.::still blinking::.

One time in high school, my english teacher told us that the next chapter in the book that we were reading had a sex scene in it. We all went home and read like crazy looking for the sex. I did not find it, but you know that everyone was at home dilligently searching and reading the next chapter hoping for a glimpse of this secret adult world. That was a good way into tricking us into reading.

There is one of the girls in the young women who does not know what sex is. Nothing about it. I have been aware of this for about a month and it has bewildered me for this long. I am finally thinking that something needs to be done though.

We have a lesson about sexual purity a little while ago. The lady who was teaching the lesson called all the parents of the girls to let them know what we were going to be talking about. So that if anyone had any questions when they came home, the parents would know why. I thought that was very considerate of this teacher. There was one set of parents though that said that their daughter did not know what sex was, she had never heard that word before. She would not know what we were talking about.

I found out after the lesson about all this and was discussing it with the young women’s president. I was kind of shocked. I remember coming home from school when I was in like 2nd grade and asked what sex was. My parents sat me down and told me the entire process, all the sickening details. I was shocked and I definitely think that is to early to tell a child. But isn’t 12 old enough to know. The girl is in junior high, she is going to find out from someone sometime. The young women’s president said that her seven year old knows in a very basic sense what it was. She said that he knows that mommies and daddies that love each other make babies. He may not know the words, but he is seven. But this seven year old knows more than this oblivious 12 year old.

Today the teacher started the lesson off by saying something about chastity. This girl asked what chastity was. The leaders tried to answer the question the best that they could with out actually answering it. They used the word morality. She did not know what that was either. When everyone was done trying to explain what it was I leaned over to her and told her to ask her parents. They are a better source of the knowledge then we are and they will know how to tell her better than we will. Hopefully they will do the job and inform her. Later on the young women’s president said something about skinny dipping and how she had accidently found something about that on the internet. Everyone laughed and the girl leaned over to me and asked what that was. I told her it was swimming with no clothes. I did not expound on my skinny dipping adventures. Probably not to acceptable for church youth.

I am perplexed though. Isn’t not telling her about sex, like not telling her about drugs and hoping that she makes the right decision in a strange situation?

I don’t think that her parents are doing her any favors by keeping her in this bubble. I know that we use this word a lot in Utah. But really, some things need to be taught. No matter how uncomfortable they make you. This is not the kind of stuff that you wait to teach your child right before she turns sixteen. This is the kind of stuff that you have open dialogues about. This is the kind of stuff that you need to be incredibly open and willing to talk about. This is not an off limits subject.

Lately, Gentry has picked up a lot of slang and not so slang words. They are rather funny.

For instance, if you ask him if he is coloring, he will answer, “Sure.” He uses “sure” in place of “yes” almost always. Are you watching Monsters? Sure. Did you poop? Sure. Is that your elbow? Sure.

He also says “gosh” all the time. When he is flustered from laughing he will say it. It sounds a lot like when Goofy says it with a funny voice inflection. Kind of a “Gorsh.” Or if he is excited about something like a bandaid on his finger, “Gorsh.” Or if we get a new book from the library, “Gorsh.”

He picked up “dang it” yesterday. Marni, jj’s sister, came down and said it a couple of times I guess. He has been saying it ever since. “Dang it, more juice. Now!” That is actual phrasing. “Color, dang it.” How does he know when to say all this stuff? I don’t know. Crazy kid.

We have been asking him to say “please” instead of “now!” “Salsa, now!” Can you say please? In the most angelic voice he will say “pleeeeeease.” It is very sing-song when he says it and it melts my heart. “Hold you, please.” Which translated means, hold me. If he is asking please we are so much more likely to give in.

He also has picked up “stupid.” I didn’t think that I said this that much, but he must have picked it up the couple of times that I have said it. He says it to get a rise out of me, and it does. Very smart kid, if you ask me.

We have a little photo album that we take to church with us. It has pictures of us and his grandparents and him in it. All the pictures of him as a baby he says are baby josh. All babies that we pass in the store a baby josh. Basically, all babies are baby josh. Cute.

A sketch for a logo that I am working on. This is not any sort of announcement.

I have been debating whether or not to share this, but I figure that a bunch of you are in for it in a short while anyway. So here goes.

A couple days ago Gentry pooped in the tub. I know this is not ground breaking or anything and he has done it before, but he has been so funny about it ever since.

When we saw him sitting in the tub with a great big poop we immediatly removed him and went and decontaminated him in the other bathtub. Gentry was so sad about it. It was probably the way that we acted that brought on the enormous melt down that followed the event. For a little while he would not lie down in my tub so that I could properly lather, rinse, repeat. Then when he finally did lie down, and I washed him, he would not get back up. He wanted to stay in the tub. I was not in the mood to see if he had any other suprise to share. So I got him out.

While I was bathing Gentry, jj began the wash and sterilization of the tub that had just been defecated in. He filled the bathroom sink with clorox and water and started washing all the toys that were in the the tub at the same moment. He then got out the Ajax and washed the tub. He was very efficient and thorough. He deserves a reward. I know just what he would like.

The next day every person that I talked to Gentry had to interrupt and say, “Pooped! Tub!” All the people would smile and then look at me quizzically. I would tell them that he had pooped in the tub and that he was obviously very proud of the fact. It was semi-mortifying to discuss the bowel movements of my son with my mothers coworkers, including but not limited to, the Mayor of Herriman. Who is very understanding, having raised five children himself. I just like to pretend that I am civilized and that such disturbances never happen in my life.

He was still talking about it today when I gave him a bath. He got in the tub and said happily, “Pooped! Tub!” I hoped he was stating fact and not warning of things to come. Here’s to the ghost of things to come.

Tonight when we walked out of the church after young womens, it stunk outside. This is not a rare occurance. It stinks where I live quite often. But one of the girls said, “It stinks so bad.” To which another replied, “That’s my dad. I bet you did not know he was so effective.”

How hilarious? The silliness of these girls is so funny somedays. jj and I had to teach Sunday school for all the youth in the ward because at the last minute all the teachers called and said that they would not be there. So of course jj turned to me. I planned the entire thing and then turned it all over to him. He did a good job, we played jeopardy. But one of the girls was talking about the “sea” that we live by. Nobody knew what she was talking about and then someone said, “The Salt Lake, that is a lake.” To which someone else said,” The Great Salt Sea.” He he. Funny kids.

Some of those kids cannot shut up though. It is like they are constantly building up pressure and they have to continually let it escape. These kids make me slightly crazy. But I don’t have to deal with them all the time, when I do though, it makes me wonder about the attention they are not getting at home. Why else would kids be like that? They are good kids though, just constantly talking. and talking. and talking. and talking.

If you are looking for a way to throw up, here is a good way to make it happen.

My sister told me about it and it is seriously disgusting.

Let the dry heaving begin.

Have you ever seen a sky like this before?

It looks like fire.

I love the light in this picture. One of the young women took it the other day at a corn maze. It was only lit by the flash and sparsely hung big Christmas lights.

Today was a fun day. The boy was fun, he entertained himself a little bit, giving me bits of time to myself. I was able to clean the kitchen and keep the house clean. He even took a three hour nap. An enormous rarity. He usually takes like an hour nap if that. The day went fast, it was a sharp contrast to yesterday.

It started off well, and quickly dwindled. We ate breakfast and I tried to clean up the kitchen. I was trying to clean off the counter and make some tea and put pictures into an album. The boy came over and knocked over my grande cup of tea on the pictures. I then had to lie them all out over all the surfaces of the kitchen hoping that they would not turn purple or lose their color. I was then forced to give up my hopes of cleaning the kitchen.

We then went upstairs to clean the bathroom, I took the broom with me. Things were going pretty well, I would give him a clorox wet wipe so he could do what I was doing. But he got bored with that pretty quickly and decided to play with the broom, which he started wielding as an s-word. It was funny for the first hit, the second infuriated me, the third hit I took it away from him and all hell broke loose.

He pretty much blubbered for the entire rest of the day. He would not remove himself from my thigh, if he could have implanted himself in my leg he would have. There was not escaping the child. That was pretty much the end of the happiness yesterday. I won’t endlessly describe the rest of the day, mostly because I seem to have blocked it from my memory.

How can these days, when we do basically the same thing everyday and all day, be so starkly different? How do the moods of a 23 month old child dictate the direction of a day?

Have you seen Mr. Davis’ face? Well if you do, you will know why my fear of deer has been once again confirmed.

Beautiful? No! She is looking to kill.

This kid came over the other day selling books for $38.00.

I answered the door when he knocked and we talked for a second and he then said, “Is your mom home?”

I really had to think about this. My mom? She doesn’t live here. Oh, the mom of this house. I replied after some major thinking, “I am the mom.”

He proceeded to tell me what he was selling and why and blah blah blah. I was like can I just give you some money to get the heck out of here. As I was going to get my money he asked, “So how old are you? Twenty-two?”

When is this going to end? Some of you may consider this a blessing. But I am getting kind of tired of being thought of as a teenager with a child. I have been 17 for the last nine years.