We have a game that we like to play in our house. It’s called Hot Potato. Sure, most of you have heard of Hot Potato, probably even played it as a child, but in our house, the rules are a little different.
First of all, our potato is a little different than most. This one isn’t even that hot. More like lukewarm. And squishy. It also moves of it’s own accord and makes lots of noise. To keep things from getting complicated, we like to call the potato ‘Sam’.
Secondly, with most games, everyone sits down, plays the game, someone wins the game, the game ends. Our version of this game has NO END!
Let me demonstrate a typical round of Hot Potato in our house.
When the game starts, I am always in possession of the potato. I put the potato down and it scurries away into a brother’s bedroom. Shortly thereafter, a brother drags the potato back to me. I put the potato back down and it scurries towards it’s own bedroom where the door is promptly slammed in it’s face. The potato runs back to me.
I put the potato down and it turns towards the den where there is a Lincoln log village that has been painstakingly built. After the sound of collapsing logs and a heart-wrenching wail, the potato comes running back to me. It is now turning red and getting increasingly hot.
I decide to end this round by putting the potato away for a few hours. It is placed in the potato bin with some milk to marinate with.
I go outside to get the mail and return to have the potato shoved back into my arms.
“Why did you get the potato out of it’s bin??” I ask.
“It was too loud and we’re trying to watch a video.” They reply. “Besides, it’s rotten.”
I test the air and sure enough, Hot Potato has turned into Rotten Potato.
Round two has begun. Great.
Oh, and the last thing that is distinctly different about our version of Hot Potato is this: It’s the potato that actually wins the game.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
What You Will (and Won't) Read in our Holiday, er, Valentine's Letter
Letter: We are so blessed to have 4 healthy, happy, rambunctious little boys
Not in the Letter: I don’t think I’m going to make it. Going from 3 to 4 has totally kicked my butt!
Letter: We have really enjoyed homeschooling Josh and Will this year.
Not in the Letter: How many times I’ve asked other home-schooling mommies if they would take my kids.
Letter: It’s been so exciting to watch our little guy go from a tiny, helpless newborn to a walking, climbing, curious little boy.
Not in the Letter: “AAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGG! How the heck did he get up on the window ledge??!!”
Letter: This was the year of Superheros!! From Star Wars to Robin Hood to Superman, the boys ate it all up!
Not in the Letter: Having to call for ‘Obi Wan and Anakin’ to get out of the pool in front of many curious mommies who actually think I named my kids Obi Wan and Anakin.
The boys putting their street clothes on over their padded Superman and Spiderman outfits and enduring the looks of strangers because my kids look like some genetic steroid experiment gone bad.
Running through the toy department at the store screaming for Josh and terrified he’d been abducted only to find him hiding in an aisle refusing to respond because I was supposed to remember that his name is no longer Josh, but Robin Hood.
Letter: We took our first trip to the emergency room as Will broke his arm after falling (being pushed) off the top bunk of his bed.
Not in the Letter: How long Brett and I rolled our eyes at each other over Will’s head as he continued to writhe and scream about how bad his arm hurt. We were a full half hour into our conversation about how he must need more attention for him to be carrying on like this before I noticed that his arm looked a little crooked….
Letter: I’ve enjoyed playing around in the blogging world this year.
Not in the Letter: “Will everyone please leave me alone for 2 seconds?? Mommy has to try and be funny and you’re all sucking the life out of me!”
Letter: Brett and the boys enjoyed a few camping trips this summer while the baby and I had some peace and quiet.
Not in the Letter: “Make sure you call me at 9am, 12pm, 3pm, 6pm and 9pm every day” 9:05am “Where the heck were you? I almost called the Sheriff’s dept! You’re camping near the WATER?? Make sure the boys wear their life jackets 24/7! Did you bring a gun? Don’t let the boys sleep in the perimeter of the tent in case a bear drags them away in the middle of the night, in fact, I think it would be better if you all slept in the cab of the truck….” 12:07pm “OHMIGOSH! I thought you were all DEAD! What do you MEAN you’re not calling me again??”
Letter: We really enjoyed celebrating the birth of our Lord and ringing in the New Year.
Not in the Letter: Christmas day was spent with Brett stationed in the ‘How the heck do they expect you to get this thing out of the box?’ department and I was stationed in the ‘battery and superglue’ division.
On New Years Eve we decided to light the rest of the fireworks left over from 4th of July and instead ended up creating a new breed of pyromaniacs who stood in the cold chanting “Blow It Up! Blow It Up!”
Letter: We really look forward all the challenges and blessings this next year will offer.
Not in the Letter: Dear Lord, please, we just want to make it through this next year in one piece.
Not in the Letter: I don’t think I’m going to make it. Going from 3 to 4 has totally kicked my butt!
Letter: We have really enjoyed homeschooling Josh and Will this year.
Not in the Letter: How many times I’ve asked other home-schooling mommies if they would take my kids.
Letter: It’s been so exciting to watch our little guy go from a tiny, helpless newborn to a walking, climbing, curious little boy.
Not in the Letter: “AAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGG! How the heck did he get up on the window ledge??!!”
Letter: This was the year of Superheros!! From Star Wars to Robin Hood to Superman, the boys ate it all up!
Not in the Letter: Having to call for ‘Obi Wan and Anakin’ to get out of the pool in front of many curious mommies who actually think I named my kids Obi Wan and Anakin.
The boys putting their street clothes on over their padded Superman and Spiderman outfits and enduring the looks of strangers because my kids look like some genetic steroid experiment gone bad.
Running through the toy department at the store screaming for Josh and terrified he’d been abducted only to find him hiding in an aisle refusing to respond because I was supposed to remember that his name is no longer Josh, but Robin Hood.
Letter: We took our first trip to the emergency room as Will broke his arm after falling (being pushed) off the top bunk of his bed.
Not in the Letter: How long Brett and I rolled our eyes at each other over Will’s head as he continued to writhe and scream about how bad his arm hurt. We were a full half hour into our conversation about how he must need more attention for him to be carrying on like this before I noticed that his arm looked a little crooked….
Letter: I’ve enjoyed playing around in the blogging world this year.
Not in the Letter: “Will everyone please leave me alone for 2 seconds?? Mommy has to try and be funny and you’re all sucking the life out of me!”
Letter: Brett and the boys enjoyed a few camping trips this summer while the baby and I had some peace and quiet.
Not in the Letter: “Make sure you call me at 9am, 12pm, 3pm, 6pm and 9pm every day” 9:05am “Where the heck were you? I almost called the Sheriff’s dept! You’re camping near the WATER?? Make sure the boys wear their life jackets 24/7! Did you bring a gun? Don’t let the boys sleep in the perimeter of the tent in case a bear drags them away in the middle of the night, in fact, I think it would be better if you all slept in the cab of the truck….” 12:07pm “OHMIGOSH! I thought you were all DEAD! What do you MEAN you’re not calling me again??”
Letter: We really enjoyed celebrating the birth of our Lord and ringing in the New Year.
Not in the Letter: Christmas day was spent with Brett stationed in the ‘How the heck do they expect you to get this thing out of the box?’ department and I was stationed in the ‘battery and superglue’ division.
On New Years Eve we decided to light the rest of the fireworks left over from 4th of July and instead ended up creating a new breed of pyromaniacs who stood in the cold chanting “Blow It Up! Blow It Up!”
Letter: We really look forward all the challenges and blessings this next year will offer.
Not in the Letter: Dear Lord, please, we just want to make it through this next year in one piece.
Things I Can't Believe I've Said - Or Had To Say
“Get off his head”
“Don’t jump on the baby!”
“Crap, the baby’s eating trash again”
“Get down off the wall” (Yes, my boys can physically climb a wall!)
“Get that chicken out of here!”
“Don’t put your cereal in the VCR”
“Does anyone know where the baby is??”
“The baby is hanging on the DVD drive again”
“How much is a new DVD drive?”
“I know it’s yours but just let him have it so he’ll stop screaming!”
“If you kick his seat one more time I’ll cut your legs off at the knees!”
(Don’t worry, this is usually followed by their peals of laughter – and more kicking of the back of the seat)
“I know they’re all crying, just take the picture anyway so we can get out of here.”
“I’m pregnant AGAIN?!?” (Followed by an intense scowl at my very bewildered husband)
“Just leave it on the floor, the baby will eat it.”
“Is it possible to completely eliminate the hours between 4 and 9pm?”
“I wish I drank alcohol”
“No, but I think their mom’s around here somewhere” (In response to an incredulous looking woman at Target asking if the boys running around the toy department were mine)
“Don’t jump on the baby!”
“Crap, the baby’s eating trash again”
“Get down off the wall” (Yes, my boys can physically climb a wall!)
“Get that chicken out of here!”
“Don’t put your cereal in the VCR”
“Does anyone know where the baby is??”
“The baby is hanging on the DVD drive again”
“How much is a new DVD drive?”
“I know it’s yours but just let him have it so he’ll stop screaming!”
“If you kick his seat one more time I’ll cut your legs off at the knees!”
(Don’t worry, this is usually followed by their peals of laughter – and more kicking of the back of the seat)
“I know they’re all crying, just take the picture anyway so we can get out of here.”
“I’m pregnant AGAIN?!?” (Followed by an intense scowl at my very bewildered husband)
“Just leave it on the floor, the baby will eat it.”
“Is it possible to completely eliminate the hours between 4 and 9pm?”
“I wish I drank alcohol”
“No, but I think their mom’s around here somewhere” (In response to an incredulous looking woman at Target asking if the boys running around the toy department were mine)
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