During a hike we took recently, I heard Stella and her cousin Anabelle mention the name Justin Beiber (or Beaver as Stella says), and then I heard Beyoncé. I honed in on the conversation, thinking that surely this 6- and 7-year-old didn't know anything about her. Then I heard, "And she doesn't even know how to wear pants!"
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Stella was having some quiet time in her room one Sunday afternoon. When I came to get her, I noticed her picture of President Monson taped outside her door on the wall. I asked her about it and she said that he was in TIME OUT. She needs siblings.
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I got a call from the school nurse saying that Stella was complaining of a tummy ache. I talked to Stella on the phone and said that I would come pick her up if she was feeling sick. I did mention as well that she'd have to take a nap if she came home. She opted to stay at school. When I picked her up from school at the end of the day, I said,
MOM: "How are you feeling Stella?"
STELLA: "I pooped 4 times."
MOM: "Poop or diarreah?"
STELLA: "It was a pattern. Poop, diarreah, poop, diarreah."
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I'm so glad I didn't get this picture text while I was at church because I couldn't stop laughing! When my family was here in November, most of them stayed with my Uncle David and Aunt Lora. This is funny all by itself, but to make it doubly funny, please read
THIS STORY from 1999 when my sister Natalie and I stayed at my Uncle David and Aunt Lora's house. We've come to the conclusion that UD and AL skimp on the plumbing in their houses. It couldn't possibly be Anderson poop related. By the way, it turns out Natalie plugged it before Adam did. Now I'm curious if she clogged it back in 1999 before I did. Interesting turn of events, I'd say.
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Is it funny that people ruin their kids on purpose. And when I say funny, I really mean not funny at all. For instance, there is a little area behind a window at gymnastics where you can watch your kids. Some people don't have quiet voices. This lady was reprimanding her 10/11 year old son about being a baby about having to watch his brother at gymnastics when she has to watch every baseball, soccer, blah, blah, blah . . . guilt trip mother speech.
Then suddenly she started talking absolute crap about his father and how he has time to spend with them but chooses not to. He loves work more than them. She's talked to him several times about it, but he just won't understand. She's told him that he's going to regret not spending time with the kids while they were young and he's not going to have a relationship with them when they are older and they aren't going to respect him.
OK, maybe all of that information is true. Maybe their Dad does act like that. Results of him not spending time with his children could very well turn out like she said. HOWEVER, DON'T FREAKING SAY THAT TO YOUR KID!
I almost said something, but I'm sure I would have started crying. I just texted everyone I had a number for instead. The end.
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OK, same crazy lady. Same poor 10/11 year old kid. Gymnastics again. No quiet voices. It was around Christmastime. I came into the middle of the conversation when he was saying that he knew that his Mom and Dad were Santa. His mother was absolutely adamant about the fact that the only thing that gets her up in the middle of the night is having to pee and that she wouldn't ever have time to get all of that Christmas stuff done.
Ok, is that cute? NO, it's NOT! The kid is 10! If he was 4 or 5, sure maybe try to keep up their imagination about Santa, but that kid is at the age where he knows his parents are full of crap and know they are LYING to him!
That lady needs parenting classes.
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Punctuality is not our strong point. I've rubbed off on Stella. One morning after saying "HURRY!" a hundred times, I asked Stella if she even knew what that meant. She said no. Now if she's late 20 more times, I have to take a parenting class. Nice.
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I love to hear little conversations between Stella and her cousins. After watching Tangled at the theater, Anabelle and Stella were talking about the Justin Bieber movie preview called "Never Say Never," when Anabelle said, "Duh, he just said NEVER!"
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While bowling with the family, the little kids (Stella, Hannah, Tatem, and Brynlee) became bored very quickly. Lindsay had electronic devices to keep them occupied between turns, but Tatem would have none of the bowling. One time Natalie dragged her up to bowl while she still had the game in her hand. She didn't even look up, she just pushed the bowling ball off the ramp with one hand while still holding on to the game.
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One late night Elliot was talking about his busy schedule. It may have been funnier late at night, but still funny nonetheless. He numbered off all of the things he needed to do for the week and then he said, "I'm not a super hero, though that would be really cool . . ." then he just went on with his serious conversation. I must have been delirious. I couldn't stop laughing.
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It's been fun to have my 2 1/2-year-old niece Tatem here visiting. She's like a crazier version of Stella that doesn't necessarily like people so much. Like if I see her and try to give her a hug, she'll run away crying for 10 minutes. It's sort of a hit a miss. But now we're sort of BFF's. In fact, she'd rather have me wipe her butt than anyone.
Anyway, now that we're on good terms, she makes me laugh because she is a little crazy. And by a little, I really mean a lot. What makes me laugh even harder is when she'll start dancing and singing along when I change the words to "All the Single Ladies" to "All the Crazy Ladies" in her honor.
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Hannah's double-barrel sneeze that made Stella nearly climb out of the train cart like Jackie Kennedy.
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Once upon an hora, my amigo, Rufus, took a walk looking for his toenail clippings. He met a senorita along the way. She asked, "May I be your first kiss?"
"I would," he replied, "but your breath smells like burnt sausage."
E hola de la pistola!
(story written by Lindsay Bangart during a ridiculous game on New Year's Eve)* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As I was driving the other day, I saw a sign that said, "Jody's Body Waxing and Harmonic Healing". Is it just me, or is that an oxymoron?
So I have a plan! We went to IKEA and bought a toy box. I wasn't disappointed when Stella happened to pick out one of the smallest toy boxes. This way, ALL of her toys that we're going to keep will need to fit into this one toy box. If it doesn't fit, we don't keep it. Plus, it'll be super easy for her to clean up her own stuff without having to organize every little thing. One place for everything. I know, I'm a genius.
