The Little People In My Life

I’m sure you’re getting tired of me posting about my horse drama, so today I’m going to talk about some of my kids instead.

It occurs to me: I never actually wrote a post about the last horse drama, you know, before Saturday’s.  I meant to post about it under the title I Screamed Like a Girl, but I never did.  I only mentioned it on Facebook (which has made some annoying changes recently, no?) and Blue Barb alluded to it on Twitter.  So, anyway, just to bring you up to speed, you know, before I talk about my kids instead, here is the Facebook nutshell of that incident (reason #589,671 to just say no when your kid/s ask for a horse):

Today the little horse got spooked while I was riding him and he took off at a full, uncontrollable gallop straight for the deep side of our pond. My life flashed before my eyes, and I’m left thinking, “There’s a movie nobody would pay to see.”

Oct. 21, 2009

All right, on to the little people in my life.   Today was the primary program in our branch and, as the primary president, I was pretty invested in the whole thing.  For my non-LDS readers, this means the primary children (ages 3-11) did a program for the whole church service.  I must say, the kids did an awesome job.  They just really, really pulled it off.  It was great (though I admit part of me really wanted to coach a few of them on Punctuation and How to Use It When Reading Aloud).  But, you know, leave it to my Midge to just be the highlight of the whole program (well, except for the lone child who actually memorized his part and shocked and amazed everyone with his flawless delivery – he was probably the real highlight, whereas Midge was, of course, the comic relief).

She bee-bopped up to the microphone, her white-blond hair bouncing as she went, and read her first part:

“Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of dog . . . umm . . . I mean God.”

I LOST it.  This was a problem since I was sitting right up front so the children could see me and follow my lead when it was time to sing.  My secretary, who was sitting next to me to hold up little signs to prompt the kids to sing louder and stuff like that also lost it.  And we all know what happens when two people sitting next to each other lose it – you can’t get it back.  Except?  Somehow we did.

Moving on . . .

You may or may not remember past posts about how my children react, or not, when they catch me and the husband kissing.  The girls seem oblivious, as does the Quinn, but the Tank Boy?  The last time he walked in on us sucking face he was hurt and confused and thought it all meant I love his dad more than I love him. 

But then there was Friday.  McH came home from work, the kids were all in the dinning room playing a game, so we were, you know, saying hello in the family room.  And then we heard it:

“Heh heh.  Heh heh heh.  Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee!”

I looked over my husband’s shoulder to see Tank Boy watching us from the kitchen with this wacky big grin that all but obliterated his eyes from his face.  Then he ran down the stairs to the basement, giggling as he went. 

Finally.  A child with a normal reaction:  laugh and flee, laugh and flee.

“This is progress,” I whispered into my husband’s ear, “This is good progress.”  And indeed, it is.

Speaking of progress, Quinn seems to be adding new words to his vocabulary every day.  Again, finally!  Now if we can just make some headway in the enunciation arena . . .  But my favorite development?  Is the way he says “yes.”

Actually, he doesn’t say “yes” anymore.  We were so elated when he finally started saying yes that it would be sad he no longer says it, except?  He has replaced it by throwing his arms in the air touch-down style and enthusing, “Yay!!!” while jumping in the air.  It’s as if he’s saying, “You’ve finally figured out what I’ve been saying for the last 10 mintues!”  except he says it even if you immediately figure out what it is he wants.

So see?  There is life outside of dealing with freaked out horses.

And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.

3 thoughts on “The Little People In My Life

  1. The horse getting spooked while you were riding? Would convince me never to ride again. Because I’m resiliant like that. You are clearly much braver than I.

    Your kids sound very entertaining and also sweet. I love Quinn’s yay – way to make you feel like a champ all day long!

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  2. The Primary program is one of my favorites of the year. The kids are always so darned cute! Glad you and your Secretary were able to “get it back.” I’m not sure I would have been able to. Once I lose it, it seems to stay away. 🙂

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  3. Yikes, that sounds terrifying. I think I need to find you on Facebook (yes, changes are annoying!); I’m falling way behind in my blog reading but miss you.

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