So what's in a dream?

So Ashton had a very slight "sniffle" last night when she climbed into our bed at 3:37 AM. Oh, and apparently her cheek hurt. Oh and her pajamas were made of the same materials as blankets, so even though she was sleeping in between Cindy and me, she didn't need any covers -- on a night that was like 10 degrees outside -- and it's hard to somehow have both Cindy and myself bundled while the YAHOO in the middle is not.

Long story short, by 5:18 AM my patience was at an end. I had already left the bedroom with her, drugged her with Benedryl, and watched "sweetie" cartoons with her. And she was still not asleep & she was still a miserable soul. So I pawned her off on Cindy.

And in the few moments of sleep that I got after pawning her off (I probably only got about 40 or so) I had a dream. And in this dream, Ashton was eaten by a bear.

I think Scrooge was on to something.

Worse than the over-commercialization of Xmas, is the over activity of Xmas. Every work group has their own Xmas party. The management team has their own Xmas party. The ward has a Xmas party, the young men / young women, the primary, Ashton's gymnastics group, 3 kids at 3 different schools means 3 different Xmas things. And not being a big fan of people, this is a problem.

Now Scrooge got his visits by the 3 ghosts and when it was all said and done he had Christmas Day to spread joy. And that's fine and dandy. Anyone can do a day. But had the 3 ghosts visited on December 3rd and Scrooge had to attend as many functions as me, my guess is that he would have told Marley to go take a flying leap!

Today I learned ...

that Daniel has grown 3 inches since the start of school 3 months ago. For the record he is now 5'7".

that Ashton is 5 years old and no longer needs Daddy to tuck her into bed. Except that she still does as she told Daddy 20 minutes later.

that you can't answer the call of nature when dinner is served, because if you do the 2 cans of refried beans and entire block of grated cheese will be gone by the time you get back 2 minutes later.

and lastly, that there are times when we'd prefer you not share ... which is the case with Craig's mystery rash or whatever is all over his neck. When Ashton thought that Craig had touched her and his hands might have been contaminated and she' better wash her hands and face ... SHE FREAKED and was HYSTERICAL.

Why we don't order pizza for delivery

Cuz the conversation goes like this ....

"Daniel, what do you want on your extra large pizza? Umm, one meat lovers."

"Craig, what do you want on your extra large pizza? Umm, one with double pepperoni and breakfast bacon."

"Nathan, what do you want on your large pizza? Umm, one with double pepperoni."

"Mom, what do you, Ashton, and I want on our small pizza?"


No one should have 3 boys so close in age all eating so much. Our food budget has spiked in the last few months and is only rising. "I'm still hungry!" is now the most commonly spoken phrase in our household, overtaking "GO TO BED!!" (but not by much). We have to make 10 hamburgers for a single meal. A 9x13 pan of chicken enchilada is no longer two meals, but better have a large can of re fried beans and two large bags of tortilla chips as well as a desert to back it up!!!!!

Maybe Pres. Obama will save us ... there is always hope.

Tommy Lasorda, where are you?

As a naive kid, I put a lot of heart and soul in to my routing interest ... and needless to say I'm very much still a kid. And I remember game after game Tommy Lasorda talking about how fortunate the Dodgers where to have the Big Blue Guy in the Sky shining down on them. They won a lot of games in which the balls landed barely fair for the Dodgers and barely foul for the bad guys. Mike Socissa couldn't hit a fly ball past second base but in a Game 6 against the Mets he hit one over the centerfield wall. How!? Why!? The Dodger Eye in the Sky of course. Kirk Gibson could barely walk or swing or stand and yet that ball traveled 400 feet. How!? The Dodger Eye in the Sky of course.

Well he must not be a Dodger fan anymore. O'Malley sold him when he sold the rest of the Dodgers to Fox Corp. And I'm not sure who that guy roots for these days, but today he was wearing Ute Red and I want to puke!!

Every single bounce went their way, and not just a few of them. I can think of 8 that could have bounced anywhere and every single time it went the Utes direction. Yes, we should have still won and made some big mistakes, but where is the justice!? The first Ute TD hit the db in the arm and it could have been caught by him or bounced right to Rich for the int but instead bounced right into the arms of the Ute. A early fumble hit Rich right in the hand and went out of bounds. The punt took an abrupt right hand turn and hit the BYU guy's foot. A BYU fumble went right to the Ute defender. A call that should have been overturned wasn't because the Ref blocked the only camera the TV had on the play. I could go on but I think I need to go throw up!!!

Meet "Dan"

Cindy had parent-teacher conferences with Daniel today, and she learned something that I think the title of this blog probably already gives way. He calls himself Dan and has since the beginning of school. Everyone in his school only knows him as Dan. He is Dan.

Now I don't think this is as quite as radical as the 'Saul-on-the-Road-to-Damascus' level event that occurred the day Jimmy became James but still ...

He has never once referred to himself at home or church as Dan. So where did Dan come from?

A now it all makes sense ...

Ashton likes to come into Mommy & Daddy's bed in the middle of the night ... probably happens 4 times a week, maybe 5. But she is really a wiggle worm and does a lot of touching. Kind of thought "that's just the way she is" ... but at times she is dead to the world and doesn't move a muscle. So why does she squirm and slap us around so much?

Mystery solved. Stayed up a little later than normal last night to watch my first Laker game of the year (they had won their first 8 but lost the first time I watched ... go figure). So by the time I was climbing into bed, sweetheart Cindy was already sawing logs ... and they must have been big Redwoods dropping judging from the amps on that saw she was using on those logs. I couldn't sleep, much less hear myself think. But every time I rolled over or jostled the bed, there would be a momentary pause in the snoring. And every time I touched her, again, another peaceful moment of silent bliss. The problem is the more I bounce the bed or touch the queen, the more I put myself in the warpath of the sleeping princess. The answer? Another sweatheart who is more than willing to jostle the bed or smack the queen. So I went to her room, scooped her up, and brought her to bed to do her dirty work and take the heat should any come. Dirty trick, I know ... but really effective.

But a funny thing happened last night. As soon as Ashton was in bed, Cindy's snoring noticeably decreased a few dozen decibels. Do you think her 'mommy' instinct took over and her level of deep sleep changed knowing a sweetie was in bed with her? Just wondering.

For the record, I am not the quietest sleeper on the planet and have taken my fair share of 'sweetie' slaps in the middle of the night. But at least now I'll understand the method to her madness. But what do we do when she's 18? Get a dog?