Thanksgiving in Utah was a lot of fun. We hung out with my sister and her family, taking my dad along for the ride. We saw Rebekah which was a highlight for sure. She works at the local theater so we saw every movie possible (6 to be exact) with free popcorn to boot! The weather was nice and the food was awesome (I ate my way through the week). But let's get to the fun...my Kindsay, who doesn't go anywhere with us, stays tucked away in a room with a computer, but manages to get herself into the picture in her unique way.
The ride there, 12 hours, was long. Miss Kindsay slept a total of 2 hours during the first 4, then sat wide awake through the night as we drove from 6 PM to 6 AM. She sat up front and texted huge pages of text to people. Her nerves were shot driving that long and waiting to get to our destination. She chewed her foot mercilously, actually making quite a gouge right under her pinky toe (she says it needs to be seen by a doctor and stitched up...it's not that bad, but it's close.) We arrived at dawn in Spanish Fork where we found a house full of people waiting for our arrival...7 children and 2 adults. Rebekah was the first to greet us and it was a delightful reunion...even seeing her dog, Shyann, again was fun. The house came alive and the fun started right then. My sister has 2 dogs of her own--a Siberian Husky named Kaia and a Yorkie named Honey. We all know how much Kindsay loves animals--especially dogs. Kindsay would walk the halls and staircases of the house in her long flowing skirts with Honey tucked beneath her arm like the lady of the house. She was either holding Honey or on Facebook making friends. She truly loves Honey, but one couldn't guess that knowing what she did. I wasn't about to wait for the fun to start, I jumped right on it! I had a list of places I had to eat at and movies to see. Kindsay, as usual, denied us of her presence. She refuses to leave the house. We made her on the first day and then to church on Sunday, but come Monday she put her foot down--"I am NOT going out--no no you are not going to make me, you just STOP IT, shut your mouth!" We gave in because forcing a five and a half foot person into day clothes and an outing against her will is a no-win situation. My sister's kids were off to school (their vacay started that Wed.) and my sis and her hubby went off to work. My dad, Greg, the boys, and I went off to have our fun, without Kindsay and with a little fear of the unknown (meaning, are we sure we should leave her here alone?) What could she do, right? Some of you already know the rest, being history to you...but to others--I must document the rest of the day in an effort to immortalize this child's absolute creativity in her approach to life, it's my duty.
Afternoon comes and we're done with a few things on my list...lunch out, a movie...just fun all around...and we come home to our little dear whose face is lit with remorse and guilt. Uh-oh...what have you done Kindsay?
"I took a shower with Honey." OK--what do you mean, took a shower? You and the dog..? "I didn't have clothes and I held Honey and put shampoo and conditioner on her and I washed her and now she's clean." This explained the massive amounts of water on the bathroom floor. Big sigh from me since nothing is damaged or dead...but no more showers with the dog! She agrees "I know I know, bad choice, I don't know why I did that.." The cousins get home from school and my niece finds a box in her room...it's her dad's diabetes kit with needles and insulin...but a needle is missing. I hear Kindsay in the adjacent room once again expressing regret while my niece is freaking out...the story shoots out of Kindsay's mouth like vomit. As the story unfolds I feel my body and ears perking up and up and up because the story just got worse and worse. She did what to who? Seems that Kindsay had to 'care for the dog' a step further than showering. She rummaged through my sister's pantry and found the kit, which then popped the bad angel onto her shoulder. The bad angel waited for the good angel to arrive, at which point it bound and gagged the good angel and begun its work on Kindsay only to succeed with gold stars. Kindsay knows that needles are for shots which are for keeping us healthy, and Honey must've seemed unhealthy because little Honey, that's right, got a couple of shots. Two shots of water into the stomach to be exact. We all panicked, not knowing what that does to dogs, or life in general, since we've never done that kind of experiment. Honey seemed fine, but I pictured her squealing and rattling in fear while Kindsay held her down for her shots. Kindsay tried giving the Siberian Husky a shot, but it would have none of it--so of course Kindsay goes for the weaker breed. We all held our breath and watched Honey, waiting for her to collapse and praying CPR wouldn't be necessary. Honey was definitely hydrated and had the softest fur in the Utah Valley, that was certain...and for some reason this gluttonous canine continued to follow Kindsay around for the remainder of the week. In any case, the good angel was released and found some redemption by keeping Kindsay well under control till we left. I suppose once Kindsay gets the curiosities out of her system she is able to function normally...but at what cost I ask? We hid Honey every time we left after that, putting her in the shed out back...and finally, the second to last day I noticed Kindsay's lips were pale and realized she had denied leaving the house for three days straight. I forced her out, and I think she knew in her body that it was time since she didn't put up a fight. For the ride home I gave her an Ambien to help her settle into sleep instead of sitting up and biting her foot for 12 hours. It did the trick, and beautifully. It's a good thing I love my Ambien and treasure it too much to give it away--otherwise I'd be tempted to relieve us all of Kindsay incessant movement and 'sssss' noises. No, I'm a good mom...I don't give her useless doses of anything, even though she would deserve a shot in the stomach--just one, in honor of brave Honey...the most hydrated dog this side of the Mississippi.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Quips and Blips
This is strictly for those who know my children...and love them because hearing cute stories about other people's kids doesn't make them nearly as cute unless you know them and love them.
That said, here are some funny things my babies have said and/or done in recent times (this is separate from Kindsayisms, which are in a class on their own.)
Ty is a religious little guy. For some reason, he even counts points for his advancement to heaven. One day he got into trouble and came out to his dad, announcing, "OK...I just said a prayer and I forgave Heavenly Father." My husband stood to correct him..."Actually, Ty, you are supposed to ASK for forgiveness, Heavenly Father has to forgive YOU." Ty turns on his heels and says, "Be right back."
A few days later Ty finds that swallowing a headache pill goes down wrong and hurts his throat. He begins to panic because it felt like it was stuck, which it wasn't, but Ty was freaking out and worried he'd never be the same. He's such a chicken all the time so he asks me to go with him to say a prayer to ask to get well. We both go down into my room and kneel at the bed. Ty, gasping and bawling, starts to pray, stops, and says, 'Mom, you gotta do it. Just tell Him to make it better, wahhhhh!' Sure enough, when the prayer was through, Ty was as good as new...not a tear left in his eye.
Garon, on the other hand, has ego issues. Yes, he knows he's good looking, and then finds out from his teacher that he's Advanced on all his subjects and scored Advanced on the state testing from last year. I wanted to keep this a secret because I knew what it would do to his ego, but I also wanted to protect the egos of my other children. Kindsay gets up one morning and turns on Dora the Explorer. Garon, groaning, tells Kindsay to turn the channel because that show is stupid. Greg thinks he's being funny and tells Garon, "You know...all the 'advanced' kids watch that show." Quickly as though reading a script, Garon comes back, "No Dad, this show is for the Far Below Basic kids." Aye, already he begins.
That said, here are some funny things my babies have said and/or done in recent times (this is separate from Kindsayisms, which are in a class on their own.)
Ty is a religious little guy. For some reason, he even counts points for his advancement to heaven. One day he got into trouble and came out to his dad, announcing, "OK...I just said a prayer and I forgave Heavenly Father." My husband stood to correct him..."Actually, Ty, you are supposed to ASK for forgiveness, Heavenly Father has to forgive YOU." Ty turns on his heels and says, "Be right back."
A few days later Ty finds that swallowing a headache pill goes down wrong and hurts his throat. He begins to panic because it felt like it was stuck, which it wasn't, but Ty was freaking out and worried he'd never be the same. He's such a chicken all the time so he asks me to go with him to say a prayer to ask to get well. We both go down into my room and kneel at the bed. Ty, gasping and bawling, starts to pray, stops, and says, 'Mom, you gotta do it. Just tell Him to make it better, wahhhhh!' Sure enough, when the prayer was through, Ty was as good as new...not a tear left in his eye.
Garon, on the other hand, has ego issues. Yes, he knows he's good looking, and then finds out from his teacher that he's Advanced on all his subjects and scored Advanced on the state testing from last year. I wanted to keep this a secret because I knew what it would do to his ego, but I also wanted to protect the egos of my other children. Kindsay gets up one morning and turns on Dora the Explorer. Garon, groaning, tells Kindsay to turn the channel because that show is stupid. Greg thinks he's being funny and tells Garon, "You know...all the 'advanced' kids watch that show." Quickly as though reading a script, Garon comes back, "No Dad, this show is for the Far Below Basic kids." Aye, already he begins.
Catnapping on Carson!
We all know and love Kindsay...at least I do...I just don't know about the neighbors. As you know, Kindsay is NOT to be trusted with the life of another being, so we don't allow her to have pets. Granted, she's tried...if you haven't noticed, we just got rid of the lizard, which was after the birds she found in front of our house. Kindsay is no dummy. She knows Mom and Dad won't buy her a pet, so where should she get one? That's right...out in nature where things live. Except, on this wonderful day off she helped herself to someone else's living thing.
It's Wednesday morning, the day we honor veterans, and I'm lazily sleeping in (does 8 AM count?)...and I hear the garage door open. While my guard SHOULD be up, it's not and I stay in bed. I listen for my children and hear nothing so back to La-La land I go. Greg and I finally get out of bed and face our day off to find the boys tearing down the hallway...and that's normal for them except when I hear them chattering something about 'what Kindsay found.' Experience has taught us ALL that those words together spell trouble. And of course, they are in my room. I can hear Kindsay yelling at the boys, threatening them, and this perks my ears. It is when I hear Ty begin crying that I race down the hall to find one boy crying, another looking under my bed, and Kindsay standing outside my back door, probably ducking my anger. The boys tell me they were trying to get the cat out from under my bed and Kindsay wouldn't let the cat out. There were a few things wrong with that statement...one being that there was a cat, which I am highly allergic to, another was that it was under my bed. Why me? I start pushing stuff under my bed to scare the cat out, but it's not budging. I open my back door to find Kindsay with the 'deer caught in the headlight' look on her face. She knows I'm ticked and she's in for it. Hitting my children is absolutely unacceptable and goodness knows I've been over that with her a hundred times. I order the boys to get the cat OUT! which they proceed to do ASAP, and Kindsay I dismiss from the house until the red mark on Ty's back fades. This wasn't an isolated situation..oh no, we had the neighbors involved. Here's what the neighbor across the street tells us happened:
Kindsay sets out on an early morning trek. She crosses the busy street next to our neighborhood with a backpack on her back and her long skirt and tennies. What's this? A cat hanging out all alone by a light pole? Oh, it seems to like me because it's rubbing on my leg now...I guess it wants to come home with me. Kindsay then shoves the cat in her backpack and zips it up. The neighbor felt it was his duty to return the cat to its region of the neighborhood so it could find its way home, so he came over and asked for the cat. Once the cat was gone, Kindsay went across the street, opened the back gate to our other neighbor's house, and fed their dog. This dog is no lap dog--it's a large black dog that I have never even seen before. Kindsay's feeding away, doing her own thing...would probably shove it in her backpack if it would fit. Rules do not apply to Kindsay...has that become obvious yet? Oh, how my life would be different if she stayed within her limits. Kindsay is like Plankton on Spongebob trying to steal the Krabby Patty formula, and I'm Mr. Krabs, batting down all her attempts. And one day, maybe all the little critters of the world will unite and thank me. Chocolate is always a good show of gratitude.
It's Wednesday morning, the day we honor veterans, and I'm lazily sleeping in (does 8 AM count?)...and I hear the garage door open. While my guard SHOULD be up, it's not and I stay in bed. I listen for my children and hear nothing so back to La-La land I go. Greg and I finally get out of bed and face our day off to find the boys tearing down the hallway...and that's normal for them except when I hear them chattering something about 'what Kindsay found.' Experience has taught us ALL that those words together spell trouble. And of course, they are in my room. I can hear Kindsay yelling at the boys, threatening them, and this perks my ears. It is when I hear Ty begin crying that I race down the hall to find one boy crying, another looking under my bed, and Kindsay standing outside my back door, probably ducking my anger. The boys tell me they were trying to get the cat out from under my bed and Kindsay wouldn't let the cat out. There were a few things wrong with that statement...one being that there was a cat, which I am highly allergic to, another was that it was under my bed. Why me? I start pushing stuff under my bed to scare the cat out, but it's not budging. I open my back door to find Kindsay with the 'deer caught in the headlight' look on her face. She knows I'm ticked and she's in for it. Hitting my children is absolutely unacceptable and goodness knows I've been over that with her a hundred times. I order the boys to get the cat OUT! which they proceed to do ASAP, and Kindsay I dismiss from the house until the red mark on Ty's back fades. This wasn't an isolated situation..oh no, we had the neighbors involved. Here's what the neighbor across the street tells us happened:
Kindsay sets out on an early morning trek. She crosses the busy street next to our neighborhood with a backpack on her back and her long skirt and tennies. What's this? A cat hanging out all alone by a light pole? Oh, it seems to like me because it's rubbing on my leg now...I guess it wants to come home with me. Kindsay then shoves the cat in her backpack and zips it up. The neighbor felt it was his duty to return the cat to its region of the neighborhood so it could find its way home, so he came over and asked for the cat. Once the cat was gone, Kindsay went across the street, opened the back gate to our other neighbor's house, and fed their dog. This dog is no lap dog--it's a large black dog that I have never even seen before. Kindsay's feeding away, doing her own thing...would probably shove it in her backpack if it would fit. Rules do not apply to Kindsay...has that become obvious yet? Oh, how my life would be different if she stayed within her limits. Kindsay is like Plankton on Spongebob trying to steal the Krabby Patty formula, and I'm Mr. Krabs, batting down all her attempts. And one day, maybe all the little critters of the world will unite and thank me. Chocolate is always a good show of gratitude.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Lizard
Kindsay is dying for a pet...I know, a funny use of words since usually the pet is the one that is dying. If it's alive, Kindsay will bottle it and keep it. Bottle it even without holes in the lid. That's what happened to poor Lizzie the Lizard. I should have reminded my dad that when Kindsay goes out to his property for a visit that she is not allowed to bottle anything and bring it home. I was too late on the reminder last week when the kids were off from school and had to stay at Grandpa's while I worked. Sure enough I got the call from my dad. "Just to let you know, Kindsay found a lizard and it's coming home with her." Groan! was my response. What was my dad to do? Argue with the unarguable? Kindsay does not respond well to the word no, especially when it comes to animals. Do you even know how long it took me to get her to stay away from Birdie out front of my house? I think the bird finally just picked up her nest in her little bird claws and flew far far away because Kindsay spent too much time poking it with a stick. So now we've got Lizzie. ew. It was about 6 inches long with a blue stomach, which Kindsay liked to point out, "It is a blue lizard, a blue one." Whatever that means. Too bad it didn't mean "lizard that likes to bite little girls" because that is exactly what Kindsay needed. Do I have a home for this thing? Depends on who you ask. The Gladware disposable tupperware that Kindsay used to house it would indicate yes, but since the Gladware was void of breathing holes and room large enough for the lizard to roll over, I would say no. Kindsay couldn't even feed it, shocking. Lizards like bugs and flies and my bug/fly collection was pretty low so Lizzie was hungry during her stay. Kindsay would fill the Gladware with water and I suppose that was the life sustaining sustenance of choice. So Day 1 our conversation went like this: "Kindsay, you have to get rid of that lizard. You can't feed..." "NO! I WILL NOT! IT'S MY LIZARD, I AM KEEPING IT!" "Kindsay, how will it eat?" "YOU JUST BETTER STOP TALKING...JUST STOP!" Day 2: "Kindsay, what have you fed the lizard?" "OH MOM, JUST STOP TALKING! I let it out in the sandbox." So she let the lizard out in our sandbox and that was its rare opportunity to snag a bug and eat. Lizzie was frozen, probably in terror, so it didn't appear to NOT like its new life in Kindsay's eyes. I just kept waiting for it to wind up in my microwave. But alas. One night Greg and I took Garon to the movies (he was the only one that wanted to go) so we left Ty at my mom's and Kindsay at home with Lizzie. We got home after a couple or hours to find our house turned upside down as though we'd been robbed. Even the garage was dismantled. Greg was furious and spent the whole evening cleaning. I find out the next day that my step-dad had Ty call my house to check on Kindsay while we were at the movies, and she told Ty she'd lost the lizard in the house. That explains the boxes turned over and house in shambles...grrrr. Every night I would tell Greg to get rid of Lizzie while Kindsay slept, and every morning Kindsay would go outside and find it sitting in the sandbox, frozen with fear. One would've thought it was a stuffed lizard. I would hear Kindsay having a full blown, well, one-sided conversation in the backyard only to realize she was talking to the poor lizard. Maybe it was frozen like a possum to play dead and hope Kindsay would leave it alone? Finally, Kindsay got into huge trouble with me, I think for belting her brother with a good hit on the back and that was the final straw! I had Greg take the lizard once and for all and GET RID OF IT! Kindsay knew she was in huge trouble and didn't balk at the removal of her pet. The next morning I find Kindsay dumping her lizard tank into my laundry room trash can. "Whoa Kindsay, what is that?" 'Oh oh oh, they're meal worms...my teacher got them for me for the lizard." Dumping a water tank of meal worms into my laundry room trash can? Does she understand now that she cannot have a pet? Well, Saturday she went to the movies with a girl from her class at school. I bought her a ticket then gave her some money for snacks. Kindsay is nobody's fool. That girl pocketed my money to buy herself a rat and had the friend's parents pay for her candy AND soda AND nachos. Relentless.
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