Babysitting

Christian is usually our go-to babysitter but lately Haley has been filling in occasionally if Christian's away. Last night, she was in charge while we went out for dinner. This morning, the younger girls had stories to tell about the fun they'd had ... they played games, Haley told them a funny bedtime story and she created 'Haley's Cafe' for dinner. Here was their menu:

We had some leftover carne asada in the fridge, but Haley didn't know how to spell that so she called it Mexican Steak instead. Cracks me up.  Good thing they can play tic-tac-toe while they are ordering their food, too.

Love the dessert menu (I'm not going to correct her spelling on something this creative, even though a desert menu would be an interesting thing, I'm sure)... I'm trying to figure out how she'd serve chocolate pretzels, since we don't actually have any in the house. When I asked her about it, Haley explained that she melts chocolate chips in the microwave and dips the pretzels in it.  I'm impressed by her level of commitment to the Haley Cafe.  And as a babysitter.  The girls were actually in bed asleep when we got home!  I may not let her go babysit other people's kids since I'm excited to have such a good sitter at home for us.

What do you do when your son's feeling down?

You take him to the church parking lot and let him have his first experience driving....

Cracks me up how serious he was at first. He kept saying, "K, this is freaking me out." But then he started to enjoy himself.

He was cautious enough not to freak me out, which was good. I remember my neighbor, Karen, letting me drive her Audi in our church parking lot at about Christian's age and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Christian agreed -- his words were, "That was really scary but awesome."

Only 3 more years until he drives for real. Talk about scary.

I wanna ....

* visit my fam in SoCal (really, really wanna)
* have a DVD player installed in my car
* get a big bear hug from my dad
* watch my 2 little ballerinas in their recital soon
* cuddle up with my hubby and watch a good movie
* have a decent GNO (no sleeper movie next time)
* read the upcoming sequels of several book series I've read (not coming fast enough)
* think of something fun & inexpensive for spring break
* ski, ski, ski
* come up with something unique for the Primary program
* take a cruise with my honey & kids
* have someone else finish all of the painting jobs in my house
* find the perfect house in the perfect location for the perfect price :)

Valentine's Etiquette

For Valentine's Day, the 6th grade usually has a dance. But our school has had an etiquette lunch for the past couple of years, which I think is an even better idea. I'm not sure which one the kids would have preferred, since the etiquette lunch still involves having to touch each other. I know they may not mind that so much someday soon but most of them were rolling their eyes and embarrassed as they had to walk arm-in-arm down the hall toward their luncheon.

Much to their happiness, the tables were separated into boys & girls instead of boy/girl. They had several courses, all with multiple sets of silverware so they'd be able to practice which fork to use. An ettiquette coach was there, walking them through each step of the lunch. Wish I'd had such training at their age since I was clueless on my first date to a very fancy restaurant.

Elle & I also helped in Paige's classroom party, where we had a huge crockpot full of melted chocolate and let the kids dip pretzels & marshmallows to their hearts' content. We took the leftovers home and had more chocolate-dipping for dessert.

Elle's favorite part of the day? Stepping into a balloon wonderland at the Dollar Store. Her mouth dropped open in shock when she saw this....

So, of course we had to bring some balloons home for us, too.

Operation Ute Fans

By Special Guest-Blogger Mike.

Early morning...November 22, 2008.

The rapid pounding on our front door jolted me awake from a deep sleep. Stumbling from my bed, blurry eyed and as cranky as a junkyard dog, I squinted to see the fuzzy glowing numbers emitted from the clock on my nightstand. It was 1:47 a.m.

Drowsy, half-dressed and carrying the only weapon I could find--a souvenir "Carlos V" sword from Spain--I felt my way down my dark hallway. I reached the front door, unlatched the lock, raised my sword menacingly in the air, and with a barbaric yawp, swung open the door.

The bitter November air rushed into my lungs sending ice pricklies throughout my body. Through the dim I could see a hooded figure wearing the deepest shade of royal blue (in fact, he looked a lot like a USU Aggie fan) fleeing my yard, jumping into a get-away car and speeding off into the night.

What was left behind was chaos. A mess of blue and white crepe paper illuminated only by moonlight was strewn about like a spider's web. Balloons the size of Max Hall's head (and, undoubtedly filled with the same light-weight material) hovered over the yard. It was clear what had happened. My home had been cougar-fied on the morning of the Utah/BYU football game.

The next morning as my children arose to survey the damage, they too were filled with a sense of disgust. My older children, Christian and Haley, stood stoically in the front yard staring at what had once been our lovely home but which was now desecrated in royal blue. For little Paige, however, the insult was too much to bear. She threw herself on her bed and sobbed:  "Now.....people will think...that we are...Cougar fans!"

As the father and spiritual leader of the Mayfield clan, I knew exactly how to help my children heal from the cruel vandalism of our home. I gathered my family together and convened a family counsel. I reminded my children of the lessons they had learned at church. I reviewed with them the countless family-home-evening lessons we had shared as a family. We even recited the golden rule together. When we finished, it was clear that there was only one right thing to do.

“Get revenge, right Dad?” asked Christian. “Exactly, my son.”

That morning, Operation Ute Fan was born.

Early morning...November 28, 2010.

A wise man once said that revenge is a dish best served cold. For two years, we plotted our revenge on the coug-lovin’ vandal (to protect his identify on this public forum we will only disclose that his first name is Jonathan and his last name starts with a “Z” and rhymes with “ollinger”). We planned. We schemed. We orchestrated. We knew where he lived, where he worked, where he went school, and where he slept. Like the Count of Monte Cristo, we patiently awaited while the vandal grew drunk in what he perceived to be his successful assault on our home. Then, just when he felt comfortable that he had escaped without any retribution….we pounced!

Paige and Haley spent that fateful morning hand-making pro-Utah signs (and a few anti-BYU signs too, if you include the sign that said “BYU…smells like pooh”). Christian mapped out our schedule and assault routes. I called our spy (an insider living in the vandal’s house) to make sure our plan would go off without interference.

The planning stage completed, we went to the mess hall for our last pre-mission meal. We knew that the physical and emotion demands of our mission would require a nutritious breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup.

After breakfast, we left mission control and headed for the munitions depot where we selected our weapons of choice.

Haley armed herself with crimson crepe paper.

Christian wielded a club of Ute wrapping paper.

In a wonderfully ironic twist, Paige selected red and white balloons filled with Max Hall's gray matter.

Heavily armed, and moving with the speed and skill of a team of stealth ninjas, we made our assault on the home of our vandal.  We started at his door….

....then moved to his bedroom, and then at last to his bed. Our message was clear: “Hey Mr. Cougar Fan…Ute Nation knows where you live and we know where you sleep!”

And that afternoon, our revenge was completed as the mighty Utah Utes claimed a thrilling victory over the Cougs. Final score: 17-16.

After the game, Haley and I rushed the field and made our pilgrimage to the exact spot where Utah's Brandon Burton, just minutes earlier, had blocked a field goal attempt to deliver a bitter loss to the Cougs. As we stood on that hallowed ground, we thought about the life lessons we had learned from Operation Ute Fan.

We learned that as a family we could become united in a noble cause. We learned how important it was to set a goal and accomplish it. We learned that spending time during family home evening planning the downfall of our enemy is a great way to bring happiness to our home.

And most of all, we learned that revenge served at any temperature….tastes really, really good.

They totally love her

My 2 biggest girlies did the sweetest thing for my littlest girlie today. They knew they would be having classroom Valentine's parties at school and would be getting lots of their own Valentines. But they also knew that little sister wouldn't be having a party today and might feel sad when she didn't receive Valentines like them. So, with much secrecy and giggling yesterday, they made Elle a Valentine's box, filled it with candy and cards, and presented it to her this morning.

Here's the best part about those Valentines, though .... Paige & Haley cut them all out before church yesterday, outlined them with markers and then took them all to church and had people sign them for Elle. Each heart has little messages from people all around our neighborhood that Elle knows and loves. That they had so much forethought and went to the effort for her makes me just love them so much! And I knew nothing about any of it. Whose children are they?

That last one is from sweet Bro. Tangren, whose 81st birthday was yesterday. Elle adores him.

How sweet is that??

With. His. Mouth.

I met such an inspiring kid over the weekend.  I was helping administer tests for 3rd graders hoping to join the Spectrum program, which is an advanced program for bright kids.  As the kids were being ushered into the classroom, I noticed one smaller boy who had obvious physical deformities.  He kept his arms folded into his chest and it was soon obvious that he didn't have use of his hands.  One of the other helpers took me aside and said, "That little boy will be taking the test with his mouth.  With. His. Mouth."   Sure enough, once we got started, he put his pencil in his mouth and proceeded to write his name and fill in the tiny bubbles on the answer sheet.  With his mouth.  I was blown away.  That little guy wasn't hindered in the least by the lack of his arms. 

Since I was assigned to monitor and help with the row he was seated on, I felt at a loss as to how, or if, I should help him.  I didn't want to jump in and offer help when he clearly wasn't asking for any.  But it was almost painful to watch him try to turn the test pages with only his pencil tip.  Eventually, he did glance up at me when he needed help (the test was timed afterall) and I was thankfully able to help him more as the test wore on.  But he filled in each and every tiny bubble with amazing skill.  He even erased a couple of his answers, as I stood hovering nearby just in case he needed help - which he didn't. 

I couldn't help but wonder about his parents.  Here was a kid who was independent, capable and confident.  Would I have risen a different child?  It was painful enough for me -- an outsider from his life -- to watch him struggle a little.  I'm sure I would have babied him had he been my child.  But he was just fantastic.  And inspiring.

I came right home from the test and told my kids about him -- how they should be incredibly grateful for bodies that work and for relatively easy lives.  They'll be hard-pressed to get sympathy from me over any little complaint from now on.  And I know the image of that little boy - pencil in his mouth, deep in concentration - won't be leaving me anytime soon.  I gained something by just watching him.  And for that, I'm deeply grateful.

Back in Black! belt

Last Saturday was momentous. Huge. Epic. Because ... this is now my son.

He's a black belt!! I'm still smiling -- I'm soooo stinkin' proud of him.

Black belt testing is a grueling process -- 6 hours of physical endurance tests, sparring, form memorization and performance, board breaking and a written portion. It was brutal, both for Christian and for his mom who couldn't watch when he was being kicked and punched.

Of course, he needed the mother of all Gatorades to get through the day.

Proud (and nervous) mom & dad....

After he broke that board, he turned and kicked through another board and then kicked through 3 boards together with a different kick. Total bad-a#%. ;)

I couldn't help but cry when they handed him his new uniform and belt. What a huge accomplishment that's taken him about 4 years to achieve. 14 different belts, hours and hours of training, the occasional bloody knuckle or foot from board breaking.... I couldn't be more proud.