Tough Bananas

A Whole New World

Life can be challenging when you are little. All the good stuff is stored just out of your reach. Would you like to go play in the basement? Sure, but who will turn the light on? You’d like to help yourself to some gum, but it’s tucked away up in cupboard. Thanks to the step stool, you can reach the sink to wash your hands, but what fun is that? If only that step stool was portable. Yes, if you could move it around to the location of your desire, life would be so good – all those things you’ve longed for would be attainable. It would be shining, shimmering, even, dare I say, splendid?

No one could tell you “no” or where to go. Or say you’re only dreaming. It would be a whole new world of possibilities. The new sights – did you know they have a candy jar up there? Indescribable feelings when you discover the pens and pencils that have been waiting for you. Probably one hundred thousand different things to see from your new vantage point.

I’m not sure who invented the portable step stool, but he or she is the hero of every child shorter than the counter top.

Stand amazed at my might power. This step stool and I cannot be defeated. — Stand amazed at my might. This step stool and I cannot be defeated.

See how I deftly move it with just my foot. THE POWER!

Nothing is out of my reach now. Bwahahaha.

She now has a portable "thinking spot". I did not think this through. — She now has a portable “thinking spot”. I did not think this through.

National Kazoo Day – 2014

Yes, this is a real thing.

I know, I was surprised, too. But I looked it up and yes, National Kazoo Day is legit. Well, in the US. But we like our neighbours to the south so our family came up with this tribute to celebrate all that is the kazoo.

And now we present to you, The Moyer Special: Kazoo Day.

There are some other very talented kazoo players you can see: Amanda and the man who got the event going in Canada, Ricky.

Lost in Translation

There’s a lot involved in raising children. We are responsible for teaching them social skills, personal hygiene, ABCs, colours, what not to lick and that you should not vacuum your brother. I thought we were doing a pretty good job getting all the basics covered with our fourth son, but somehow we’ve dropped the ball with communication.

No matter how we explain it, how often we repeat it, how we model its use in correct context, Little does not seem to know what “I’m hungry” means.

——-

Little, please put your cars away.

No, I hungry.

We’re not having gum right now.

Why won't you give me back my marble when clearly I am wasting away here? — Why won’t you give me back my marble when clearly I am wasting away here?

But I hungry.

Please leave your bib on.

I hungry.

You can watch a show later.

Please?! I hungry.

Don’t sit on your brother.

I hungry. Please.

We’re all done drinking pop.

But I hungry.

Do you need to use the potty?

I hungry.

We can do play doh in a minute.

But I hungry.

You can go get your own water bottle. It’s upstairs.

I huuuungry.

This is Mommy’s coffee. Hot. No touch.

I so hungry.

——–

We’re at the point now where I’m going to give up and just hope for the best. Maybe he’s on to something. This might be a genius tactic for getting out of undesirable things. Actually, I think I might try it.

Mommy, someone peed on the floor.

Sorry, I hungry.

Bast & Moyer Present: Canadian Currency

My friend, Amanda and I work together, go to church together, basically just do life together and now we vlog together. Soon our minds will have melded into one, but for now, we give you this.

We’re Canadians so you know we love our coins. Here’s some trivia about our currency, with a few other tidbits thrown in.

You can read more from Bast at her blog, mandiemarie.com and follow her on twitter.

For some other fun videos (and the inspiration for our inaugural post, it was supposed to be a 3 minute response, but ended up being a 20 minute gem, hence we’re sharing this nugget) check out Lydia and Elizabeth.

Just fold your hands. Please.

Meal time.

We gather our family around the kitchen table to partake of a carefully prepared meal. The boys have graciously helped to set out the plates and have only asked six or seven times why we cannot have pop to drink.

Once we have settled in, everyone waits patiently for a serving. And no one snaps an irritated “hold on a second can’t you see I’m helping your brother why don’t you go get the milk yourself?”

No. Our family is happy to spend this quality time together.

“May I please have an extra serving of vegetables, Mother?”

“Dear brother, would you mind passing me the butter when you are finished with it?”

“Here, allow me to get an extra spoon, Father – it’s no trouble at all.”

“No dessert for me, I am absolutely stuffed from that delicious rice concoction – adding extra mushrooms was inspired!”

“Mommy, you look tired, tell us about your day while I go put some coffee on.”

As we wrap up this delightful family time of conversation and replenishment, Bearded Husband passes me the family devotion book to read. The boys all listen attentively and ask how the truths presented can be applied in their lives. This is followed by a short prayer.

“Alright, everyone, let’s pray. Quiet, please. Close your eyes, Little. Eyes closed. Shhh. SHHHH. Listen. How does God want you to act at prayer time? JESUS WOULD NOT PICK HIS TOE JAM AT THE TABLE.”

(Only one of those quotes is true – can you guess which one was actually said? Take a moment, it’s tricky.)

But I have snow tires

That was a close call.

I know, but it worked out, didn’t it?

It didn’t have to happen at all if you were a better planner.

It wasn’t that big of a deal.

What?!

Well, ok, it was kind of a big deal.

You shouldn’t even have been out in that weather.

To be fair, I do have snow tires.

(Sigh).

There was an advisory to stay indoors unless absolutely necessary.

Well….

And you took the convertible?

What choice do I have? No arms. Or hands.

You could have been stranded for hours.

But I wasn’t.

You never told me why you were out. It must have been important.

Milk?

Batteries?

Diapers?

Those are definitely all important.

Bread?

Eggs?

Aspirin?

No…

Bananas?

Cough Syrup?

Coffee. It was coffee.

——

This post was made possible by the very talented, Burrill Strong. Make yourself a cup of coffee, grab some M&Ms and take some time to check out his work at Burrill Strong Photography. You can also follow him on twitter.

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Whether or not you have snow tires, what would you risk the elements to do?

Charmin: Stop it.

When I was young the biggest concern surrounding toilet paper was trying to squeeze it without Mr. Whipple catching you.

And that’s how we liked it.

Charmin, I feel like you need a friend. A real friend who will tell you the hard truths. You have spinach in your teeth. Yes, that outfit does make your bum look big. No, you can’t pull off that perm. Hon, that sweater just needs to go.

That friend.

So I’m telling you: stop it.

People don’t want to talk about toilet paper or what they want from their TP. Did they just talk about “skid marks” in that last commercial?! Yes, yes they did.

Here’s the most anyone ever wants to say about toilet paper. I made a list for easy reference:

1. We need more toilet paper

Vague references to “softness” and “absorbant” without really getting into the nitty-gritty details of toilet paper and its role in our lives, that’s what the masses want. All we need to know is that your product can help us take care of business at a good price point. If your paper is even just a bit better than the recycled, accordion-folded sandpaper found in our schools growing up, then you’ve got us as loyal customers. Call it a day, Marketing Department and go home.

You couldn’t leave it at that, though. Next you introduced us to the Bear Family. I thought it strange that bears were chosen to sell toilet paper, but carried on, I’m not a marketing expert.

But then you went too far.

I don’t want to think about random bits of toilet paper left on anyone’s (bear or human) behind. And now we’re discussingt if we like going to the bathroom? THE BEARS ARE TEXTING FROM THE TOILET.

Oh, Charmin, what have you done?

Where is your blue liquid?

What happened to quilted softness?

Who took over for Mr. Whipple?

Are we savages just squeezing toilet paper at will?

How did you get “skid marks” past the censors?

Do you even use a test group before you launch these campaigns?

Do you owe money to bears?

Please, Charmin, I’m begging you. Stop it. Or at the very least, bring back Mr. Whipple.

My 5 Rules for Eyes-Closed Tag

We planned to go skating, tobogganing (American translation: sledding) and play some shinny (street hockey) with the neighbours. But what do you do when it’s too cold outside even for hearty Canadians like ourselves? After multiple races on the Wii, a game of “Apples to Apples” that got a little too physical, and some heated debates about various pronunciation of words, we moved things to the basement. I never know how these games get started, but I was quickly roped into playing another game of “Eyes-Closed Tag”.

To play this extremely safe game, one person is It and closes his/her eyes while attempting to find other people in a sectioned-off area of the basement. If you are tagged, you are then It. Pretty simple, but we needed a few ground rules.

My Five Rules for Eyes-Closed Tag

1. Protective gear is not mandatory, but do move slowly to avoid serious injury (this applies primarily to the one who is It).

2. You can’t hide directly behind someone. Ok, you can, but not behind me. I refuse to be a human shield.

3. Throwing small toys to create a diversion is acceptable and at times encouraged, but try to avoid hitting fellow players.

Nylon pants are noisy - choose your clothing wisely — Nylon pants are noisy – choose your clothing wisely

4. No peeking.

5. No, really – no peeking.

A few extra bits of advice….

According to BH, if you don’t cheat and really keep your eyes closed then “your other senses will be even stronger” (I think he has watched “Daredevil” too many times). The truth is, we all know when you don’t – subtlety is not your strong suit. Plus, only peekers completely avoid bumping into things for the entire game – you are not that skilled.

It’s okay if you prefer to watch, but if you’re going to give hints to your brother keep in mind that “he’s right there. Right there. RIGHT. THERE.” while frantically pointing, really tells nothing (please see Rule #5). Also, consider learning your Left and Right.

———

Your turn – what questionable games did you devise as a kid? Was a helmet required?

I Never Knew

As the adults in the lives of young children we seem to spend so much of our time teaching them. And we do. By our words, our actions, our inaction, by how we spend our time with them. But the small children in my life have taught me a lot. Before I became a parent, I did not know so much.

I never knew how selfish I could be.

I never fully grasped how much my parents love me.

I never knew how much I would appreciate those teachers who really get to know their students and meet them where they are. Thank you.

I never knew how outraged I would be when another kid hurt one of my boys.

I also never knew how upset I would feel when my toddler hit a non-family member (but he certainly found out in a hurry).

I never knew how selfish I could be.

I never knew how much my attitude and response impacts those around me.

I did not realize that sometimes a hug and a kiss really can make it all better.

I never knew the true power of the words, “I don’t know – what do you think?”

I never knew that milk does taste different depending on the colour of the cup you use.

I never knew that I could enjoy buying clothes for small children even more than for myself. Or that shopping for new socks could be an outing on its own.

I never knew how selfish I could be.

I never knew my heart could grow so big and yet always be so full.

I never knew the truth behind the phrase, “I might not like you right now, but I will always love you.”

I never knew that raising our family together would make me love and appreciate my husband even more.

I never knew how amazing giggles sound.

I never fully grasped how much my parents love me.

I never knew how flawed and imperfect I am.

I never knew, really and truly knew, how selfish I could be and yet how much I would be willing to give up for the sake of the four boys I call my own.

I never knew that having children would give me a clearer glimpse of just how much God loves me. Selfish, flawed, imperfect me.

I never knew. But I’m beginning to.

Merry Christmas – Go Back to Bed

“Mommy! MOMMY! MOM-EEE”

I half opened one eye to peer at the alarm clock. It read 6:30. SIX THIRTY?! We have a standing policy that you pretend to sleep until seven. In an effort to stop this early wake up from spreading, I staggered to the Littles’ room to see what was the matter.

“What!?” I growled, discovering my throat was a dry and sore.

“When’s it going to be morning? It’s taking sooo long,” said the four-year-old.

“Sooo long,” echoed Little.

“Not for thirty more minutes, you need to be quiet in your bed.”

As I turned to go back to my room I saw that Big’s light was on. Great, another one up early, just going to pretend I don’t notice.

I snuggled back into my still warm bed and try not to think of my to-do list. Less than ten minutes later:

“No, YOU stop it!”

“Stop it.”

“No, YOU stop it.”

I stomped in quiet rage back to the Littles.

Through gritted teeth I told the four-year-old, “Santa won’t be bringing you presents if you aren’t quiet now. It’s too early.”

“Kay,” replied Little.

Once again I snuggled in for just twenty more minutes. Moments later I heard the steps of Big creeping slowly to my side.

“Leave. Mommy. A. Lone.” whisper-yelled Bearded Husband (my hero).

Five minutes later Littles started bickering again, probably about who stole the toddler’s belly button this time.

My sweet husband, who knows I’m not a morning person, got up to face the day. That’s when Big returned and quietly said:

“Your clock is wrong, Mommy. Every other clock in the house says that it’s 7:45.”

This alarm clock radio is older than I am.

I am the proud owner of a plug-in alarm clock radio. To reset it you have to hold down multiple buttons. We’ve had a lot of power outages due to a recent ice storm. It flashes 12 until you fix it. Around midnight the night before, I changed the time. Turns out I set the alarm for the correct time, not the clock.

If anyone is looking for a last minute gift idea, I might be in the market for a battery operated bedside clock.