Brandt’s Shopping List
Dec 08, 2009 
1 bunch of bananas1 gallon of olive oil3 bottles of Season-All (2 small, 1 large)1 bag of coffee1 bag of whole wheat Goldfish crackers2 lbs of bologna1 tube of Pillsbury sugar cookie dough1 tube of Pillsbury peanut butter cookie dough1 lb of Smoked Sausage Link
Nothing like a secret second shopper to liven up a trip to the store. I caught him on most of it, but I did have to trek across the store to return certain items to their proper place. Little stinker. In my defense, Khyah’s car seat blocks my view pretty well.
Thanksgiving Et Al
Another Thanksgiving has come and gone, and this year, we are most thankful to have spent it with family. Rick had two weeks of vacation over the holiday, so we had a splendid visit with parents, grandparents, cousins, brothers, sisters, the whole shebang.
I don’t want to bore you with all the sordid details, but here are the highlights of thanks:
1- I am thankful I got my hair cut! (The dead animal is GONE.)
2- Brandt is thankful for chopsticks and McDonald’s. (And for grandparents who love to take him out to eat!)
3- London is thankful he got to bounce on the trampoline.
4- We are thankful we got our family picture taken. And even more thankful that we only do it once a year.
5- The boys are thankful they got to go to the zoo with their cousins. And very thankful to Aunt Kim who bought tickets to the carousel.
6- Rick is thankful that the people on the airplane were so understanding when Brandt had to get up to go potty every 5 minutes and then threw up on the plane.
7- I am thankful that Rick took Brandt and Khyah early so I got a nice peaceful flight with London.
8- We are all thankful that it snowed. More thankful that it only snowed once. And most thankful that we got to go sledding. London keeps asking when it will snow here.
9- Rick is thankful that he got to play soccer with my family.
10- I am thankful I got to go shopping with my sister (it’s tradition after all), even if it was only at K-mart on Thanksgiving night to find formula (because we ran out).
11- London is thankful he got to play with all his cousins so much. He wishes we lived closer.
12- Khyah is thankful to have FINALLY met all her aunts and uncles (excepting Aunt Tiff and Uncle Rob, who I’m sure she is dying to meet) and that everyone held her all the time. (She misses that. As do I.)
13- Rick and I are extremely thankful that we made it home before London’s stomach bug hit in full force. And in conjunction with that, I am grateful for carpet cleaner, washing machines, and toilets.
14- Though I could go on like this a long time, because we have much to be thankful for, I will end with our biggest thanks. We are thankful for our family, their love and support, and the chance we had to spend some quality time with them. After all, where would we be without them?
And I can’t resist a Postscript: We’re thankful everyone thinks we live in an awesome place so they all want to come visit!
Poll results:
Even though 58% of those polled do NOT like cranberries, 90% reported serving them at Thanksgiving.
My interpretation of this data:
1. We’re tradition-driven.
2. We’re catering to the few.
3. You had leftovers of the cranberry sauce/relish/jelly (whatever you want to call it.)
4. This could very well be a snapshot of society-at-large. 😉
5. Cranberries just don’t taste very good.
6. We all gained weight over Thanksgiving . . . wait! That’s not related . . .
7. There is a conspiracy by cranberry growers to brainwash Americans into believing we MUST have cranberries at Thanksgiving.
Anyhow, these are just my biased, first-glance findings. Please share your own interpretation, I’d love to hear.
And as a little factoid, did you know that polls suggest that as many as 80% of Americans believe JFK’s assassination was a conspiracy? Important information, people. Right here.
Cranberries: A Poll
So I just spent the last hour serving Cranberry Sauce (though it looks more like Cranberry Jelly) in the cafeteria of London’s elementary school for their Thanksgiving dinner. I found it very interesting to see who took it and who didn’t. Here’s what I noted:
– Cranberry Sauce is an extreme dish, meaning that people either love it or hate it.
– On average, only about 1 in 10 people took it.
– Like or dislike had no apparent tie to ethnicity or culture (and there’s a broad range in London’s school).
– The universal sign for dislike is wrinkling up your nose.
Then suddenly I was curious about the whole cranberry phenomenon. Why do we always serve this dish at Thanksgiving dinner when only 1 in 10 people eat it anyway?
And having just asked, “Would you like Cranberry Sauce?” a hundred times or so in the cafeteria, I feel like I’ve already conducted a poll, so I thought, “Why not? I’ll put a poll on my blog!”
So here’s the question:
Cranberry Sauce: yes or no?
And as a follow-up:
Does your family include it as part of Thanksgiving?
Please weigh in on the issue (see sidebar poll). This is important stuff!
And just as a little tidbit about cranberries, did you know that cranberries are native to northeast North America? They grow from the mountains of Georgia to the Canadian Maritimes. And in 1620, the Pilgrims learned to use them from the Native Americans who used them as food, dyes, and medicines.
Now you’re smarter for having visited my blog. 🙂
Birthday Party!
Yesterday, I took Brandt shopping for gift bag goodies, plates, ice-cream, craft items, etc. He knew just what he wanted. No slipping in mom-preferred items with him. Before bed, we sorted foam Noah-the-ark (this is what I mean about not sticking to the theme) stickers together (the activity), and assembled the gift bags. He followed instructions very well, and was so proud.
Only three of the six invited guests were able to make it, but Brandt didn’t care. He was so excited and had a great time with his friends. We let the kids play for a while, then attempted to do games.
First, we played “Put the Chocolate in the Mouth” (aka “Pin the Tail on the Donkey”).
Not a huge success. They hated the blindfold, and other than Brandt (who TOTALLY cheated by peaking), refused to play. The moms played, though. (And as you can see, Brandt went back later and made sure the boy got ALL the chocolate. He was concerned)
Then we tried “Vanilla, Vanilla, Chocolate” (aka “Duck, Duck, Goose”).
Another failure. Two friends refused to play. Brandt insisted on being “it” every time, and his last friend insisted on chasing him every time (which I suppose worked out well).
Our last ditch effort was hitting the balloon over the streamer. That finally got some love. Even the baby loved that game.
Next we did the craft, and all the kids enjoyed sticking the foam stickers on the big foam sheets. I also pulled out the bath crayons (that I hid years ago after struggling to clean the lousy “easy-to-clean,” “just-rinse-it-off” mess). They worked extremely well on the foam, and the kids loved it. In fact, Brandt told us he wasn’t ready for cake because he was still coloring. . . . Never mind that he’s been talking of this chocolate cake for over a week. Never mind it’s the theme of the whole party. He’s still coloring. 
However, when we asked “Who’s ready for cake?” all the kids came running. We sang “Happy Birthday,” Brandt blew out the candles (for the second time), and we ate. And then, Brandt was so busy eating, he didn’t have time for his presents. Funny boy.
But all his friends were so proud of what they brought, and Brandt was so tickled with everything. He gave nice, sincere thank you’s to everyone. 
This is Brandt struggling to unwrap the newspaper present. Daddy couldn’t fnd the cute wrapping paper I bought (and in all fairness, neither could I).
Finally, Brandt passed out his specially designed gift bags (they’re supposed to look like chocolate bars), and was the first one to pull out his slinky. His only problem was deciding what to play with next. He spent the rest of the day rotating toys. And might I add, London was quite excited about Brandt’s gifts, too.
The party was very simple, but it was a hit. Brandt had fun, and we didn’t kill ourselves over-planning. Two important features.
Countdown
Okay, the countdown is on:
1 workday left for Rick before vacation.
3 days until Brandt’s birthday party. Theme: Chocolate Cake.
4 days until Rick, Brandt, and Khyah leave for Utah. Is it bad that I’m so excited?
6 days until London and I take off.
7 days until I get my hair cut. Hallelujah!
12 days until Thanksgiving.
13 days until Thanksgiving II. My pant button feels tight just thinking about it.
14 days until we come home.
15 days until our 8th Anniversary. And he still puts up with me!
17 days until Rick goes back to work. Aaaw, man!
42 days until Christmas.
47 days until Rick’s birthday.
48 days until London’s birthday.
49 days until 2010.
50 days until I start my New Year’s resolution to lose weight.
51 days until I abandon my resolution. Okay, neither of these are true. I fully intend to start dieting tomorrow. (I tell myself that every day!) 😀
132 days until my birthday. I can wait for that, though.
940 days until Rick finishes his residency. But who’s counting?
1750 days until all my kids are in school. Oh, wait! Did I say that out loud?
A Trip Downtown
Though there are a couple of downers (a.k.a. the cost of living), there are many (many, many, many) perks about living near DC. My favorite perk is the Smithsonian. If you drive into DC and get there right at 10:00 am, you can park on the street free for three hours. You have to get there right at 10:00 though.
London was out of school on Tuesday so we took a little drive downtown. Though I had gotten directions from a friend, and they seemed fairly easy, I was getting nervous about the parking aspect because it was 10:15 before we made it across the Potomac, and I had forgotten the GPS (which, for all of you west-coasters, can cause major anxiety out here for even the most directionally-inclined). Luckily, we got the last spot on the street (I kid you not), and I can tell you I breathed much easier after my flawless parallel parking job. That’s when the sheer joy of wandering the nation’s capitol with my kids kicked in.
So after London and Brandt debated the finer points of where to go first (“This way!” “No!” “Yes!” “No!” “Yes!” “No!” “Yes!” “No!” “Yes!” “No!” Etc.), I opted to go to the Natural History Museum. On the way, we saw an advertisement for Night at the Museum: the Smithsonian, and to save time I’ll just say London tested all my history knowledge by asking about Napoleon, the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, Betsy Ross, and well you get the picture. I must have passed the test because London finally said, “Wow, Mom, you even know more than me!”
In the museum, we went straight for the elevator, and after fighting a valiant fight to get to the 3rd floor, we finally settled for the 2nd. Turns out the 3rd is for employees only. Oops. But the 2nd floor was very cool.
The boys really enjoyed it. And I shouldn’t be so surprised about that.
We planned to go to the Aeronautical Museum next, but got sidetracked by “The Carousel on the Mall.” I gave London and Brandt the option: “We can get something to eat here, or we can ride the Carousel. But we can’t do both.” I’m sure it’s not hard to guess what they chose.
Our three hours were running out, so we headed toward the car and decided we had just enough time to go see the White House. London asked, “Is the President there?” I told him I didn’t know, but probably not. So he asked, “Where is he working then?” I told him I didn’t have the President’s schedule, so I didn’t know. London seemed rather disappointed.
The drive home was smooth except that Khyah cried the entire time (seriously). She had been perfect all morning, so I guess this was payback. 😉 But it was a fun little day trip. Definitely on our docket for future daytrips. Though we’re far from family, DC is a great place to be.
Stories of Gratitude
At Church, when a hymn starts, Brandt always wants to join in: “Me sing with you, Mommy!” And you’d better agree or he’ll keep asking till you do. And when you say “Okay!” Brandt opens a book and starts singing out. Nevermind that he doesn’t know the words. He just makes them up. Amazingly cute. And out of the blue, he’ll turn to me and say: “Mommy, do you know I love you?” Sweet boy.
London feels directly responsible for keeping Khyah happy. When we set her down and she starts to fuss, London will go lay down next to her and sing. He, too, makes up the words as he goes. Usually it’s something like this: ‘Khyah, don’t cryyy! Don’t CRyyyyyyyyy!!!! Don’t CRYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!! Cause we’ll keep you forever! Foreeeeeeever!!! FOREVER!!!!!!!!” And she loves it. Grandma and grandpa who could hear it over the phone thought it was pretty cute too.
We should have found the Hebrew word for “happy” to name Khyah. She is so happy. If she’s crying, it’s one of three things: dirty diaper, hungry, or tired. Of course she’ll squeal to let you know that she wants to be part of the family, too. She wants to be in the same room as the boys. And she’s just so pickin’ cute, that you have to pick her up when she throws her little smile at you. And she already has a favorite toy. Cute. Cute. Cute.
Rick had last Saturday off. Joyous occasion, since days off are so rare when on wards. The second time Khyah woke up that night, he zombied out of bed and offered to take her. I hedged, cause I know how tired he is, and that come morning, the boys are just as much a task master as his work. “Are you sure?” I asked. But he held out his arms, eyes squinting to stay open: “No! But you’d better take advantage while you can.” What a sweet man. And the big thing I really appreciate is that he never gets upset about the messy house when he gets home. I knew there was a good reason to be a sugar mama the first 8 months of London’s life. It has definitely paid off!
Okay, not the best picture of Rick, but it’s what I had. And it’s truthful . . . hand in the cheese . . . I don’t call him “mouse” for nothing.
Public Flogging!
A friend led me to Ray Rhamey who publicly flogs your first page for you. “Why not?” I thought, so I submitted mine, and today was the day. Feel free to check it out if you want. Weigh in, or simply read it if you prefer. Here’s the link.
Bust-A-Move!
Brandt begged to turn on the music, and London came running. I couldn’t help recording it. And for the record, these are their own moves. What crazy boys we have. But I love that they can let loose and bust-a-move! I hope you enjoy as much as I did. 🙂