The Chemistry Lesson

Today was an awesome day! In Utah the kids were all out of school and my sweetie had the day off. We spent part of it cleaning up and organizing, gathering stuff to send to charity and finishing up a couple of projects.



Then my sweetie took the kids to the park so I could have a few minutes of alone time. I ended up on the computer, working on the newsletter for the dance studio, but at least that is one more thing I don’t have to worry about. When they got back I had promised Curly he could build a little wood kit we had gotten from Lowe’s back in November. He never really cares what they are, he just loves to hammer! (BTW, this is not a plug for Lowe's. My sweetie already got after me for doing two review posts in a row. I hope that wasn't too tedious for you. I was just in a wrap-things-up mode and both of those had been waiting since before Christmas.)

Anyway, back to my awesome day... When we pulled the packages out, they happened to be Science Kits. The building part was pretty uneventful; just 8 nails and they were done. But then the kids started reading the experiment cards that came with them.

Curly and I slipped out to give him a breathing treatment for his asthma and when we came back, my sweetie had them pouring and measuring and mixing in the test tubes that were included. I’m pretty sure I told you that we met in the Chemistry lab. He was going to be a Chemical Engineer until he took an electronics class and that entirely changed our direction. Anyway, these little experiments were just up his alley.

Curly hurried to catch up with everyone else and I took a seat in the back and snapped a few phone pics. After a while, the Dog Walker came in and took some real pictures for you.

First they made pepper chase around in the little plastic petri dishes that were also included. Then they exploded something with baking soda; kind of a mini volcano. Obviously I should have been paying better attention.

Then they took an entire box of cornstarch and made this gooey icky mess! And of course they had to add a little food coloring first so it was a psychedelic disaster. And the measurements weren’t right, so they just had to keep adding and adjusting. And somebody (I think it was my sweetie cause it certainly wasn’t me!) suggested that they stir with their fingers. I just LOVE science, don’t you?!

Three Strikes and I'm Wiped Out

Yesterday I was sitting in church during our first meeting and Baby Doll elected to fill her diaper and then be ornery about it. So I took her out to the changing room, got her fixed up, gave her a little milk, and rejoined the family.

In our church we have three hours of meetings for everyone on Sunday, and each one is about an hour. We left our first meeting and headed for the second. About 10 minutes into that one, she pooped again. So I took her out again, changed her diaper, gave her a little more milk, and rather than disrupt class again, waited in the hall until it was over.

While I was waiting, I was joined by the Bishop’s wife. She was carrying a large container of Red Vines licorice and offered one to Baby Doll. Now my little girl loves red licorice and she was wearing a red dress. It didn’t seem like a bad idea until I remembered I was wearing a white blouse! Red juice oozed from her little hands as she happily sucked/chewed on the piece of licorice. I turned her this way and that to keep those little hands from grabbing my clothes.

We finally entered the last classroom with only a small stain and I quickly sat down and retrieved a wipe from the diaper bag. She grabbed it from me so I pulled another one from the box. I figured she could wipe her own hands a little while I rubbed the red goo from my arms and hands. After about 30 seconds, she bit off a piece of the wipe. I fished it out of her mouth and tossed it in the diaper bag just as she bit off the second piece. People were starting to snigger around us. Me gathering bits of wipe as she tore it into smaller and smaller bites. I finally got the whole thing away from her and stowed safely away.

Then the lady teaching the class passed around a basket full of mint chocolate chip cookies. I took one and carefully broke off a small piece for Baby Doll. But instead of being grateful, she grabbed the big piece and shoved it in her mouth! Pretty soon we were smeared with chocolate cookie crumbs and mint chips. Dare I admit that I pulled out the wipes again?

After a failed attempt to clean her up, I sniffed that familiar aroma…I gathered up the diaper bag, wipe shreds, Baby Doll, and headed for the changing room for the third time. I changed her diaper, washed her smucky little fingers, and then mopped myself with a couple of wipes. Then I dug in her diaper bag until I found the remains of the bag of Cheerios. (The good ones, not the ones that ended up inside my sweetie’s shoes during Sacrament meeting.) I proceeded to down the entire bag! Not sugar, but desperate times call for desperate measures…Baby Doll didn’t mind…she’d found another wipe.

Sock it to me!

My sweetie says we talk altogether too much about disgusting things on this blog, you know…poop, vomit, torn pants, Justin Bieber…So at the risk of offending his delicate constitution, I’ve just gotta tell you about my week! You all remember that on Monday night at FHE Curly threw up over the Justin Bieber movie. That’s not really unusual because he has asthma so when he gets too excited, everything just comes out. 

Scout at Preschool Graduation

On Wednesday, I took Scout to her Preschool Graduation. (She was so cute in her little cap and fancy dress!) They served goodies there and we all ate way too many. The day was progressing totally normal with all the craziness of a typical day at our house. Then while I was loading the dishwasher after dinner, Scout walked right up to me and puked all over my socks, the bottoms of my jeans, and the floor. I helped her undress and sent her to the shower. At that point I still wondered if maybe the goodies and snacks were just not settling well in her little tummy. 

But later that night, after most of the kids were finally snoozing in their beds, Baby Doll started heaving. We spent much of that night cleaning up after her as she struggled to keep anything down. You know how little ones are, she wanted mom/milk to help her feel better, but that really just made her feel worse. Thursday dawned bright and early and I sent the kids to school as usual. I was starting to feel a little queasy myself. It was fathers and sons weekend, so the guys were planning to go camping with a group from our neighborhood on Friday. We also had a Girl Scout sleepover planned, so we needed the house cleaned and the quilt tops made for our service project. It was not a day to sleep in. 

The baby was still sluggish and grumpy, so it was difficult to get things done. Bossy came over to help. Taco is off track so he tagged along. (Big mistake! Huge!) He and Sport hung out after school and played until Bossy picked up and headed home. After dinner, it was almost like a repeat performance…Sport came in the kitchen and puked all over the floor (he missed my socks this time), but he managed to get half of it on the counter and the side of the cupboard. I sent him to the shower and cleaned up the mess. I still had a million things to do to get everything ready, but I crashed around 2:00 a.m and figured it would all work out. 

 About 4:00 a.m., we were sort of sleeping when Sport started yelling for his dad at the top of his lungs. Seems he had thrown up again in his bedroom this time. Most of it made the bowl so the mess was fairly minor but we threw him in the shower again anyway. I rolled over with the baby and went back to sleep. About an hour later, Crafty ran from her room into the bathroom and threw up in the sink. She sat in the shower for almost an hour before I was able to get her to go back to bed. It was time to cancel the Girl Scout sleepover. Bossy called to say that the boys would not be going to fathers and sons. Taco had thrown up several times during the night. Those who were feeling decent headed off to school. 

An hour later I got a text from the Prima Donna that read, "I’m not feeling well…" My advice? "Find a bathroom and hurry!" My sweetie continued with the plans for fathers and sons without the grandsons. By the afternoon, it seemed that everything had finally settled down. We got the guys off for their campout (at the last minute Bossy decided Burrito was well and there was no reason for him to miss) and we hunkered down to tie a couple of quilts for the boys. I got a call from my sweetie. Burrito was puking everywhere. Did I want to come and get him? After settling him down and convincing him that he was a pro at cleaning up after little boys who blow chunks, we watched a movie and finally headed off to bed. 

Sometime during the night Princess ran to the bathroom and in a very graceful manner (because everything she does is graceful), emptied her stomach. The boys rolled in around 1:00 in the afternoon. They were tired and my sweetie was turning green. I sent him off to bed for the rest of the afternoon. I still don’t know how his stomach fared. (I’m afraid to ask…) While unloading the van, the Dog Walker confessed that he threw up on Friday at school, but didn’t want to ruin anybody’s fun so he didn’t tell us. 
 
Then late last night, while Bossy and I were still working on the last of Sport’s new quilt, Curly woke up and ran to the side of the quilt. It was clear what was happening. I ran one way around and Bossy hurdled herself over the quilt frame (pretty impressive, huh?) and carried him to the kitchen where I held him over the sink for the first couple of heaves. **Editor's Note: I would've stayed to help but I am very much a sympathy puker and the last thing we needed was more throw up.  When I thought he was done, I set him on the floor to strip off his clothes. Then he proceeded to throw up all over my socks…

Sport's new quilt.

Baby, Baby, Baby Ohhhh....No

Every Monday night we gather our kids together for a religious ritual called Family Home Evening. It’s a good time for us to teach our kids all the things they need to know about our church, as well as a time for us to teach them skills that will help them be happy, productive adults. It’s also a good excuse to consume copious amounts of sugary goodies. Sometimes we just do something fun like play games or go out for pizza. My sweetie’s favorite activity is to put on a movie in his beloved projector room and enjoy each other’s company while we sit with our eyes glued to the screen. I’m sure we are teaching them something…I’m just not sure what.

These charts new come with enough name spots. Good thing Bossy can photoshop.

Today I took Teach with me to the grocery store. As soon as we got in the store she headed right over to the Redbox to look for a movie. Two minutes later she was back and she was snickering. "I’ve got a movie for FHE," she said. She slipped the Justin Bieber Movie into my purse. I rolled my eyes. "The girls will be so excited…your dad…not so much." We finished our shopping and headed home. I broke the news to my sweetie…gently. **Editor's Note: For previous Justin Bieber antics see here and here.**

"We got a blue-ray!" I said with maybe a little too much enthusiasm. It wasn’t often I suggested a movie for FHE.

"Yeah?" he asked cautiously. "What is it?"

I smiled, "The Justin Bieber Movie."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh come on," I prompted, "the girls are so excited to see it…"

He shrugged, defeated, "OK."

I sent them all downstairs while I prepared strawberry shortcake for our treat. It was the least I could do. I heard the girls screaming right along with the ones on the movie. I could just imagine how my sweetie was faring without me. I cut strawberries a little faster. When I got down there, the sub was pounding and the kids were all singing along. My sweetie looked miserable, but he didn’t say anything. I handed out the strawberry shortcake and settled in to watch the rest of the movie.

Curly’s got the JB moves down. He was running all over, jumping off the couch and singing at the top of his lungs. The trouble is that he has asthma, so any time he gets that excited, he vomits. I should have gotten a clue when he stopped running and stood next to me with his hands over his mouth. I realized it about the same time my sweetie hollered over the music, "He’s gonna puke!" Wisely, I pushed him toward his dad (since I was holding the baby) and told Scout to run for a towel. Too late! He was heaving all over his dad. My sweetie is experienced in this sort of detail and he immediately pulled his shirt into a bowl to catch the mess.

Scout was taking forever, so I sent the Dog Walker after another towel. The way it was looking we could use both of them anyway. She finally returned with a little dishrag, but the Dog Walker was right behind her with an oversized bath towel. Together we stripped Curly down and cleaned him up. "See!" my sweetie hissed at one point. "JB made him throw up!" I scowled at him and then pulled out some baby wipes to scrub Curly’s pale little face. The music already had him pulling away to rejoin the fray.

Two minutes later he was dancing again (in his underwear this time). I couldn’t help but smile, he was so cute! Unprompted, he ran back to me and threw his arms around my neck. "Thanks for being a good cleaner-upper of my throw-up!" he said. I hugged him back, "You’re welcome!" I said. "Go tell Dad." He ran to my sweetie and repeated his gratitude. My sweetie glanced at me over the top of those blonde curls and smiled, "Where did he come from?" Yeah…he’s even cooler than JB.

Blow-out

**WARNING-  The following story contains graphic Mommy humor**

My kids are not the best-dressed kids in the neighborhood. Most of the time I let them choose their own outfits and they may or may not match. That said, when Baby Doll was born my amazingly cool and well-dressed sister-in-law gave her a darling red plaid dress with a matching Scottish-style hat from The Children’s Place. It was fully lined with a little silk slip, lace, ribbons; the works! 

Closest Bossy could find from memory

It finally fit this week and I was so excited as I dressed her for church. I started with a white turtleneck (the collar said "Broncos" but I tucked it on the inside so you couldn’t see it) and some tiny white tights. Then I pulled the beautiful fancy dress over her head and buttoned it up the back. I placed that round plaid hat on her head (she hated it, of course), and we were ready to go. She looked like one of those kids out of the portrait ads! Little did I know that I was in for no end of grief from my other kids. 

 

"Mom," the Prima Donna said, "that hat looks so silly!" 

From the Dog Walker, "You can’t wear a hat at church!" 

Even my little Curly, "She doesn’t want to wear that hat…let me wear it!" 

I ignored them all until the hat slipped down over her eyes and she began to squawk. It didn’t help that I pulled it off and threw it on the floor; she was inconsolable. So I took her out to the nursing room and gave her some milk. When she was totally sacked out I took her back in the chapel so that maybe I could hear a little bit of the meeting I was missing. She was sleeping soundly on my shoulder as I walked back in. Friends and neighbors smiled at her sleeping form, mouthing, "She’s so cute…" We headed for our traditional spot on the back row. 

As soon as we sat back down her little blue eyes popped open. I thought maybe she was looking for her hat, but no such luck. Now I’ve been around the block a few times, so I know a "blow-out" when I hear one. I frantically looked around for the diaper bag. Of course it was all the way down on the end of the row in the corner where my hubby was hibernating. By the time I got his attention, Baby Doll had gotten the attention of the entire back three rows!

I finally received the required gear and headed once more to the nursing room. If I received sympathetic looks, I didn’t see them. She was still pooping and I was walking as fast as I dared without running. I knew there wasn’t an extra outfit to change her into and I really didn’t want her to ruin this expensive little dress after wearing it for only half an hour. I laid her on the changing table and sure enough, the tights and the little turtleneck were covered. 

Not actual blow-out

I slipped the little red dress over her head in a vain attempt to keep it clean. That’s when I noticed that there appeared to be an extra piece of fabric hanging down from the back of the skirt. It was still partly attached with those little plastic hangers from the store. It’s a good thing I’m not smart enough to know that all fancy dresses come with bloomers, because wearing them as an extra layer under her skirt worked pretty well. The dress was fine, but I think the kids may have tossed the little hat in the Lost and Found when I wasn’t looking. I haven’t seen it since.