And while we're at it

Let's throw a themed party for Landon. Why not?

His choice? Cowboys.

I thought that nothing would be as easy or as fun as clowns, but cowboys had its own rustic appeal.

Half of the fun was in making the invitations. (And yes, I love the internet for providing me with all sorts of good ideas - thank you, internet folk.)

WANTED

For the high crime of turning 5

Callin’ all cowpokes! Don yer best cowboy duds and head on over to the ranch to celebrate Landon’s 5^th birthday!

Date, Time, Place

Just have yer momma give us a holler: Sarah's cell

Well, this party wasn't being co-planned by a very list-oriented 7-year old. And it was also set for the day before Easter Sunday. And our kitchen was under construction all week leading up to the party, as well as our bathrooms (nothing like having workmen in the house to make you feel a little off kilter). And, it was our turn to clean the church that morning. For real.

So, let's just say that this party got a little less attention, but turned out great anyway. I went with the copy and paste format of Liza's party, and we were good!

Paper bags were the 11th hour revelation as I tried to think of ways to make the house a bit more country

And I had scraps of fabric leftover from a quilting project.  I taped (yes, taped) them together for a last-minute table runner (and tied the extras in random places throughout the house). I had also bought cowboy hats for any kids who needed to dress up, but they made great decorations from our chandelier!

  We played pin the badge on the sheriff, musical chairs, rattlesnake jump, and...  (Frankly, I don't remember what else!) I had done the stock show party for Landon's pre-school with another mom a few months earlier, so I just pulled up some of my same ideas. With this party we also asked the kids to wear cowboy attire, and they looked so cute!

Landon with a couple of his friends. The boy on the left had a full on DUSTER. He was so cool!

Option B

Bedtime. It's when I've nearly run out of steam, and yet my best tactics are still needed. Kids run amuck, often away from the direction of the bed, and a willing adult is very useful. I could be up, about, and marshaling the troops. I could be moving things along - smoothly, efficiently. I could be getting them in bed -much quicker, perhaps.

Instead, I hang out on the landing, play with Beckham, and direct L&L traffic from my spot on the floor.

And I often take pictures (see? I'm doing something useful!).

Further evidence that I'm not the only one having trouble staying on track...rest assured that Liza is not hamming it up for me or my camera. That is her nightly playing-with-Beckham-while-trying-to-brush-teeth routine

But really- what better way is there to spend my least favorite time of the day? (True, I can think of many ways I'd rather spend my evening: date night - out with Tyler - let the babysitter do the routine; or, in a huge bubble bath - with a book; or, out with friends  - wallyball, shopping, custard run, you fill in the blank. So let's say, of all the options where I am physically present, I like the picture taking option myself.)

if only this was taken with a real camera and not the camera phone - does it get much cuter than this?

okay, well this does

Finally, the laugh of the night played out as follows:

Me: Liza, are you going to brush your hair before you go to bed?

Liza (with a heavy sigh, and a slump of the shoulders): I have so many things to do in my life

Woody

We've had a bit of a Toy Story obsession lately. 

It's even involved finding Landon sprawled on the floor, legs askew, a half smile on the lips, and eyes staring blankly into space. . . completely still. 

Call Me Cutesy

But you really already know that I'm not.

Except if it's related to that calling called Primary chorister and it's a desperate attempt to keep children engaged.

Or if we're coming up with clever poems on long road trips.

Ok, well sometimes I'm cutesy. 

So, I guess I shouldn't judge those moms who kinda seem like super moms. You know the kind, right? Their kids have tidy hair, shirts that match their shorts (shoes on their feet even!), and they throw themed birthday parties. I wonder what kind of time it takes to do what they do. And what they're skipping that I'm already doing to fit it all in. Is it sleep? Do they sleep less? In the end, that's how I rolled a bunch of ice cream cones in melted Wilton candy something to decorate "clown hats" for the party - I slept less. One time good deal. But I digress...

The thing is, in our home, we only officially throw birthday parties for the kids every 2 years. On the in between year they get to invite a friend for dinner. So this year, the big party was on. And Liza wanted a "clown" party. She started making guest lists and writing personal invitations during a snow day in December (for her February birthday). Before I knew it, we were all caught up in her excitement, and I was throwing a themed birthday party.

Pin the nose on the clown  - made during another snow day while we sat around

Clown cupcakes- ice cream cone for the hat, licorice rope for the hair, chocolate chip eyes and a skittle nose

Face painting for all of the kids when they arrived

And of course - circus treats

Such a hit...

I covered the buffet table with polka dot wrapping paper, and had the treats all set up for them to eat throughout the party. I filled a vase full of red vines, and it was the favorite treat (and the one thing that nobody was allergic to - hurrah!). Hence, the picture of the empty bag.

One friend kind of teased me for the "big plans" she'd heard about for the party (i.e. musical chairs, pin the tail, etc.). I felt more than redeemed when her daughter declared this birthday party her "favorite party ever!" Take that Monkey Bizness.

Anyway, the last little tip that I thought I'd share, in the event that you find yourself throwing a clown party, is the game my mother invented. The clown shoe race. Have the children put on my flats (any shoes of mine will do since my feet are so big. In your home, it might have to be dad's shoes), and have them race across the room, trying to keep their shoes on. Pretty funny stuff.

On her invites, Liza asked the girls to come dressed as clowns. Hence, the funky, mismatched attire

So, throw in a pinata, bags to collect all of their treasures, and you have a hit party.

Liza was thrilled. And it turned out to be fun to do, though it still made me glad that we aren't doing it all the time. 

In other news...

Apparently I should stop blogging in my head and blog more online. That way anyone I may blog about (ahem...) aren't the focus of the blog, just one of many subjects that go through my brain. 

But, since I continue my pattern of sporadic blogging, here you go:

The kids are kinda disappointed that Santa did NOT deliver this year.
Say what?
He didn't?
Well, he did deliver the coveted Pillow Pet. And he did deliver a new crane for Landon's train set and the Hello Kitty alarm clock that Liza wished for (last year).

But he did NOT deliver another baby.

In case you're not up on this delivery fail, and why Santa might be involved (well, some of you know why he might be involved-but just stick with me), I will tell you. Last year, Landon asked for a baby for Christmas. "A real one. A boy - and we can name him Thomas. Like the train - and that other boy - Thomas Monson."
So, Santa told the kids that a baby was on the way.
And he was a boy.
And we did not name him Thomas. (Thomas Twiss - come on!).
 And apparently, this new baby is so much fun for the kids, that they want another one.

So, for the last month or so, the kids have been on a big campaign for another baby. A girl this time. And Liza thought, that if she came by Christmas, we could name her Holly (ooh - how I appreciate the children's help in naming babies). And you know what? They didn't get their wish. Go fish!

End of story, right? I should've known better than that. 

Tonight at dinner, Liza and I had an interesting conversation that went something like this:
Liza: Mom, how do you know if you're going to have a baby besides if Santa tells you?
Me: Ummmm - you go to the doctor and they do a test, and then you know.
Tyler: And you start to feel funny  - so you go to the doctor.
Me: Yeah, and like when you're sick, you get really, really tired. And sleep a lot. So you know something is different.
Liza: (casting a significant look at my tummy - full of dinner, Sees chocolates, peanuts, and whatever other food was available while I cooked ruined dinner) Mom, you take A LOT of naps.
Me (feigning casualness): No I don't. I just take one nap a day. 
Liza: you take lots of naps
Tyler: Yeah - Mommy sleeps a lot (thanks for throwing me under the bus there, Twiss)
Me: Liza, there's no baby in my belly. Trust me.

Which brings me to my final point: Just because the only person in this house who takes more naps than me is a 5-month old, it is very weak evidence of anything except the fact that I love naptime. And every time I hear of other moms who skip naptime, I'm slightly appalled. Seriously. You just go go go for like 14 -16 hours? Come on folks. Go read Brain Rules and get back with me. 












 

Family Pictures

Both of my brothers live in Utah. They married sisters, actually. [Okay, I know that begs for a side note: Growing up, my brothers were not much alike - and apparently neither were these sisters. But we're all older now and do have life in common so it's a fun thing. And, actually, the girls are both incredibly nice and so much fun to hang out with - so they are alike.]

Well, whenever my parents head to Utah, that means my whole family is together - minus me and mine. And I don't think this is a confession of personal issues, but I imagine it as a lot of fun and I wish to be part of the gaggle, as my dad would say. We usually get together every 2 years at Newport Beach. This summer, I was having Beckham the very week we were due for our every-2-year-beach-reunion. So, again - getting us all together was not to be.

BUT! We finally did it.

Believe it or not, the 45 minutes we spent taking pictures was the only time all week when all 17 of us were in the same place. The only time.

We had moments when all the adults were together, or everybody minus one of us, or all the cousins, but there was always somebody missing. Nobody lives right by each other (unlike that lovely time in their lives when the boys and wives lived in the same exact stairwell - well, they didn't live in the stairwell, they lived in an apartment type condo or something and shared a stairwell- but you get my drift). So we also spent a lot of time in the car - 15 hours over those 7 days actually, (not even counting the drive to and from), but it was worth it.
So.
I don't have to pretend anymore about what it's like when the family has gathered in Utah and I'm living my life here. They're busy and having fun. But nobody is sitting around singing kumbayah.
It's a good thing we took a picture.





(This would be a great spot to include said family picture. But, Christmas cards are really just around the corner - so you'll have to wait. Well, that is - if you get Christmas cards from my parents you'll have to wait to see the group shot in your mailbox. If not - wait for me to post the picture later... Patience is a virtue, or so I've been told.)













P.S. These photos where done by Swensen photography, who sold us the rights, so I'm good to post. I finally looked up the name of last year's photographer since a friend asked for a reference, and it's Mark Cafiero. So, for you Denver-ites needing a photo-shoot, there's your recommendation.

P.P.S. After two fall photo-shoots in a row, I am SOOO casting my vote for a spring shoot next ;)

Can't Stop Doing the Monkey (Bars)!

I don't know about your kids - but at least in our neck of the woods, recess is all about the monkey bars. Liza spent most of kindergarten recess doing the monkey bars, and now spends all 3 recesses in first grade doing... well, the same thing.

I've been there to witness it, and it's big business. It's not just about doing the monkey bars, but it's about mastering new ways of doing them. So, skipping one bar is a big deal. The next step is skipping multiple bars. When you can skip all the way across, even better. Not exciting enough? Try going backwards.

Well, one disadvantage of having school every day (as opposed to every other day -in kindergarten it was T/Th - full day, half day Friday) is that your already callused hands take a major beating. So, within the first week of school, Liza came home with a band aid across the palm of her hand. Burst blister. We said she ought to take a break the next day from the monkey bars. What did she do instead? Did them on her fingers.

This should explain why, many band aids later and many, many recesses later, Liza's hands look like this:
It's a proud status symbol for her, those hands, and the sad truth is, I've seen another boy in the class whose hands look just like hers.



On a related, and to me quite funny side note: Last night after Liza's soccer practice, the kids ran over to the playground to get in a few more minutes of running around. I asked another mom from the team, while we stood there and waited, if her daughter was into the monkey bars, too. Her reply, "She's not much of a risk taker. She doesn't like doing things that are dangerous or scary (what?!)..." I proceeded to explain the obsession among Liza and other kids at school. "Liza!" I say, "Come show Ms. __ your hands." The look on this woman's face was priceless. She says, "I would have her stop - just imagine all the germs and infections she could be getting. Staph, disease.... I don't know." I will say, this mother and daughter provided a lot of smiles for me that night. Since it was her daughter that proudly reported after making a goal, that she "got a hole in one!"