Disappointment eve

It's been a tradition in our family that on Christmas Eve, the children open one gift. For the past few years, we have made this gift a new set of pajamas (sometimes Christmas pjs, sometimes not). Owen caught on a couple of years ago and knew what to expect, but Hazel was NOT pleased. I even explained to her beforehand that she would not be opening a toy, but instead it would be something to wear. I guess she thought I was kidding.

She has become quite ungrateful lately....and rude...and sassy. It really isn't funny (most of the time), but I have to say that I laughed out loud at her reaction to the pajamas. I also reprimanded her later and gave her the "be grateful" lecture, but I just had to share. I also think it's especially cute that Owen tried to make her feel better about the whole thing.

After this video, I tried to convince her to put the pajamas on for a picture in front of the tree, but she ran off to her room with another mean grunt. Owen, however, was perfectly cooperative and posed for me...

And then he had the genius idea that he would just hold Hazel's pjs up beside him and maybe it would look like she had posed for the picture.

Then Hazel came out happy as can be in LAST YEAR'S pajamas and posed for a picture. I just took what I could get and thanked them both.

But I guess my guilt trip about her hurting my feelings when I picked those pajamas out for her kinda worked. She finally conceded and I happily claimed victory!!!!

Merry Christmas...and HAPPY BIRTHDAY G-MOMMY!!!!

Conversations

Two of mine and Nathan's conversations tonight (the only ones appropriate for sharing):

(1) Nathan: Do you want a piece of cake?
Me: YES, dangit. I told you twice already! Once out loud and once in my head.

(2) Nathan: (in response to something rude I did) You're such a ho.
Me: What the heck? You don't call your wife a ho!!!
Nathan: If I can't call my wife a ho, who can I?
Me: How about HOS?!?!?!?!

This second conversation was so wrong, I can't even believe I am putting it on here. But alas, this is the true us. And we still make each other laugh.

In the future...

Hazel loves the idea of Lunchables. She begs for them every time we go to the grocery store, then begs to eat them every day. The thing is, she doesn't actually like them. Every once in a while she will be starving and, therefore, manage to eat the whole thing. But 9 times out of 10, she eats the first bite of whatever meat is included in that day's Lunchable and decides that the meat is "disgusting." This inevitably leads to her refusal to take another bite of anything in that little plastic, compartmentalized tray of processed foods.

We are finally over giving her chance after chance to prove to us that she can be a big girl and eat the whole thing. It's just such a waste of money. So Nathan came home today right as I was getting frustrated with Hazel for wasting yet another valuable Lunchable. I was getting a little worked up, so he jumped in and took over the conversation, using his usual sarcastic drama to make fun of my genuine drama.

Nathan: "Hazel, that’s it. You are never getting lunchables again."
Hazel: "That’s fine. I hate them. The meat is disgusting."
Nathan: "You’re not getting any more lunchables and you’re not going to college."
Hazel: "What’s cobbleage?"
Nathan: "Cobbleage is where you are going to be begging me to go when you are 18."
Hazel: "I can go to cobbleage if I want to!"
Nathan: "You can? Well you better work hard then, cause you’re going to have to do it on your own."
Hazel: "But I can’t drive!"
Nathan: "You’ll be able to when you’re that old. But I’m not going to buy you a car either."
Hazel: "Fine. I’ll just steal your car."
Nathan: "Well, you are your mother’s child, so that wouldn’t surprise me."

Clarification

I am laughing SOOO hard that you all think Owen's team is actually called "The Misfits." It's totally my fault for not clarifying- that is just what I have dubbed them. The actual team name is The Cardinals. :) So- a little less sad than you all originally thought. Sorry to disappoint.

Soccer Misfits

Just a few pics of Owen's soccer team this year, now that Saturday is his last game. We aren't participating in this league next year. I have finally figured out that all the men who want their kids to be awesome soccer players teach them from birth, then volunteer to be a coach for this league, then pick all their friends' kids to be on their team. This results in Owen (who's mom and dad don't know any of the futbol wonders) ending up on the loser team. Once again, his team has lost every single game. They are just like this little leftover group of misfits. Last year he didn't mind, but this year I think it has really had an effect on him. He says things like, "Not this team again!" and "We suck!" and "I definitely need to practice soccer more." Poor kid. It's definitely not doing his self-esteem any favors.

This is our friend/neighbor that joined his team last minute, Anthony

Posing for team photos

The misfits

The huddle

"Good game, good game."

Just FYI- this last picture is the perfect example of what I'm talking about. I think they scored about 25 goals to our zero. And the coach's son was like a little miniature Beckham- I mean this kid was performing miracles. I started cheering for him halfway through the game, the little brat. And, of course, Owen's team will play this team again on Saturday for their last game. No better way to end the season than with a huge arse-kicking, right?

And the magic number is....

FOUR!!!

Four years old, fourth visit to the emergency room, and four stitches.

That's right- our precious little clutzo is at it again. Actually, I guess I can't blame it all on her clumsiness. The chances of injury were slightly increased while playing a game of tickle tag in a dining room with tile floors. Hazel slipped while reaching for a leg to tickle and split her eyelid open on the edge of the dining room chair. To make matters worse, I was 30 minutes away at a baby shower. My friend, Tupou, was babysitting and called me in a panic. I could hear Hazel screaming in the background so I was like "She sounds conscious. No worries!" but I don't think that calmed him at all.

I came home and checked out the wound and decided it needed medical attention. It was about 4:30 on a Saturday and every urgent care place was closed. Isn't that incredible?!?! I was pretty upset. A trip to the emergency room means a $100 copay. At this point, I started doubting the severity of the injury. I called a friend to see if her husband (a surgical resident) could look at it and tell me if I needed to spend the next four to five hours sitting in the virus-infested emergency room, but he wasn't around. At this point, I am starting to get myself worked up, thinking "If I spend the time and money for an emergency room visit, this sucker better need some stitches." I know- mom of the year, right?

Anyway, long story short, it definitely needed stitches. Tupou and Shannon ended up driving us to the ER, sitting in the waiting room with Owen for FOUR HOURS and buying the kids McDonald's. I tried reeeeaaaaaally hard to convince Tupou that I didn't blame him, but I found out later that Hazel had said to him (while sobbing) "I don't want you to babysit me again." Poor guy! I'm sure she broke his heart....and apparently made him feel so guilty that he felt the need to spend the rest of the night trying to make up for it.

Here's her wound. Once again, I only had my cell phone and some glamorous flourescent lighting, so it will be hard to tell much from these pictures.

This is the picture that she colored for Tupou. She literally spent about an hour on it, trying to stay in the lines and make it perfect. I think she started to think about what she had said to him, and she felt bad. She ADORES this guy, so she wanted to let him know that she had been a little too hasty in saying that he was no longer allowed to babysit her.

After coloring the picture, she told me to write him a note on the back and began to ramble. She actually said A LOT more than this, but I wrote down the points that I thought were important. It was SO cute. She obviously wanted to "take back" what she said and made me read this back to her after I wrote it so she could approve my transcribing skills. Then she said "Now draw a heart so he knows I love him."

Here's the note:

"I love you. I don't want to play hide-n-go-seek again because I got hurt today. I really want you to come over to babysit me one more time, but I want Owen to not get hurt like me, cause I don't want to go to the hospital with him and have to wait. I want Owen to feel happy. I want to play duck-duck-goose instead. Love, Hazel"

Here she is waiting for the doctor- she has an anesthetic swab taped to her wound.

And here are her four stitches. I can't believe how good and brave she was. She definitely cried, but let's be honest. Who WOULDN'T cry while watching a fishook come at their eye over and over? I had a hard time watching the actual process. It's weird how I can handle blood and guts-I'm pretty sure I could even stick my whole hand into a gaping wound to stop the bleeding if I had to- as long as it's not my child. All it takes is a tiny little cut like this on one of my babies to make my stomach turn.

But, all is well, and she is pretty proud of her strings in her eye, although she is constantly worried that they are coming out. She's such a precious little clutz, isn't she?

Trick or Treat, Smell my feet....

Speaking of feet, I have to share a Hazelism. I was putting her to bed the other night and she said "Let me smell your feet."
I don't think I have ever blogged about that girl's obsession with smelling EVERYTHING! She loves when things smell good, but I kind of think she is even more satisfied sniffing something stinky (that was a fantastic alliteration, if I do say so myself).

So, anyway...
"Let me smell your feet."
"NO, Hazel! That's gross!"
(whiny voice) "Yeeeeesssss!"
(exasperated sigh) "Here. Smell my cheek instead."
(angry) "NO! That smells good! I want to smell your stinky feet!"
followed by a screaming tantrum when I wouldn't comply.

WHAT A WEIRDO, RIGHT?!

Alright- back to my original reason for posting.

Tuesday night, Owen had his first choir concert at school.

( disclaimer: My camera takes great pictures in most situations, but apparently flourescent cafeteria lighting is not our friend. If I use the flash, everything goes black...if I don't, it's just one big blur. So frustrating. )

Owen was SO stinking precious. He is so much like me on a stage. He is SUCH a performer every other day of the week, but put him on a stage and he kinda freezes. All the kids around him were doing exaggerated hand motions, but Owen kept his hands down by his side and just kind of halfway did the motions. He kept looking around at the kids next to him and giggling. He told us later that he was embarassed the whole time.


He even had a little speaking part. He says "We are learning to read rythms in music class. This rhyme shows we know about quarter notes and eighth notes. We call them ta and tee-tee."

Look (in the video) at how many kids are in the 2nd grade at his school. It's crazy big. I'm so in love with his school, but I'm starting to stress about how big it's getting. It's only K-4 and there are over 900 students!

Tonight we had our pre-Halloween events. First, we went to Owen's school carnival (rip-off) and then we went to the church trunk-or-treat.

Cutest kitty EVER (even though you can't really see her ears or her tail in these pics)

Owen was some character called "Thing" He always wants to get these superhero-type costumes and then won't even wear the mask.

My precious friend Shannon. I love her.

Shannon and Tupou's trunk

Hazel and Alex


It's kind of been a long exhausting day, and I have to get up and go to a soccer game in the morning. Soooo....why am I blogging at midnight?

Mraz Mania

I can't believe it has taken me so long to post about my Jason experience. I have no idea why, but blogger has not been letting me upload videos lately. I let one sit and "process" for TWO DAYS and it never uploaded. I'm so sad!!! I wish you could see why I love Jason Mraz so much. I'm so thankful that Paige introduced us years ago. He is just so talented. I love his voice (which sounds amazing live!), his lyrics seriously move me, he has such a sense of humor with his music, and he is such a happy, funny, engaging performer. I love him.

I convinced two friends to come watch me swoon over Jason Mraz when he came to Tempe. I didn't think I could be more in love with him, but the way he sways his hips and caresses his guitar....holy cow. Sexy.

Anyway- it was a three day music festival with a LOT of performers. Friday night was apparently for the old folks...the line-up was as follows:



Colbie Caillat
Gavin Rossdale
THE B-52s!!! (WHAT THE CRAP!?!)
Jason Mraz
Rob Thomas



So, yeah....we were obviously only there for Jason (although it was a fun flashback to hear Gavin performing some old school Bush). We arrived in the middle of Gavin Rossdale's performance, ate some food, found a spot to set up camp, and decided to sit and relax (and conserve our energy) throughout the very trippy, very annoying B-52s performance. Here's what I stared at the whole time they were on stage:





Why was she even standing up? She was like 15! I know she wasn't into the B-52s! Which brings me to another question...why was she even there?!?


We didn't think there was any reason for us to bring our I.D.s since we don't drink alcohol, but when we arrived we realized that they had completely split the crowd. One whole side was alcoholic and the other side was teenagers, old conservatives, and us. Our crowd was booooring. Although there were a couple of bedazzled and sequined weirdos jammin to Love Shack.


Then, of course, as we were trying to move up for Jason's set, we somehow got stuck behind the tallest person there (who also happened to have a stinky gas issue).



I finally crowded him enough that he got the message and moved over. My nose was thankful.



Me, Melissa, and Shannon





Jason on the jumbotron:

Future Models?

A friedn of mine convinced me to enter my kids in the GAP casting call (he really loves Owen and Hazel and thinks way too highly of them....lol). I know there are so many beautiful kids in there, and they are usually ethnic....BUT....I think my kids are cute and I guess you never know what they are looking for. :) If you want to vote for either of them, here are the links. Spread the word. We could win a trip! (Wow- I hate myself for this post).




http://family.go.com/gapcastingcall/entries/lingseyd/179765131/ Hazel

http://family.go.com/gapcastingcall/entries/lingseyd/239765527/ Owen

Okay- I guess I will just have to continue to filter myself. I can't stand the fact that going private means that none of you read my blog! Forget it.

I don't really know why I am so behind on my posting. I have just been feeling very uncreative and unfunny lately. But I guess I need to satisfy the select few who might care about our boring day to day happenings.



A couple of weeks ago, we took the kids out of school, threw some crap in the car and drove up to Oak Creek Canyon to have a little family camping trip. We all needed to get away. I wish we had gotten even further away. I mean, I'm not complaining. It was beautiful and relaxing, but I was a little sad that we could still hear street traffic from our campsite. The place we used to camp in GA was soooo peaceful.....



Anyway- here are a million pictures to tell our story:

This drive could NEVER get old. It's stunning.

What else do you need to survive a road trip besides a few good movies, some pillows...



and a belt with which to strap a flashlight to your head? I don't know. I just don't know.

Here's our beautiful campsite- for some reason nobody chose to camp anywhere near us. Maybe is was the kids darting around screaming at the top of their lungs.

I'm not sure what she was doing here, but this face makes me happy.

Yep- that's pretty much every picture of Owen these days.

Those of you who know me will get just how terrifying this is- I had to do my business in the bathroom and just as I was relieving myself, I looked up and saw the mother of all black widows. Holy crap...literally. I can't even explain how huge this thing was. I also can't explain how stressful it is to poo into a giant abyss while choking back sobs of fear. Not fun, my friends.

The campgrounds were so beautiful and Owen and Hazel were determined to explore every inch.

while eating popcorn balls

which resulted in a few stops to clean popcorn from their teeth....with their shirts?

Owen did everything little boys should do while camping. He peed on several trees (I chose not to photograph that), played with fire, and broke some sticks over his knee...and probably ate a bunch of dirt.

That night we made silver turtles (foil dinners- hamburger patties with potatoes and onions)

Hazel loved everything- including the onions...

Owen wasn't as enthusiastic

That night we, of course, roasted marshmallows. I think I had about 6 smores. My belly hurt. Isn't Hazel such a good multi-tasker eating her smore while prepping two others? Mama's proud.

Am I drunk in this picture? Or maybe just a lack of make-up makes me appear so. And do I always need to get Hazel in a choke hold to get her to pose for a photo?

Hazel started to get cold and whiny and scared of all the skunks that were literally surrounding us. Owen offered her a little warmth and comfort while being the brave big brother.

The next morning, skunks were forgotten as we started the day with powdered doughnuts.

Then we packed up camp and headed over to Slide Rock. We had to stop to pose on this gorgeous tractor. It was strange to see how natural Nathan looked on a tractor.

Here it is. Beauty, right? I know. A couple of people were actually IN the frigid water. See that little head poking out of the water?

Owen joined the select few and waded into the water. He then proceeded to slip (hence the name slide rock) and fall into the water in the last of his clean clothes.
Hazel laughed and pointed and watched Owen flounder from the comfort of this warm rock.

And here's a little clip to make you feel like you were a part of our joyous one-nighter.