Treasure Hunt

It all began on a warm summer day. Jake was working on finishing the club house and Tylie was by his side, eager to assist in anyway she could. Jake began to reveal the story of "Blackbeard the Pirate" and before I knew it, Tylie was gushing to me about the great treasure hunt she and dad were going on. Shortly after cousins arrived and I thought the great treasure had been all lost and forgotten. At ten thirty that night, I waved good bye to family and closed the door. I turned around to order Tylie and Mason upstairs to brush their teeth and get pajamas on and I saw the look. Tylie had the look on her face that I know all too well.She had something up her sleeve. She rushed over to Jake and began to spill out the plan of action. She insisted that they had to treasure hunt under the cover of darkness so that nobody would attempt to steal the map if they found it. Chuckling to myself, I looked at Jake wondering how he was going to get out of this one. To my amazement, he jumped into the fantasy with her and began gathering tools, flashlights, and shovels to begin their journey. "What the heck! It is ten thirty and this fat pregnant woman is tired," is all I could think. None the less, Jake was on the train now and it was leaving the station. I could either jump aboard or get run over. Considering the slack I would receive of being a party pooper, I jumped aboard. So there we are, trapsing around the neighborhood in the dark of night. Somehow we ended back at our house and found that crazy Blackbeard had buried the map right in our own backyard!

The next day, Tylie was still driving that train a hundred miles an hour and Jake and I were just trying to hold on. Once again, we found ourselves with shovels headed out to the great beyond to find the treasure. We packed a picnic lunch because pregnant hunters were concerned that this hunt might take longer than expected. And we were off.....

Tylie was at the helm. She had her map and binoculars. She knew exactly what she was looking for. A city by mountains with eagles ( Eagle Mountain- very clever Blackbeard!), a bunch of trees, a pile of rocks, a large hill, and finally a large X to mark the spot. Jake obediently turned at every command. We ended up clear out past Cedar Fort near five mile pass.


Once we located the spot Tylie, Mason, and I had to drop dad off and go around the hill and hide. Dad had to make sure that there were no pirates guarding the treasure and he would call us back once safety was guaranteed. The area was deemed pirate free- we came back.

We hunted until we found the X.

And commenced digging.

Until we found the treasure. Tyliecould hardly believe her eyes. Sure enough, under that X, was a treasure. Hundreds of years old. Strangely there was a Rapunzel doll ( a movie made just last year ) and candy bars that were still good. It was filled with money, glow sticks, and cars for Mason. She felt bad for the kids that Blackbeard stole all this stuff from but figured she would just take care of all of it for them.

The treasure hunt was fun and quite the adventure for all involved. Jake has since been instructed to keep the fairy tales on the weekends and to avoid disturbing bed time. I know- I am the party pooper!

I'm Alive!!!!

I don't even know why I am on here. It has been so long since I have written that it is quite arrogant of me to believe that anyone would still check or even care what it going on. Jake's mom and sisters give me hope though because they will mention every so often that they notice I haven't blogged in a while. So with my arrogance flying high in the wind, I get on here again.

Life has been interesting. With my third baby well on his way, I find myself almost oblivious to how time is flying. In my mind I know that I am six months pregnant but Jake and I continue to act like we have another year to prepare and sit idly by as the clock ticks closer and closer to my water bursting. Everyone asks what name we have picked out and each time I can't help but laugh out loud. Not that it is a funny question but the fact that Jake and I don't even have a single name that we kind of agree on is a problem. This poor little boy is going to go home as "baby hancock" while Jake and I battle it out on a half decent name. Mason continues to sleep soundly in the crib that will be the baby's. Once again, we ignore the fact that we need to get him a new bed so there will be a place for the baby. It is also somewhat embarrassing that Mason is old enough to be potty trained but we have not moved him into a big boy bed. He can harass me about that when he is a teenager. Maybe some psychologist will tie some security issues he has as an adult to the fact that his parents didn't let him progress. I digress....

One thing that has undoubtedly stayed the same is the fact that Mason is still terrorizing me, tylie, my house, and anything else I own. Just a few days ago Tylie came bounding up the stairs screaming at the top of her lungs. Since I could not decipher what she was saying between gasps of air and rants, I hurried down the stairs. I have experienced these types of moments before and knew Mason was up to something. As I turned to corner in my kitchen, there was Mason standing on my kitchen table. "Mom, I naughty", he tells me with a grin on his face. He had pulled my dining room light out of the ceiling and it was hanging dangerously close to my table by only the wires. Tylie rehearsed the whole story and apparently Mason thought he could hang by the light and it didn't quite work out the way he thought it would. Thank goodness Jake is handy and can fix these sort of disasters that Mason loves to create. He also cracked his head open at my grandma's several weeks ago as he was bounding through her living room. He decided to play chicken with his head and a door frame and the door frame won hands down. As I watched blood poor out of my child's head, I questioned Heavenly Father about sending me another boy. He has much more faith in my than I do in myself because I almost broke down and cried. Jake insisted that it is not that big of a deal and that he will think it is cool to have a scar streaking down his forehead. Like it is some sort of badge of honor. All it does for me, each time I look at that scar, it remind me that I have a lot of growing to do in order to be able to handle this. I pray each night that this baby boy will be mild, but not too mild because he is going to need some spunk to ward off his older brother.

Things are going to change dramatically for me in this next year. Tylie will be off to kindergarten. My mild little leader will be absent from our home five days a week and Mason will be left at the helm to lead. I shiver at the thought. Breathe, Andrea, breathe.

texting

I love it when Jake texts me from work. He is usually so busy that it is hard for him to slow down to even send me a quick message. So, when I do get messages from him they are succint, precise, and to the point.

Ever since Sunday morning, my car keys have been missing. I had run to the store on Saturday and not gone anywhere since then so I knew they had to be somewhere in the house but that was as far as I had got. I have just been using the spare set but each day that went by, I became more and more concerned. I had assumed they would pop up while I was cleaning but they

cotinued to elude me. This morning I woke up with a new found determination and so my day began cleaning my house from top to bottom and checking every nook and cranny along the way. By two o'clock in the afternoon, I was completely exausted, frustrated, and remained keyless. I text Jake to update him that the hunt was unsuccessful. He text me back, "Did you pray?" I was ashamed and embarassed to text back that I hadn't. With my tail between my legs I slumped into my family room and dropped to my knees. After fervently pleading for help in my trivial task, I rose to my feet and scanned the room. Then I had an idea. I slid my feet into my slippers and snuck outside so not to wake up Mason. As I approached the garbage can, I was happy to find that my disgust was outweighed by my want to find these keys. I found my inner dumper diving self and plunged into the first bag. Half way down my keys came spilling out. My little Mason had done it again. He often throws things away and this time he had done it without getting caught. After soaking my hands in near boiling water, I text Jake again. I told him that within 10 minutes of praying I had found the keys and explained where they were. He texted back very simply. "Get on your knees. Say thank you. Then go beat Mason." Done deal daddy-o!

P.S. The demon struck again today. This time it was my pillows. Either Jake is sending him subliminal messages to destroy the pillows or Mason is going for a full bedset for graduation!

motherhood

I have been a mom for almost five years now. I have had my ups and downs but generally enjoy all it has to offer. One afternoon in the fall I was sitting on my bed sorting laundry when I realized that my bedspread was much dirtier than any laundry I was going to do that day. Jake and I have never had a fancy bed set and when I had Tylie, I was grateful for that. A few days after we brought Tylie home from the hospital, I quickly discovered that any bodily fluid that can come out of a baby will eventually end up on your bed. Nothing changed when Mason was born so over the years my comforter has been through many battles. I would wash it often but some of those scars were permanent. Since Mason is almost potty trained and no new babies are in the house, I decided it was time for a new bed set. The day after Thanksgiving came and in all the madness I found a set that I loved. It was beautiful and it was in another lady's hand. She was on the phone trying to decide if she wanted the more neutral color or the more bold one with blue in it. As I sat there praying she was feeling bold, my sisters jumped into action. They convinced her that she would be much happier with blue and thus walked away from my set. Once she was safely out of site, I snatched my set and marched straight to the register. This set was complete with sheets, pillow cases, shams, decorative pillows, bed skirt, and beautiful bed spread. I rushed home to show Jake my treasure and he was less than thrilled. He HATES decorative pillows because he sees them as a blockade to collapsing into bed each night. Lucky for me, though, I have selective hearing so I just blocked him out as I carefully took each piece out of it's packaging. I smoothed the sheets until not a wrinkle was in sight, I tugged each corner of the bed spread until it cascading in all the right places, and I lay the pillows out in different configurations until it looked just perfect. I could picture myself snuggled in my bed somewhere high in the clouds. I was thrilled.

A couple of weeks went by and each morning I would smile as I nestled each pillow into its rightful place. I would wander through my room and grin from ear to ear. I felt like such an adult! Whoever said you can have anything nice while you have kids? One afternoon I walked upstairs and noticed the kids were watching a cartoon in my room. I went into my bathroom and a few short minutes later I came out only to have my worst horror realized. There stood Mason next to my bed. He had a permanent marker in his hand and was violently attacking my bedspread. I willed my legs to move but they felt like lead. By the time I snatched the horrible ink-ridden marker out of that grubby little hand, the damage was done. My princess bed had been permanently scarred.

In my rage I threw Mason in his room, slammed the door, and reached for the phone. I called Jake and informed him that he probably wouldn't have a son when he got home. Jake tried to be sympathetic but I know that secretly he was pumping his fist in victory that he wouldn't have to deal with the decorative pillows anymore. "Well," he said, "have him sign it." What??? Am I really hearing this? Has my husband lost it? Is he really telling me to willfully allow Mason back to my precious bed to sign his name??? Lunatic! He continues, "Ang, there is nothing we can do about it now. Have him sign it. Put the date on it. One day this will be funny and you will want to remember this." I was not convinced. What did he really expect me to do with a king sized comforter that has been defaced. Did he want me to save it for him and give it to Mason on his graduation day? I can see it now... "Look son, you have come so far!" Ridiculous. After a few more minutes of breathing into a paper bag, I did what any obsessive person would to with something that they cherished. I walked into Mason's bedroom, gave him a hug and a kiss, and told him I was sorry. And I cried. I then got on my knees and told Heavenly Father sorry for allowing myself to throw a tantrum over a material thing, I walked into my room and flipped the comforter over so you can't see the scars from the door. And I had him sign it. One day it will be funny but I am not there yet. I am learning the tough lessons of motherhood. This lesson? No, as a mom you really can't have anything nice. But I have my kids and that is enough. And I bet I am the only mom around that can claim they have their son's graduation gift 16 years ahead of schedule.

Friendship

Here's to my friends, my true friends.
The friends that I can see everyday for a year or just one day a year and it is never awkward.
The friends that make me feel like I am a kid without making me act like one.
The friends that know the difference between being honest and being mean.

Here's to my friends who know that they are not first on my priority list and are grateful they are not.
The friends that know when to leave me alone and when to come banging on my door.
The friends that recognize my faults but point out my perfections.
The friends that make my feel closer to my Savior after a long conversation on the doorstep.

Here's to my friends that know I found my "Best Friend" on a day I was dressed in white,
The friends that tell me no because they are with their families.
The friends that keep their eye on the eternal prize and encourage me to do the same.

Long gone are the days of sleepovers, "BFF" charm bracelets, and whispering in the corner.
Now are the days of friendship that is enriching, eternal, and loving.

You know who you are without me saying it.
Here's to my friends!

Trying to keep your kids entertained all while picking up the house can be very difficult at times. I try to get my house cleaned every morning but I find the my kids get bored so quickly that they are either killing each other or killing the rooms that I just cleaned. I find that it takes me twice as long because I have to clean every room two or three times before I am done. Recently I discovered a little game that seems to solve this problem; at least for a minute anyway.
The other day while I was loading my dishwasher, I stumbled into a game. Tylie was in the living room and I started to tease her that she had to stay on the carpet. If she strayed onto the tile, the mean troll would snatch her and take her away. The carpet is her only safe zone. I know this seems silly but she grabbed onto this and giggled relentlessly. For the next forty-five minutes, mommy got to clean the kitchen to spotless while the mean troll would sporadically spring after a little girl who dared to tread on the tile. It would take her some time to build up the courage for each daring trip so, while the troll was lying in wait, mommy got some good cleaning time. The best part of this is that Mason even got in on the action and was mesmerized by the whole show. Although it took me much longer to clean the kitchen because I had to keep breaking for the attacks, when I was done, the house was still clean and I got some playing time in with my kids. Ever since then, Tylie insists that I clean the kitchen so we can play again. I never thought I would hear my daughter beg me to clean. It cracks me up. So, here is to all the mama's out there who have to be creative with their parenting!

Potty time

The time has come. Or maybe I should say, I forced the time to come because I was ready for it. I decided last week that Mason was starting potty training. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision. I have been told over and over again that boys are sooooo much harder than girls and age two-and-a-half to three is pretty standard for them. This has been a hard pill to swallow for me because Tylie was completely trained by the time she turned two and I really liked that. I started with Mason understanding that this might not be easy. I told myself that although he might not be ready, I am. So with that I needed to be open to some failures and regression. I knew that I needed to watch him carefully and not push him too hard. Especially with my little man. He is as stubborn as his mama and I knew that if I didn't pitch this as his idea, he was not going to do it. This is an ever so delicate balance but with enough skittles and "choo-choo" underwear (thomas the train), I thought I might have a shot. It was a target the size of a pea and I was standing at the other end of the field but, after changing another poopy diaper, it was a shot I was willing to risk. Well, thanks to Mason helping me aim, it is a shot that I am happy to announce we nailed right on. Mason has done amazingly well. I dare say, even better than Tylie. It took him a couple of days to figure out the control of things and recognize that he had to go but since then, it has been smooth sailing. I have not had to change a dirty diaper for 3 days and no, he is not constipated. He also just finished his second day of underwear all day with no accidents. Wahoooooooo! If you live in Utah county and you think you hear a coyote howling at the moon at night, you are wrong. It is me giving praises to the potty gods that convinced my crazy boy that this is a good idea. So, chalk it up. Write it in ink in the record books. Mason made something easier on me than Tylie did. And it is the thing that everyone told me not to expect. But, come to think of it, that is just the way that Mason would like to have it. Completely unexpected.
P.S. Gotta love Halloween!