Cowboy Obsessed

May 3, 2012

Dear Atticus,
You're obsessed with all things cowboy.  You have been for about six months now.

ob·sess 

v. ob·sessed, ob·sess·ing, ob·sess·es

To preoccupy the mind of excessively; to think about something unceasingly or persistently.

Yes siree, that's you alright.  I believe it all started with your fascination of guns.  Every once in awhile we go out shooting or collecting brass (bullets as you call them) as a family.  You LOVE these outings.  
Grandma Cindy treated us to a movie the other day and you had no desire to go.  You kept saying you just wanted to go find bullets.

Your love for guns soon turned into a desire to be a police officer.  You started to pretend shoot anything and everything.  Animals, buildings, people... Christmas lights.  You talked about being a cop so you could "shoot the bad guys".  This had me a little worried.  Papa sat you down and told you that it's not okay to shoot animals and people.  He said something along the lines of Jesus making all living things and that we need to be kind to them.  You asked, "Well, what can we shoot then?"  He told you that we only shoot animals if we're going to eat them for our food.  You asked what kind of animals and he rattled off a few, including deer.  The next day at Preschool you made an announcement to each child as soon as they walked in the door, "Jesus said we can shoot deers!".

Because of your love for guns Grandpa Dewey bought you two cowboy style cap guns for Christmas and boy howdy do you ever love them!  The granparents also bought a huge bouncing horse to keep at their house for "all the grandkids".  Wink, wink.  Grandpa Dewey told me he got it mostly because he wanted to see Atticus' face when he first got on it and that every cowboy needs a horse.

We happened to see some cowboy boots close to your size (two sizes too big) at the Thriftstore about a month later and you went wild over them so of course I had to get them.  You wear them everywhere, usually on the wrong feet and sometimes with shorts.  The last time Grandpa Dewey came to town he couldn't wait to take you to the "cowboy store" and buy you a hat.   So now you have guns, boots, and a hat.  Apparently that's not good enough.  The other day you told me that I needed to buy you  some cowboy pants and shirts.  I explained that you already had everything you needed to be a cowboy.  You replied, "Well, I don't want to be a pretend cowboy.  I want to be a real cowboy!"

When Grandma Livvy babysits you on Mondays and Wednesdays she always lets you watch cartoons for a little while.  Well, cartoons no longer interest you.  All you want to watch are old black and white Westerns!  All those cowboys, guns and horses... Yee-haw! 

Now that you're so into Westerns you think you're quite the expert on Cowboys and Indians.  While at preschool the other day all the children were playing when you suddenly (and loudly) proclaimed that you don't like Indians.  I nervously glanced around the room to see if any of the other children had heard, specifically to see if Melissa* was paying attention.

"Yes you do Atticus."

You raised your eyebrows and defiantly said, "No, I don't.  Indians are bad."

Nervous gulp.  I quickly grabbed your arm and led you to the other room.

"Atticus, that's not nice to say.  Melissa is an Indian."

You chuckled and looked at me incredulously, "No she's not."

"Yes, she is, that's why her skin is brown.  She's called a Native American Indian.  Indians don't wear clothes like in the Westerns and they're not bad either.  They're very nice people."

Your eyes went wide, shock and amazement written all over your face.  "Well, they fight the cowboys."

"They don't anymore.  They're all friends now."

You just stood there with your mouth open, not sure if you should believe me or not.

"Don't ever say you don't like Indians or that they're bad, okay?"

You hesitated, "Well... okay."

I wasn't sure if you got the point until a few days later when we were at the Thriftstore (again) and you saw a Navajo sand painting.  You were so excited to see the Indian and you said you loved it and begged me to buy it so you could hang it in your room.  You also saw a stuffed animal horse and a cowboy belt.  Intense begging followed.  I bought all three of them secretly while I had you preoccupied with a book.  Hopefully your cowboy obsession lasts until your Birthday because you have some serious Cowboy gifts coming your way.

This is what we bought at "Cowboy Collectibles" when we were in Panguitch the other day:

Giddyup Cowboy.
Love, Mama

*Melissa's name has been changed. :)

Sunday Funday

March 26, 2012

Dear Children,
Sunday is a special day.  It's the day we cover your faces in Easter stickers.  What?!  Yeah, I'm not sure how or why, but something weird always seems to be going on when it's Sunday.
 

Remember Panty Heads?  

Or how about practicing headers?  

Papa rolling you up like burritos?  

Or when you played, "Orphan on the Street"?  

Strange happenings.  

Always on a Sunday.

How did this come about?  I have no idea.  It totally creeps me out though.  {Shudder}

Love, Me

Tubalicious

March 5, 2011

Dear Children and Lover,
What a great weekend!!  It was my Birthday weekend AND I got to do a seasonal must.  You see, there are just certain things that I love to do every season.  I look forward to them with great anticipation and when they happen I'm like, "Waa-hoooo!  My life is complete!".

Winter- Tubing and/or sledding
Spring- Pascua  (like Easter, only better)
Summer- Camping (every weekend please)
Fall- Fall Foliage

Poor baby boy fell in a huge mud puddle in the parking lot.  Although he looks miserable in these pictures, he did have a good time.  He was muddy and his hands kept getting cold (because he wouldn't leave his darn gloves on), but he loved tubing.  He didn't complain once.  

This girl had a great time and she very happily babysat her cousin Dahlin so his momma could get some tubing in as well.

The real fun began once everyone else left.  Not that we didn't enjoy having other people there, but when they left we had the whole place to ourselves and all the tubes too.  We're selfish like that.

The little boys men decided it would be brilliant to make a train on the steepest trail.  Not only was it steep, but at the end there were two huge drop-offs and then a playground to smash into at the end.  

Great idea, huh?!

Luckily (and thankfully) their train never made it far because they kept crashing.

They made four attempts and all of them ended in crashes.  It was really funny to watch, but made me nervous too.  I think I might have caused their crashes by unconsciously praying that they wouldn't ramp off the drop-offs, resulting in broken backs.

The funnest run of the day was the last one.  We hiked all the kids and tubes to the top for one last thrill ride.  There were seven adults, six kids and six tubes.  Trey and I doubled up with Atticus on our lap.

It was a perfect train that stayed straight, gained enough momentum to be thrilling yet a little scary, and we made it all the way to the parking lot baby!

On the way home from tubing we got into a war with Shawn and his passengers (Reed & Kaitlin).  They started throwing Black Cats at our car so we were throwing crackers at theirs because that's all we had.  Trey was chewing up the crackers and then spewing them out his window.  We even had Jonas trying to throw them out the back.  The kids would all yell and clap when we hit Shawn's car.

When we were almost in town Reed changed the whole game by chewing up a brownie, forming it into a ball and then chunking it at our car.  Splat!  A big brown glop hit our windshield.  

That was it, game on!

They continued straight on Main St. and we turned down Pinon Hills Blvd, hoping to head them off.  Trey and I had our mouths full of crackers and we were chewing and adding more as fast as we could.  When we saw Shawn turn down my dad's street we spit the crackers into our hands and formed a ball. Disgusting, I know.  There's a parking lot behind my dad's house that has two entrances on opposite ends.  Shawn sped up and entered the entrance closest to my dad's house while we entered the other one.  Time seemed to stand still.  The two cars were posed, facing eachother.  As we sped toward eachother we rolled down our windows and threw our cracker bombs at Shawn's car.  Mine missed, but Trey's hit it's mark.  A huge wad of spit and crackers splattered his front windshield.  We were laughing hysterically and the kids were cheering wildly.  As soon as our bombs were unleashed, we started stuffing more crackers into our mouths.  

Shawn sped off, but we knew he had to take Reed and Kaitlin home eventually, so we headed that way.   We waited for a few minutes and then we saw them coming up the street.  We again formed cracker bombs in our hands and this time I was practically on top of the car I was leaning so far out.  Splat!  My bomb hit the side of his car.  Woot!  By this time we could NOT control our laughter.  Well, all of us except Ms. CTR (Choose The Right) in the backseat.  Clara piped up, "Do you really think it's appropriate for parents to be doing this?"  No ma'am, no I don't, but it sure was fun!

Once the kids were bathed and in bed Trey and I went out to dinner with the enemies.  My dad and Barb showed up half way through and paid for mine and Trey's dinner since my Bday was so soon.  We all went to get frozen yogurt after that, but Trey and I just chatted with everyone while they ate because Aspen Leaf just doesn't cut it.  We're such fro-yo snobs now, after living in NV for two years and trying literally every frozen yogurt place in town.

Sunday was my Birthday and Trey got up early to make pancakes with berry syrup.  Yum-o!  I then got to open my presents and I was pleasantly surprised to see he had gone to my Pinterest account and bought two outfits I had pinned.  What a guy!  

Mucho lovo, Me

Poop Balls

Dear Clara and Nora,

Picture this:  Two sisters playing nicely.  You each have a corner of the room where you've gathered books, pillows, blankets, and drinks to make yourself a cozy little home.  At first it's pure sister bliss.  As the game continues however, Clara, being the older sister, starts to get more demanding and bossy.  I can tell Nora's getting frustrated, but I choose to let the game progress in hopes that all will be well.  The two sisters start to get into an argument.  Clara rattles off some rather mean comments and hoping to retaliate Nora clenches her fists, grits her teeth and yells, "Well, you're a... a... big, big... POOP BALL!"

The phrase caught like wildfire in our tiny two bedroom abode.  Whenever there is name calling to be done, this is by far the name of choice.  I've tried to not make a big deal of it and in so doing I fear that the children think it's an acceptable name to yell out at someone in anger or frustration.  It's only a matter of time before I'm called a big ol' poop ball.

It's gotten so bad that the other night at family prayer it was Clara's turn and she prayed, "...and please bless us so that we can stop calling each other poop balls."  It was very hard to suppress the giggles.

It's growing on Papa and he wishes it could stay around, but it's not gonna happen.  I've resorted to giving gentle (or not so much) thumps to the mouth whenever someone says it.  I had to thump Papa's mouth the other night (all in good fun) because he said it.  I'm hoping Clara's prayer is granted soon.

Love, Mama

Footprints

July 25, 2011

Dear Children,
 The City of Henderson was in front of our house today doing work on the sidewalk.  After they left I noticed a lovely patch of wet cement.  It was calling my name.  Truly, I couldn't resist.  I had all of you make an imprint to memorialize forever our time in Henderson, NV.

A little while later I happened to look out the window and notice the City workers had come back and they were scraping and smoothing the sidewalk.  After they left Trey and I went outside to see if any of the footprints remained.  Nope, they were gone.  That's right, completely erased.  The nerve.  I did notice, however, that the cement was still slightly damp.  I don't know what possessed Trey and I, but we quickly ran inside to get you kids.  We had you make your footprint and this time I took pictures in case they dissapeared again.

The next time the City workers came back the cement was already too dry to erase your footprints completely, so they just scratched them out as best they could.  Muah ha ha, our memory will forever remain!

We are such good roll models, I know.

love, your naughty mother

A Busy Week

Monday, July 18 2011 6:44am

Dear Atticus,

     You had a very busy week!  These were your accomplishments:

- Broke a vase

- Dropped a bowl full of cereal

- Dressed up as a girl at least three different times by your sisters

- Stole cookies off the counter

- Ate (not chewed, ate) _?_ pieces of gum.  I have no idea how many because I kept finding empty wrappers throughout the house.

- Attempted to paint your own nails

- Got caught eating Nutella straight from the jar (I don't blame you, it's hard to resist)

- Tried to glue your legs together??

- Ripped a book to shreds

- Went to time-out more times than I can count

- Broke two headbands

- Learned how to do a somersault off the couch

- Poured yourself a glass of milk

- Broke the vacuum

- Fell asleep in time-out

Don't cry, sweet boy, I still love you!

I might be more than a little ecstatic that your Grandma Cindy is coming to stay with you for a week though.  

Love, Mama

What not to Wear

July 07, 2011

Dear Atticus,
     I understand that you want to be your own person.  Really, I do.  You may need to, ahem, adjust your sense of style as you get older though.  Just a suggestion.

The rest of your siblings will let me pick out their outfits and are (usually) content with what I choose.

Not you.  Somedays you absolutely insist on wearing your clothing backwards.

You feel that certain shirts belong with certain pants.  Whatever.  As long as you have clothes on I'm cool with it.

 

Can you at least refrain from cutting your clothes into the styles you want?  That would make me happy.

Love you, Mama

60th Anniversary

June 3, 2011 6:22am
Dear Children,
     After our fun day at River Fest we headed back to the house so the little ones could take a nap before the big celebration.

The celebration was the 60th Wedding Anniversary of Grandpa and Grandma Livvy (aka Ulibarri).

It was at a fancy hotel and all their family and friends were there.  It was a real treat and the primary reason for us making the long trek to New Mexico.  We just love these two.  They've done so much for us and we hope to someday be as cute as them.

The food was good and the company was wonderful.  Two tragedies happened during the celebration and unfortunately they were both in our family.

1-  Clara sustained a very strange eye injury that freaked me out.  We have no idea what happened and neither does she.  She was fine the next day, but at the time her eye looked super funky and I was afraid there might be permanent damage.  While Trey was in the restroom washing out her eye he discovered the second tragedy.

2-  I share this because it's a funny story from Trey's point of view.  Jonas' point of view wasn't quite as funny.  Actually, it made my heart hurt for him.  The only way to tell this story is to just come right out and tell it how it was.  When Trey opened the door to the restroom he saw poop everywhere.  There were poop footprints, poop smudges, and a pile of poop in front of the toilet in one of the stalls.  He about gagged when he walked in because of the sight and smell.  He started washing out Clara's eye when uncle Rocky walked into the restroom.

They made eye contact and looked at each other like, "What the heck happened in here?!".
As they tried to suppress their laughter and disgust Rocky knocked on the poop stall door and said, "Are you okay in there?"
No reply.
He knocked again and said, "Do you want me to get your mom?"
Sniffle, sniffle, "Yes."
"Okay.  What's your mom's name?"
"Meshan.  My mom's name is Meshan Foutz."
Trey thought, "Oh hell no!", but what he said was, "Jonas, is that you?"
This brought instant tears from Jonas followed by blubbering about how it was an accident, I didn't make it in time (obviously), I tried to get up and leave but I couldn't because there was too much poop, I'm sorry!!

Poor kid.  We cleaned up Jonas as best we could, wrapped him in a towel and left the rest of the mess for the maid service.  Was that rude?  Should I have done more?  I at least told them there was, um, an accident in the men's room.

Sunday was nice and leisurely and it was definately needed to recover from all the fun of the previous day.  The Ulibarri clan came over to the Foutz' and we again enjoyed their backyard while lounging around visiting, swinging, and ending the day with smor'es around the campfire.  We also were able to go to my dad's house for a nice dinner with the Nygren clan.  Yipee for family!

Lots of love, Mama

Bust out the EpiPen!

May 10, 2011 1:07 pm
Dear Love,
   I feel such gratitude in my heart for you today.  It's nearly bursting at the seams with love and pride that you're my husband.  Let's recap.

     Last night at about 8:30 I went on a walk with my friend Melissa.  I got home an hour later and then around 10:00 I was on the computer and my right eye started bothering me.  I alternated between rubbing and scratching it and after awhile I noticed my left was beginning to feel strange too.

I stopped and thought for a moment.  Did I have something in my eye?  Was it dirt?  It felt really irritated.  It felt like it was getting worse.  Yeah, it was definately getting worse.  Fast.  Really fast.  It felt like allergies on crack.  My pulse started racing.  My eye felt puffy.  I got up and looked in the mirror.  My eye was extremely red and swollen.  Oh no, not again!

"Babe,"  I yelled, "bust out the EpiPen!"  You came in the bathroom, took one look at me and told me to go take Benadryl stat.  "How much?" I asked.  "10 ml for now, hurry!"  I quickly gulped it back when you came in and told me to drink 10 more.  You then told me to go lay down, but I was too worried about my eyes and what irritant could possibly be on my hands so I went in the bathroom to scrub everything down.

In the meantime you were looking through your Pharmacy book and making calculations.  You brought me a Famotidine pill and again told me to lay down and relax.  "Better yet, just go to bed."  By now it was 10:45 and I prayed my heart out then went to bed.  I couldn't sleep though because it felt like my eyes were bulging out, my throat itched and my sinuses were draining profusely.

We both checked my eyes periodically to make sure the swelling was going down and you got the EpiPen out just in case.  You kept asking me if my throat felt like it was closing and thankfully I said no every time.

I remember asking you at one point why you gave me a Histamine pill and then made me drink Anti-Histamine.  I felt very confused.  Once you explained what was happening I thought it was hilarious.  I mean, I couldn't stop laughing.  I was snorting and rolling around on the bed.  You looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Well, now you know what it feels like to be drunk".  I thought that was downright the funniest thing I had ever heard and my hysterics started again... and then I passed out.

Your alarm woke us both up at 2:45am so that you could check on me.  You jumped out of bed, turned on the light and proceeded to examine my eyes.  You pronounced me healed and I gratefully fell back into a groggy slumber.

When I awoke this morning I had huge, dark bags under my eyes and although I've never been drunk, I felt like I had a hangover.  I'll take that over a trip to the ER any day.

Thank you for saving me, my love.
xoxo, Me

Trash to Treasure

May 2, 2011 9:50pm

Dear Nora and Atticus,

     When I was working on "The Beast" it took up quite a bit of time.  One day in particular I was feeling guilty for  not spending time with the two of you so when Nora asked if we could go on a walk I said, "Sure!"

Because of my preoccupation with refinishing furniture, unkept hair and stained clothes are the norm.

So there we were, going along at a decent pace, with Atticus bringing up the rear.

As I was taking random pictures I noticed Nora had a very perplexed look on her face.

I turned around and this is what happened:

Atticus had ceased following us and he was checking out the goods in the neighbor's trash.  I yelled at him to keep going and he looked at me, looked back at the trash, and then proceeded to set his bike down.

He walked over to the trash and started digging through it so he could get a better look!  Oh great,  my child has inherited my "trash to treasure" gene or better known to papa as the "collecting crap" gene.

I walked over to get him since he obviously wasn't coming on his own and this is what I found that he thought was so fascinating:

Yep, that's some real treasure alright.  Nora also found treasure along the way.

I love you my little treasure seekers,  Mama