My Husband is "KILLING" me!

Its common knowledge that I am a Killers fan. Love the music, love they are from Vegas, love that they still live in Vegas, love that they employ people like KB Plumbing to install sinks in recording studios, love that they have father-in-laws who get us tickets to concerts. Love love love them. So, my fabulous friend, Kasey, FB's me this message:

"Kasey Sundberg April 26 at 5:42pm http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/46264523.html

What's it mean Sommer? You're the official Killers expert around here. Help.

ohnotheydidnt: WTF ARE THE KILLERS DOING
community.livejournal.com
WTF ARE THE KILLERS DOINGThe Killers, having been on hiatus, updated their Twitter, finally, with this:And then posted this: "Check back here and at www.thekillersmusic.comfor real news, true stories, ... "


Something about a countdown, a hiatus, and mass hysteria that The Killers are breaking up. Why am I sharing all of this with you? Well, to showcase the latest conversation with my charming husband, Byron, of course!:



Me: Byron, look at this countdown. We have to wait 3 years for something?

Byron: No that's three days and 16 hours.

Me: Oh! I need to know what this is about. Call Les Yokum (Ronnie's father in law) and ask. (cute smile, and tilting of head)

Byron: I think you can wait three days to find out.

Me: Noooo! We have connections! You need to call.

Byron: I'm not calling Les.

Me: I know his number's on your phone. I could call him myself.

Byron: Actually, I honestly should be seeing Les tomorrow. (evil smirk)

Me: You better ask him! If you see him tomorrow and don't ask what that countdown is, I'll explode!

Byron: He he he (evil laugh)

And that's when I realize that I am totally powerless in this relationship. :P

Queen Esther

For whatever reason, somebody got the idea that I was dramatic enough to play Queen Esther at our church's Primary activity. I cannot for the life of me figure out why anyone would think I am dramtic. Really, me? They basically just asked me to tell the story, but that's boring. I decided to decorate my room, and have my mom whip me up a great Queen Esther costume. I made up a book to tell the story. What? You don't know the story of Queen Esther? Guess what, I kind of forgot myself. Read about her here and here, or watch the story here. It was lots of fun, and the other bible characters were way jealous!

Welcome to my garden...

I have always been in love with the thought of having a garden. Spending time outside, digging, getting dirty, watching things grow, eating from the hard earned harvest. I never had a garden, though, until now. Thanks to my wonderful husband, he helped us plant strawberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, mint, basil, beans, and a ton of new plants to enhance our landscaping. It looks beautiful, and Wyatt and I love taking care of all of it.












We also loved taking care of our interesting butterflies again this spring. We've watched them grow from the tiniest caterpillars I've ever seen, to a chrysalis, to butterflies, so tame, they sit on your hand. Last year, I shared with you my lovely story of how I noticed nature was a little too close for comfort as there was a butterfly orgy going on in my kitchen. Well, they started doing it (literally) again, and as grossed out as I was, I allowed them to stay a bit longer. Why? I had 2 caterpillars left! In the 10 years that I have done this project, I've never had caterpillars at the same time as butterflies. They all changed around the same time together. But these little guys needed a little bit more love. They were "developmentally delayed" in teacher terms, and would have rode the little bus to school!

The more mature butterflies were getting restless. Once the 2 little guys turned into chrysalises, I decided to let the other ones go. This is always fun. Wyatt gets to hold them, we chase after them, wondering where they'll land and if they'll stay. All of them flew off, except for one. Poor guy, he came out of his chrysalis a little crooked, and his wings weren't straight enough to fly away. "This will be fun," I thought. "He'll be our resident butterfly." Wyatt spent 15, 20 minutes, holding him, moving him from flower to flower. It was a great learning opportunity for him. Wyatt placed his pet butterfly in our lemon tree, and went inside for a moment. Later, I came out, when Wyatt, very proudly, pointed out where his happy little butterfly was living.

But then, I looked closer. The butterfly wasn't moving. It was down in the dirt. "Wyatt? What happened? The butterfly's not moving." "Yeah, well, a bird came down to see the butterfly, and I had to yell at it," Wyatt explained. Then I examined our friend a little closer. The bird did indeed come to see the butterfly...and ate it's head right off!!!!!!! Just when I accept the whole mating thing, another form of nature comes slapping me in the face! Wyatt was actually OK with it, very much like his father with that "Its Nature!" kind of an attitude. I'm just glad there won't be more nature going on until next Spring!

Play Ball!

Think he'll go pro and buy me a gigantic house?

A More Positive Easter Egg Hunt

The Easter Bunny decided, that after such a tramatic experience at the Pawaron Easter Egg hunt the day before, Wyatt deserved at more positive experience on Easter morning. He hid plenty of eggs, (no pop!) each with a surprise inside. Some even had clues, that led Wyatt on a treaure hunt to find special Easter goodies. It was a very good morning!

P.S. Just as I requested no comments about my fabulous ski jump suit in a previous post, (which seemed to have been ignored...Kasey!) there will be no comments about me walking around in my pjs and Napoleon Dynamite snow boots. I mean it this time! Thank you!

Easter Madness and Mayhem!

"Parawon has got to be having a town Easter Egg Hunt!" I said. "Its really important Wyatt go to an Easter Egg hunt with other kids!" I said. "Easter Egg hunts as an only child were so boring and sad for me. We have to create beautiful memories for Wyatt! Give him something better!" I said.

And with that motherly determination, we headed for the baseball fields where I imagined beautifully colored Easter Eggs hiding among the green grass and tulips. But alas, what did we find? A huge swarm of children, standing in a parking lot, panting behind a streamer with a sign marking each age group. I felt as though I had entered my horse, I mean, my child into the Kentucky Derby. In front of us, a chaotic explosion of plastic Easter eggs, pencils, pop cans (all caffeinated), and candy, all just waiting. We decided to help Wyatt with a little strategy. "Don't worry about the pop or the pencils, Wyatt. Go for the eggs. There's numbers in some of them and you might win a huge Easter basket."

Finally, an announcement over the P.A. system. "YOU MAY BEGIN THE EASTER EGG HUNT!" And they're off! Like a flock of seagulls devouring locusts, the children swarmed the goodies, leaving a clean, pristine parking lot in their wake. I stood there, watching Wyatt, as he walked past each and every Easter Egg and picked up pencils and as many pop cans as his Tonka Truck Easter basket could carry. Really, Wyatt, really? But then the tragedy occurred. The Tonka Truck could not hold onto the 5 pop cans any longer, and the basket tipped over, dropping all the hard earned contents back onto the asphalt! I quickened my step as I could see panic frozen in my son's face! All of his Easter goodies were being swiped by the other nasty, greedy children. You know, the ones I wanted him so badly to interact with at the Easter Egg hunt? Thankfully, a sweet mother nearby saw the crocodile tears on Wyatt's cheeks and stepped in, swooping up the 5 pop cans that Wyatt had so treasured, and putting them in his basket. I finally got to him and just let him cry out all the anxiety he was enduring at the moment.

To save the event from being one of the most traumatic events in my 4 year old's life, we saved the day by getting some candy from the good ol' Easter Bunny himself and a visit with the community Firemen. Then we quickly got out of there and blew off some steam hitting the slopes! Wyatt decided speeding down a snow covered mountain is much more relaxing than some crazy egg hunt!

Artsy, Fartsy

Who knew I could be so creative with my Blackberry at Barber J's in Parawon? Side note: We love Barber J's...correction: Wyatt loves Barber J's. The old barber chair, the big picture window facing main street, the collection of old Happy Meal toys, and Jason the barber, who does Wyatt's spikes just how he likes them!

Hoppin' Down the Brianhead Trail?

Ahh...Easter, Springtime...warm breezes, new blossoms, birds singing in the bright green trees...yeah, we had none of that. Instead we had tons of fresh powder, 2 1/2 days of skiing, and a 4 year old that was too fast to keep up with.



P.S. I do not want to read one comment about my skiing jumpsuit circa 1992 or the fact that it fit my little midget of a mother, but that it hits me mid-shin and mid-forearm. 20 more pounds to lose and I get a new one! Preferably one that doesn't look like I have 5 shoulder pads in it.

This is how I'm feeling about my 4 year old right now...

Happy Easter!

Wyatt's Sunbeam teachers from church taught him this...



I was so amazed that he could explain the story of Christ and the Ressurection. Then I wondered..."What have Byron and I been teaching Wyatt?" We taught him how to sing this song...



Hmmm...I guess we'll work on the topics of our lessons with Wyatt a little bit better.