Food Hoarders

Bring on the cravings! Abby loves going to "Daddy's workin!"

She discovered the treat drawer. Upon discovery, one would think that Neal liked to have little snacks throughout the day, so he created a little stash. Not so. It's all the "extra" stuff that I pack in his lunch. Neal eats a sack lunch at his desk 99% of the time. He's not a lunch break kind of guy. I usually pack his lunch. It's always the same - a ham and swiss with no sauce, a granny smith apple, and a granola bar or baggie of chips or something like that. Little did I know that the "extra" stuff was getting stored away into his desk drawer. Probably never to be eaten. So weird, and so foreign to me. When I have treats, they are gone. Neal is a treat hoarder.

We went to the dog park last monday for family night. The picture really doesn't do it much justice, but Abby was covered in mud. She ran more than the dog did. And I think she had more fun, too.

The library forced me to steal money from my children. It's the Salem library. I am bitter that you have to feed a parking meter to park there. But, I do it anyway, because Abby likes the story time (which is funny, because the last 2 times, she has been the terror/crusty-look-giver to all the kids in the room). Last Tuesday, I was getting ready to go to the library, when I realized I'd better check to make sure I had change to pay for parking. Nope. No change. But Sarah did have 3 big fat quarters on her dresser. I took them. I should probably pay her back. Then again, she hasn't noticed they're missing yet. . .

Including All the Children

You know, there are some families that have kids who are high achievers and do amazing things and are the best in their particular endeavors. Well, I'm one of those families. I'm raising one of those children.

She has a gift, I think. It's Abigail. I know I post about her quite often, at the expense and total disregard of her other two siblings (let's face it, she's the baby, so she's the cutest right now), but this is a sweet skill! She can eat an entire ice cream cone from the DQ without making a mess. Not even a dribble!

Abby had a mad skill as an infant, too. She rarely spit-up. And when she did, I swear, she never got so much as a drop on herself. Just me or Neal and our shoes and the floor. I'm grateful for that gift, since Kate was/is such a terrible barfer. I've cleaned up a liftime of puke from that kid. Oh, and since I'm bragging about Abby's mad skills, I might as well tell you that she only had one blow-out of the diaper. Amazing. My nephew, Spencer, made up for that one when I babysat him as a baby. Holy blow-outs!

Abby even eats the cone, and leaves the "crust," which is the very bottom, last bite. By the way, she doesn't eat her hagum (hamburger) "crusts" either. Or bread crusts. I think she thinks everything has a crust. Or "tu-WUST!" as Kate used to say.

Oh look! I posted about another child! The second most posted about child. Poor, ignored Sarah. Although the trip to DQ was all because of a band concert in which Sarah played magnificently.

All three kids in one post! I think I'm getting this parenting thing down pretty good now.

But, it's about to shake-up a bit. I may have inadvertently let the cat out of the bag a little too early today while commenting on a facebook stutus. That dang facebook! Here it is. . .

I'm knocked up.

Which is what we wanted. I'm 6 weeks and due October 21st. Looks like that crazy medicine worked!

My sister made a similar announcement to the interwebosphere earlier today. I'm not copying her, or trying to one-up her. But that dang girl is beating me to being the first Hansen kid with 4 kids. Dang you Lindsey!:) It's pretty cool, because my sister in law is due in May and Lindsey in September. The kids will be friends!

Today, I am grateful for gas-pumpers. I have always bemoaned and begrudged the fact that we can't pump our own gas in Oregon. But, today I was glad. I've been super tired and sick in the mornings. So, when I take Sarah to school, I'm usually in my ugly Led Zepplin pj shirt and aqua-marine super deluxe large pj bottoms, and slippers. Oh, and of course, no bra. Which lately, is pretty bad, because my boobs double in size the second I get pregnant. And this morning, I put on my salmon pink zip up sweat shirt, which really adds to the meth look I'm shooting for. So does the cold sore I'm currently rocking.

Anyway, the gas light was on. It was also on yesterday, and I chose to do nothing about it. I decided I'd better get gas, because I'd hate to be stuck on the side of the road looking the way I did. "I don't have to get out of the car," I thought, so it wouldn't be that bad.

Except the guy pumping the gas is a super nice guy in our ward. Ooooo. He's probably telling his wife, "Sister Peton is one ugly lady in the mornings!"

I forgot to mention, I also had on my bent glasses.

Compromising Situation

My child and her friend got a hold of my camera. From the looks of it, they were bored. The girls, not the action figures.

The other day, Kate was telling me all about her recess activities. If they run the track, they get sticks for each lap. Add the sticks up, and you trade them for a prize. Sounds like Chuck-e-Cheese. Except you don't have to run at Chuck-e-Cheese. Just play ski-ball and wack-a-mole. Anyway, Kate was sharing with me all of the benefits of jogging. She said, "Mom, you need to run every day! And I told my PE teacher that I do run every day. Because every morning when I wake up, I run down the hall for breakfast." She was totally serious.

I'm happy to report that the marker on the wall washed off with a damp rag. And Abby helped. But I think she liked to help. I hope it doesn't give her any ideas to re-decorate.

On Friday night, I had my annual "Bookclub junk food fest and sleep-over" at the coast. As usual, it was fun, and was perfect timing for my February "I hate the weather in the northwest" funk. We had a great time and ate lots of food that I'm sure filled us with regret when we got home. I love my bookclub. I've been attending monthly meetings with this group of ladies (you are all ladies, right?) for just over 5 years. We don't discuss much about the books, just everything else under the sun.

My bookclub was something I didn't realized I needed until I began to attend regularly. Kind of like a cell phone. I didn't realize that ladies need other lady friends that aren't related to church responsibilities or family. Although they can over-lap (for example, if my sister's lived close by, they would be invited to bookclub, because they are so cool. Even though they're family). Most of us are LDS. The two that aren't are wonderful to put up with all of the Mormon quirks. Like no drinking at the sleep-overs. Although I think that just might add a whole new element of fun. Or regret. Or both. Pot would certainly be fun, I'm thinking:)

Mark-Her

Abs was bored yesterday. We didn't go anywhere, or do anything fun. I just did laundry all day, and she watched Tarzan, then we played some cars, then she took a nap. By the end of the day, she was getting antsy and bratty.

I can relate.

She decided to take matters into her own hands and create her own fun.

Let's take a moment to celebrate the wonder of Crayola washable markers.

We had finished dinner and dishes, and were all upstairs watching YouTube videos on my phone. "I'm a snake! I'm a slithering, creepy snaaake!" Abby came into my room with a black marker, and scribbles all over her hands. I didn't think too much of it until all the kids were in bed and I went downstairs to close up shop for the night.

We have never had anything like this happen before. Ever. There is so much of it, that I just laughed. This morning when we all came downstairs to begin the morning routine, we tried to catch her reaction to the revelation of her secret acts.

Abigail is quickly becoming expert in the tactic of changing the subject, or just ignoring what is going on. Ah, just like her mother.

When I played back the video, I thought, "Get some back-bone you wussy parents!" Holy Crap! We're just like, "That's a no no!" Pathetic. Seriously, it's our fault she's bratty. Shame shame, I know your name.

I ran out of deodorant the other day. So, I went into the girls bathroom to see what I could find. I found 3 gently used Dove deodorants. Sarah was complaining about not liking the smell. So I found some smelly, teenager stuff at Target. Smells like Teen Spirit. Sarah was happy. But, when Kate saw the sparkly, tweeny deodorant container, she did a "smell ya later!" to the Dove and started using Sarah's. Of course, Sarah freaked out when she found out her smelly little sister was using HER deodorant. So, I had to buy Kate her own stick.

Now I'm relegated to using the left-over deodorants. I'm kind of happy that I didn't have to buy new deodorant, because I have 3 different scents to choose from now!

And THAT is another installment of "Peton Cheaps."

Oops, I Did It Again.

I've been wanting an apple slicer for quite some time now. Word on the street was that the Pampered Chef apple slicer was the best. So, when Neal's mom became a Pampered Chef Consultant, naturally, I ordered an apple slicer. It works really good! Unless the core is kinda stuck. Do not, I repeat, do not try to shove the core through the slicer.

Dammit!

I was reading in the paper this morning about the spotted owl. Remember? Acres and acres and acres and acres of forest have been protected to preserve this particular owl and it's habitat. Well, come to find out, one of the owl's biggest threats is a different type of owl. A very aggressive owl called the barred owl. So, it's being recommended that about 1,200 to 1,500 barred owls be shot. Keep in mind, the barred owl is also a native species, just like the spotted owl.

I say, let nature take it's course.

When I was a teenager, there was lots of talk about the spotted owl. My grandparents talked about it a lot, because some of the policy changes that protected the owl had serious economic consequences to the little Montana town they spent most of the year in with my aunt and uncle. My grandma made signs that said, "Preserve the Spotted Owl!" The picture was a spotted owl, shoved into a mason jar.

Silly grandma!

A couple of nights ago, I went out to a cake shop with some friends. We ate cake. Before I left, I put on a gray hoodie. Then, I threw a denim jacket over it. It was cold! Layers, my friends, layers. I had on my blue jeans that I seriously wear every day, and a trusty pair of Ellen shoes. As I was leaving, Neal told me I looked like a hitchhiker. I gave him a look. So he revised and said I looked like a mill worker. "In a good way! In a GOOD way!"