Days 2017

Days 2017

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Real World Saturday

We're the genuine type.  What you see is what you get.  Unfortunately that usually means "boring", so that is why I feel like I haven't been posting as often as my grandkid-hungry parents would like me to.  In other words, if I don't have anything to say, I just don't post.

Well, when I got dressed this morning, after breakfast, I decided that it would be just as valuable to posterity for me to chronicle a typical Saturday morning at the Days.  Be forewarned, there will be dishes, fighting, uncombed hair, and some pretty cute kids.

I came downstairs hearing screaming from the two year old.  Upon investigation, I found that he had holed up in the office under the desk with Cooper's favorite football and refused to give it back. Cooper, the first one dressed, was getting more and more frustrated.
Cooper was in luck--right about then our neighbor Steve knocked on the door to return our volleyball that Mark had left at the church gym that morning.  Mark plays volleyball every Saturday morning at 7:30 with the fellas in the neighborhood--including the two men he serves in the bishopric with.  They have decided that it is a great stress reliever and also like it because there are less injuries and no fighting than the dreaded church basketball.  Mark is the shortest of the three (Bishop Peterson is 6 ft 6) but he loves it and is really pretty good.  He played in 9th grade and would have loved to play if his high school had had a team.  In other words, it's his dream come true even if it means he misses Saturday morning pancakes. 
Luke emerges from his hiding place and decides he'd trade for the volleyball.  I tell him it's almost bath time.  He tells me no.
I ventured into the kitchen, where the music was cranked up loud.  Leslie (groaned when I told her I was going to take her picture so I said it was okay if she wanted to hide her face.  Teenager!) was in there emptying the dishwasher and cleaning the pizza pan from the night before.  Mark and I had been on a date to the temple and she babysat.  Usually she is really good about cleaning up after dinner when she babysits, but she was pretty tired, having been up at 5 AM that morning to go to the temple herself with some friends.  So anyway, the kitchen was a disaster because there was nowhere to put breakfast dishes.  I'm excited to have two dishwashers again when we move.  (No extra cost.  Bam!)  So, I left her to it.
"Work in the in the afternoon" was a sing-songy, hard and fast rule in our house growing up.  I came up the stairs to remind these two that they needed to get dressed and get going.  All the kids were supposed to get their rooms cleaned by lunch.  Boston is mostly playing with Legos because he knows about how long the cleaning job will take and he likes to bring it right down to the wire.  Macy is bugged because Boston claims he is cleaning and won't let her play with the thing she just "built".  (She stuck a propeller onto something Boston had already built.)

"It's not fair.  I never get to play with Legos!"  She didn't like the idea that she could just play with them as soon as Boston and Cooper went to school, every day.  And the tears continued.  As soon as she heard Boston tell Luke that as soon as his room was clean he was going to build a fort, she was hopping mad.  "Why does he always get all the good pillows when he builds a fort?  I never get to build a fort!"  I reminded her that A. she could build a fort whenever she wanted, especially when the boys were at school, and B. that nobody was building a fort until their room was clean, but that didn't stop her from hoarding a bunch of pillows in her room just in case Boston got to them first.  Which caused a war, of course.  Sigh.  PS. By dinnertime they were playing forts together, happily. 
Mark came home about then.  He had already been to play volleyball, came home, showered, suited up, and conducted at a baptism that morning.  (I had made pancakes, showered, issued orders and broken up fights.)  He announced that after changing he was going to go help some new neighbors unload some lumber that they are planning to finish their basement with.  Cooper's ears perked up and he volunteered to come help.  (Earlier this week Boston got to help Mark help some clients move impromptu, and in the process earned a Happy Meal, causing much weeping and wailing from Son #2.  Today was a chance to even the score.)
Well, Son #3 heard Dad say the magic word--"Go", and Cooper ask the magic question, "Can I come?" with an affirmative answer, so Luke (finally bathed and dressed) dropped whatever he was doing and scrambled for his shoes.  "I ahna come TOO!  I ahna come TOO!"  We've recently decided that "too!" is the most powerful word in his vocabulary because it opens the possibility for him to do whatever he sees anyone else doing or getting, even if he doesn't know what it is or how to pronounce it.
I tell Cooper he isn't allowed to go anywhere or do anything until his room is clean.  It was already pretty close, but he went in to polish it off.  Before I came in with the camera, Cooper accused Boston of tossing toys onto his "side".  I offered to take a picture to prevent any such deviousness.  In this shot, Boston and Cooper are showing the line of demarcation.
Back downstairs, Luke was enraged to find out that he was not, in fact, going to be allowed to come "too", so I turned on some cartoons to distract him.  It calmed him down, but then he just wanted to play with cars and I guess, listen to the music of the cartoons in the background because he wouldn't let me turn it off even though he totally was not watching it.  I guess this is much preferable to him watching and not playing at all, right?

I finally tackle the rest of the dishes now that no one is fighting and Leslie's portion of cleanup is finished.  She retreated to the showers and then to her room for homework (she always claims it's homework, but I think she is mostly hiding from the hooligans) until lunch.
Cooper is all ready to go help Mark, so he runs outside to play an imaginary game of football while he waits for departure.  His favorite place is the backyard, with some sort of ball.  It's been a football for several months now.  He's convinced that he wants to be a pro football player when he grows up.  We've tried to warn him that it might be a painful career, but then he retorts that he's had lots of surgeries already, what does he care?
Now that I've started on lunch, Macy and Boston creep downstairs to investigate.  (I think Boston wanted to know if it was worth cleaning his room for since he knows darn well "you don't work, you don't eat".)  In this picture Boston is not encouraged by what he sees, even though I thought it was absolutely gorgeous in my new giant mixing bowl that Mark got me for Christmas.  He says that the chicken looks alright but, "do I have to eat the cucumbers??"  Macy informs me that it will be pretty much impossible to get her room all the way clean by lunchtime.  I tell her to go make her bed, clean up 45 items and take a quick break.  (With her, I can't just tell her to go fast or else--she freaks out.  She does much better with a foreseeable goal and small chunks.) 

 Boston decided he was hungry and realized that besides lunch, he wasn't going to get any screen time until his job was done.  He got finished up and came downstairs and asked me to come inspect.  I told him I was too busy cooking.  He said, "Can't I just take a picture and prove it?"  I laughed and said, fine.  Well, he took more than a picture.  This is Boston's room inspection video.  (I did make him go back and fix a few things.)  I thought it was pretty hilarious, even though there are some large gaps in the middle when he set down the IPod and a lot of jerking and shaking.  I also think it's funny that the "clean room" still shot of the video is focused on his super messy bookcase.  It's all relative, I guess.
That Mom.  Just when you think all your work is done, she always remembers that you haven't practiced yet.  Huff.
Lunch is ready.  It's called, "Talk of the Town Pasta", from the 13th Ward Cookbook.  I haven't made it for a long time.  Maybe I'll share the recipe later.
Boston finally got done with all his work--and it was time for him to set the table.  He negotiated with Macy to trade jobs because she likes to set the table, and her chore for the week was to play with Luke while I am cooking and doing dishes, and he was about to play with Luke, anyway.  I should mention here that Macy's room did not get all the way clean.  It's always pretty bad.  Lots of snips of paper, backs of stickers, broken crayons, books, clothes, etc.
Boston is wanting to play Disney Infinity on the Wii, and Luke wants to play "too".  (He's too little.) Boston is supposed to be playing with Luke for his chore, so here he is trying to decide what to do.  This is not a posed picture.  The conundrum is solved by the return home of Mark and Cooper, so it is time to eat, anyway.
Mark and Cooper show off their work gloves, after a job well done.  Cooper didn't get a happy meal but Mark did manage to swing a candy bar for him.
Once everyone was up to the table nicely, this one started screaming and demanding his milk and a nap.  I didn't want him to go down for another hour at least.  He wouldn't even stop screaming to get to pick who was going to say the prayer.  We compromised by letting him eat his lunch on the big chair instead of at the table.  He was not going to touch the pasta salad with a ten foot pole, but I knew that going in and was prepared with a couple of taquitos.  (He'd already finished an apple, eating it from the bottom up.  He always gets upset when the pulp at the bottom is sticking out and there is no more apple to bite but by the stem at the top.  Pretty entertaining.)
Well, I hope everyone is sitting comfortably in their Saturday morning superiority, but that's how it rolls at our house.  All in all I think it went pretty well.

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