Henry's Quote of the Day

"A good corn dog never quits."

I wish I knew what that meant.

A Family Legacy

Yesterday while I was helping Mom with Christmas preparations she uttered an exasperated, "Golly day!" I smiled, because that's a phrase that before I met my friend Brittany in high school had never been said before in my family. Now Mom says it, I say it, Maggie says it, and even Ben says it. It caused me to think about the other things I've picked up from friends over the years. It took me a good five years or so to quit calling everybody honey thanks to my mission pal, Aniesa. Then after her recent visit I was at it again. I called Dad honey, Ben's friend Edward honey, and who knows who else. Then Mom said crap and I asked her about that one. I thought I'd picked it up from a childhood friend because I remember Mom harping on me for saying it in front of her. Mom corrected that misconception, telling me she'd said it for years. Not only that, but Grandma had been particularly fond of saying it, to the point that her yearbook quote was, "Oh, crap!"

Ah, crap, a family tradition for three generations. If Grandma were still around I'd give her a big hug.

Henry's Incredible Lego Haul

Yes, he got his precious "A-boat" and a few other Lego sets as well. He wanted to take some to Papaw's house, but Ben said no and told him that there were rats there who liked to eat legos. I'm not sure if Henry really believed it, but at any rate the legos stayed home. I pretty much forgot about Ben's little lie until Henry opened his present from Grandma and Papaw and wanted to assemble his legos. Ben wanted to wait until we got home so nothing would accidentally get left behind. Henry countered with, "There are no rats in here!"

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Too bad the video cut off Henry's awesome comeback: "No, it's not!"

Here It Is: The Christmas Card Blog

Okay, people, due to extreme sloth this year, this year's Christmas Card is online. It probably would have been better to go get a portrait made and all, but when you've been procrastinating like I have lately... Anyway, here it is:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Love, The Tilleys

And the exciting 2008 Update on everything that's been going on, etc:

This year's been pretty much the same as last year. We're still in the Spanish branch at church, still driving the same old car, doing the same old routine. Ben's been working hard at his job as a computer programmer, and playing video games and hanging out with his family in his free time. The annual beard is back, but this year he's decided to keep it neat so wifey doesn't have much to complain about. Sarah's still doing the stay-at-home mom thing, keeping Henry alive and entertained. She's going on her fourth year as an assistant den leader in cub scouts, plus somehow got roped into being the choir director at church-- this should end well. She's also stayed busy teaching Joy School to Henry and his friends. Henry's growing up fast, learning his ABC's and 123's. He's gotten good at writing his name and is looking forward to turning five this February and starting kindergarten next fall. He's completely devoted to all things boy now, which includes shunning the "girl" aisle in the toy store, although it's still okay to play with his girlfriends. Henry has officially become a Lego addict and has declared that he shall work for Lego Star Wars when he grows up. Dori the cat is as fat as ever, despite having had eleven teeth extracted. She likes to eat bugs and knock Legos under the tv cabinet, throw up her cat food, and snuggle in warm laps. It's been a great year and we're looking forward to another great one.

Love you all!

Henry Vs. Christmas

Henry's had his eye on a certain Lego product for a while now: a speedboat with an A printed across its noble prow (or whatever you call that part). He's determined he must have it, his precious "A-boat", and spent several minutes salivating over it in the toy aisle with me while Ben snuck off to covertly buy Henry's presents. He is, of course, getting this for Christmas. What kid wouldn't want a Lego set that comes with a cool speedboat, a damsel in distress, her daring rescuer, an evil genius ala Jaws from the James Bond movies, and sharks with frickin' lasers attached to their heads. The other day Henry decided that he must have the "A-boat" right away without delay. I explained that Christmas was coming really soon and that he'd have to wait and see if Santa brought him what he wanted. Henry by virtue of being a kid, decided this waiting stuff was for the birds. So ensued an hour-long debate, Henry pro Get the Lego set Now, me on the opposing side. An approximation of how it went down:

Henry: Mom, I'm stuck on the A-boat.

Me: That's great, Henry. But you have to wait until Christmas.

Henry: Hey, I got it! How about we buy it!

Me: (Suppressing laughter because he's so dang cute) We're not going to the store today. You'll have to wait until Christmas.

Henry: I hate Christmas! Christmas blows!

Me: Seriously, you can't say blows. You say that again and I'm banning the Simpsons. (I've already banned Family Guy.)

Henry: Okay. Sorry. I hate Christmas!

Me: You don't hate Christmas, you hate waiting for Christmas so you can get your Legos.

Henry: Mom, you've got one choice (holding up two fingers). I get the A-boat or you get in trouble!

Me: Sustained Laughter.

And so on.

Henry has decided the worst thing in the world to get for Christmas is socks and underwear. I keep threatening to get him some if he doesn't stop whining about the A-boat; that usually shuts him up. It's nice to have a verbal weapon other than the threat of time out or spanking.

While Ben was napping the other day I whispered to Henry, "What should we get Daddy for Christmas?"

Henry whispered back, "Underwear!"

Because Everyone Needs Closure

Yes, the bird carcass has vacated the tree. It's neither hanging upside down from the branch, nor is it festering on the ground beneath the branch, so we can assume one of two things: something ate it (blechhh!) or it flew its zombie self south for the winter. I'm going for the zombie angle myself.

Wonders Never Cease

Yesterday while I was busily occupied with something other than housework, Henry told me he cleaned his room. I received this information with little doubt as to the truth of his statement; I knew he believed he cleaned his room but I was under the impression that it was "clean" according to Henry, i.e., he'd picked up a few things or made his bed. So I got up and followed him to his room that I might give positive reinforcement to a voluntary, unprompted act of cleanliness.

His room was clean. I was floored.

Check it out:



High five, buddy!

My Butt Has Finally Thawed

Today, being Monday, was park day, so Henry and I dutifully walked to the park. Apparently everyone else in the world thought it was too cold to be out. The park was deserted, so we walked the greenway and went over the highway to the other "dragon" park. I was really surprised because this one was desolate as well. I honestly didn't think it was that cold, except for my ears. We played a while and Henry had his snack and I decided since we were so close we'd walk over to the grocery store across the street and buy a bag of oranges. So we did, stopping first at a toy store. On the way home, walking on the trail beneath the power lines, Henry munched M&M's and went into million-question mode.

"Mom, why are trees green?"

I explained about chlorophyll as efficiently as I could.

"Mom, I love you."

"I love you, too."

Then it was fifteen other questions, I'd answer and Henry would tell me he loved me.

I guess he was prepping me for when we got home and it was time to clean his room and he decided he was going to be lazy. That's what he always says when I tell him to clean up: "But Mom, I'm lazy. I want to be a slob."

Gee, wonder where he got that from.

Anyway, it occurred to me that perhaps it had been a bit nippy to be out when I noticed four hours later when Ben got home that my butt was still cold from our outdoor excursion.

On a side note, tonight we did a little Christmas shopping at a certain electronics store Ben loves. As we were lining up to make our purchases, Henry was standing in the aisle staring at something on a display when an employee came strolling along looking everywhere but four-year-old level and slammed right into him. It was a sight to behold, what with the tall, skinny guy practically doing a cartwheel as he tripped over Henry, then grabbing him as he fell in what I can only assume was a defensive move to keep Henry from hitting his head on the floor. Henry was okay and I might have laughed (it looked hilarious to me) but the guy hurt his finger so I didn't.

Are Y'all Serious?

Since there have been actual requests of a photographic evidence:



And:



Yes, these photos were taken this morning. After yesterday's failed attempt to disentangle the bird from the branch. Vigorous shaking of the tree branch whipped the bird all over the place and sent feathers flying, but had no effect on the cold dead claw. We even resorted to two rakes. I was quite literally hanging off of the metal garden rake hooked onto the branch trying to bend it enough to where Ben could get within whacking range. Note in the first photo the scarring just visible on the branch near the bird. Ben broke several tines off the plastic rake trying to knock the carcass off. Whack and shake as we might, the bird insists upon rotting in the open air.

Dead Bird Update...

Because I know you're all on the edge of your seats wanting to know if the carcass has dropped yet.

Nope. The carcass, or Rotten Robin, as I like to call him (or Rotting Robin, if you prefer), is still clutching a death grip, literally, on the branch. Ben went out at my request today to knock it out of the tree so I wouldn't have to watch the magic of decomposition every time I looked out the window. Unfortunately the bird is a little out of rake range, so Ben had to shake the tree limb instead. He shook and he shook and he shook, and the bird flopped around as much as rigor mortis would allow, but absolutely would not come off the branch.

Ick. Here's hoping tomorrow's attempt fares better.

X-Mas Happenin's

That star is GARBAGE! (Fah la la la lah, la la la laaaaahhh!)

We put the Christmas tree up last night. Or rather the top half of it. The tree's really about six feet, but since the stand broke we had to get another one and it's a Walmart value at about $7.50, and having any kind of expectation of the shoddy piece o' junk holding up the whole thing is a bit much. As it stands now, with only the top half to support, it's a little unstable at best, and we can only pray the cat doesn't climb back up there and knock it over again. While we were out for a stand we decided to purchase a star for the tree per Henry's request. I guess the "Black Friday" madness (which I happily avoided) must've cleared out the shelves at Wally World, for pickin's was slim. The choices were: broken plastic star that blinked; non-broken plastic star that blinked blue and green; ugly trailer-trash multi-light, gold tinsel adorned star; and hideous twin of before mentioned star in silver tinsel. I'd gladly have posted pictures of said choices, but apparently Walmart is too embarrassed to showcase such cheapo hud on the internets. Anyway, I opted for the non-broken star that blinked, because honestly, although I didn't really give a crap since we've done without a star for nine years, I couldn't bring myself to even touch the tinsel twins. Then today, after Joy School was blissfully over, Henry looks up at the tree and whined, "That star is garbage! I wanted the other star with the lights!"

The Curse Continues...

As I was sitting down to read a book this afternoon my gaze wandered to the colorful fall leaves dappled with sunlight just outside my window. Then something unusual caught my attention. There in the ornamental pear tree situated before the house, far out on a limb, dangling upside down by forces unknown, hung a dead bird. I know this bird was dead because I watched it with interest for some time, waiting for it to right itself, which it never did. As I looked up from my book from time to time I noticed the tree stayed devoid of living birds for a while, which was kind of creepy. Like being in a movie where there's this ominous dead bird hanging upside down from a tree for no discernible reason. Then after a while smaller, living birds flew over and started eating the little pears, happily ignoring the dead carcass, and then flew away, presumably over to the oak tree where they perched from on high and crapped on my car like they've been doing for the past three weeks. Stupid birds. If the dead bird's still there in the morning I'm taking a picture. Weirdest thing I ever saw.

Thanksgiving

Wednesday we drove down to my parents' and luxuriated in idleness for a while. Ben was sick and napped on the couch. Poor guy; it seems like anytime he gets a long weekend off he gets sick. But instead of staying at home and sleeping all day he decided to be a good sport and do that at Mom and Dad's. While he slept and Henry played I made a pumpkin cheesecake, my contribution to the Thanksgiving feast. Then Dad and Beth made a huge vat of fudge (literally there was thirty-something pounds of it) and once it was poured out into cookie sheets to set, all the kids got a spoon and went to town on the ginormous pot. I also got to hang out and chat with Mom and Maggie. And I managed to read Little House in the Big Woods.

I was going to read Little House on the Prairie the next day, but Ben and I ended up going shooting in the woods instead. There next to a fallen tree two pumpkins were summarily dispatched, as well as several cans formerly containing ingredients to various pies made that morning. As we were walking back to the house through the woods we came out by the pond and saw Dad yanking a beaver lodge out with his tractor and this rusty old hinged claw-thingy on a rope. So we decided to lend a hand and manned the big kayak and helped insofar as we were able. Mostly we splashed stinky cold water all over ourselves trying to tow branches away from the island the beaver invaded to the shore where Dad was making a huge pile of sticks he'd already dislodged. Had the beavers not chewed down just about every tree around the pond and wrecked the island I'd probably have felt a little sorry for them. Dad suggested a beaver hunt for that night, and as tempted as I was to camp out at night in a kayak waiting for beavers to sneak out of the broken lodge, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to shoot one. Killing pumpkins is one thing, beavers are too dang cute. I'd feel way too guilty. I think it'd be fun to stalk them, though. Before our little beaver lodge demolition was over Ben had smacked me in the head with his paddle and my shirt was covered in stinky pond scum and mud (and probably beaver poo). So I had just enough time to wash up change back into my clothes from Wednesday and then help Mom make mashed potatoes. Henry, the little gourmand, refused to eat anything but the rolls Beth made. He did try a little bit of pumpkin pie and surprise, surprise, he didn't like it. Weirdo.

All in all, a good Thanksgiving.

Me Being Slightly Creative

My sister took some art classes in college and when she was done she gave me all her art supplies, plus the all the paintings she'd done with express permission, or rather a mandate, that I paint over them. I finally got around to feeling artsy sometime this summer and picked out the big canvas with the old naked long-haired bearded man sitting on a stool and decided my first attempt at painting since high school should be for Henry. Henry wanted a space ship in outer space, so that's what I did. The result, after months of stop and go, is now hanging in Henry's room.



And now, having accomplished this I can finally put the paints back in the attic until I start feeling ambitious again.

Autumn And Stuff

It's fall hereabouts. I suck at taking pictures, but I thought the neighbor's yard looked cool. My yard's not as interesting, since we mostly have nothing but ugly brown oak trees. So many acorns fell this year that you can just about roller skate on them. Actual closeup shot of my yard:



Well, that's about it. Unless you wanted to see the backyard. In that case, here it is:



Oh, and Henry bids you adieu:

Halloween

Awesome title, I know. Yes, Halloween came and went. Henry wanted to be Anakin Skywalker. He couldn't find his blue lightsaber, so he had to use his red one and go as the "bad Anakin." Wouldn't you know it, I try to take a couple photos of Henry in his Halloween garb and the camera's battery craps out before I can get a decent shot. Here are the two best, if you can believe it:



And:



One would think he'd be slightly more enthusiastic since he was preparing for a night of unbridled sugar consumption. But then again, he did have a slight cold. The last one gives me a vague impression of a Picasso, what with the goofy lopsided fake smile and the slightly cockeyed look. Also, his hair reminds me of Ralph Wiggam from the Simpsons.

Saturday we got to visit Grandpa and Grandma Tilley. It was a beautiful day and Ben and I found ourselves napping on the porch while Henry ran amok with the grandparents. A nice, nice visit. Plus we were treated to a barbecue lunch at one of the baptist churches in the area. Henry was a weasel and didn't want to try anything but a few hush puppies and dessert. I decided to try a piece of pumpkin pie- at least I thought that's what it was. It was the orangest pie I've ever seen. There weren't any spices in it and it didn't even taste like pumpkin, just thick, pasty sugar. That made me so sad. I want a real pumpkin pie. Henry wants me to make a pie out of the pumpkin adorning the front porch, but I told him I only make pumpkin pie from a can; I am the Queen of Laziness, after all. Our pumpkin is slated for a grisly death next weekend. Yes, I'm going to shoot it to pieces. And as a token of respect for the gourd that must be blown up by assault rifles, I will save some seeds from its carcass and give them to Mom and Dad to plant for next year. It's the circle of life, you know...

EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS?!!!!!!!

All right, nine hundred and sixty-five dollars, including the initial check-up.

Because the phone was out, the vet could not contact me to inform me that they would be extracting ELEVEN teeth from my cat's head. I figured when they told me her mouth was in nasty shape that they'd probably have to give her a shot or something, but eleven teeth? Dori's only four years old. My other cat Bubbette lived sixteen years and never had to have her teeth cleaned, so it never occurred to me that Dori was prone to hereditary mouth rot. Since the original estimate was about four hundred dollars, you can quite well imagine the shock of learning that it was more than double. They gave me a little pill bottle full of her teeth, which by the way were disgusting. I shook the teeth in the bottle. What was I supposed to do with her nasty teeth? Stick them under my pillow and hope the tooth fairy would bring me a check for eight hundred bucks? I was tempted, just slightly.

The time between picking up the cat from the vet and Ben coming home yesterday was a trifle tense. On the way home I muttered to myself about how Ben was going to have a cow.

Henry asked, "Is Daddy going to go to the farmer place and get a cow and put it in the back yard?"

No, Daddy's going to get really mad and probably yell a lot...

Ben met us at the Halloween carnival at church where I informed him of the damages. I'm glad we were at church as it limited all sorts of things he might have said in a less holy place. He took it a lot better than I thought he would.

I guess it worked out well for Dori. If the phone had been working she'd still have a mouth full of rotten teeth.

One good thing: the phone line I cut did absolutely nothing to damage the phone. A stupid chunk in the phone lines outside corroded. And the phone guy didn't charge us anything. Earlier I'd seen a phone company truck over at the neighbor's house, but didn't think anything of it. So this whole time I was stressing about being a huge idiot over a complete coincidence.

I ought to call the old lady at the phone company back and tell her that no, stupid genes do not run in my family, but then I'd have to explain why Ben went to eat at White Castle. Of course, he only did it on a personal dare (White Castle is mentioned in a Beastie Boys song), and he hated it. I laughed at him because he ate all four of the little turd-burgers but he insisted he did so out of principle because, after all, he paid for them.

Yes, I'm Still Alive, But For How Long????

I've been absent from the whole blogging thing a while. Apparently the month of October is my busiest, even worse than the month of December when we have to visit every living relative in the state of North Carolina within the span of a few days. I started out the month with high hopes (they always start out that way, don't they) and halfway through it I'm wondering what the heck I was even thinking.

I think I'll just list an itinerary:

Oct 3: Drive 2 hours with Henry. Hang out with Maggie, buy each other birthday gifts. Make appearance at old childhood friend's wedding reception. Develop cough, lose voice by end of evening.

Oct 4: Birthday. 33 years old. Spend all day in bed fighting losing battle against sinus infection/chest cold. Ben cleans kitchen. Yeah! :)

Oct 7: My week to teach Joy School. Canceled Joy School for week due to freaking lingering cold. Went to cub scouts, regretted decision, should have stayed in bed.

Oct 8: Doctor.

Oct 11: Mom and Dad's for annual fall cookout/hayride. Still coughing, can't wallow all over baby nephew.

Oct 14: Joy School canceled due to sick kid. Spend all day in giddy anticipation of arrival of mission pal Aniesa (Nielson). Skip cub scouts, meet Aniesa for dinner, have fun, really regret shortness of visit, wish the world weren't so big, lament unhappy fate of not being a millionaire or having access to free travel.

Oct 15: Aniesa stops by to see house, Henry, was impressed by trees. Took Henry to park for play date with friend.

Oct 16-19: Feed/entertain neighbors 6 cats and 2 dogs 3/4 times per diem. Took cat, Dori to vet, okay except moderate to severe dental disease. Set up appointment for necessary teeth cleaning, anticipate bill $300+.

Oct 19: Henry's part in Primary presentation in Sacrament Meeting allows me to hear English at church. Brain says ahhhhhhhhh...

Oct 20: On whim purchase small Lego set for Henry while on trip to Walmart. Henry plays with Legos all day. On way to bed after midnight, discover Henry in room quietly playing with Legos. Forcible removal of Legos, Henry goes to sleep.

Oct 21: Teach Joy School. Maggie arrives with nephew, Wesley. I wallow all over Wesley. Massive organization/clean up commences under direction of Maggie. Go to cub scouts, come home and commence clean up. Bed at 1 am following long yak session.

Oct 22: Visit to radiology department for fun-filled HSG. Lunch. Mow lawn, clean litter box. Goodbye to Maggie. 8 pm arrives, realize phone line is dead, due to idiot decision to sever broken phone jack from wire sticking up out of bedroom floor serving only as tripping hazard these past five years... Confess, deal with Ben's unhappiness, go fish phone jack out of trash.

To do: call phone company to fix phone line, reschedule dental appointment for next month, see about taking cat to vet school to save $, plan Joy School lesson, fix Henry's Halloween costume, don't touch anything or do anything stupid in hopes of not causing another huge money sucking catastrophe.

Overall, this month has been a good one, all except for today's idiotfest. I'm freaking lucky the internet still works in spite of the damaged phone line, lucky that Ben for the most part has spared me his wrath, lucky that I finally got over my stupid cold.

Man, I'm tired.