Psychological Warfare

I'm fast asleep in my bed in the cool early hours of dawn...

Gradually from the recesses of my mind I begin to hear something...

I can't quite make it out, but I know I've heard it before...

I begin to wander into consciousness as I try to understand what it is...

No, I don't want to know what it is, it's too early and I want to sleep...

But my mind has been stirred, and it won't let me go back, besides...

I am still hearing that familiar sound.  I feel inexplicably irritated, but why?...

I begin to recognize that it's my husband's voice, softly whispering something to me...

What is he saying?  I feel even more annoyed but am confused by my feelings...

I snap into consciousness and I realize what he's murmuring into my ear:

"Mele kalikimaka.  Mele kalikimaka.  Mele kalikimaka..."

"Honey," I say as sweetly as I can, "why are you saying that to me?"

A wide grin breaks across his face and he finishes tying his second shoe.  "Oh, I just thought it would be funny to get that stuck in your head today."

Irritation.  Then brilliance!  I'm going to plunge that song right down into his brain!  I break into song!

"Mele kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day.
That's the island greeting that we send to you from a land where palm trees sway.
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright,
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night.
Mele kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say merry Christmas to you!"

     Repeat!

"That'll show him!" I think.

I've been singing it all day.  Gah!!

Joseph Soren

Can't get enough of this little critter.

And speaking of critters, a congratulatory email from my younger sister Bethany included this picture with the note, "Just reminded me of Mama Allen."  Yep, it's how I feel and I wouldn't change it for anything!  And now I need a nap.

Journal Entry

My journal entry from 17 April 2015 says something like this:

I'm 6 days overdue.  Go figure.  They always tell me I'll go into labor earlier this time.  I never do.  Being induced at noon.  Guess I'd better get Clara to take a picture of 41 weeks before I go.

Journal entry from 18 April 2015:

In shock.  Yes, complete shock.  Just had a 10 lb, 22 inch toddler!  I would be hating life at this exact moment if it weren't for the most beautiful--or at least I think he will be soon--little boy sleeping next to me.  It never gets old.  Even by #8 it is still just as exciting and wonderful.  How in the world did I get so lucky?

Introducing Joseph Soren Allen, reigning champion of the siblings, commanding respect from the first moment he breathed and striking fear into the hearts of all would-be challengers!  When he's not snuggling with his momma.

Garbage

"Hey William, I need to you to gather and take out all the garbage for me."  Two shakes later I'm about to call him again when he appears saying he's ready.

A week later...
"Hey Audrey, I need you to grab this garbage for me and take it out."  Two shakes later, I'm about to call her again when I turn around and involuntarily scream.  She says she's ready.

And I'm left wondering:  Is there something wrong with our garbage or our children?

Stowaway

MJ and I went on a date.  You know, dinner, a movie, a run to the grocery store to get stuff for the next morning's Sunday breakfast.  We come home, tidy up, check on sleeping kids and animals and head up for bed.  In the bathroom I turn on the hot water to wash my grimy face, put my hair in a pony, and lo and behold!

 What's this tucked into my sweater?

Come to think of it, I had been playing hide and seek with Penelope and her little toy before we left, and she had been reaching for me and fussing when I walked out the door, and I had felt just a little uncomfortable sitting against that theater chair back for those two hours...

 

Gentle Readers, what is wrong with me?  I'm thinking if I dig around in the toy box enough I just might find my brain.

Ballet

Somebody I know just started point.

Cabbage Patch Pippi

Love this little chub!

During Sunday School a couple of weeks ago I was asked to read a scripture from the Old Testament.  I replied I could not, my dog ate my scriptures.  They laughed.  I did not.

Alas, I spoke truly.  My dog really did eat them.  Swallowed several pages.  In an effort to save her from certain destruction, Clara pleaded, "Mom, please try hard not to kill Gretel.  She didn't mean it! They just looked so tasty to her!"  This is especially sad for me because these were the set my folks gave me at my baptism nearly thirty years ago, and there are markings and thoughts contained in them from my childhood venturing into the world of doctrine, manifestions of real spiritual work and study.  Now is my opportunity to get another set of scriptures, introduce myself and make some memories with it...

"Clara"

What an honor to have a younger sibling for an artist.  Free portraits and everything.  Below is entitled simply "Clara," by Audrey.  She said that it is of a sad Clara, lost because "she din't stick where her family was."  This is usually accurate.  Minus the sad part...

Allen Family Picture

Audrey walked in whilst I labored over house things, "Mom, I have a present for you.  It's a family picture that I drawed."  Then, in a scandelous whisper, "It's us being ladybugs!  Can you find Pip?"

Driving down the driveway with James next to me (one of the advantages of a mile-long driveway), he pointed out rather academically that he knew what all those letters and numbers mean.

Me:  "Oh yeah?  What do they mean, I've always wondered."
James:  "Okay, I'll tell you:
          Park.
          Random.
          Nice.
          Drive.
          3-d.
          2-d.
          100 years old.
"It's pretty easy.  You just have to know stuff."

Stop & Smell

Ironic.  Either the designer of this cute little shirt had no forethought or a devilish sense of humor.  I think the flowers featured here are a Dead Horse Arum Lily, Carrion Flower, Spit-Up Creeper, and Skunk Cabbage respectively.  Nuzzle in. I dare you...

Happy Valentine's Day

For all the Valentines in our lives (you know who you are!), the Allen ladies have prepared a festive visual snack:

Happy Valentine's Day!  With love from your ladies.

MERRY (belated) CHRISTMAS!

It has been an eventful 2013, complete with location and personnel changes in Michael's endo practice, preparations for moving to a new house--including building the darn thing, having a baby (how did we ever live without this little lady?!), changes in callings at church and being welcomed by so many new friends in our new ward, trying out new sports (lacrosse? Yikes!), ballet and piano lessons out the ears, new puppy Gretel, new scars, new places visited, scores of beloved visitors, new stories to tell.  

We cherish the challenges and opportunities 2013 afforded us and hope that as a family we have shown the Lord through word and deed our gratitude for his blessings to our family: "What shall we give to the Lamb who was offered, rising the third day and shedding his love?  Tears for his mercy we'll weep at the manger, bathing the Infant come down from above."

New Year Resolution

For my 2014 resolution, I, Anna, am committing to more faithfully update this blog--not necessarily for the amusement of the occasional cyber nomad who may stumble onto my blog accidentally, like a tourist happening upon an Indonesian train wreck, and who is compelled to stay for the same reason--but because some day my children may wonder about the thoughts of their mother and the workings of the simple life in the Burg from which they hail.  Additionally, I will more faithfully write in my personal journal all the things that aren't really of general interest.  (Not to imply that this blog necessarily is.)  Okay.  I've said it.  Now I have to do it.

Christmas Wish Lists

One of the things I most look forward to during Christmas is receiving the annual Christmas wish lists provided to me kindly by my children.  They are always informative, though not usually in the way they are intended to be.  I keep them as safe as I keep the Christmas pictures.  Here are some highlights (my thoughts are in italics):

Jacob (deprived)
-ipod, cell phone, x-box with games... (and pretty much any electronic item that has thus far eluded him...)
-BYU stuff
-chocolate enrobed caramel macadamia nuts from Costco
-a novaform pillow (like Auntie Mim's)
-everything else on the list was preceded by the word "cool."

Isaac (obsessed)
-a ripstick
-a basketball
-about 8 accessories and food items for his beloved lizards, Topaz the club-footed leopard gecko, and Draco the giant bearded dragon

Clara (destined to be disappointed)
-candy (lots of it)
-gum (lots of it)
-a cornsnake or lizard (babies)
-the little filly that grandpa has
-the pony that grandpa has
-a male cat for Primrose to mate with
-a ferret
-my own room
-a maid
-a servant
-a cook
-good (non boring) books
-anything awesome

William (pretty much guaranteed to get everything on his list, since it was three items long...except maybe the neverending supply of magazines.  So never mind.  He's getting two things for Christmas.)
-red light bulb for lizards (for Snare, his leopard gecko; also on Isaac's list)
-neverending supply of KIDS magazines
-Lego set

James (now Jimmy's list was actually helpful, giving us some realistic ideas of what to get the boy for Christmas, but here were some funny ones...)
-big gumball machine
-big pocketknife
-garbage can in my room

Audrey (Clara acted as scribe, writing down exactly what Audrey said)
-a little bouncy ball
-a basket full of cars
-a michanical gumball sprouter-outer
-1/4 of an inch toy piggy
-a very beautiful skirt with pants (since I always make her wear pants under her skirts during the winter)
-a dove that will never grow up
-a kitten that will never run away or grow up
-a pet turtle that doesn't bite or swim
-a dog
-a horse
-a dog riding on the horse
-a real train
-a little door

A little door?  What do I do with this?  Good thing these kids are sweet, and any complaining is easily curbed with a casual reference to Duddykins.  What a fun time of year this is!  Good luck with your Christmas preparations, Gentle Readers!

Penelope Grace

Audrey: "Hey Momma, I knowed how you got a baby:  You dranked a lot of water a'then you went, ahhh! [scream] and it turned you fat, a'then you needed to get the baby out so you got the baby out, a'then you loved her so much!  Do you want some water, Mom?"

Introducing Penelope Grace who arrived exactly one week late on July 26, after three months of some serious... well I was going to say elephantiasis until I looked it up to verify spelling and saw exactly what it is.  Uh, that is not what I had.  ...Who arrived after three months of some seriously swollen ankles.  Audrey is right, we love her very much and our lives are forever changed.

 

One Monday night shortly after Penelope's birth, we had a family home evening about happiness.  During the lesson I recommended that if ever one of us is sad and can't shake ourselves out of it, simply look at Pippi's feet and we'll be magically cured of the blues.  A week or so later James burst into my room, tears streaming.  He had been injured and needed some comfort.  I reached out to hug him, but he ignored me and went straight to Pip.  He rummaged around in the blankets for a second then fished out a chubby pink foot.  He watched it intently for a few moments as the tiny toes fluttered and curled.  Slowly a smile broke across his face. He wiped his eyes and laughed.  Then he covered her foot again, kissed her head and softly said, "Thank you, Baby."  Then he walked out of the room and closed the door.  

Thus is the magic and blessing of a baby.

James and the Giant Fund Run

I arrived just in time to cheer on the children in their annual fund run, and to pass out water to the little pink faces with sweaty hair plastered to foreheads and necks, beaming with pride in their varied performances.  The track they used is roughly pounded out of a mild hillside behind the school, and a few were still running.  James was one of them.  As he rounded the last stretch the bells went off, signalling the end of their time.  Everyone was screaming Jimmy's name, and adults were patting me on the back and commenting on his remarkable performance. 

"Wow, Jims," I said, benignly patting him on the shoulder, "looks like you did a great job!"
"Thanks, Mom. I could have kept going, but they made me stop because of the bell."
Then one of the regular Fund Run volunteers approached me: "Is James your son? Did you know he ran over six laps in the 15 minutes given to the kindergarteners!" 
"Yeah, so I heard.  That's great!"
"Do you know how far a lap is?  1/3 mile.  Your son (who is one of the youngest in the school having a mid-August birthday) ran over two miles on a hilly gravel path in 15 minutes in 90 degree weather without stopping.  That hasn't happened as long as I've been here.  I bet it's a school record!"

A fund run best it was indeed.  The principle himself announced it over the loud speaker at the end of the day, and his class earned a pizza party because of it, making James the local celebrity for the week.  Clara and Will maximized on his fame, reminding everybody they saw that James Allen, yeah, that's our little brother.  Ever the entrepreneur, Clara even offered to sell his signature.  A book was published about him, written by the illustrious Kathryn Taggart, his doting cousin.  And sweet shy James just looked forward to everybody forgetting all about it (though he is secretly excited for next year's fund run so he can beat his record...).

Finally!  A child that looks remotely like me!

 

I suspect it's just the hair.

It Was the Thought That Counted

While visiting the local hardware store for various replacement keys, picture hangers and other whatnots, my youngest four kids began a quest for the largest nail they could find.  After about 20 minutes I was finished with my business and called to them that it was time to head out.  Four beaming children met me at the door, followed by an elderly employee, with the exciting news that this nice man said they could take this home with them!

"Oh!  How generous of you!"
"Oh, it's nothing ma'am.  I know just how kids are, and I know what sorts of things they like to tinker with.  They can just have these to play with or if they want to build something.  It's nothin'.  You just have yourself a good day."

Feeling bolstered by this gentleman's kindness I walked my kids to the car, buckled them in and had a look...

"...I know how kids are...they can have these to play with...?"  Nice.

And play they did:  Before we reached home we had four pokes, two people crying, one bleeding slightly, another throwing a tantrum because she wanted some nails to play with and couldn't reach.  Half the box was dumped in the back seat (consequently, one of the pokes was in the beezer).  And in an especially bright display one child, with nails wedged between each fisted knuckle, had them pointed straight at his eye wondering aloud what would happen if we hit a big bump with these so close to his face.

"...I know how kids are..." rang in my mind as I confiscated the whole lot!