Boys Night at Dollar Cuts

So Chubbs (Jayson) and I headed to Dollar Cuts.

He was really excited to go, but got nervous as they put the protective cape (complete with multicolored fishies) around his neck.

They cut my hair simultaneously in the chair next to his.

Hairstylist One: "You look so cute Jayson, just like your daddy" (Seriously, I know you are just angling for a big tip. But no worries...you just earned it).

Jayson: "Yes, I cute" (he gets his confidence from his mother)

Hairstylist Two: "You are such a big boy Jayson"

Jayson: "Yes, I a big boy".

Unfortunately they finished my cut (since I have less hair) before Jaysons. When he saw that I was finished he declared the same for himself, "I done" and proceeded to start yanking off the protective cape.

Fortunately, Hairstylist One was able to coax Jayson to remain in the chair through the promise of using styling gel in his hair "just like your daddy has". It worked.

As we exited dollar cuts, the hairstylists all said goodbye to Jayson. He blew them all kisses (seems to be his thing, and it seems to work).

Then my little Momma's Boy prattled all the way home about how excited he was to show his "Mommy" and "Tay Tay" and "Ry Pie". When we got home, they weren't there, so we took pictures for them instead.

The Circus Heads to the Quilted Bear

Tayler's Circus Drawing during church

Friday night my keen husband senses (the look on Jess' face) told me Jess needed a break from the Circus (the affectionate name we use to denote all of our kids collectively). So after Rylee's birthday party at Boondocks, we went shopping. Sort of.

Jayson and I arrived late. He promptly took off his shoes and invited himself to bowl with the actual party guests.

We went to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get Tayler a super, glitter, bouncy ball. She has wanted one for the past month. Jayson and Rylee decided, after five seconds, that they needed one.

So I had to buy three.

Then we went to the Quilted Bear to look for shelves for Jayson and the new baby's room. We are "nesting". Well, Jess is nesting.

Unlike a father Robin, I don't really nest. I just help out where I'm told.
I've been told that we need to decorate the boys' room. So I went looking for shelves.
With the circus.

I got distracted from shelf-shopping by some Willow Tree carvings. Mothers and fathers in various poses with each other and with their children. I asked the kids which ones reminded them most of their mother. Their choices were interesting. So I chose the one that most reminds me of Jess.

It's too difficult to adequately summarize the entire circus-Quilted Bear experience. So I've chosen my favorites.

Tayler: "I don't like that one (the first one Willow Tree carving I chose) because I have never seen mommy sitting on a rock."

Since many of the boutiques had pictures of LDS temples, Rylee sang a primary song. In traditional Rylee fashion.
At the top of her lungs.
Throughout the entire store. "I love to see the temple. I'm going there someday..."

Tayler: Dad, why don't you get this for Mom? It will make her cry. (Picture of Jesus with nail marks in his hands and wrists).

Rylee: "I have to go to the bathroom."

Me: "Has anyone seen Rylee? Rylee!"

Rylee: (Heard from three aisles away), "I'll prepare myself while I am young...This is my sacred duty." (Must've been interesting, particularly for the non-LDS shoppers).

Jayson:"Daddy, poopie" (Means either number one or two is on its way--you don't know which until you're at the point of delivery).

Me: "Don't touch that. Or that. Or that. Rylee, do you want to go sit in the car?"
"Jayson, please stop touching things or you'll go sit in the car, by yourself."
Tayler: "By himself? Yeah, right."
Me: "Tayler, please stop ruining my idle threats." Tayler: "What does 'idle' mean?"

My favorite part was standing in line waiting for our turn to checkout.Tayler saw a little bear holding a red heart that says "kiss me".

Tayler: "Daddy, why don't you get this for mommy?"

Rylee: "You could come home and say, I love you sweetheart!" (I felt like I was in high school being teased by my little sister).

Tayler: "Then you could kiss her on the lips, OOOHHH!

Rylee: "Whoo-hooohhh". At this point she moved close to Tayler and put her arms around her neck.

Thankfully, rather than kiss, they both leaned their heads back and laughed and giggled and laughed.
This made Jayson laugh hysterically from his perch in the shopping cart.
They repeated this same annoying enactment about four more times, each time having me say something else to Jess that resulted in her kissing me. Each time they roared with laughter.
So did everyone else standing in line.
As did the cashier.
I just couldn't wait to get the circus home and send them to their rooms.

Rylee drew this at church and gave it to Jess. Apparently it's a picture of Jess.

Pregnant Jess. I think it's pregnant, angry Jess (look at the size of those eyes) who just woke up and stumbled out of bed, apparently hungover (look at the bed-head and the crazy look on her face). Rylee is very proud of it. Jess isn't.

Happy Birthday Rylee-Pot-Pie!!!

I can't believe it's been five years since I was heading back to the hospital with two-year-old Tayler who was anxiously proclaiming, "I'm coming Baby Rylee, I'm coming Baby Rylee". They've been best buds ever since.

She picked up Jayson from the nursery today after church. When I found the two of them holding hands in the foyer, I told her that it's probably better if she lets Jess or I pick him up. She responded, "Well, I'm five today Dad". Good point Ry.

She continues to add the spice to our lives. She knows exactly what buttons to push to get a rise out of any of us. She loves to cuddle and she loves to be a big sister. She seems anxious for another little brother to mother and bully. She's still determined to grow up and marry Jayson; because, as she tells us so often, "he's just so cute."

She keeps telling Jess each day that the baby in her belly looks bigger--a comment sure to make Jess' day.

One day a few weeks ago when I got home from work, she informed me that she saw Santa at the Chick-fil-a (Layton Hills Mall). She got a very serious look on her face and told me in her matter-of-fact tone, "There wasn't a princess dress in his sack." In her little mind, this meant she wasn't going to get her number one gift for Christmas. I wondered at the time how she got a peak into his sack, but then I'd probably rather not know.

Christmas morning as she watched Jayson play with his new train, she informed us that next year she wanted a pink train for Christmas. So we got her one for her birthday (white, orange and blue because we couldn't find a pink one). When she opened it, she turned to me and with a slight look of disappointment informed me, "but it's not a girl train dad". "That's cause most girls don't play with trains son."

The scariest thing about Rylee is she understands waaaay more than she ever lets on and she has a steel trap for a brain. She remembers the littlest details about everything! One things for sure, our lives have never been the same since she joined our family.

I love you my little (big) Rylee-Pot-Pie, Happy Birthday!

Majority Rules

When it comes to planning family activities, we tend to run a democracy at the Dunroe house. We also vote on politically sensitive issues. For example: Sitting at the dinner table the Sunday before Christmas, "Who thinks Rylee has made it off of Santa's naughty list?" The majority at the table (meaning the kids, minus Jess and I) raise their hands high and proclaim, "I do", "I do", "I do". At that time, Jessica and I remained undecided and didn't declare a vote.

Or, "Who thinks Jayson better finish his dinner or he won't play a game with us?" Unanimous response, even from Jayson (who votes in the affirmative no matter what). "I do!", five hands raised high.

On Christmas night, with nothing planned, we decided to vote on activities. "Who wants to go to a movie". Three votes for (guess which three), with the corresponding "I do's".

The movie didn't start until 9:30, so we had a dinner choice to make. Denny's or IHOP?
IHOP won out because Jess' vote counts for about 15 when she renders a "where should we go for dinner" opinion.

Near the end of dinner, there was a vote that I didn't call for.
Jayson was happily leaning back in his high chair, head hanging down behind the chair, prattling cheerfully to himself. Then he suddenly proclaims "Who thinks daddy's stupid?" To which he quickly answers, with his hand raised high, "I do!"

Unfortunately for me, three other hands shot up and Rylee burst out with the giggles.

Blogging

I don't have too much to say today. Might be 'cause I ran across this as I was preparing for a job interview the other day. I found it hilarious. And true (at least for me).

The website www.despair.com has a ton of these and they crack me up.

Christmas Spirit

So I haven't really felt much of the "Christmas Spirit" this year. Probably for a variety of reasons--all of them my fault. I have felt it during a couple of the Christmas activities we've done with the kids, and briefly during a service project we did through work. I definitely felt it today while I was singing in the choir at church. The words of one of the songs meant a little more to me than in the past.

As my mind wandered during the Christmas song, I thought of the "glad tidings of great joy" the angels announced to the lowly sheperds anciently. Thinking of the coming of the promised Messiah as a babe in Bethlehem in hindsight, provides a very different perspective than the viewpoint of those who lived at the time of the Savior, or those who lived before His coming.

From the time of Adam and Eve, the prophets of the Old Testament had been taught from heaven about the future coming of a King who would one day deliver them from the bondage of physical and spiritual death. They in turn taught the people of their day that if they lived their lives in faith, relying on these promises, that one day, likely after their death, the promised Messiah would pay the price for their sins. They would be reliant on this Savior to allow them to rise again from the grave, and permit them to enter again into the presence of their Heavenly Father and live forever with their loved ones.

For those living in Judeah who believed in the words of these prophets, the words of the angels surely bought rejoicing and tears because everything they had believed was unfolding as they had been taught.

The angels themselves no doubt rejoiced in the message they had the privilege to deliver. Those angelic messengers were likely those who had already died, but had faithfully adhered to the teachings of their prophets--Adam, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah. They died firm in the faith that this Savior would indeed make good on his promise to deliver them back to the presence of their Father and they were now but 33 years from this promised deliverance.

Perhaps some living in our day were also part of this Heavenly host--equally reliant on the merits, mercies, and love of the promised Savior and rejoicing in the ability to deliver the "glad tidings of great joy" to the inhabitants of the earth.

The Polar Express

I was relieved to hear that Miss Allington's second grade class barely qualified, through last minute (very) obedient behavior, for a well-earned reprive from the "three Rs" (pulled straight from the "Little House on the Prairie" archives indellibly engraved somewhere on the folds of my cerebrum). Thankfully they were able to enjoy a cinematic journey to the North Pole via the Polar Express. The hard work, fret, diligence, worry, and reslutant extra effort during the month of December was paid off with a much anticipated Friday-before-Christmas miracle.

This manipulative tactic has been masterfully employed by both Tayler's elementary school teachers (at different schools). In Mrs. Thorton's first grade class, each child could earn, subsequently lose, and hopefully re-gain (seemingly with no limit on the ability to re-earn) their "golden ticket". Said ticket promised to ensure a fun-filled Friday-afternoon-before-Christmas on the Polar Express. We received a nightly report about whether or not Blaze (the apparent class miscreant) ended the day in possession of his golden ticket. Much to the surprise (and relief) of everyone in room seven (I confess I really don't know the room number), Blaze's last minute penitence resulted in his earning back his golden ticket--mere moments before showtime last year. Talk about cutting it close.

Tayler seemed to be back and forth through the month of December as to whether she was happy or sad that Blaze might not be able to join his peers. But in the end, she appeared relieved. Blaze wasn't the only child influenced by the promise of reward, and threat of exclusion. The annoyingly obedient Tayler was on her extra-best behavior in the weeks leading up to the big event.

Near as I can tell, Miss Allington's class started the month with the words POLAR EXPRESS PARTY on the chalkboard. As forgetful children would mouth off, or become extra unruly, a letter could be wiped away from the board. This time though, there was no promise that a letter could ever be re-written, once removed. This was especially terrifying to Tayler. One evening this past week however, over Jess' chicken cordon bleu (her best ever), Tayler informed us that a previously removed letter had been unexpectedly resurrected due to extraordinary obedience that afternoon. Miss Allington noted that such an even had never taken place in her entire teaching carreer (which couldn't possibly encapsule more than four prior Christmas seasons).

I felt the parental obligation to reassure Tayler that the Christmas Spirit was almost sure to result in the final "Y" remaining on the board just moments before the promised hour. "Don't worry about it Tayler, I know your class will magically be eligible for the trip on the Polar Express--regardless of your behavior". Not sure why I felt the need to inform her of the end result. Perhaps I'm a little envious that such a ploy seems to so consistently result in behavior modification at school, while the repeated, albeit inconsistent, threats of "a lump of coal" in your stocking hung by the chimney with care, seem only good for brief periods of improved obedience at home (a place wherein no other success can compensate for failure).

Jess, apparently equally envious or irritated (still difficult, after over 8 years of marriage, to unequivocally know for sure), added the following wise counsel, "Tayler, there is no way your teacher has a lesson plan prepared for Friday. You're guaranteed a Friday afternoon trip on the Polar Express." Tayler, clearly confused at either our insistence on the certainty of the outcome, or simply not knowing what the "H" Jess meant by an unprepared "lesson plan"--responded by resuming her meal.

Somewhere, I suspect, Blaze's family is also breathing a sigh of releif that their son earned his "golden ticket" just in the [Saint] Nick of time.