I Told You So!

I was right about those 4 way stop bullies. I knew I was on to something. Thanks, Amy!

In some ways, this Portlandia show is eerily accurate. Curious? Season 1 is now on Netflix.

Kate is ever the camera hog. I was trying to take a nice, serene picture of my Sarah, when Kate jumps into screen. She can't pass up an opportunity to shine/steal the show/hog the spotlight. One of the million things I love about her.
One of the million things I love about my boy is his camera face. While Blakely grunted and tried to eat Margaret's face off, and Margaret screamed, Jacob just sat there, patiently waiting for his Mom and crazy Aunties to stop taking pictures.

So, I'm retarded, but let's not state the obvious here. On Saturday, Neal was repairing a broken drawer. I was headed to Lowe's to get a few items for something I was working on. He asked me to buy him some shims. So, I asked the nice man in the wood section where they sold their shivs. He laughed and said, "Are you planning to shank someone in prison?" Man, there's another time when the girl card can get you out of trouble. "Just smile and look like a dumb girl. Go ahead. It got you out of this scrape a couple of years ago. "

Speaking of girls, my youngest girl has us worried, but really made us laugh. While headed to Utah, we stopped in Reno for some grub at the Burger King. Reno isn't known for its fancy parts. We parked next to a pick-up truck. On the back was a lovely sillouette sticker of a naked lady in heels with an angel halo and wings. Abigail said, "Mom! Look at that pretty fairy! That's my favorite fairy! I really like it Mom!"

From now on, whenever I see those smutty stickers or mud flaps, I'm going to think of my sweet Abby. I'm ruined.

Good Bye Uncle Reese!

So much for "Three for Thursday." How does "68 for Saturday" sound?

All of those Hansen rug-rats grew up. I really like these fellas. We decided at the last minute to drive to Utah to say goodbye to my baby brother, Reese, as he leaves for Afghanistan with the Utah Guard 211th.

Very emotional.
A hangar full of family being separated.

We both have that same goofy, over-confident, high-eyebrow smile. We get it from our Dad.
These brothers have to stick together amongst all of the sisters.

How do you say goodbye to an 8 month old baby and a lovely wife?

The dumbest thing about war is that the bad guys also have mothers, fathers, siblings, wives, children, and nieces and nephews. It's crazy and nuts and adds up to a terrible math equation. American soldiers don't have a corner on the market when it comes to the smiles of their families.

My Grandpa Hansen served with the Utah Guard in WWII. They were The Timberwolves and were called up in 1942. He was in the European theater and saw some action. He left behind a young wife and a little baby.

He never talked about the war. There was no such thing as PTSD. Well, there was such a thing, but you were S.O.L. when it came to remedies for such things. Your choices were alcohol, depression, suppression, bad dreams, wrecked marriages and the like. My Dad says in hind-sight that my grandpa suffered from depression. I have a lot of compassion for my grandpa.

My grandpa spent the last few weeks of his life living at my parents house. We happened to live next door to my parents, and were able to spend some time with him. The day before he died, I had the opportunity to speak to him when he was incredibly lucid. I asked him about the war.

He told me things I don't think he'd ever told anyone else.

He said he hated it. He hated being close to guys one day, and then they were gone the next.

When the European conflict ended, my grandpa was in Cologne, Germany. Neal served a chunk of his mission there. The entire big city was rubble, with the exception of the Dom cathedral. My grandpa expressed his horror and sadness at the loss amongst the German people. He said that they were people, just like him. A young boy helped him find water so that my grandpa could shave. My grandpa kept saying, "They were regular people, just like us." I could tell that it was a sad irony and terrible realization that the enemy are our brothers and sisters and we have so much in common.

My grandpa told me of the boat ride home across the Atlantic. He said that it was like the lights had gone out in his life during the war.

Here is my brother's facebook status as he left:

"Received a blessing from my father this evening, and then I gave my wife and daughter one. It was hard, but I made it through. I am going to miss them so badly, it hurts. I feel a little like someone is dimming out the lights to my world, and I have to wait a year for them to turn it back on. I love you Laura and I love you, Blakely."

War is terrible.

The Bullies of the 4 Way Stop

If I would have waited 2.5 more seconds to take this shot, it would have been a sweet barf shot. No wonder he was crying.

According to my drivers ed tutelage from Mr. Applegate back in 1991, there are certain rules of order that apply when you meet other drivers at the 4 way stop. However, those rules don't seem to apply in the Salem-Keizer area.

What I often encounter at the 4 way stop is the "wave through." Even when it's not my turn, there is usually someone there who waves me through. I feel like they're telling me what to do and bossing me around, and I don't like it. They think they're being polite (don't get me started on the exceedingly nice drivers here), but they're a bunch of bullies.

I bet Taylor Swift isn't a bully. She seems like such a nice gal. Kate has all of her music, which means I know all of her music, and I must admit, she's kind of growing on me. I'm not a fan of country music, but that Taylor Swift is just so sweet and talented, I just can't help but like her. As much as I dislike concerts, I would probably take Kate to see her.

It's not that I don't like the musicians at the concerts I've been to, it's that I don't like the other concert goers, and it totally cancels out any love I have for the performers. Fools sing and dance at concerts, and I'm no fool. It bugs me.

Here are the concerts I've wasted my money, or a guys money on in my life:

Chicago (date's money)

INXS (my Ream's job money)

MC Hammer/Boyz 2 Men (date's money)

Z 93 Summer music festival with classic rock has-beens performing (Ream's job money)

Alanis Morrisette (my college money)

Oingo Boingo (my college money)

U2 (our poor newlywed money)

Natalie Merchant (our poor newlywed money)

After about 1999, I decided not to waste any more money on concerts. A CD with a good set of speakers is good enough for me. I'll only sing to my music when I'm totally alone - not when I'm sitting in an arena with 20,000 fools. I also enjoy Austin City Limits sometimes, because I can watch in my pj's and turn it of when I get tired.

More Surprises! And Three on Thursday.

I love the attention span of 3 year olds. Out of sight, out of mind for her box of Reese's Pieces that has been in the pantry since the Christmas Stocking Clean-up of 2011. I now have the flavor of Reese's Pieces on my breath. I must hide the box in the recycle container out in the garage before she sees it and her 3 year old memory kicks in. That kid has a crazy good memory. She's also like a GPS. It freaks me out a little. It's kind of "Rainman" ish.

So, I have noticed that blogging amongst my friends and family has been declining since last summer. Mine has been too. I was too freaking tired to blog much during the pregnancy. Now that the child is out, I'm too freaking tired to blog much. And busy. But, that doesn't mean I have given up. I've been keeping up, but not as much as I would like. I still take notes throughout the day-to-day and keep then in my secret file on my phone so that I don't forget things that pop into my mind and are blog-worthy. A friend of mine thought of a great blogging idea called "Three on Thursday." You post 3 pictures that you have taken during the week and blog about them. That way, you can stay current. And, I can get some of my blogging friends back.
Why, oh why do I have Korean cd's on my be-jeaned lap? Remember the bounty that a used car can provide? Well, add 5, count that 5, Koren cd's to our van-bounty. We were driving down to the Eugene area, and I was attempting to load some cd's into the player of the van. They wouldn't go in. So I decided to hit the eject button, and out popped 5 of these puppies.

Here's what we know about the previous owner of the van thus far:

1. He was a he, judging by the scent of after-shave that permeated the steering wheel (problem managed, by the way. The new steering wheel cover made my hands smell like rubber, so I took it off. The scent has worn away and no longer transfers to my hands).


2. He lived in Hawaii, according to Carfax.


3. He possibly had a light-sensitivity issue due to the after-market window tinting. The windows are so freaking dark, it's hard to see out the back window. Even in the day! Good for sunny Hawaii, bad for sunless Oregon.


4. If he did not have a light-sensitivity issue, then he was a Koren drug dealer or mob member. Why else would you need windows that dark?


5. He was in his 50's, judging by the scent of aftershave (definitely not Axe or any other hipster scent). Also, the back seats have no evidence that children ever set foot in that thing.


6. He wore sunglasses of a superior making, suggesting he was not often in the company of children. If he was often if the company of children, the sunglasses I found would have been either cheap gas-station variety, or broken fancy sunglasses. That also supports my theory of his age.


7. Another reason to believe his age and "lack of hanging out with children" status was the manner in which I found the change in the secret change compartment. First, it was a lot of quarters. I have yet to meet a parent of young children who has that amount of quarters in anything but the couch cracks. Quarters tend to disappear when kids are around. They were organized and bountiful. If the van was a child-riding van, the secret chamber would have been filled with candy wrappers, pennies, a car wash token or two, paperclips, toenails, chewed gum, and possible errant .22 bullets.


8. He was Korean.

Holy crap, did I miss my calling as a detective, or WHAT?

Hey! Who invited Lord Vader to the Nativity party? Or, as Abby says, "Dart Vader." She also says RD2D2 (pronounced R-dee-two-dee-two. So cute!!).

Four generations of Peton boys! It's pronounced "Pee-tun," by the way, for all of you who have never heard my last name . This could be a revelation to some of you just like I had about the pronunciation of Hermione Granger's first name. I didn't know how to read it in my head until the 4th book when she taught that eastern european quidditch player how to say her name. It seriously messed me up for a while! Up until then, I thought it was pronounced "Her-moin."

This is a picture of of my kids and Neal's grandparents. Is sure is nice to still have some grandparents around. We spent New Years Eve down at their place in Vaneta. It's always fun to go there. They have sheep and horses and dogs and cats and room for my kids to run around.

My four kiddos and four pictures. So I guess we can call today "Three + 1 Thursday."

The Christmas Exhale

This is but a sample of what goes on when Mom sleeps in and yells from her bedroom, "If you're hungry, just eat what's in your stockings!"A little Coke Classic, mixed with Reese's Pieces, candy cane and Cheetos. Abby was actually drinking it. It just proves that she has no discernment when it comes to sugar. She likes it all.
Mr. Man getting a much needed Sunday nap.

I liked this whole "Christmas on Sunday" business. Our meeting starts at 9, and we told the kids they could open their stockings before church, but we had to wait till after to open presents. Also, they had to be ready for church before they touched their stockings. I've never seen them get ready so fast! It was a good deal.

Our meeting was great. Sarah played a flute obbligato to Silent Night while the congregation sang. That's my favorite Christmas song. It was really nice to worship on Christmas. It brought a good feeling to our hearts as we headed home to rip open our presents.

Jacob missed the whole "present opening" bonanza. He was sleeping so soundly when we got home from church, that we just left him to dream. I love shopping for a -1 year old. All I spent on my boy was $6.49.

Abigail has been our best toy-playing kid yet. It's nice, because I feel like it's money well spent when we get toys for her. One of her toys was a play cash register, complete with fake food and a working intercom. I overheard a conversation between Kate and Abby as they played with the register. It went something like this:

Kate: (of course, she was in charge of pushing the buttons and ringing up the groceries) That will be $32 please. I need your money.

Abby: NO!!

Kate: Mam, I need you to pay me your money, or I won't give you your groceries.

Abby: NO!!

Kate: (speaking into intercom) SECURITY!!! Come to check stand 1 please!

I told Neal not to buy me any gifts because I'm the proud owner to a new van and dryer. Neal ignored me and bought me a new 12" non-stick frying pan, some socks, perfume, and a steering wheel cover. He couldn't believe that I would be satisfied with a dryer. He just doesn't understand that this gal, with a fondness for laundry, is giddy for the new dryer.

I really needed that steering wheel cover because the previous owner of the van must have splashed after shave on his face and hands every morning before he drove to work. When I drive the van, it makes my hands smell like nasty Brut. It's pretty gross. I tried several cleaning products and procedures on the steering wheel, but it still transferred man smell to my hands. Hopefully the steering wheel cover works. I guess that's a consequence of buying a used car.

But, another consequence is what you might find in said "used car." When I was pulling out the drink holder (my diet coke cozy), I heard the jingle-jangle of change. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from, till I found the secret change compartment. There was $5 in quarters hidden in that thing! Then, we were driving down to Eugene, and I was fiddling with the secret sunglasses compartment, and I found some sexy new sunglasses! I needed new sunglasses because I recently misplaced mine. I love life's little free surprises!

You Are Being Replaced, My Dear Lover.

Someone got kicked out of the garage and onto Craigslist. Out with with old, in with the new, I guess. I'm going to miss old Tithing Van. Seriously. I'm really going to miss her, and it was great while it lasted.


But the new Honda van is much sexier and younger, and it's time to move on.


Merry Christmas to me!! A new dryer and a new van, all in a few weeks time? I think I just might piddle!

Buying cars from dealerships is tortuous. We were there all day, and into the night. Abby and Jacob were with me for most of that time. At one point, an employee gave Abby a giant red balloon. The fun lasted a while. The next day, Sarah asked where the balloon came from. "You bought a new van, and all they gave you was a red balloon? You got a really crappy deal, Mom."

Look who had a birthday! She's a whole fart-teen years old, and she's the best!! Her nose is stuck in her new Kindle as we speak. Her choice of food was Outback Steakhouse (she'd heard about the "bloomin' onion," and also has a thing for Aussies), and an ice cream bar for dessert. Fourteen candles have a tendency to melt ice cream rather quickly.

On family night, we took a spin through the neighborhood to look at the Christmas lights. Our little area has a Christmas light route that gets quite a lot of traffic. It started almost 30 years ago with some friendly neighborly competition with Christmas decorations. People started driving by to see, more neighbors joined in, and it became a tradition. They take food and cash donations for the Marion Polk food share and raise tens of thousands of dollars, as well as tons of food every Christmas. Have I mentioned before that I love my neighborhood?This year they had a horse rescue group that was seeking donations. Look who got to torture one of the horses? A highlight of the night, for sure.

Many of the houses have big wooden stockings in their yards with the names of family members. The first such house that we saw with stockings was the house of "Jean" and "Bob." Kate looked, read, looked, puzzled, and then said, "Mom. What's a JeanBob?"

Duh, Kate. Duh.

Every year on a certain Saturday, Fireman Santa drives through every street of Keizer, sounds his sirens, and hands out candy canes and photo ops to the kids that chase him down. Actually, the Mom chased him down at our house. Kate was looking for her shoes.

Have I mentioned that I love my neighborhood?
This is about as comfortable as Abigail was going to get while she talked to Santa. If she would have known it was Scott, I'm sure she would have jumped right onto his lap.

Jake, on the other hand, was at ease.


I heart this boy.

This past Sunday, we had no problem getting the kids up for church that starts at 9. Usually, I have to do some stern "encouraging" to get Kate out of bed. But they were all up just after 6 on Sunday morning. The secret ingredient? A RA-coon (that's how Abby says it). Neal was letting the dog out before he left for his meetings, and the dog started going nuts. On the back fence was a giant raccoon. Neal ran upstairs to the girls room to have them look out the window at the visitor. They were pretty excited as they watched the raccoon walk back and forth on the fence. It was great Sunday morning fun.

I think the dog was agitated and piddle-suppressing for the rest of the day.

Proper Planning

The TV has been on a little too much for my liking lately. A couple of years ago, I drastically cut back my tv watchin to almost zero. But then we got Netflix. Then, I had a baby and found myself on the couch more often, with the remote control within easy reach. Soon, I started watching "24." Abigail has been my little couch buddy - not very good parenting, considering all of the violence, yelling and guns. She would see me turn the tv on and she would say, "Are you watchin 24? Did Jack Bauer die? Is he shootin someone?" During one of the many car explosions, she said, "Ooooo! There's a fire! They better get their marshmallows! They're going to go campin and have so much fun!"

I could stand to improve some of my parenting skills.

He looks like he just got the crap scared out of him.

On Sunday night, we made Christmas sugar cookies. I had to put on my patient face as all the kids, including Neal, hovered. I hate hovering. But I kept telling myself that I wanted them to have fun, so I had to deal with the cookie cutters being put right in the middle of the dough, not minimizing the scraps. Why does that bug me so much? It's no big deal.

As we were cleaning up and eating errant pieces of dough off the counter, I picked up what I thought was a piece of dough, and put it in my mouth. It was hard. It was Kate's tooth that she had lost earlier in the day. Seriously, so gross.

Last evening was the kind of evening I work very hard to avoid, because it was freaking chaotic. So chaotic, in fact, that I just kept laughing. I was working all day trying to type the Christmas letter one-handed, because Jacob was a bit fussy, and I was holding him for much of the day. I also had a million other things going on, but I could manage. Kate kept asking me to fix her pants. She had some serious butt crack going on because the elastic button thing had come undone and disappeared inside of the waist band. We had plans later for Family Night to visit a grandma in the ward, give her some cookies, and sing some Christmas songs to her. I thought I had it all covered. But then Sarah said, "Mom, I have to be at the school in a half hour. It's my Christmas concert tonight."

Crap. I totally forgot.

Ok, I would run to Burger King really fast, and get some whopper jr's. That will keep everyone happy and solve the time crunch problem. I decided I would bring Jacob in the hope that a ride in the car would make him happy. Of course, Abby wanted to come with. So, she put on her rain boots with no socks, insisted on a puffy pink coat that is size 24 months and was "fat man in a little coat" status, and lumbered her way into the van. Very noisily, of course. She only has one volume. And I don't remember the last time I did her hair. "MOM! When are you going to fix my pants! My butt crack is showing!" Kate yelled to me as I went out the door.

I got to the Burger King and ordered our food. When I got to the drive thru window and went for my wallet, I realized that it wasn't with me. Oops. When the worker lady opened the window to take my money and give me my food, I said, "Sorry. I forgot my wallet." I drove away really fast, glad that I didn't know them and they didn't know me. All the while, Jacob was fussing and Abby was talking about 30 decibels too loud.

I went home, empty handed, and it was time to go to the concert. "Sorry kids, but we're going hungry. We've got to get to the concert." All the while, I couldn't get through to Neal to let him know that our evening plans were changing fast. "MOM!" Kate said, yet again, "Fix my pants! They won't stay up!"

"Shut up Ralphie!"

I finally got in touch with Neal just in time for him to make the concert and accept the fact that he would be hungry. The concert was great. After, we visited with Sister S. and sang her a couple of Christmas songs, and Sarah played her flute. Abby played in the other room and tortured her poor pomeranian. It was so nice, not our singing or the pet torture, but the flute and the visiting. The rumbling of our stomach's made for fine back ground accompaniment.

Finally, we found ourselves at Carl's Jr at 9pm on a school night.

My drugs must be working pretty good, because I was able to handle last night and didn't kill anyone.