Bean Sniffer

It's been a long time since #2 lost something up his nostrils. Long enough to forget that he shouldn't do it.

Sunday night I served chicken tacos and black beans for dinner. After we had eaten I began clearing the table and putting things away. #1 and #2 were still at their places, chatting and giggling. Suddenly it got quiet and then #1 blurted out #2's secret.

"Mom, #2 has a black bean in his nose."

I inspected the dark orifice, but found no evidence of bean.

"Well, #2. I hope you don't die. Beans on the brain are deadly."

All traces of silliness drained from his shocked face. (Does this make me the worst mom ever?)

"Let's give your body some time to try to get rid of it on its own. If it doesn't come out in 20 minutes I'll have to take you to the hospital."

I had no intention of taking him to the hospital. I figured if the bean didn't birth itself, it would disintegrate over time, never posing any real harm. Maybe I'm totally wrong. Please inform me if nasally ingested beans are in fact deadly.

I kept cleaning up the kitchen, my mind moving onto other things like, "Why didn't I make dessert tonight? Where is my chocolate?" Several minutes passed before I remembered #2.

He was still sitting at the table, head hanging low, looking despondent. He was doing his very best not to cry.

Oops. I guess you shouldn't joke about death with a five year old. I knelt down next to him and wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sure you will be just fine. You body is probably working really hard right now to get rid of that bean."

He laid his dirty face on my clean shoulder and broke into deep sobs. Gasping for breath, "I" gasp, gasp, "don't," sob, sob, "want," sucking air, "to," snort, snort, "die."

Then a thought struck me. All this crying was producing a lot of mucus. Just what his little nose needed to expel a big black bean. I grabbed a tissue and told him to blow. While he blew I explained the mucus theory. He blew harder. On the fourth or fifth forceful blow I heard a huge "thwack" sound. We checked the tissue and sure enough, there was that slimy legume!

I thought the boy would wipe his tears away and shout hooray. But no, the relief was so immense he collapsed his dirty face onto my other clean shoulder and shook with more sobs. Sobs of joy from the deliverance from death by bean.

When he finally calmed down he was still laying on my shoulder, shuddering with after-cry-shocks. "I'm so glad I'm not going to die. I'm so glad I sniffed out that bean."

In his prayers that night, "I'm thankful that I sniffed that bean out."

First thing the next morning, "Mom, member when I almost died yesterday, but I sniffed that bean out?"

Desert Garden Report

Manure was spread and seeds were planted. I think. The kids did the work, while I tried to direct the operation. In true form, #1 was the garden expert and didn't need to be told what to do. I figured since I don't know what the heck I'm doing I might as well let her do things her way.

We sowed (I think) some vegetables and some flowers.

Last night I left #1 reading on the couch while I put #2 and #3 to bed. When I came out 10 minutes later the couch was empty. "#1?" I called out. The glass door to the backyard slid open and #1 came inside, wiping her feet. "I was saying good night to the garden. I told it to try and grow some tonight."

This morning at first light, #1 bolted from her bed and out to the garden to see if anything had appeared. Nope. But hope is still high.

Immediately after school the children raced out back to water. They were disappointed not to find any green heads pushing through the brown manure mixed dirt. But they are still out there playing, staying near their precious garden.

Who needs a puppy? Apparently a bit of cow poop, some seeds and a watering can are just as exciting.

Mystical powers of manure

This afternoon I had 50 pounds of fertilizer in the back of my jeep. It was carried the long way around the house from the garage to the back corner of the yard where I am about to attempt to plant my very first Arizona garden. It is 105 outside and I wasn't about to get my hair sweaty.

What's that? Who did this dirty job for me? Oh, it was my hulky five year son. All it took was two magical words.

Cow poop. And he was begging to do the job.

A short lesson on death

#1 is always attempting to educate me. Just this morning while I was teaching her to tie her shoes she was persuaded that I was doing it wrong and that I should watch her. And that should answer your question as to why she is seven and can't tie her own shoes.... because she thinks she already knows how.

I recently received another illuminating nugget of intelligence from #1. In her best teacher to student voice she informed me:

When you die you have three choices. You can choose to be burned to ashes or be buried under the ground. The third choice is to be eaten by vultures.








Now you know why I'm so smart.

What Not to Say

...when your wife says, "I look like a whale in this dress!"



Answer: "A cute whale."

The long weekend

How was your long weekend? Was it wonderful? Last night as Spouse and I lay on our bed exhausted he said, "I wish I had every Monday off." I do too. Spouse was especially heroic this weekend.

When I returned from my Saturday morning run at 6:30, he was dressed and finishing off a healthy bowl of Trix (I know! I tell him all the time that Trix are for kids!) And then he was out the door, on his way to a side job to earn himself some extra cash for his gun accessories

He warned me the job might take up to four hours. But the four hours turned into six hours as my Saturday became just another day at home with the kids. I wasn't exactly pleased. After house cleaning I rebelled and let the kids make a huge mess of the house while I watched the first three episodes of Vanity Fair (1998 BBC version). That afternoon when Spouse finally came through the door I had reached my limit, I needed to be ALONE!

Spouse understood. He loaded the kids into the jeep and took them to the railroad park that was having a Labor Day special, one ticket rides! The kids got out of the house, had fun, got hot and sweaty and I got a few hours all to myself. What did I do? I watched the remaining 3 episodes of Vanity Fair. So it really wasn't such a bad Saturday after all. Six hours of BBC, I can't complain.







Monday morning Spouse drove the whole family up north to the Tonto Natural Bridge State Park. We brought a picnic lunch and then hit the trails for some great, kid friendly hikes. Spouse took #1 and #2 bouldering down at the bottom of the ravine so they could get inside the bridge. The day was beautiful and it was refreshing to get out of the hot city, and
see a green and cooler part of Arizona.

Here is a really nerdy looking picture of me, but it is the only one we had that captured the bridge.
The blue tongue is from the disgusting patriotic themed cupcakes my kids begged for at the grocery store.


What about you?