Which Nightingale?

The subject of Florence Nightingale came up the other day at our house, as I'm sure happens regularly in all of yours.

Anyway, Alicia said, "Remind me who she is exactly.  All I remember is that Cinderella sings about her."

I was like, "What?!  When does she sing about her?"

Alicia said, "Oh, you know.  It's when she's scrubbing the floor."
Then she started to sing these words--in total seriousness-- to the tune of "Sing Sweet Nightingale:"
"Flor-ence Nightingale, 
Flor-ence Nightingale 
ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhhhh"


It's reassuring to know that my kids are getting some sort of history education through their misinterpretation of Disney movies.  

(p.s. I have no idea what kind of bird is in the picture, but I'm pretty sure it isn't a nightingale.)

Spring Fever

Alicia: "I think I'm getting spring fever."

Me: "Why do you say that?"

Alicia: "Because my nose has been running and my throat has been hurting and..."

Me: (giggling)

Alicia: What?

Me: "Spring fever" isn't a sickness! It just means you can't wait for spring.

Alicia: Oh. Well, I'm getting some sort of fever.

Me: Hay fever?

Alicia: Yeah


But she's got the actual spring fever too, just like the rest of us,
because our back yard looks like this:

And our front yard has huge piles of snow left over from snow blowing our wide driveway. Since weather is so capricious here, I tell my kids they can't wear shorts until the snow is gone from our yard.
Otherwise, they may end up in shorts during a freak blizzard.
It seems reasonable enough, right?
Not to them.
And to show their gratitude to me for protecting them from hypothermia,
they say things like, "you're ruining my life" and "what a stupid rule."

But at least it gives them a spring hobby:
shoveling the snow around so it will melt faster.

Hives

On Tuesday night Alicia broke out with hives. True to her emotional nature she started preparing herself for imminent death. We gave her Benadryl, calmed her down, and distracted her with American Idol.
But she remembered to be stressed the next day because I heard her end a phone conversation like this: "So, I guess I'll see you tonight if I'm not dead by then."
Later she asked me if she could please go to the doctor. I was surprised because she has sworn off doctors. Knowing that the doctor wouldn't give any life-saving advice, but realizing that it would put an end to her fears of death, I carted her to town for some authoritative assurance.
The doctor entered the examining room with unnecessary hyper enthusiasm. "Hi. Hi! I'm doctor so and so. I'm so excited to meet all of you! Now, let's see this rash."
Then, without any hesitation he said, "It's hives. If she's had a cold within the last week then it's probably linked to that."
I asked him if the outbreak could also have any correlation to that day's eating habits of no breakfast or lunch and then two pieces of cake.
He laughed and said, "No. But I'm sure you want me to tell her otherwise so here goes: Cake and sugar are horrible and will cause rashes every time. Never eat them again."
I showed him the generic brand of antihistamine we were using and he said, "That's stuff's good, but it will make you..." he suddenly stopped talking, dropped his head and snarfed up a loud fake snore "...if you know what I mean."
I said, "Thank you for acting that out."
Since the diagnosis was so swift, he must have felt like there was time to kill so he started explaining all the fun things you can do with hived-out skin, like scratching words into it and then watching it appear later. He got all excited and said, "Come with me, I'll show you a picture."
He left the room and we packed up our things to follow, but he was gone when we got out. The nurse was trying to point us to the exit when the doctor came bustling around the corner with a huge book. He clunked it down and opened to a picture where someone had scratched the word "hives" into their skin. He was like, "Will you look at that!"
After we obediently 'looked at that', we turned to leave. We were almost to the exit when he called after us,

"You would probably want to scratch CAKE!"

So much for an illusion of authority.

Kid Conversations

Megan

Megan, desperately calling me from her sick bed: Jenny! Jenny!!! One of my nostrils is stuffed and the other nostril is getting too much air.

Rachel

Me: Why aren't you practicing the violin?
Rachel: I'm recovering.
Me: From what?
Rachel: I stepped outside and it was so cold that I started coughing and I couldn't breathe and I barely made it back to the door alive.
Me: (giggling despite myself, along with Alicia, and Rachel herself) Oh, well, when you're done dramatizing your near-death experience, then practice the violin.

Me, Later: Rachel, you're going back outside? How will you survive?
Rachel: I'm bringing a water bottle.
Me: Oh, of course.

The Girls

After the girls watch Lord of the Rings with their dad...

Me: How was Lord of the Rings? (the violence of which I'm "violently" opposed to)
Girls: Good.
Me: Did you enjoy the violence?
Megan: We saw heads getting chopped off.
Me: Great
Rachel: We saw tons of people get killed.
Me: Are you glad you saw all that?
Rachel: No, but it was cool.
Megan: There's just one thing I don't understand...was the ring bad?
Rex: She obviously understood the movie.
Me: ..laughing
Alicia: No, that's a good question. Was it?

Andrew

Conversation while making cookies. . .
Andrew: Looking at that melted butter awe-most made me throw up...awe-most.
Me: Okay, maybe you shouldn't look at it.
Andrew (after adding vanilla): That vanilla looks like blood and the batter looks like skin.
Me: Yum. Should we put a band-aid on it, or stir it?
Andrew: Stir it. You were kidding right?
Me: Right.

Don't Breathe on Me

Anyone who knows Alicia, knows that she's practically perfect in every way. She's not demanding, critical, or selfish (and she's fourteen, so that's basically a miracle).

Even though normal teenage things don't affect her, here are a few things that do:

#1 Getting Breathed on

Alicia is a pretty mellow girl until someone breaths in near proximity to her. Then it's all out warfare. When she gets too mellow or introverted, I like to say something like,"Hey Megan, go breathe on Alicia."

#2 Science Fair

Fortunately for the whole family, science fair is finally over and our lives can return to normal. Ever since the first day of school Alicia has been lamenting this demon of school projects. It has been "ruining her life" (as well as ours) for four months now. At any random time of the day we would hear any one of the following outbursts:

"I hate science fair! I'm not doing the project. I don't care if I fail."
"I can't even focus on school, or anything else because science fair is so stupid!"
"Science fair.....ughhh!"
"I can't believe teachers can feel okay with themselves after assigning a science fair project."
"I can't believe it's even legal to put children through this torture."

Then, finally, we heard:
"Okay, I'll do it! But I'm not going to do anything hard. I'm just going to focus on making the board look cute. Do you think I'll get a passing grade if my board looks cute?"

So, she finally did it. And it turned out well (and the board looked way cute). And her project was based on a fun idea. (Yeah, I hate to brag or take credit or anything, but I totally thought of it) Wanna hear?
It's all about this joke:
A guy orders a pizza. The salesperson asks, "Would you like me to cut it into six slices, or eight?" The man answers, "Only six. I couldn't possibly eat eight."
Crazy funny, huh? Not really. But the point is that you have to be a certain age to understand it. You basically have to be about eight. Oh, and there was one 16-year-old who didn't understand either.

#3 Smoking

If the subject of smoking comes up, Alicia goes into an immediate tirade saying things like, "How can people be so dumb? Don't they know what they're doing? Don't they want to live?"
Once in Wendover we stopped near a casino for breakfast where there was a tiny whiff of smoke smell. She couldn't enjoy a bite of her food and when we left she started wheezing and complaining:
"I....think....I can feel.....my lungs....closing in...gasp!"She barely managed to pull herself into the car as she gasped and gulped for air. It took some serious talking before we convinced her she would live.
(As a disturbing side note, she has also had numerous nightmares that I've taken up the habit. Does anyone interpret dreams?)

#4 Church Basketball

On the first night of this year's church basketball, Alicia sat on the couch staring comatose at the wall and complaining about the terrors of church basketball. "The parents all come and yell at us. And if we can't play well then people hate us. Forever! And the opposing team always has sharp fingernails. Which they use to scratch us. Every time! And..."
Then, after two hours of complaints, we got there and she had a great time. She was one of the better players and miraculously no one scratched her, hated her, or yelled at her.

#5 Creepy Beds

This subject has only riled her up one time but it's so random, I had to include it. As we were looking for houses in Orlando, Alicia didn't want one particular house because she claimed the beds' lack of headboards rendered it creepy.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

A commentary on our Florida transportation experiences:

Planes:
No faces were melted off and no one went deaf, but Alicia was convinced she would die any minute. The ride was turbulent and she was white-knuckle gripping the arm rests and saying, "How can everyone stay so calm?! They're just reading magazines and listening to music! It's like they don't know that we're going to die!"
I tried to calm her down by saying things like, "Do you hear that sound? I think something's wrong with the engine." (It's what any good parent should do). And when Megan said, "It sounds like the wing is cracking off," I said, "Oh that only happens sometimes."
Nearby strangers kept giving me weird looks. (What, they've never heard someone terrorize children before?)



On our return trip I sat next to Alicia and she said, "Jenny, if we crash then I love you."
Since the wording was a little odd, I just had to ask, "And what if we don't crash?"
Alicia: "Then I hate you."
Me: "Fair enough."


The kids eventually settled in and got over their paralyzing fear of death (enough so that they could watch TV at least). Megan, however, was more interested in following the plane flight stats than what was on TV. While her two sisters watched Sponge Bob, she stared at the screen of numbers and when there was a change in elevation or speed she'd announce it to everyone around her.

When we were getting off the plane, I asked the pilot if I could get his picture with Andrew. He nodded, but then looked at the long line of people behind me and pulled Andrew into the cockpit and stuck his pilot's hat on him instead. The co-pilot entertained Andrew by pushing a button that made the sound of a machine gun being shot off and letting Andrew play with the steering wheel for a while.
When we met up with the rest of our group, I told them what Andrew had gotten to do and they all congratulated and fawned over him. He just looked at them and rolled his eyes like they were so immature, then threw his bag over his shoulder like "yeah, no biggie".




Trains:
Our kids used to get pretty excited about trains, but they became pretty mundane after the airport shuttle, the monorail, parking shuttles, and train rides all throughout Disney World. The one funny story we have from train riding came on our first day on the parking shuttle when Alicia (who never gets in trouble) got numerous Disney-style reprimands on the short ride to the park. We were so crowded on the bench that her elbows, knees, and toes kept peeking out of the sides of the train. The conductor, who was on that side kept looking straight at her and saying, "Please remember to keep your arms and legs inside the train at all times.....please remember to keep your arms, legs, and shoulders inside the train at all times.....please remember to keep your arms, legs, and toes inside....." Alicia was mortified, the rest of us were giggling, and Andrew had the mantra memorized by the time we got to the park.


Automobiles:
So, toll roads are kind of new to us. When we passed the first booth Rex got out three quarters, aimed the best he could, and threw with all his might (without reducing speed). Only one of the three quarters made it, but we kept speeding by.
When we got to the next toll booth, Alicia encouragingly said, "Dad, let's see how many quarters you can make in this time!"

Medium

As it turns out...
Alicia's not short.
She's medium.

Explanation:
I think I wrote this post late at night and as Katie and Edith have pointed out, it makes absolutely no sense. What happened was this: Alicia went to school and was told by a boy that she is not short, she is medium. She then came flitting home and proudly announced her new stature definition to the family.
(The funny part, though, is that she's not medium. She's short.)

Smoking in Texas

As we were looking at websites of houses to rent in Florida, Alicia suddenly got worried.

Alicia, (stating the obvious): “Wait! We have to make sure of two things: that the house is in Florida and that it’s non-smoking.”

Rex: “You’re right. It would be awful to wake up and realize we were in Texas.”

My Dad: “Yeah, and then notice we were smoking!”

They Hate the Blog

The other day I walked into the kitchen was stopped by two teenagers with an agenda.

Me: What's up?

Them: We hate blogging.

Me: Why?

Them: It's as bad as texting. People don't talk to each other anymore.

Me: That's why I have to blog. Nobody was talking to me and I started feeling lonely.

Rachel: The other day Ani said, "Have you seen our blog? It's so funny!" And when I said, "No" she just said, "Oh, well then never mind."

Me: Well I could show you their blog.

Them: Okay!!

Me: But wait...I thought you hated blogging.

Them: Oh yeah.

Traveling with Tots

First, Some Math:
4 Kids + 2 Parents + 1 small space + 1 long car ride to Jackson Hole=
8 units of total chaos


What I pack in the survival basket:

Normal stuff: books, activities, snacks, water
Other stuff: wet wipes, paper towels, toilet paper,
throw-up container with a lid!

Jenny's Rules for driving in the car:

#1 No whining about stupid things (Catching Megan mid-whine about a stupid thing).
#2 No annoying repetitive noises.
#3 No dropping things on the floor and then stepping on them.
#4 Use the garbage sack.

Various reactions to watching Andrew utilize the throw-up container
Over and over and over and over again:

Jenny: develops sympathy car sickness
Alicia: rolls down the window so she can breathe unpolluted air
Megan: complains that she is cold and demands that the window be rolled up
Rachel: quietly keeps to herself
Rex: bees grateful and proud of his beautiful wife for packing that handy throw-up container

Here are 2 books on tape that the kids bring:

#1 Gummies to the Rescue! (exclamation mark included)
#2 It's a Small, Small World (a blatant infraction of rule #2)

To my horror, Andrew requests both of them. And. I oblige. Because there's nothing I won't do for a puking four-year-old. (Though, I admit, I turn off the front speakers.)


Four things that happen at once:

#1 Megan, practicing Spanish, asks me, "Are you tomato?" (she means "timido")
#2 Alicia, also practicing Spanish, says, "Quieres take a picture of the river?"
#3 Rex is being a tour guide: "And over here we have Lunch Counter..."
#4 Andrew is fake snoring

And, then I say, "Okay!!! Megan, I'm not a tomato; Alicia, are you meaning you want to take the picture, or you want me to take the picture?; Andrew, that's a very silly fake snore; and, Rex, I'm so very glad that's Lunch Counter. But, if nobody minds, I am just going to read quietly for awhile."

In Afton, the road passes under a huge arch made of elk antlers and this is what I say:
"That's horrible! Think how many elk had to die to make that hideous thing!"
Then Rex says: "Jenny, elk shed their antlers annually."
That's when I say: "Oh."
Then I say: "Well, it's still hideous!"


Then I almost get in trouble when Andrew says,
"Mom, you said something bad."
"Really? What did I say?"
"You said butt!"
Racking my brain, I realize that I said: "I thought those were big buffalo, but they're probably just average."
Before I can explain myself Andrew is chanting, "Buffalo Butt, Buffalo Butt, Buffalo..."
And then he gets in trouble.


But what makes it all worth it
is that on our way home. In the dark. When we're all very tired. And everything else is silent. Megan starts singing "If the Savior Stood Beside Me". And the Spirit is strong and I remember why we take car trips together as a family.

Excited for Disney World?

Here's the reaction we got from our kids about the first plane flight they're about to take to Disney World:

Alicia, age 14: "Everyone says their ears hurt on planes. Could we go deaf on the flight? I don't want to go, if it will make me go deaf."

Rex, who is slightly deaf: "I've flown a lot and it hasn't affected my hearing." (Alicia and I give each other knowing looks).

Me: "But really, you won't go deaf on the plane. We'll be fine. People go on planes all the time. No more worrying."

Rachel, age 12: "Well, I'm not worried. But if I were, I'd be worried that we would crash down and the plane would catch on fire, and my face would be melted off, and they'd have to carry me out on a stretcher, and..."

Me: "I'm so glad you're not worried, then."