Want to see some gnarly feet?

I'm not going to write about boogers today.
Not going to, not going to, not going to....

I love having children. I realize that what I wrote last week may have been construed as "My children have ruined me," because that is almost what I wrote verbatim, but I do love them.

I taught Chancho to ride his bike without training wheels a few days ago. Here was my logic: Let's take a four-year-old who is already fascinated with speed and destruction and various combinations of the two and put wheels under him. Mother of the year right here.

I don't think I've ever seen him as happy as he is pedalling around the cul de sac. When I took the above photo I asked him to make his "toughest dirt bike face." That's what I got. Pretty gnarly, I think.

By the end of the day these were his "feet":

Also quite gnarly. There are feet under all of that street grime, right?

For the record, I love my children. I love explaining the meaning of the words to Beatles songs to Macey and having her get it. I love Olivia's lisp. I love Chancho's crazy dirt bike feet. I love watching Tess work her dad's iPad. My kids are all right.

I think I'll keep them.

P.S. Here's what I wrote this week. Are you guys on Facebook? You can "like" St. George News on there and then my stories will immediately come up on your wall, along with lots of other local news that you would've otherwise had no idea about. You should try it, it's a good time.

I don't want to be gross.

This week I wrote about spring cleaning over at St. George News. What you won't see in this article is my somewhat immature booger wisecrack because it was edited out. 

I think my kids have ruined me. 

I used to be disgusted by things like boogers and toilet contents and vomit. Now it's just a part of my day, like high heels and manicures are for fancy people. For example, I took Chancho and Tess to the park in Little Valley today. A while into it I noticed that Tess was chewing a piece of gum - a piece of gum that she must have discovered on the ground or stuck under the slide or something. Disgusting? Absolutely, but what can you do? I pulled the gum out of her mouth and threw it in the trash immediately, of course, but it didn't freak me out like I know that it should have. Maybe because she's done it before - the gum thing, I mean - and later that day she was doing this:

She is obviously a healthy, well-adjusted child.

This morning I babysat these legs:

  

They are attached to my nephew Nathan. They're not so much legs as they are flailing balls of baby flesh, but I digress. Nathan is a barfer. Some babies do that - they vomit more than others. I don't hold it against them, it's just one of the many defects in their tiny, undeveloped bodies. Anyway, this morning Nathan threw up on my shoulder. A nice thick, white, slimy baby spit up. But I didn't hustle to clean myself off like I would have a few years ago. In fact, I half-heartedly wiped it off of my shoulder and kept playing with him for a while before I finally got in the shower.

What this really is is a cry for help. I don't want to be gross. My fear is that one day I'm going to look in the mirror and find that I've turned into one of those girls who eat ants just to shock the other campers. I knew a girl who did this when I worked at Beaver High Adventure Base that one summer. Her name was Erin and she ate ants. Not the little ants, either - she ate the fleshy, horse-sized ones. She claimed that they tasted like green apple Jolly Ranchers. I wonder if she's still alive.

I don't want to be an ant eater, guys. Will you remind me of this when I post pictures of my own zits and tell stories about boogers? Thanks.

seven posts for the price of one!

Has anyone else noticed the Erasure revival that's been happening on the radio? Do I listen to too much George FM? I'm hearing an unusually high volume of Erasure lately, particularly songs from their album The Innocents, which I listened to on cassette tape ad nauseum in my old Honda. It wasn't even my tape. It was Monna's. I wore that tape out.

Almost everything I pin on Pinterest is food. What can I say? I'm passionate about collecting recipes that I'll never try.

Chancho is currently sitting on the toilet yelling, "MOM! I'm out of toilet paper!" and I'm letting him sweat it out. The kid knows it's under the sink.

Would you guys like to hear something gross but that might make you feel better about yourselves? I gained 7 pounds in California. SEVEN. I didn't know that was physically possible. If a pound is 3500 calories, then I ate an excess 24,500 calories. That's a lot of churros.

Here's what I wrote this week. I dunno...like I've said before, I feel like I have someone shooting at my feet yelling, "BE FUNNY!" Ugh.

Calories in a churro: 240. I Googled it. I sure as heck did not eat 102.08 churros. Perhaps it was the gummy bears, M&Ms, turkey legs, Belgian waffles, or the soda.

Chancho just got out of the loo, where miraculously he found the toilet paper. It's a miracle.

one more day

So...we packed up our luggage. Checked out of the hotel. Got on the freeway. And then got back off of the freeway and went to back to Disneyland again because we couldn't help ourselves.

My kids made me take this picture:

Or did I take it because I'm secretly a Star Wars nerd? You'll never know for sure. Everyone loves these things:

Obviously.

We waited in line for an hour for what I though was a ride, but only turned out to be these ladies:

Tess crashed...

...so we came home.

Back to reality.

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I'm never coming home.

The time changes tonight, right? I'm in California, which is already an hour behind. So I'll be moving my clock forward an hour to Utah time. And then on Monday when we come home I'll move forward another hour. My head is going to explode.

We've been here:

Doing this stuff:

And this stuff:

And this stuff:

And today, some of this:

I love this kid:

This kid's got some chafage:

This little guy is one of my favorite DJs:

And this one loves when her food comes in a car:

This was my humongous chicken bacon avocado sammie. It was all right.

Finally, these are the Siamese gummy bears that have been providing my children with endless entertainment:

I never want to go home.

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My special friend

Lately, after I put my kids in bed I rummage through the cupboards for comfort food. I'm usually cranky -  grumbling internally about my zits, the cost of gas, Democrats who voted in the Michigan Republican primaries, the cost of gas, etc. I'm a real treat. And then suddenly I find what I'm looking for. My worries melt away and I can hear Neil Diamond singing softly in the background...

Helloooo, my friend, hello...

Just called to let you know


I think about you every night


And I know it's late


But I couldn't wait


Hello...
Interestingly, the Nutella sings a Lionel Richie song back to me...
 
Hellooo!


Is it me you're looking for?


I can see it in your eyes


I can see it in your smile


You're all I've ever wanted


And my arms are open wide


'cause you know just what to say


And you know just what to do


And I want to tell you so much


I love you...

We have a unique relationship - Nutella and I. You can tell by the 80s music. Sometimes my friend Nutella is the only thing that gets me through the day.

I love you, my friend. See you tonight.

And really, this is worth watching...
(So many questions...do blind people really use lamps to read Braille? How does the ballet thing work? Just how creepy is Lionel in this video on a scale from one to five? Discuss.)


(Oh yeah, I wrote another humor thingie this week. Read it. Maybe I quoted you.)