Did I really just say that?

M:"Skyler, stop complaining. Aria, don't tie your brother in a knot."

Skylerism

Overheard in Aria's room. Skyler is trying to get to a toy on the top shelf of the closet.

S:"It's too high to reach!"

A:"What are you going to do? Are you going to do wall-jumping?"

S:"No! I'm not going to do wall-jumping, Aria. Why, that's impossible! (Pause). I'm going to climb the wall like Spiderman."

Did I really just say that?

This is a new series I'm starting, inspired by my friend Jaymie, who periodically documents the strange things that come out of her mouth as a parent. I'd like to dedicate this first one to her.

Shelby: "Alright, new rule. No one in this family is allowed to shoot anybody else in this family ever again."

Pajama bottoms

I've been thinking a lot about pajama bottoms. They most recently head-lined in my brain when Shelby and I attended Light in the Piazza at the Pioneer Theater in Salt Lake a couple of weeks ago. A minute or two after we'd taken our seats, a young woman walked up the aisle next to us wearing pajama bottoms...well, she had more than JUST pajama bottoms on. I'm pretty sure there was a pajama top as well, hidden not-so-cleverly under a hooded sweatshirt.

Now, I consider myself a fairly non-judgmental person, but I couldn't help but think to myself...and out loud to Shelby, "What on earth is she doing coming to a professional theatrical production wearing pajama bottoms?!" I then, in the privacy of my head, ranted about people wearing them out in pubic. Later, I felt a little guilty because I have, on two different occasions, gone out in public wearing pajama bottoms. So, after much thought and consideration, I've decided that there are just a few, rare exceptions, when I think it is perfectly socially acceptable to wear pajama bottoms out in public. Feel free to disagree with me, but this is my list:

1. It is anytime after 11:00pm and your children are sick. Trips to the store for medicine, or to the hospital may be made in PJ B's.

2. It is anytime after 8:00pm and it is "that time of the month." Trips to the store for medicine, sanitary supplies, or chocolate may be made in PJ B's.

3. You are asked to paint a set on a Saturday morning. You may wear your PJ B's.

4. You are in a show and are traveling straight to the theater, on a night when you have no one you know coming, where you will change directly into your costume. After the show, you will not go anywhere with friends, but will go directly home. You may wear PJ B's.

5. You are actually clinically depressed. You may wear PJ B's.

6. You have just had a baby (no more than 6 weeks ago) and are making a diaper run, because your baby goes through 11 diapers every day and your husband had to go back to work, so he can't make the run for you. You may wear PJ B's.

It is more than possible that I have missed a few special circumstances, so if you can think of any, please feel free to add them. Like I said, you may also disagree. I've just been thinking about this for several weeks, and I'm hoping that by writing it down, I can finally get some sleep. In my favorite pajama bottoms. At home.

Ariaism

Over dinner tonight:

S:"Aria, What do you call a snowman in June?"

A:"Uhm, Winter?"

S:"No, it's Summer. June is Summer. What do you call a snowman in June?"

A:"Uhm, I don't know."

S:"A puddle!"


A:"Ha! Ok. What do you call a train in February?"

S:"A train in February is still a train."

A:"Oh. Right. Well, what do you call a train in December in corn?"

S:(Confused) What?"

A: "Grass!"

Christmas Traditions

I get a little funny during the holidays. Well, I'm always a little funny, sometimes a lot funny where people laugh at my aside comments or entire rooms erupt into applause at some joke I came up with. But, by "a little funny" in this case, I mean "a tad quirky." There are just some things about the season, you know?

I bake. Like last year I baked...and baked and baked and baked SO much that my husband thought I was pregnant. No, I wasn't and no I'm not. I just like to bake when it snows, okay? I like how my house smells, I like that I can share my bake-y things and I like that I can eat as many of my bake-y things as I want when everyone else has gone to bed. So far this year, I've made so much banana bread, gingerbread, and peanut butter balls it would make your head spin! I went through our entire flour food storage last December and it's going that way again this year. So,if you are still wondering, "What on earth could I get Annie for Christmas this year?" as I know many of you are, you might consider flour. It's relatively inexpensive and it's something I would really like...and that YOU might really like a couple of weeks later in cookie-form. Which brings me to the next topic:

I'm kind of a strange person to shop for. I've been notified recently that I frustrate some people because I rarely ask for anything really cool for Christmas. It turns out that the things I like to get are not necessarily the kinds of things that people like to give. For instance, last year I seriously BEGGED my husband to get me some large plastic storage bins. He finally relented, but insisted that if anyone asked me what my husband got for me, I was supposed to say jewelry, or a fancy something else...anything but plastic storage bins. Sorry honey, secret's out! On the list this year are CD storage wallets, a new shower liner, and various colors of eye shadow(I think Shelby has those covered. Thank you, honey!) It's not that I can't purchase these things for myself, or that my husband doesn't make enough money or anything like that. I just always choose to by-pass these items. "Another time." No particular reason. I don't mean to be annoying. I just like not-cool stuff, I guess. I'm cool with that. Maybe you could be too! So, maybe if you're still thinking, "What should I get Annie for Christmas?" you could think of the top not-cool presents. I'd probably LOVE them! I could use one or two more storage bins. I'm just sayin'....

I am ALL about holiday traditions, I just have a really bad memory about those kinds of things. I swear to you, every year I have to have Shelby remind me how we do Christmas morning. As children (and truthfully, faithfully through our teenage years) we came out on Christmas morning after, and ONLY after, we heard the voice of Pee Wee Herman scream, "IT'S CHRISTMAS!!" followed immediately by dancing/singing gold-sequin-clad back-up girls and the sharp choreography of the Naval Academy Men's Choir. Having Pee Wee's Christmas Special playing while we opened presents was so strangely normal to us. It was not until I mentioned this in Relief Society about 6 years ago, when we were talking about traditions, that I realized that this was not the sort of tradition that most families take part in (I gathered this from the absolute halt in comments and the looks of 30 faces staring at me in bewilderment. I also learned that night that not everything that comes to my mind needs to be shared). While my children do watch this show during the holiday season, it is not part of our Christmas morning routine. Maybe that's why I have no idea what we DO do. I'm sure Shelby will let me know soon.

I enjoy shoveling snow. I like the way my toasty body sweats inside all my outdoor gear and I like the way, in contrast, my eyes freeze because no one's ever invented eye-mittens. I like the satisfaction of seeing the results of my hard work and being a part of that Truman Show-esque moment when every household has someone outside takin' care of business. No-you know what I mean! I like to be that person.

I still cannot successfully wrap gifts. If you pick up the one that's all crumply and has way too much tape on it--that's from me. I don't even need to make a tag. You'll just know. I have given you the gift of predictability. Merry Christmas.

Seriously, Merry Christmas.

Ariaism

Looking at a picture on Grandma's refrigerator. The picture is of a little naughty boy looking at Santa.

Grandma:"Aria, what do you think of that little boy? He looks naughty."

Aria:"He's not naughty, Grandma."

Grandma:"No? Well, what is he?"

Aria:"He's mad."

Grandma:"Why is he mad?"

Aria:"He's mad at Santa because he didn't get what he wanted for Christmas."

Ariaism

A:"Mom! I know all 3 cities in Clearfield!"
M:"Really? What are they?"
A:"Well, one is Clearfield, then Provo, and the last one is Idaho. Idaho is my favorite city in Clearfield."

Our Gallery

The Ferrin family is proud to announce the grand opening of our new art gallery. Admission is only 1 magic eraser.
Can those erase red sharpies? Here is the proud artist, and his "proud" father:

Ward Christmas Party

Tonight for our ward Christmas party, the primary children participated in a nativity scene. Skyler was a shepherd and Aria was an angel. I know, I know.
Skyler, looking thrilled, with his fellow shepherds. Apparently he had to take down a desert leopard to clothe himself. The exertion was overwhelming for him:
Aria and Ruby:The whole shabang:
Aria secretly wanted to be a lamb (and practiced baa-ing all afternoon), but she went on as an angel and was very proud of herself. Afterward, she asked her daddy, "How long do we play?"

D: "Play what?"

A: "That little show we just did."

D: "Oh. That's it, honey. Just that one time."

A: "Hm, that's not a very long run."

Roto rooter

As many of you know, and as was mentioned previously, Shelby recently underwent a surgery which his ENT affectionately called the "Roto Rooter" treatment. It was a long time coming and we are so grateful for all the generous and wonderful support we have had from family and friends.

The surgery consisted of a much-needed septoplasty, turbinate reduction, and removal of some sinus bone. I've seen poor Shelby in better shape both before and after the surgery, but now, nearly two weeks out, we are beginning to notice the positive changes in his ability to breathe and drain (gross, but necessary) properly. Hallelujah! Stick it out, babe! You're doing great!

Here are some photos from surgery day, beginning with this pre-surgery cheese ball. You can't see it, but he had booties that matched his cool hat. SO stylin'.
Here is how he thought he would look after the surgery.
Here's how he actually looked after the surgery. Pretty close, huh? He doesn't remember much of this time. I had to keep reminding him to breathe. That was fun and not at all upsetting...for both of us.
Here's how I looked after the surgery, completely confident in my ablility to care for Shelby.
And here, we finally got him home where he could recover comfortably, and by comfortably I mean totally uncomfortably with kids yelling and climbing all over him and with his wife accidentally elbowing him in the nose in the middle of the night. It's actually a miracle he's recovering :) What a trooper! See how happy he looks?!
Thanks again to everyone for your help, prayers, and support. Thanks to you, Shelby will finally be able to breathe easily.

Ariaism

Shelby here, hijacking the blog again.

Last night I gathered the children together to share something very special with them. Something that has been an important influence for good in my life. Something filled with wisdom and mirth that has carried me through tough times. Something that only comes on TV during the first part of December.

I'm talking about that yuletide classic, "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer."

If you think I'm joking about how influential that movie has been for me, you've obviously never heard me reassure my wife in moments of codependence, "let's be independent together." Or bad-mouthed a cranky child by teasing, "Hermie doesn't like to make toys." And you've probably never seen me cry when talking about the Island of Misfit Toys, home to the wonderful toys who have been shunned because they don't work quite like others expect them too. Think about what I do for a living and you'll realize why, though it sounds absurd, I'm not kidding. I bawl every time.

The movie taught be such life lessons at a tender age, which is why I was so eager to share it with my children.

So there I was, holding Aria next to me when Rudolph was suddenly rejected for his shiny nose, rejected by all, that is, but the lovely Clarice, who reassured him, "there's always tomorrow for dreams to come true."

Because Aria has had a rough time lately with being good for Christmas, I took this opportunity to teach her that tomorrow will always be another day, filled with opportunities for change and even for dreams to come true.

Dad: "Who knows what tomorrow will be like, Aria? Even if you've had a terrible day and gotten into lots of trouble, tomorrow might be the best day of your life."

Aria: "The best day - of my life!?"

Dad: "Yes, you never know when your dreams will come true. Tomorrow might be the day when everything turns out just the way you've dreamed."

Aria: "Yes! There will be pink, sparkly ice cream!"

We all learn life's lessons at our own pace, I guess.

Xanderism

The kids are in the tub.


A:"Mom! Xander bit me!! Ow! Mom! Xander BIT me!!"

S:"It's because he thinks you're delicious."

M:"Xander!?"

X, smiling and poking his head above the rim of the tub:"Yum. Yum yum."

A college Thanksgiving

A little shout out to Jaymie, who reminded me of one of the strangest holidays I've ever had.

One fall at BYU a bunch of us who were not going home for the holiday decided to host our own Thanksgiving dinner in our condo. We decorated the table and even donned pilgrim and Native American garb cut from paper grocery sacs.

While many of the guests were quite experienced cooks, some of us were most definitely not, as was evidenced by my sealing the pie securely to the pie plate by wrapping the crust up and under the tin. It was fine craftsmanship.

I still can't remember who broke the thermometer in half. I only remember the declaration that whoever found the other half of the thermometer in their piece of turkey was prophesied to have good luck for the following year.

I remember that Janna and I tried to make the gravy, that the fat was poured down the drain and that there was a lot of flour involved. The "gravy" somehow turned green, and though no one ate it (as per a warning from the chefs) the guests had seen how hard we worked on whatever it was and insisted that it at least be placed on the table.

I know this isn't the kind of post I usually make, but is there anyone out there who remembers more details? My memory is less than reliable.

Also, I have still never made my own gravy (except from the packet). I choose to fight my demons one at a time. Oh, and I think Thanksgiving should be at MY house next year. Muu ha ha ha!