearing lots of horrible things, it's refreshing to read things like this. This was also interesting. The worst that has happened (that i know of) in our neighborhood is someone setting fire to the dumpster next to our chapel during church. I am regretting not pulling Max out of nursery to see the fire truck. He would have loved it.

Mitt Romney 2012 anyone?

p.s. the church's official statement is here

Prop 102 passed!

I was scared to death to go hold my sign yesterday. I was sure I would be egged, punched, harassed, or that my vehicle would be vandalized. You see, that's what these "seekers of tolerance" are doing to the supporters of prop 8 and 102. I decided to take Ian with me. I figured nobody would hurt a woman with a baby. I was right. We survived unscathed.

Why am I putting myself in the face of such heated opposition? Is it because I hate gays? Is it because I have nothing else to do and want to go have people yell at me? No. Not at all. I am fighting for the right to practice my religion. I am fighting for the rights of my children and unborn children to do the same. I am asking for my religious views to be tolerated. We do not oppose same-sex couples having similar rights to married couples. We oppose the legal redefinition of the spiritual and sacred term of marriage. We oppose judges who would tell us to redefine marriage and include homosexual marriage into our religious practice. We oppose judges who would force public school teachers to include homosexuality into the curriculum, or force anyone to condone homosexuality against their will.

This country was founded "under God" by wise, deeply religious people seeking religious liberty. The first amendment of the constitution "prohibits the United States Congress from making laws that prohibit the free exercise of religion". The United states is a very religious country (about 80 % Christian, with only 15% of the population in the no religion/atheist/agnostic category). Proposition 8 and 102 have nothing to do with intolerance or discrimination. Legalizing same-sex marriage infringes upon the religious liberties of the majority(don't believe me, read this). Changing the laws to favor a very small minority, and subsequently taking away the rights of a very large majority makes no sense at all.

My religious convictions run very deep. My religion provides purpose and direction in my life. As a result of living by its tenets, I am blissfully happy. My only hope is that all citizens would have the liberty to pursue a belief system that makes them equally as happy.

Oh, and I would like to publicly thank Barack Obama for helping prop 8 to pass in California. He inspired record African American turnout at the polls, and they (7 out of 10) voted yes on prop 8 in California.

p.s. here is a video that shows how "tolerant" the opposition has been...most of the violence has not been publicized. you would not believe some of the things that have happened.

Proposition 102

J-P and I are ardent supporters of proposition 102 (and prop. 8 in CA). J-P has spent a night in the call center and I will be at an undisclosed polling location tomorrow holding my "Yes on 102" sign.

PLEASE JOIN US IN VOTING YES ON 102.

There are many misconceptions about proposition 102 and 8. For clarification, please visit preservingmarriage.org and watch the videos. I'm serious. Do it. Right now. When you are finished read this article. It's long, but explains exactly how we feel.

p.s. for the Orson Scott Card fans, here is another article...

trunk-or-treat

Coming up with a costume for Max was difficult because he is scared of, well, everything. These are the rules I made for his costume: 1. something happy (not scary) 2. something he could recognize or relate to, and 3. something homemade. I drew inspiration from his all-time favorite book series. Only a couple people at our church trunk-or-treat were able to figure it out.
I thought about making Ian's costume, but I knew the sweat shops in China could do a much better, more cost effective job. The $15 I paid at Old Navy wouldn't have even covered the supplies. Can you tell who they are supposed to be?
At the last minute I was feeling guilty for not dressing up. About 15 minutes before we left I fashioned myself a halloween shirt by cutting out a crow and ironing it on a black t-shirt. Next year I'll dress up. Maybe.

Happy Halloween!

p.s. now that my little family is old enough to celebrate halloween i have been racking my brain trying to come up with some fun halloween traditions. i'm stumped. what are some fun things your family does for halloween?

halloween

I have never decorated for halloween. Not once. Then I turned 30 (ouch!). I lost my mind. I went overboard. I turned my house into a halloween shrine. My children love it. My husband just rolls his eyes. Then he says "you're gonna take this all down when halloween is over, right?" He seems genuinely worried. Maybe he should be. I could be going senile at this ripe old age.

This all started when J-P abandoned us. While he was studying at Duke for 8 miserably long days, I was passing the time (you know, because I had SO much extra time as a single mom) making halloween decorations. Creating lollipop ghosts and scary silhouettes proved to be very therapeutic. Who knew.Here is a (not so) scary crow garland I made. Below are some fabulous velvet pumpkins (with real stems!) that my friend Kim made for my birthday/halloween. I love them. Thank you, they go perfectly in the halloween explosion that is my house and will most definitely be hanging around through thanksgiving.p.s. you can check out more pics on flickr.

Orson Scott Card

I didn't know Orson Scott Card was born in Richland, WA...and I didn't know he is a democrat. I do know that J-P loves him almost as much as Louis L'amour. Here is an interesting article he wrote. Thanks for posting it Whitney.

zoologico

Yesterday we took a trip to the zoo to see if Max is still scared of goats. We can safely upgrade his condition from scared to terrified. Perhaps petrified...maybe immobilized? A friendly zookeeper tried to help him pet a sleeping goat and he lost it. Worse than Disneyland. Worse than he ever has. We might be taking him to therapy for post-traumatic stress.

We treated the tears with some splashing in the water park. Both boys had a blast. Ian has no fear. Max has (more than?) a healthy amount. When Max woke up this morning he rubbed his eyes and said "mommy...(yawn) max a scared a goats." Poor boy probably had nightmares.

sunday in pictures

I can't keep my boys out of the fridge. Or the the pantry. You can see Max pouting on the floor after I pulled him out. No smiles in these pics as both boys were OVERDUE for naps. Ian is finally walking (of his own free will). He has been a bridge-the-gap walker for a few weeks, walking only when there are no walls or furniture to hold on to. Now he is letting go and venturing into wide open spaces. Brave boy. It's a rough world out there.

messes by max

Max's morning schedule:

8:00 a.m.-making floor art with barley (while mom feeds the baby).
8:05 a.m.- drawing all over the walls with a ball point pen (while mom sweeps up the barley).
8:10 a.m.- dumping out tortilla chips and dancing on them until they are sufficiently crumbled (while mom changes the baby's diaper).
8:15 a.m.- getting strapped in the car by a frustrated mom to go to the store (because if he manages to make a mess at the store they have to clean it up, not me).

The afternoon went better. Max played in his sandbox while the baby napped and mom watered the garden. Unfortunately Ian is down to one nap a day, and it does not overlap with Max's nap. This gives me no time to plan my black and white halloween party, make costumes, or mail halloween cards to Max's four grandmas. I have made it a tradition to mail cards with photos to the grandmas (who all live far away) every holiday. I usually buy them (from the dollar bin at Target), but decided to make them this time around. More evidence of my black and white obsession, I suppose.

shoplifting

The first time I shoplifted I was in the 7th grade. I was at the mall with my friends, and we were chatting and perusing the jewelry at Claire's Boutique. We left and headed to The Bon Marche (now macy's). I reached out to inspect a shirt and noticed I still had a bracelet from Claire's on my wrist. I almost threw up. My larger-than-life conscience propelled me (in a sweating tizzy) back to Claire's where I discreetly restored the bracelet to its spot on the rack.

Now Max and I shoplift on a regular basis. Max gets his shoplifting gene from his father (sorry to out you honey), who, as a child, spent time in jail for stealing candy from the local convenience store (it was a small town). Max always manages to grab things off the shelf and hide them until we get to the car. Last summer I made several trips back into walmart after finding not-paid-for goods on Max's person. For some reason I never discovered the booty until after I had already loaded the groceries into the sweltering car. Pregnant and sweating up a storm, I jogged back inside each time with Max on my hip. "Do you have a return?", the greeter would routinely ask. I loved to see the shock on their face when I replied "no, we stole this..." as I rushed past them to pay for the bar of soap or bag of chocolate chips that Max managed to make off with.

Today Max shoplifted a foam owl visor from Joann's. I let him wear it around the store because it kept him quiet. He wore it right through the check-out, without the cashier noticing the big Joann's tag hanging off the side. I made it almost all the way to the car before I realized our crime and rushed back in to fork over $1.09 including tax.

creative outlet

Cooking has always been my creative outlet. I stayed in the cooking dorms my freshman year of college because I knew cooking my own meals would provide much needed satisfaction and stress relief. It did. All through college I dreamed of dropping out and going to culinary arts school. I also started a ridiculously large collection of cookbooks.

My life changed dramatically a little more than a year ago. Allergy tests confirmed that Max is allergic to wheat, dairy, eggs, and nuts. I threw my beloved peanut butter away. I learned VERY quickly that it is impossible to cook without wheat, dairy, and eggs. Impossible, that is, to cook anything that tastes good. I no longer cook for enjoyment. I cook for survival.

Now that my cookbooks are collecting dust in their permanently closed position, I have been in search of a new creative outlet. I am not crafty. I don't scrapbook. I don't have time to take a photography class. I do, however, have a new sewing machine. I finally pulled it out today. I decided to start making Christmas ornaments. I plan on adorning my tree in soft, child-friendly ornaments for the next few holiday seasons so as to minimize my holiday stress level. My first attempt: matryoshka dolls. I made them out of a toddler dress I found at a thrift store (that makes them cheap and environmentally friendly, right?). Next on the agenda: owls.

weekend pics

It went from summer to winter overnight. Our house got down to 74 degrees last night and I almost froze to death. I woke up shivering. It's amazing that we go from sweating through the night in an 80+ degree house to breaking out the down comforter in one day. It almost feels scandalous, like someone robbed us of our warm weather.

While most people are raking fall leaves, we are power raking (pulverizing?) our grass so that we can plant winter grass. One of the things I love about Arizona is being able to look at green grass year round. Although ours isn't always that green (I've vetoed J-P's attempts to fertilize...if they use it to make bombs, it's probably not healthy for my grass-eating lads).
Max decided he wanted to help rake the grass. He kept saying things like "Max a rake a grass, daddy...there, all nice and clean daddy...Max a rake a grass, just like daddy." Ian got his first taste of dirt. He didn't like it.

disneylandia

I've been dreaming about taking Max to Disneyland since the day I found out he was growing inside of me. I visited the magic kingdom every year during my childhood, and it filled me with uncontainable excitement . For me, it truly was the happiest place on earth.

For Max...not so much. He cried about a gallon of tears. He was terrified of all of the characters and most of the rides. He tugged on us the whole day and said things like "how about a go home now...", "mommy, turn the light on!!" (during dark rides), "Max a scared, mommy."

Ian loved it and didn't stop pointing, yelling, and dancing the whole day. Watching him go crazy in the Tiki room made the whole trip worthwhile. Hopefully his enthusiasm will rub off on the firstborn.

We had a fantastic time catching up with friends, cousins, and watching general conference with Nona. Ian watched it a little too close. He LOVES TV. Max is in love with Nona (his great grandma), and hasn't stopped talking about her since we got home. His new favorite phrase (blurted out at random throughout the day): "How about go a Nona's house?" I respond with: "We'll go to Nona's house another day." "Uh, how about go a Nona's house another day, mommy?", he continues...and then changes the subject to the whereabouts of the garbage truck.

sunday

This afternoon J-P held the sleeping babe while he read his favorite Louis L'amour book for the 87th time. Every time I ask J-P what he wants for Christmas, birthday, father's day...his reply is always the same: a Louis L'amour book. I don't understand his addiction, but I'm grateful that it's cheap paperback books and not video games.
Tonight J-P read story after story to the pajama-clad boys while I made pumpkin cookies. I make pumpkin cookies at least twice a week in the fall, just to make sure we get our fair share of vitamin A. I blame my pumpkin cookie addiction on my sister-in-law Amie, who shared this recipe with me a couple years ago.
Also, I would like to publicly thank all the dads of mormondom who babysat last night so we women could partake of some much needed spiritual enlightenment. My heart is full and I am bursting at the seams. I can't even express how much I loved Elder Uchtdorf's talk. If you missed the broadcast you MUST hear this talk. I will link to the transcript when available, in the mean time go here to listen to/watch his talk.

lentil soup and potty training

Here are the haps today at chez scoville...

The activities: endless reading of curious george, chasing the baby, building towers, racing trucks, potty training (revisited), and breaking up fights. There is no sharing on max's agenda.

The menu: Lentil soup, homemade whole-wheat bread, peaches, and strawberries. Lentils are my favorite legume and a whole blog post should be dedicated to them. I'll have to do that later.

The arrival: A new sewing machine. An accidental ebay purchase. Yikes. Happy early birthday to me, I guess. I suppose I deserve something special, the big 3-0 is looming around the corner.

The milestones: Ian started pointing and repeating a few sounds. "Mmmmm" as I am feeding him. "Uh dah (what's that)" when he points to something. "Ma-ma-ma-ma" when I prompt him. Melts my heart every time.

morning light

I am not a morning person. When 5 a.m. rolls around, I am paralyzed by a combination of low blood sugar and lack of sleep. I try to pry my eyes open when Ian starts crying, but I swear they are glued shut.

Enter amazing husband. I nudge (sometimes shake, kick, push...he's a deep sleeper) J-P and he pops out of bed to rescue our early riser from his crib. They watch the sun come up together everyday. Good thing he is a morning person.
I take over bath and bedtime duties because J-P starts slowing down around 7 p.m. After our story-song-prayer ritual, I put Max into his crib. As I'm putting him in, I say "Max, I love you sooooo much." To which he responds (every night) "I love daddy sooooo much!" I'm starting to wonder if J-P is bribing him with candy in the morning while I'm sleeping. One of these days I'll have to get up to see what they do with J-P in the morning that has them both wrapped (as tight as can be) around his finger.

salmon cakes

When Max wakes up in the morning, he rubs his eyes, yawns, and says "how about have salmon cakes for din din mommy?" Salmon cakes are always on his mind. He brings them up throughout the day at random, but when 4:00 p.m. rolls around he starts chanting "SALMON CAKES...SALMON CAKES...I WAAAAANT SALMON CAKES." Everyday. Without fail.

I give in and make them at least 3 times a week. Luckily for us, salmon has not been placed on the do-not-eat-because-of-mercury list. I'm really missing tuna. And sushi. Anyway, I don't use a recipe. Partly because Max has a strict diet, but also because I haven't found one I like. This is what I usually put in them:

14 (or so)oz can of Red Salmon (pink salmon is "garbage" according to my father, who said that it sits on the dock all day to rot while they rush to can the red salmon)
a few mashed red potatoes (I usually microwave them)
one small zucchini, grated
a small finely diced onion (white, yellow, green..whatever)
a couple cloves of garlic (pressed)
1/2 red pepper, diced
2 egg yolks (max is allergic to the whites, whole eggs work better)
1 tsp lemon juice (maybe more? i don't measure)
1 tsp soy sauce
a few shakes of seasoning salt
fresh parsley (i rarely have this on hand)

Mix well and form into patties. You can add flour (or something to help it stick together) if you want. Roll patties in bread crumbs (or not), and fry on each side in a little bit of olive oil until browned. Here is another family's version. There is no wrong way to do it.

p.s. i separate the bones, skin, and gunk...but they say it's healthy to keep it in, more calcium and omega 3's.

p.s.s. the salad we had with it the other night was just a mixture of fresh corn (grilled is best), diced tomatoes, diced cucumber, and black beans (rinsed) tossed with a little olive oil, lime juice and lot's of fresh,chopped cilantro. and salt.

swinging

...So, I was told that babies who are exclusively breastfed don't get ear infections. Ever. It's against the rules. A mother's milk is magic ear infection prevention potion. Magic, I tell you. And, for me, it has worked like magic. No ear infections at Chez Scoville. No ear infections, that is, until today.

The doctor was quite surprised to hear that I've never had to deal with ear infections. "It's because you breastfeed," he said. Hello, I am STILL breastfeeding. I feed the baby all day, every day, and never give any formula in LARGE part because I don't want to join the ear infection club.

Despite my efforts, Ian has a horrible double ear infection. I swallowed my pride and filled his antibiotic prescription. About 10 minutes after we gave it to him, J-P yelled (in all seriousness) "you better come over here, I think Ian is high." He was laughing, dancing, squealing, bouncing, clapping...so much so that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. We are worried they may have given us the wrong stuff. Is amoxicillin pink? Does it make your children crazy? Now that I am an official (and humble) member of the ear infection club, I would also welcome any and all advice.

picnic in the park

Yesterday it cooled off to 90 degrees. I almost got goosebumps. To celebrate the arrival of cooler weather we packed up the family to spend the evening in the park.
the menu: salmon cakes, fresh corn/tomato/black bean salad, and pears
the activity: feeding (chasing?) ducks, relaxing, playing on the toys
J-P finished his first round of finals over the weekend (including a brutal 13-hour-long accounting final) so we will be spending as much time as possible relaxing at the park before he has to disappear into the depths of his office again.

9.11 and the haboob

I'll never forget where I was on this day seven years ago. I had just started my first teaching job. I was working at my desk before school started, when one of my students walked into my classroom and said "Miss McDonald, someone just told me that a plane crashed into the world trade center, and another one crashed into the pentagon."

She looked scared. I laughed and said "don't worry honey, that's not true..." Thirty seconds later a boy came running in and said "Miss McDonald, what's the pentagon?" Before I could answer I heard the principal blaring over the intercom, reminding us to check our email about Wednesday's faculty meeting. We didn't have faculty meetings on Wednesdays. This was a code for "there is an emergency, check your email immediately." We were instructed not to turn on our TV's or talk about the situation, but to continue on with our day as we normally would. Ha! Like that happened. I spent the day calming fears, sending overly emotional students to the counseling office, and explaining over and over what the pentagon is. I'll never forget it.

Today as I drove out of our neighborhood I saw the flag-lined street and it brought me to tears. The one good thing about that horrible tragedy is that it brought out the best of human nature. It proved that, as humans, we are innately good. We have a natural inclination to help others in time of need.
p.s. On the way to get the mail I tried to stop and take a picture of the flags but right as I grabbed the camera a haboob (60-mile-wide wall of dust) hit. You can't really see the flags. I threw the camera in the stroller and sprinted home with my eyes closed. Sometimes I feel like I live in saudi arabia.