That's so Funny I Forgot to Laugh!

My (soon-to-be) 2 year old has decided he's quite the funny guy and will tell knock-knock jokes all day long. Problem is he tells the same joke over and over. Let me illustrate:

Noah: Cock-cock (This is probably the funniest part)

Me: Who's there?

Noah: Bana (meaning banana)

Me: Bana who?

Noah: HAHAHAHA!!! Funny!

It was hilarious the first couple of times. Now it just drives me insane.

Lola's jokes are a whole different story. She will make up her own knock-knock jokes and they ALL go something like this:

Lola: Knock-knock

Me: ...

Lola: Mom!! I said Knock-knock!

Me: ... (trying to ignore her--trust me, you get her started and it NEVER ends, and she gets offended if you don't laugh)

Lola: Argh! KNOCK-KNOCK!!

Me: Who is it? (Once again, trying to avoid the pain)

Lola: You're supposed to say "Who's there?"

Me: Quien es?

Lola: MOM!

Me: Who's there?!

Lola: Orange

Me: Orange who?

Lola: Orange-borange-lorange! HAHAHA!!!

And the others are pretty much the same. All she does is look around, find something that catches her eye and then make up words that rhyme. And honestly, she has stomped out of the room if her one-person audience (moi) does not pee her pants and fall to the floor in hysterics. Whoever said mothering was a piece of cake never had aspiring 2 and 4 year old comedians at home.

Year End Letter

The year-end letters have been coming in for a couple of weeks at the Mitchell abode. They are always fun to read, and I honestly feel touched that my friends have me on their Christmas card lists cause let's be honest, I am not the best at the whole "K.I.T" thing. I have infinitely good intentions on that front, but rarely do they amount to much--I guess that's why they're called "intentions" and not "deeds."

I caught this clip one night while the TV was on and it made me kinda chuckle. This by no means reflects my personal feelings, but in the sea of letters that come in every year (I said "sea" like I'm oh-so-popular, riiiiiight...maybe it's more of a river...or a stream.) I must admit that the general feelings portrayed here may have surfaced for a minute or two. I think mostly it must just be my envy of my friend's abilities to have their lives together enough to manage to not only write a year-end letter, but to print and mail out numerous copies of it to their loved ones. I think the idea is great, but then my laziness kicks in and I rationalize that it requires WAY more effort than I can justify. I guess I just figure that for those people who are genuinely interested in the affairs of the Mitchells I have a trusty blog (which fails to get updated regularly, but that's a story for another day). I also have a VERY active (maybe too active) Facebook profile that will pretty much even tell my friends and family what I had for breakfast today (2 cookies--hey it's Christmas time--totally acceptable to have cookies for breakfast), and how I felt about the last episode of Glee (awesome!!). I understand that there are people out there who may not have access to the internet and may not be able to keep up with us through all these technological tools. My parents would be "Blog? Que es eso?! Libro de Cara? De que diablos hablas?!" In such cases year-end letters are fantastic, but I find it much easier to call my mom every couple of days and fill her in on the wondrous adventure that is our life.

So, to summarize, I really do love the year-end letters. I think it's a great way to reflect back on the year as a whole. I think we sometimes fail to see our lives in terms of the "big picture" and thus ofttimes fail to see just how much we've accomplished and how much we've grown. The year-end letter remedies that--not to mention that it's a great way to sum up a whole year's worth of missed emails/phone calls without pointing out what a terrible friend I am for ignoring the people I love. So, please keep those letters coming. They will not be mocked in our household, but rather cherished for reminding me that despite my flaws my friends continue to remember me and love me. But if the number of cards/letters drops next year and I'm inexplicably "un-friended" on Facebook I guess I have only to come back to this post to realize why...

Admit it!

We've all pretended to know the words to a song on the radio and have sounded just like my little friend here!

P.S. He's got sweet ukulele skills!

That Mitchell Boy

Look at this face! Just look at it! What words come to mind? Cute? Adorable? Darling? Precious? All of the above? Yeah. I know! He's the cutest toddler you have ever laid eyes on. I believe it.

Well, this adorable, little package of sweetness has an evil, sinister, and ravenous side. He has picked up the awful habit of biting, and I am all out of ideas as to how to put an end to it! We have tried everything short of reaching for the tabasco sauce. His teeth may be few in numbers, but they are sharp and when he gets them on you he has an amazing sort of death grip.

Lately he's taken to sharing this talent with the kids in the Nursery at church, and as a Nursery worker and mother I'm a little embarrassed. I know, all kids go through this stage. Yaddah, yaddah. yaddah. In the last two weeks he has bitten 3 kids. Two of those within 30 minutes of each other. The last incident was with this adorable little girl, and boy did those little chompers leave a mark. I don't even know how to react anymore! I tried comforting the little girl, and then I tried to deal with Noah, but nothing works! I finally just took him to dad, and banned him from Nursery for the rest of church.

Well, I meant to talk to that little girl's mom, but somehow I just missed her (honestly, I wasn't avoiding her). I ran into her this morning at preschool, and she asked if I had found someone to babysit my kids during my doctor's appointment this week--which is a whole other story, but here is the short version:

I've had trouble finding anyone to watch my kids--for this appointment and a previous one. Like I was seriously freakin' out cause I just couldn't fathom the thought of lugging my (precious, well-behaved) children to the doctor's office. I got to the point that I posted it on a website--kinda like Craigslist, but for my city only and where the majority of the members are Mormon. I felt like I was auctioning my kids--and felt a little embarrassed that I had to resort to this just to find someone to watch my (sweet, and loving) children. I instantly got lots of offers (all from people who do not have kids in our nursery or do not know my Noah, by the way. Coincidence?) and I felt like my embarrassment was for naught.

Back to the biting incident and my conversation with this little girl's mom: So she asked if I had found someone to watch my kids. I told her "yes" rather quickly and proceeded to inquire about her daughter's arm. And she joked with me and said she couldn't watch my kids until the wound healed. Then she said something about how someone after church had told her that it was "that Mitchell boy" that bit her daughter. I laughed, and joked about how he had a bad rap in our nursery (totally deserved). And she wished me luck in the future with him.

I walked away with a smile on my face and then I was like "That Mitchell boy?" Really? Is he that bad? How many other people are calling him that? And then like getting hit in the face with a bucket of cold water it hit me! This boy--this adorable, innocent, little boy has a reputation in our ward! The word is out on that Mitchell boy! And NO ONE will sacrifice the well-being of their children by offering to babysit him! My emails for help have mostly been ignored. Some brave souls have responded and said they were busy and couldn't, but mostly ignored. I was beginning to think my Facebook emails were never delivered or there was some kind of error. BUT NO! Those emails WERE delivered! My friends have just been avoiding me--hoping that they could spare themselves (and their offspring) the punishment of babysitting my (precious) Noah.

Oh how I hope he grows out of this phase soon! But biter or not--that Mitchell boy is MY Mitchell boy!

Snowed In

We had a huge snow storm move in to Denver last week, and the kids thought Christmas had come early--literally. The first day of the storm Lola ran outside and threw herself into the snow to make a snow angel. It took her a few seconds for the shock to set it, and she lay there motionless--unsure of what to do. You see, this is the first time my kids have been in or around snow. She was not prepared for how cold it would feel.

And mom was not prepared to dress her kids appropriately. My kids went out in jeans and cowboy boots or tennis shoes, and we quickly learned that that was not such a bright idea. Problem was, I was forbidden by Curran to drive that first day--which was not a problem cause there was no way I was gonna even try to maneuver an automobile in weather like that. So the kids would go out for like 10-15 minutes at a time, run back indoors, undress by the fireplace and put dry, warm clothes on and then head back outside a while later when their little California-bred bones were warmed. Here are some shots of the kids in the snow. In this first one Noah does have snow bibs on and snow boots--I' m not that bad of a mother!We got a few feet of snow dumped on us, as is evidenced by my snow-covered midget of a son--yes, he is standing up in that pic, and he was quite content in this spot. He fought me when I tried to remove him.

Lola thought it would be fun to dunk her whole face in the snow to get a snow beard...until it started stinging her face, then she just screamed bloody murder. (Notice the lack of appropriate snow gloves and jacket)

If this is how the rest of the winter is going to be I am about ready to pack my things up and run home to my momma!

I have a new excuse for my laziness!

It's been entirely too long since I've posted, and rather than go back and try to fill you in on everything that has happened since we last met I will just start from where we are now:

I just found out from my doctor that I am anemic. I was completely surprised, and feel a little lost as to what to do--I actually got a call from the receptionist who helped me set up an appointment with the doc to discuss this "issue." I instantly went online after that phone call and read about anemia and then scared myself half to death cause I'm almost certain I have the deadly anemia. On a side note, my ob/gyn from my second pregnancy prohibited me from going online and googling illnesses cause I would immediately start to feel symptoms of anything new I discovered.

On the plus side, I did discover that fatigue is a major symptom, and that has given me some relief. I thought I was just being lazy. I had noticed a drastic difference in my sleeping routine and my motivation to do just about anything leaves a lot to be desired, but I thought that having 2 kids and a nursery calling (not to mention the elevation) was causing all this tiredness. Funny enough, now that I know that is a symptom I notice myself being MORE tired than usual. And I've tried using it with Curran as an excuse and it's just not flying. So what good is this illness if it's not going to win me some sympathy?!

So, as I sit and wait for Wednesday to arrive I have gone out and bought lots of fresh spinach and lots of beans--any other ideas?

Are You Serious?!!

It's been a while since I've posted anything. I think we've just been busy trying to find some kind of routine and normalcy out here. I think we've achieved it cause now I'm starting to find myself with some extra time and realizing how far away from home I really am. The few people I have shared these feelings with have been super supportive, and I know time will help. I've given myself lots of little pep talks, and I've been doing my very best at being at any social gathering and meeting new friends. And then...enter our first counselor in the bishopric...

We were at a ward new member social last night at the Bishop's house and things were lovely. We've had quite the influx of new families in the last few months. It was nice to be in a room with a lot of people that felt somewhat like we did. Towards the end we were approached by the first counselor and moved into a quieter area. Then the bomb was dropped...nursery workers?! What?! My first reaction was to scream and grab Curran by his shirt and say "I told you so!!!" Then the tears came. I was speechless.

I don't hate small children. I have two of my own and love them dearly. Thing is, we have a huge ward in a very small building. We have over 20 children in a nursery suitable for maybe half that number. Throw in a whole lot of toys and about 5-6 full-size adult bodies and you have a clausterphobic's worst nightmare!

We've been in the aforementioned nursery since our first week here cause we're having a tough time getting Noah to stay there--so he must be jumping for joy right about now. And now that I think about it the nursery leader must've ratted us out--figured we were gonna be stuck there anyway with a hysterical Noah, might as well make it official.

I usually last about 5 minutes before I feel like I'm gonna pull my hair out--sometimes even thinking it would be easier to just take Noah to class with me just to escape the confines of this room. These are the thoughts I have had as I have observed the workings in our massive nursery:

Dang, sure glad I don't have a nursery calling!
I don't ever want to work in the nursery!
What is that smell?!
Somebody shoot me now.
I gotta get out of here!
Please don't ever let me be called to nursery!

And now here we are. Nursery workers. I honestly am having a rough time coming to terms with this. Since the moment we were asked my head and heart have been in constant prayer. I'm gonna need serious spiritual guidance with this one. I feel a little betrayed to be honest. I feel like I do nursery at home 7 days a week with my own kids. I feel like sometimes my patience wears so thin with my own kids how in the world am I supposed to handle over 20? I know there are other nursery workers there, but since we're being honest...the guys in there walk in, find a spot to sit their behinds in and NEVER move. They're like bumps on a log! Or maybe they're human jungle gyms and do that sitting still bit for the entertainment of the little ones. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Besides, didn't Curran and I put in our time as nursery workers when we were first married? We're done! (We must've done an awful job cause here we are again)Side note: Back then we were ecstatic with the calling being newly married without children. Now we know better.

This morning I woke up thinking: "Come on, Carol. It's only 2 hours on Sundays. That's it! How awful can it really be?" And really, 2 hours isn't really a long time. My Sundays are just sacred. Relief Society has always been such an escape for me. I looked forward to Sundays and the ability to re-energize so I could face another week of being a mom and wife. I feel like this calling will just distance me even more from the sisters I'm trying to form friendships with. It's counter-productive. It goes against all my plans...and THAT is why I got this calling! I always get hit over the head (spiritually speaking) when I try to dig in my heels and do things MY way. I know callings are inspired. I know there is a purpose I do not yet understand. I just wish I could scatter some goldfish crackers on the floor, put out some bowls with water and lock the door as I run far, far away...