Woodchuck for Dinner

Our oldest son had been noticing some woodchuck damage and decided to do something about it.  Last year we had such an infestation of various rodents so he wanted to make sure he had an early start.

He caught one on the first day after setting his auction buy trap.

I knew then that I would have to "adjust" our weekly menu.

All the boys have been waiting to eat woodchuck (or groundhog - but the word groundhog makes me bitter because he said that it would be an early spring and it is supposed to SNOW this weekend.).  Friends I shall leave unmentioned (but drive a blue bus because their family is so large - 16 kiddos from one mama and one daddy and only one set of twins) had assured our boys it was tasty.

As they are known as being tricksters, I was slightly leery.

The school called as S1 was headed back to the house withe the rodent and I had to run in to get S2, who was feeling sickly.  I was so in shock over the fact that I was actually going to be making woodchuck for dinner that I had to share this information with the school secretary.  Oddly, she didn't seem shocked.  I think this should concern me.  

S2 arrived home to watch S1 cut up the meat.  I was quite thankful that crock pot liners have been invented because they were surely being used on this meal.

We had been told that cream of mushroom soup would make the meat more tender, so we added that as well.  

It wasn't looking very tasty.

However, every single time I get a chicken ready to bake I swear I am not eating one because I think they look so disgusting but I keep making them for dinner and we keep eating them.  So I wasn't so quick to judge.

The longer it cooked, well, it didn't smell very good either.  We kept waiting for a good cooking scent, but it never happened.

When I drove into our little hometown to pick up yet another sick boy (it's been a rough week, but we can't blame the woodchuck, it hadn't been eaten yet), I stopped to talk to Alicia at my amazing work place, the heart of our town, the library.

"There's a woodchuck in my crock pot," I told her.

"What?" she spit out.

I repeated what I said.  "That's what I thought you said but I didn't want to believe you," she answered, shaking her head.

When I arrived home, the woodchuck wasn't smelling any better.

I started frying bacon.  Bacon always smells wonderful. Waffles and bacon had never sounded so delicious for dinner.

The meat cooked up dark, nearly black.  My husband began to get a little hopeful. "Bear meat is black and it is some good eating," he told us.  He began dreaming up plans if it tasted as good as prime rib and how we would raise the woodchucks, becoming a woodchuck farm, hitting the jackpot on an untaped market and the recipes I could sell and the money we could make.

All the boys started asking for me to make them a waffle.

But S1, bless his heart, cut up pieces for everyone and was sure that with Sweet Baby Ray's, anything can be tasty.

He was mistaken.

"All this hard work for it to taste this bad!" he moaned dejectedly. 

And it was bad bad.  So bad that when they cleared the table, they wouldn't even give the leftovers to the chickens.  That is bad, folks.

I was ever so thankful for that crock pot liner!

S1 emailed the Visser's the people who told us it would taste good, and they told us you have to boil woodchuck first and then cook it.

It's going to take a little while to get over this, but I am pretty sure that we are going to be trying this meal again.

Lucky us.

I would like to add that days later, they are still bemoaning the fact the woodchuck tasted so tough and terrible.  My husband still laments, "If it only it had tasted good, think of the money we could have made!"

This, people, is my life.

I cannot make it up.

What I Learn At Dinner Time

Dinner times are always interesting.  Even when they are boring dinners, I can usually walk away with something new I've learned about the boys.

Okay, I guess we don't have boring dinner times.

Tonight we were talking about mail and mail delivery and S3 asked us what days WE get mail.  "Every day. Except Sundays." Jake and I said in unison.

S2 began to snicker.

S3 nearly spit out his food - and that is saying something because he literally took half the pan of fried potatoes for himself at dinner tonight.  I think he has hit a growth spurt. 

S1, being the eldest and wisest and most knowledgable, felt he should explain.  "If you had been S3 and S4, they would be saying 'jinx' to each other.  And they have their own jinx saying."

S3 began laughing hysterically, hardly able to speak as he rattled off so quickly I am not even sure if I am typing it correctly..."Jinx, double jinx, triple jinx, rainbow jinx, you can't go pee or talk for the rest of the day until someone says your name five times."

"What?' Jake asked.

"It's just something we made up.  I learned it at school," S3 explained.  "I learned to be real good at jinxing people."

"Well," Jake said, "I'm glad you are learning something good at school."

"Yah!" S3 agreed emphatically, happy someone understood the importance of what he has learned, "I mean, otherwise I would have to learn something not important like, like, like multiplication.  Yuck!  This is better."

And that's when my husband broke out into song, "There is no good in an evil hearted woman..." and S1 joined in, Word. For. Word.

The conversation went back to what they thought was important to learn at school versus what they actually have to learn at school.  That was interesting...

Dinner was ending and so I said, "Boys, you all need a shower tonight."  They are on mid-winter break and they feel that means a break in bathing, I have noticed.

Groans all around from all the boys and then my very supportive husband said, "I've heard it said and it's probably true...."

"Husband!" I warned him, to no avail, as it never is every time he does this.  The boys were all snickering.  They know the drill.

He continued. "That too much bathing..." he paused and the boys joined in, "It will weaken you."

I rolled my eyes, as I always do, and the boys all began to laugh.  "You don't want us to be weak, Mama!" they declared.

I gave up.  Seriously, when I am going against five of them I have to pick my battles.  And they were arguing they bathed two days ago and that should be good enough.

But after they were done clearing the table (which involves numerous wrestling matches, who knew?) they marched off to the shower to "get weak."

In case you don't know why they would begin singing "There is no good in an evil hearted woman", here is the song....or you can just ask my boys to sing it word for word.  Not anything they learned in school but feel they should have.

Daddy is Challenged

Dinner conversations are the best at our house.  I often wish we could record them so I can look back one day and relive them.  When they are great, they are really great.

Take tonight for example.

Jake had been gone overnight and I was gone at football practice for S2 and I told him that tonight for dinner was chicken and rice.

He doesn't like rice.

I was pretty happy when he took a second helping of rice.  I mentally was thinking how often I could add this dinner to our weekly meal plan because it was easy and yummy.

"You took off your hat," Jake mentioned to me as I mixed the rice and chicken.

"I wore it to keep the sun out of my eyes," I explained and then glanced at him, "Did you like me in my hat?"

"You looked cute."

I beamed.  Him telling me I look cute always makes me feel a bit like Bambi when he takes flying off for the first time after being called cute.

But then there was silence.  I glanced over at him.  "You were being sarcastic, weren't you?"

He nodded.  "This," he worked his eyes over my too big tshirt and work out shorts, "Is not your best look."

I fumed.

"But," he added, "This dinner is good."

S4 dramatically cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.  "Daddy, you are challenged with mama."

Jake began to laugh.  "Is that so?"

"Yes," S4 continued, "We had to go to the gas station to get some gas in the truck and mama was on the phone and this man was just looking at her and looking at her and looking at her."

"And she looked like this?" my husband exclaimed incredulously.

"She was in her purple dress," S4 continued, "And I wanted to tell him not to look at her anymore cuz you would be mad!"

S2 added, "He drove away and just kept looking at her."

"Why didn't you tell him to stop?" Jake asked.

"If you want us to race after him and tell him that our mama is not no widow and stop looking at her, we will," S3 informed him.

Jake laughed.  "Well, you better."

"So you are challenged, Daddy, you better take care of mama," S4 added.

My theory?  Who wouldn't be looking at woman pulling into a gas station with a loud hillbilly looking truck of which the bed is filled with bikes and the cab is filled with boys.  Especially when said woman steps out of said rusty old dodge with a dress and heels.  That just screams a fun story, I think. Personally.

And that is my life.

And just one conversation at dinner tonight.

Summer Insanity

Last night my honey took all four boys to go get some firewood for us.  He asked me if I wanted to go along.  And then he laughed.  I think he spotted the twitch in my eye and sensed the excitement that soundly coursed through me.  "Home? Alone? You would take all the boys and let me stay home? Alone?"

He loaded up all the boys and headed out.  I grinned like a wild woman.  I flitted from one room to the other not knowing where to spend my precious alone time.  Do I clean the kitchen?  Do I take a nap...oh how tired I am?  Do I read one of the books I have stacked by the bed and the computer desk? Do I watch the movie waiting for me to watch for two weeks now?

But I knew what I had to do...blog.  I have missed it more than I have missed about anything else this summer.  

Well, blogging and walking the track at school every morning when I dropped the boys off at school all those weeks ago.

So this is what we have been up to...

Cooking.

I have cooked so much lately to keep my boys fed - how much they can eat is insane - that my cupboard has given out on me, crashing down on itself.  This requires me to do some rearranging.  Because I can not - at all - give up one of those cookbooks or printed recipes.

Cooking so much means I have spent a lot of time at the grocery store.  Taking all four boys to the store is a trip.  Good grief, they want EVERY bit of food.  They ask me a million times, "Mama, can we get this?'  Recently, in the ice cream isle, S4 asked, 'Hey, Mama..." for the 1,000th time in a five minute span.

I felt myself slipping into that insane place mother's go.  They get there by their name being called too many times in a row.  It flips a switch in their brain that makes them cower in a corner crying for someone else to come take over.

"What? What? What? What do you want now??????" I  quietly wailed.  It was hardly a peep, more an escaped thought.  There in the ice cream isle I caught a glimpse of my reflection.  My hands were tangled in my hair, massaging the headache that doesn't go away.  My eyes were wild with craziness.

S4 looked at me oddly for a moment.  But only a moment.  "Can we get ice cream?" he asked.

To save myself from having a melt down in the ice cream isle, I said yes.

They are getting to me, these boys.

We have been spending a lot of time at the library as well.

Getting to work the same days the kids programs are is really grand because the boys never miss a single library event.  And all should know by now just how much I love the library.  If you look very very very closely, you can see S1 is holding something. 

A ground squirrel.

Now, when the boys go out to play at the library, Alicia and I find ourselves saying - oftentimes now in unison - "Stay together. Do not try to catch anything. Do not get bit. Do no catch anything.  Did you hear me?  Do not bring any animals into the library.  And stay together."

I don't think they hear us.

When we are home, the boys are catching "things".

This is One Eye Toad.  He is called this because he has one eye.  He lives on our front porch and I don't know how old frogs get but he is pretty old.  We look for him every year for a few years now, always relieved when we find him.  One Eye is never allowed to live anywhere but the porch.  The boys know, this is Mama's toad, it never can live in the sandbox or with the other things.

Other things?

Oh, you know, like five snakes.....

Originally, we purchased the large water tank for baby chicks.  The baby chicks grew up grandly in that water tank lined with sawdust.  And when we moved the tank out back for future chicks, the boys got to thinking how grand a place it would be to house some "critters".  

Like reptiles.

So it is currently the home to five snakes (there were six, but they made their favorite snake (how does one even get to have a FAVORITE snake?) a "home" in the sand box, where it slithered away.  Probably to live somewhere far far far away from boys.), a snapping turtle (a little one) and too many frogs to count.

Due to the drought we are experiencing here in this part of the state, the swamp where all these frogs were caught has dried up.  The boys now feel it is their duty to keep these frogs alive for future generations of frogs.

At least they don't live on the porch anymore.

And when the boys are playing in the sandbox making those beaver habitat's, they are in the woods building forts they would like to move into.

It is quite obviously a safe place to sleep the night in.  Mama just keeps saying no for some reason.  

Silly Mama.

So that, dear friends, is what we have been up to.  On our slow days.  

I forewent a nap to share this with you.  That's how much I have missed you all.  Hope your summer is going grandly too, and you are not insane yet.  Tell me what you have been up to! Link your favorite posts! I am so behind in reading up on posts right now as well. 

Special thanks to my hubby who gave me some free time and didn't complain when all i did was type away at a computer screen.  I love you!

Surprise! We Are Gonna Have a Baby!

Friday, after our adventurous day at work, I returned home and got the mail.

I received this box.

Apparently Similac has heard we are expecting a new baby.

Which is as much news to me as it is to you.....and to my husband.

My husband who had not yet seen the box.

And my evil plan was birthed.

At the dinner table, I set the box on his plate, covered it with a dish towel (remember my post about getting remarried? Yah, here is one of those un-photographed dish towels, much to my embarrassment.) and waited for his arrival home.

I giggled with anticipation all night because, well, I have a rather vivid imagination and I could imagine his reaction.

It was going to be grand.

The fact that after S4's arrival we made sure that there was NO way we would have another bouncing baby boy added to my hilarity.

Well, that and it had snowed that day so I may have gone from depression over the snow to giddy at hearing it may reach sixty degrees on Sunday.

I wanted S1 to video his reaction.  S1 did not understand my silliness.  He assumed it was because Daddy hated the taste of whatever the drink was in the box.  This made me laugh even more.

When my unsuspecting husband walked in, he seen the dinner plate and smiled big.  He loves to get surprises. I was nearly jumping up and down at this point.

He lifted the towel before S1 could get the camera.

"What in the world........." was all he could mutter.

His face was one of shock.  And then confusion. And then he looked at me as I began laughing hilariously.  "Similac thinks we are having a baby!" I laughingly explained.

"Humph" was his reply.  Then, "Hey, what is for dinner?"

Not quite the huge reaction I had hoped for but fun all the same.

But all night he would say, "Can you imagine having another one now?"

To which I would shake my head and say, "No.  No I can not imagine having another."

This story was made even better because Sunday we found that our friends from church, Wes and Karen, are having Baby #16 in October.  Yes, they are all theirs.  There is one set of twins, a zillion boys and four girls (2 of which are the twins).

I think I will give the similac to them because we so do not need it.

Family Dinner

When the boys came home from school yesterday, they gobbled up...

Homemade chocolate chip cookies

Brownies

Bananas

I worried they might have spoiled their dinner appetite.

Last night for dinner I made.....

A large pot roast.

FIVE POUNDS of mashed potatoes.

A full bag of carrots, peeled and cooked with the roast and sprinkled with brown sugar.

Two cans of green beans with bacon.

A tube of Pillsbury buttermilk biscuits.

Long after the roast had been devoured, the boys were still asking for more.  They literally scraped the carrot bowl clean.  They fought over the last roll (I never even ate one).  When dinner was done, there was half a can of beans and just enough mashed potatoes to barely top the casserole we will be having later this week.

How on earth am I ever going to keep feeding these boys?

At Dinner Last Night....

...we heard this story from S4, who is five, in preschool and going to one day take over the world.

"A boy stole Anica's gum today."

I gave him the appropriate gasp of horror I knew he needed.

"Yes, we were standing in line waiting to go outside and Anica pointed to him and told me that he had just stolen her gum and he was chewing it. His name was Andrew."

We all looked to S1. "It wasn't me!" he cried defensively.

It took much figuring and guessing but we got it figured out who the mean gum stealer was.

A seventh grader.

"What did you do?" I asked, assuming they told the teacher.

"I stared him and did not stop looking at him so he knew I knew he took Anica's gum. Me and Elizabeth and Anica, we gave him that mean look so he knows to be scared."

Can you imagine the sight?

Three preschoolers staring down a seventh grader?

How I would have loved to have seen that!

I have a funny feeling that tomorrow,

when we go back to school,

that seventh grader is gonna get pointed out.

Serves him right!

I Want This Moment to Last....Like for Another Hundred Years

One night as dinner was ending, I turned to see S4 sitting on S1's lap.

So I took a picture.

And I hope I can capture a million more moments like this.

Cuz I don't wan them to end.

Moma Said the "S" Word....and Got Tattled On

We have words we do not say in this house. We just don't want the boys to swear. I've heard that swearing is a lazy man's talk...you need to be able to come with better strong descriptive words.

And there is some slang we let go. Heck, they're boys. Let 'em have slang, I say!

But the "s" words....we don't ever say those.

Except the other morning when I got really mad at the dogs and I said "the s word" at them as I shoved them out the door.

The boys eyes were wide in horror.

But they never said a word.

That evening as the boys were wrestling in the living room, their loud shrieks turned to complete silence and then "Don't tell! Don't tell! Don't tell!" by S3.

S2 told.

S3 had said "The S Word".

Ug.

I took S3 in my arms and gave him a hug. "Sometimes we just make mistakes and we feel so awful for it, like I know you feel now. I said "The S Word" today too...."

"You did?" Apparently, he was the only one who had not heard me say this as I seen the complete shock register on his face.

I shook my head sadly. "I did. And I felt so awful about it. I don't ever want to say that again. Will you forgive me?"

He hugged me. "Yup!"

Suddenly I was being hugged by all the boys and they were all telling me they forgave me.

It really was a beautiful moment.

We had a chat about how awful we feel and we should remember how awful we feel at this moment to help us not say bad words again.

Then I went back to making dinner and they went back to playing until Daddy arrived home.

When Daddy arrived home, the little tattle tails ran full force for their Daddy.

"Guess what? Guess what? Guess what? Moma said a bad word today!" S3 grinned triumphantly.

Where was that beautiful moment we had all shared just recently?

"She did?" he chuckled. "What did she say?"

"The S word," S2 gravely informed him.

Husband's eyes twinkled as he tried to get my attention. "You really said that?"

All the boys stared at me, waiting to admit my awful word swearing.

I nodded. "I did."

"I can't believe you did that!" he declared. He wrapped me in a big bear hug. He was so happy with my saying "the S word" I wondered if he secretly wished I did swear. "What 'S' word did she say?"

S4 shook his head vehmintely. "I don't want to even say."

"S and then H," S2 let him know.

"Moma!" he got on to me, all stern like with a big grin on his face. Then he whispered, "You really said that in front of the boys?"

"I did," I admitted in a quiet whisper. "I was mad at the dogs and told them to shut up when I put them outside."

Husband then nearly fell to the ground laughing but caught himself and said gravely, "Yes, that IS a bad word. I hope you learned your lesson, Moma."

I grinned. And then sent the little tattlers out to set the table.

Family Dinner Conversations

Just the title should tell you this post will be...interesting.

This weekend, the boys borrowed the movie Garfield from our neighbors. They had never seen this movie before and were completely enthralled with it. I did not watch it, but being the wonderful mother I am I did let them watch it two or three or so times so I could finish the book I was reading. Yes, I am that kind of mother.

All day Sunday the boys were talking in lines of the movie. They would spout out some weird something and I would wonder what I missed and the other with would answer with something else that made no sense to me and then another would laugh and say how great that was....and then I would realize it was the movie they were quoting.

Well, somehow this got S1 talking about a Garfield comic he had read recently that mentioned Jon wanting to write a love letter to his girlfriend and he was going to describe her as his favorite foods.

That's all it took.

The boys love lasagna, hot dogs, pancakes, pizza, etc.

Just imagine.

They were attempting to put it all together in some beautiful sort of poetry to impress a girl.

There were many shrieks of laughter.

I need not worry about them getting a girlfriend any time soon.

Thank goodness.

Then my husband turned to me, cleared his throat dramatically and began with "Your lips are red like ripe tomatoes......"

In the words of Lucy from Peanuts, "Good Grief!"

Moma Fail

I haven't had Internet for a few days and Sue and I are frantically working to bring you a huge exciting magazine that is lovely and would be wonderful if a certain someone (me) would finish her article.....

So I'm blogging instead.

It makes sense.

Today I did not wake up when my hubby did. Somehow I slept through all the alarms and him kissing me goodbye and when he did he mentioned that the bread we had just bought had gone moldy.

And I heard that and fell asleep.

And them my boys got up and made sandwiches (because they like to, I want to stress this) and they used the moldy bread. They didn't realize this until they got to school and were eating lunch and then they brought it to the lunch lady who quickly snatched it away from them and made a new sandwich for them.

Moma fail.

I'll be sending a thank you note and I am sure they'll be investigating their lunch for awhile.

So they came home and tell me this and I am mortified and then we head out to the library (more on the desperate library run next time) and came home to make dinner and all those boys were fighting and crying and pushing and yelling....they were told to clean the yard because it looks like a junk yard of their stuff and they decided to throw walnuts and huge mushrooms they found in the woods at each other instead.

The stuff I asked them to pick up, you know their toys? Like the little play pool? They hung it in a tree. I'm not kidding! I told them it looked trashy in the yard so they HUNG IT IN A TREE! I'll try to get a picture of it tomorrow for you all.

Then at dinner, we had the news on and "crossbow" was said and it was as though a radar went off over S1's head. He turned his head, high alert, to watch the news. This meant he craned his neck to an inhuman bend. At the same time, his brother at the other end of the table asked for the rice and S1 of course did not hear him. I hollered his name, he jumped knowing he was busted and tried to pass something on to S4 hoping it was correct. It was not. In his rush, he spilled his drink.

So they were told they were going to be early.

All of them.

S4 told me this was okay. Because at eight o clock the frogs come out. And there is a frog that lives in their bedroom window that they have to talk to every night. "I like frogs," he announced.

"Do you like flies?" my husband asked as he swatted the swarm that hovered over our food.

"No," he answered quickly, "I like frogs because they eat flies."

He's fast, that one.

So, to end with, I sent all the boys to bed super early tonight even if they did make me laugh a bit. And I don't feel the least bit guilty. Well, maybe a little.

But not too too bad because tomorrow I am working with Sue, we are cooking food and at night, at NIGHT we are meeting David Baldacci...whom I have never read before but I won the tickets off Twitter from Grand Rapids Magazine and Kent District Library. That, dear readers, is going to make a wonderful blog to read later this week. Now, I have an article to write and a 469 page book to read. Tonight. So I am not a dork about not knowing what he has written. Instead I'll just be that exhausted mom at a fancy country club......

(ps, sorry if you read this with all the misspellings, I was writing and talking to my husband at the same time. Another fail.)

I Gave Birth to You Why??

Family Dinners.

They are one of the key parts of family time. I learn more about my boys days and how they think during family dinners than most any other time.

Yes, wonderful bonding times they are.

Which is why I attempt to make good meals. I mean, if you have to eat it you might as well make it good. I have never figured out how to make food look pretty, I appreciate pretty food but when I know that my super big eater husband and always starving sons are going to pretty much inhale it, I just try to make it taste as good as I can.

Saturday I worked in the kitchen from nine am until five thirty pm. I took one break, to run to the store for some ingredients (and I forgot ONE KEY INGREDIENT and my hubby ran to the store to get it for me...how sweet, yes? Well, this is also the same man who brought in a bunch of tomatoes for me to can once I "chop chop"ed on getting all the cooking done. But he does have his super sweet moments too.....) but otherwise I made French toast for breakfast, chili and from scratch corn bread for dinner (and when I say chili, I mean I peeled every tomato in that chili) and stew for Sunday. A brand new stew recipe that says it would take all of 35 minutes to whip up. Yah, RIGHT. If you had all those ingredients canned or frozen maybe! Good night! I spent HOURS peeling and cutting. However, the smells are wonderful wafting through out the house. Also in this long day I made cookies for the boys and a cake for after dinner. Oh, and I have all the breakfast ingredients ready to go for the crock pot oatmeal I'm trying for the first time.

I was feeling pretty Pioneer Womanishly.

Until my corn bread turned out runny. And the boys informed me that they like tomatoes, but they just don't like them in my chili.

I stayed calm.

Until Husband informs the boys that we are having DELICIOUS STEW after church tomorrow. He is all excited to eat this yummy food because most of the stuff we grew. And he loves stew.

"Really?" S1 asked excited, "Where are we going for dinner?"

Yes, he really said that.

I looked at him as though he was not my own, this oldest child I have given birth to and cared for and FEED for ELEVEN years......

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

He never caught the tone in my voice, the snickering of his father or the glare in my eye. "Well if it's super delicious stew, are we going somewhere for dinner?"

My dear Husband couldn't stand it anymore, being the patient man that he is. He slapped his hand good naturedly on the table and said "No, Son, your Moma has been making it All. Day. Long!"

"Ohhhhhhh"....S1 was beginning to realize his grave mistake, and that his every meal came from the one and only Moma he has who is giving him a "choose your words wisely, boy" look.

"Oh," he continues, "Oh, I am sure it will be good because Moma, you are a really good cook."

He was layering it on thick. He was giggling and begging all at the same time.

His brothers even caught on.

"Yah, Moma", S4 continued, "You are the goodest cook. I just don't like this chili cuz of the chili but your cookin is good."

Phew, glad that is all cleared up.

I think they will gladly devour the crock pot oatmeal breakfast I am making for the first time tonight for tomorrow when they wake up in the morning.

I think even if I burn this stew and make the buttermilk biscuits out to be charcoal (honest, it could happen.), they will say it is the best dinner ever.

As they should after this full day in the kitchen!

Well, maybe they can tell me it's bad if they follow it with a kiss on the cheek, some hugs and no complaining while they clear the table and do the dishes.

Maybe.

We Are Gonna Starve

Tonight, as dinner was cooking, I told the older two boys to clear the table and the younger two to pick up the living room. The table was still strewn with papers and dishes from this morning and the syrup container from our breakfast of pancakes. The boys brought home the newest brochures of things for them to sell for the school and they were strewn from hither to yon.

Dinner was nearly done. I needed coffee, desperately. And I was not in a mood to be toyed with. The boys had spent the whole afternoon watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (because I have found them to be exhausted come Thursday, but Mickey Mouse Clubhouse? Really? I'd take a hunting show over that!) and when I said "move", I expected them to "move".

They didn't.

By this time Daddy was home and Daddy seen the boys not moving on their chores and Daddy and Moma heard when S3 stepped on the matchbox car on the messy living room and fell to the ground crying and holding his foot.

S4 was mumbling at him and playing with his beloved car, making sure it was still in tact when Moma stormed in.

Oh, I stormed.

And I promptly sent them up to bed, to stay on their beds and not come down until I said so.

Mean Moma.

Daddy couldn't resist, he had to hear what they were saying.

And then he gave me a play by play. S4 began blaming S3 for stepping on his car and getting them in this mess. "You shoulda not cried" he explained.

S3 bemoaned the fact that his foot hurt.

S4 began to sniffle. "Now we won't get to eat dinner. And I am hungry. We are gonna starve and then I'll DIE!" He began to wail.

Big brother came to the rescue here. "No", S3 informed him, "We won't starve for three days. We can go three days without food. A big kid on the playground told me so it has to be true!"

S4 wasn't buying it. "But I am hungry and I will starve THIS DAY!" He then began bemoaning the fact that it was all his brothers fault that he was going to starve and die.

He is such a positive little fellow.

There was more discussion and it wasn't long before they realized they needed water more than food so S3 was brave and came sneaking down the steps.

And I, oh yes blog readers, with a very firm voice and straight face, told him to get back up those steps and not come down again, they didn't need water.

And then I might have maybe giggled as they were sure their fate was doomed.

Now, keep in mind, while this is going on the table is getting set by the older two boys in lightning time. The entire time the two little guys were upstairs was - at the most - 15 minutes.

But they were going to starve, they were sure.

Daddy did a good job of setting them straight, informing them they need to listen to their Moma and then they sulked down the steps where a barely holding the giggles in Moma was given a soulful apology, given kisses on the cheek and they sat silently waiting for their dinner.

After dinner they were able to dine on Sugar Cookies. And now they are watching a John Deere movie on how to grow food - just in case, you know.

Camping Trip 2, The Food - the End

When my mom and I got asked about what we were looking forward to camping, we both agreed it was the food.

And now that we are home, we get asked what our favorite part of camping was and we still roll our eyes, get a dreamy look and longingly say "the food".

Let me explain.

Here is exhibit A. Hubby got me this spider legged camping Dutch oven for my birthday just before we left. This was my first time using it. I made peach cobbler and ice cream...the ice cream was just cream. Really, I can make GREAT ice cream...just not when we are camping. Next time, I am just throwing a gallon of vanilla in the freezer for camping.

Anyhow, this cobbler was supposed to take 45 minutes to take by using seven coals under it and eleven coals on it's lid in a checkerboard pattern. My brother - who spent a summer in the state of Wyoming as a guide for hunt trips and well acquainted with cooking in campfires - told me to stick it in coals and pile them on top. But I tried it the book way.

And then I tried it my brothers way.

It took SEVEN hours to get this made...but had we made it my brothers way it would have probably taken just an hour.

I told everyone to they had better like it even if it was awful. They all claimed it was wonderful. Then I didn't know if I believed them. But I had some, and it WAS good.

We tried Oreo S'mores because they were suggested to us. (Tara, this picture is for you.) If one needed a chocolate fix, this would be their s'more.

We don't usually eat S'mores when camping. I'll eat one and then be good for the summer. But we ate at least one of these a night, I'm pretty sure. And since we made it home, I have maybe had one or three or so. The secret, reece's peanut butter cups. Ohhhhhhhh, I may need (another) today.

I will print this picture and look at it in winter to remind me of summer campfires.

This is my brother. He's making breakfast in this picture but he was the brilliant one of us who said "Why don't you bring a grill when you go camping?' and we all looked at eachother and thought, "Why not indeed?" He shook his head in wonderment that we girls survive camping at all and brought his grill.

Then he had an even MORE brilliant idea to have us just chip in a bit of money and he would make ALL OUR MEALS. My mom and I nearly fainted. ALL our meals?

My brother is a very very very very very very very very very very good cook. That may be an UNDERstatement. Honest.

I kid you not, S3 and S4 were sure by the end of camping that their Moma and Oma did not know how to cook at all and if Uncle left, they would surely have to survive on marshmallows alone.

We. Ate. So. Well. I could never ever thank my brother enough!

And here is the thing about camping with my mom and my brother and my sister in law and Egirl and Jr and my boys....it's family. And family like that is wonderful.

I rarely get a chance to hang out with my brother. I see his wife every Thursday and Friday but rarely my brother and it was so nice to just spend time with him. He is a hoot. If I could write the way he tells a story...oh my, I shake my head because I'm not even sure how to put it into words. He is that great of a story teller.

And it's nice to be sitting at the campfire, watching my boys sort their tackle boxes and I say "You know what plastic worms make me think of?" And he chuckles and says "I was just thinking the same thing!" and that's all we have to say.

Camping with family means you aren't worried about making a good impression...no, we've all seen eachother at our very worst and our very best, and we just love eachother.

Camping with my family is the best. The very very very best.

I leave you with a picture and story of the beach. My husband is not a beach person AT ALL. But when we camp our day is breakfast, pack lunch, beach, campsite, shower and then do it all over again. We beach bum it every day. It's so splendid and summer perfect! Husband can't handle this.

But this particular weekend the humidity was 76 percent or some craziness like that. And he came down to the beach and we floated on rafts and laughed with the boys ALL DAY LONG.

I think he got tired of me saying "I love this day so much. It's so perfect with you here. I love you so much! Thank you for coming to the beach with us!"

My husband - and those of you know him will be shocked by this - relaxed. And it was grand. It was one of my happiest memories of summer. All six of us lounging at a lake all day long. Wonderful.

Ah summer, why do you have to end?

Feel Loved Now, Daddy?

Recently, the boys had a bought with the flu. When S4 gets the flu, he is really good at running to the toilet on time. However, he gives me a play by play leading up to being ill. I appreciate you all, so I will spare you the gruesome details.

He also requires me to rub his back. Demands it, really. And even with his head over the toilet he holds one hand up giving me directions on how I should form my hand to rub his back, open hand, fisted, knuckles, etc.

The other night, we were done with dinner and the table was being cleared and Hubby asked for a back rub. The boys rushed to his aid, and S4, rubbing ferociously, asked if it felt good.

"Oh, yah," he answered.

"I knowed that, Daddy cuz it's my pukeded rub. When I pukeded, Moma rubs me like this."

Wow, Daddy, feel loved now? Cuz that is true love back rub there!

Sadie is at it Again....

Yesterday was a wonderful day for drying clothes on the line. And since I have mountains upon mountains upon mountains of laundry to do, and since the boys are not allowed to swamp and mud play until I catch up on the laundry, I was using full advantage of my thought- it -would- be- huge- forever- but- now- it -is -really- too -small- clothes line. I had washed our comforter and hung it out there and when dinner was over, headed out to get it before the dew got heavy on it.

As I walked out the door, Sadie refused to tag along. This is highly unusual. She ALWAYS tags along with me. I called her a bit and she looked at me with her sleepy looking eyes as if to say "I have played hard and just want to rest."

That should have been my first warning.

I went out, got the ONE blanket, came right back in and Sadie was not where I had left her. I walked around the corner to head towards the bedroom and there was Sadie, on the couch, in the dark living room.

She looked up, ears totally pricked up, a wide eyed "I have done nothing wrong" look on her face.

"Whatcha doin?" I asked her as I flipped on the light.

And there, there on the couch was the DINNER HAM !!!!!!!

If the cat had been in the room, I am certain she would have blamed her, or the other dog, or the boys....but she was caught fair and square.

Ug....if it's not one thing, it's another.

And she is forever more walking out the door with me. I will not fall to her "I am soooooo sleepy and sweet and tired and not hungry" look again.

Elkins...it's What's for Dinner

Husband and I were laying in bed last night listening to the TV program that S1 was up watching. All the boys had fallen asleep already but being a Friday night we had let S1 stay awake. He was flipping between watching the Red Wings and a hunting show. They were calling in elk on the hunting show and I had groaned in protest.

“I can sleep to nature sounds, but not when they are calling in elk. Ug!” I muttered.

“At least you know that is an elk call,” husband answered brightly.

Which got me to giggling because when I am really tired I giggle easily. So maybe this post will only be hilarious to me......but I will continue on anyhow.

We began then repeating snippets of conversations throughout the night that had cracked us up. At the dinner table S2 declared “Daddy, we took four testes today.”

“Testes?” Hubby asked sarcastically, to get S2 to realize his mispronunciation. “Were any of those tests on English?”

S1 nearly spit the food he was chewing out of his mouth he found that so funny.

“No.....” S2 answered hesitantly, not catching the joke, “Wait...we were talking in English so I guess the testes were in English.”

Moving on.......

Husband was playing S1 in the awful wonderful addicting table hockey game (again) and for whatever reason (we never do know why he does these things) S4 was running through the house at top speed yelling out “cab fare! Cab fare!”

No, I don't know why.

Once were had all agreed that is what he was yelling out, Husband asked the neighbor boy, IM, if he had ever ridden in cab.

“Um, no, I don't think so. Well, wait, maybe, but I don't know but I think so,” was his definite reply.

“Really?” S1 asked incredulously, “You have NEVER ridden in cab?” To his credit, he never looked up from attempting to beat his Daddy at the game so he didn't see husband and I waiting to see what he would follow this up with. “I've ridden in a cab tons of time!”

“You have?” IM asked, shocked. “Where?”

“A truck!!! You have NEVER ridden in a cab of a truck???”

Yes, S1 thought who got to sit in the cab with Daddy was 'fair' and didn't realize there was any other 'cab'.

Moving on again......

Making dinner, S4 asked me what was for dinner. I get asked this about 30 times a day, 20 times from four to six or whenever dinner is on the table (and even then I get asked what is on the table for dinner as they are sitting there staring at it). I get really tired of repeating myself so when S4 asked I just said “All kinds of food.” And we were. Roast, potatoes, squash, green beans, rolls.....

He looked only momentarily confused. Then he asked brightly, “Can we have hot dogs with that elkins?”

“With what?” I asked.

“Elkins, what we eat for dinner. Can we have hot dogs with that elkins?”

Elkins...as in "all kinds". Crack me up, took me a bit to catch it but he thought when I said "all kinds of food" I had said "elkins".

Bless him for not telling me that 'elkins' must have sounded gross to him.

Just a FEW of the snippets of conversations we have had around the house........

Dinner Without Daddy

Last night Husband had a dinner/meeting/night out with his very best friend. It's an all night out event, they just can't chat 'quickly'. Which means the boys and I get to eat whatever it is we want to eat. It's usually something like tuna noodle casserole, pancakes or hotdogs and macaroni and cheese...simple stuff like that. Ice cream is usually involved as well. Just the way it is around here when Daddy is gone.

Well, tonight at dinner, in the middle of singing “Pharaoh pharaoh”, well, I thought this might make a good blog.

Here is what you need to visualize.

Three boys have taken a bath by now. To my left is S4, wrapped in a towel only in fear we would eat all the food without him. S2 is next to him and he has on his grundies and his red wing hat and hanging on the back of his hat is a raccoon tail, thanks to my parents who brought it back from Mackinaw Island. S3 is next to S2 and he too is in his grundies and he is on his way to bed for annoying his brothers, he just doesn't know it yet. S1 is at the head of the table and he is the only fully dressed son, directly across from the completely naked son. Who, I might add, I did not realize was naked sitting on a bath towel until he was eating and then I figured why bring it up now?

S4 was the first to raise his hand and the shrillest to pray. He prays things like “thank you God for Daddy at work, thank you God for pancakes, thank you God for Jr and for cars” etc. His prayers always crack me up, I usually can figure out who he feels has been mean to him, what he did for the whole day and what he is bothered with from any prayer he prays. Cracks me up every time.

We pass out blueberry (which are VERY blueberry because I accidentally dropped more frozen berries in the batter than I planned) and plain pancakes. We get to drink orange juice tonight and this is a very special treat, all five of us love orange juice.

We chat about pancakes, take bets on how long it'll be before Daddy gets home, hear about all the escapades of the school day when suddenly S4 says....

“Moma, how that song go?”

I knew exactly what he was talking about. In Word of Life class last month we leaned a song called “Pharaoh Pharaoh” sang to the tune of “Louie Louie” RC had given me the words so I got them out and we sang them at the top of our lungs, all of us, and did the motions sitting in our chair. We sang so loud that we couldn't' even hear Johnny and June Carter crooning on the stereo.

I don't really enjoy nights when Husband doesn't make home, but we try to make it 'special' and last night, well, last night I think we nailed it. It was the most fun we have had at dinner in a long time.

Moma Lost It, the to be continued part

Well, S1 did his very best to shoot a deer. The day wasn’t totally awful on the boys. Their Daddy took the two older boys into town today to buy bullets and arrows, really, how much better can it be? S2 came home with a football, he was gleeful.

As dinner approached, there were many tears. S3 ran to the basement to get the noodles and the sauce and offered to help any way he could just for a bit of spaghetti.

It was pitiful.

There were tears. There was begging. I had shadows following me as I made dinner. Hubby started to feel bad for them. I was pouring on the sweetness to my hubby, set our plates at the table and no one else’s. S3 and S4 climbed the counter to reach the plates for themselves.

Husband prayed, and all thru the prayer there were sniffles and quiet sobs. I cheerily piled his plate high and got mine, very aware of three sets of eyes on my every move.

We caved. Hubby gave the boys a stern “what did you learn” talk and then we loaded their plates high with food. It was the quietest dinner we have had in a long time. They were so busy eating that they didn’t speak.

When we finished dinner, S1 came in from hunting. He hadn’t even seen a thing. Good thing they weren’t waiting for him to bring home dinner!
I’m not sure what good it will do in the long run. But for the time being, at least for the night, any thing I have asked them to do they have jumped to do. I think they are hoping for brownie ice cream dessert tonight while they watch the Red Wings. And I felt so sorry watching S4’s sad eyes follow me around telling me all the funny things his tummy was saying about being hungry that I will be dishing out the brownies and ice cream.

Am I a Christian Now?

We were all sitting around the dinner table, eating a regular dinner on a regular night. Except, with four boys, our conversations run the gamut of all sorts of subjects…important and ridiculous. But it’s conversation, as a family, and for half an hour we eat and talk and it is the most important time of our family’s day.

On this dinner occasion, the older two boys were asking about why they couldn’t be baptized in a river or creek because that is what Jesus did and they don’t want to be in a bathtub, they want the ‘real’ thing.

Which lead S3 to ask if he was a Christian too? We had been talking with him a lot lately about this, he has the concept, and he just hasn’t said the prayer. So, there at the dinner table we began to ask him…

Why did Jesus die on the cross? Do you believe what God did for us? Do you believe in God? Why do you want to be a Christian? The older two boys were asking more questions than us! S3 just kept saying “I don’t know what to say.”

When my husband asked S3 if he had ever sinned S3 looked solemn. “Yes,” he admitted sadly. “I think I have sinned some. Maybe, well, I think I have sinned a whole lot of things.”

S4 chimed in, “He has, Dad. One time, he………..” and he proceeded to tell us all the bad things his older brother had done in that afternoon, that day, that week, that month…I had to shush him.

What was silly and sad was that S4 was listening to it all and so did not want to be left out.

“All you have to do is pray and ask when you believe,” S2 explained to his little brother.

S4 says “I’ll pray! I’ll pray!” He bowed his head, “Dear God, thank you for this day. Amen.’ Am I a Christian now?” he asked excitedly.

It was so hard to be truthful and tell him no.

S3 wanted to pray but wasn’t sure so he played for the rest of the evening and later, when it was time for bed, he searched his Daddy out and asked him to pray. He wanted to be a Christian so badly. So, my husband prayed with him and a beaming five year old flung his arms around me to tell me he was a Christian now. His joy was contagious and sweet.