Mom's Par-tay!

(L-R) The kids having their gift exchange, the girls showing off their goodies, Noah chowing down Bountiful Beer Bread, Ken reading everykiddie a story (There's a Monster At The End Of This Book!), and Gina and Karla, hangin out and smiling pretty for the camera.

Well, our December Mom's group par-tay has come and gone today. It was a great
evening filled with lots of laughter, fantastic food, and beautiful belches.
Hm...let's retreat back to the Sesame Street days and sing a little song;

"One of these things is not like the others,

One of these things just doesn't belong.

Can you guess which thing is not like the others

By the time I finish this song?"

Yes, and now you have to guess. Shouldn't be hard, as it's the only gross one up there. Yep, the food was gross! BBQ pork, sinful potatoes, fruit, corn, veggies, tasty taquitos, pie and cookies. Ok, so the food was completely yummy, it was my beautiful belches that didn't quite belong! But it wasn't really my fault, REALLY!! Robin totally put me up to it by threatening me and saying; "I'll tell everyone what W.D. means!!" And she would! (don't know what W.D. means? great, just checking)

So the deal is: if I will belch, Greg will show us his dance. Yes, I said Greg. Oh, I forgot to mention, all the husbands came too, which made for a fun night for everyone, except me! I didn't have anyone to stand up for me so I was attacked, ATTACKED I tell ya!

Suddenly I'm not a "white-girl" anymore, I'm a "red-girl"! (fine, so it took me a minute to get the joke....leave me alone!). Which means these people had no mercy and I was beat red for about 10 minutes. I was worried that the secret origin of W.D. would come out and I would have to face the humility of being W.D. to more than just Karla and Robin, it would be to like, 5 whole people! Yikes!!

Then it came...the rumbly in my tumbly...I could feel it! I inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again and

"BBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRPPPP!!!!!"

Out it came. Much to my embarrassment, everyone looked shocked. Except for Karla and Robin of course. Sheesh, girls, where's the love?!?!? But fair's fair, right?

Because then we all got to watch Greg's "Stevie Wonder" dance, and suddenly, my burping talent didn't seem so awful!!!

Good News!!! Yipeee!!

Doesn't that just look like a good news face?!? That's the face of a little boy who just found out that his Daddy got the two days after Christmas off!!! That means he gets to spend Christmas day with us. He gets to indulge in the prime rib dinner, gets to open a few gifts, gets to take a little nap and rest up for leftovers, and gets so sit around the living room and visit with the family a little.

With everyone going out to Pearce this year, it's shaping up to be a wonderful, fun and laughter filled holiday, and now Helaman gets to enjoy it as well. I am so excited, and Helaman more than deserves it. We get to spend Christmas together as a family! Yipeeeeeeee!!!!!

A Shave And A Hair Cut.....

Well, I suppose I have learned a lesson here. I was just excited, that's all. About the rain, and the clouds, and

the cold weather that made it feel like we were in, oh, I don't
know....DECEMBER?!?!?!?!

Hmmm...maybe ya'll don't quite know what I'm talking about.

We got rain! And wind! And clouds! And the sun didn't shine for like, THREE whole days!! So rather than continue to water my plants with the hose, I thunk that I should put them out at the edge of the porch so they could be refreshed by the wonderfully cold falling rain water. I assumed they would be fine out there - after all, it's not like we have cows wandering around our neighborhood or anything. Sheesh. Then we decided to take a little trip out to see my parents for a couple days. We left Sunday afternoon and came back Tuesday afternoon. See the pristine condition of my sweet, green plants up there in the picture?

As I walked up on the porch, I noticed something different about my precious plants, something that caught my attention but also something so subtle that I didn't react at first. And then it hit me - there wasn't much left of them!

"Did it freeze while we were gone?" I turned and asked my hubby.

"It might have, but I'll bet that there is another reason for the dismembered look of your greenery."

Sure enough, there were the easy-to-read signs that proved that this was no freeze! This was the scene of a crime! The split-hoof indentations in the dust and the HAAA-UUUUUGE pile of crap in the center of our front yard both pointed to the guilty culprit - the cotton-picking COWS!!!!! See what happened to my precious plants? That I've raised from tiny, sick babies who were going to be thown into the dumpster and left for dead?!? Oh, those rotton cows who I used to think were cute and think how fun it was to live in an area so rural that the area is still open range and lots of space and plenty of room to roam and run around it.

Oh, boy, next time I see a cow, I'm gonna....well I'll um.....Well, you can bet your booty that I'll scare the monster away, that's what I'll do. With the horn of my car, or a loud party horn, or....something. Freakin' fartin' cows. I agree with Tanner.

Once Upon A Bubble...

There once was a cute boy named Noah

Who ate lots so he could up tall grow-a.

He would smile, hug, and laugh

Every time he was in the bath

He put on a funny bright show-a.

I just thought this was a cute picture. We are in Pearce, visiting my parents for a couple of days and Noah is just in heaven with Papa and all his tools and Nana with all her birds. My folks are building an aviary for all the birds they have rescued, so naturally, Noah is in the middle of everything, trying to help. While him and Helaman were outside looking at the beginning stages of the aviary, Helaman asked,

"Noah, what kind of tree is this?" (looking at a pine tree)

"I don't know." replied Noah.

"Yes you do!" said Helaman, "Doesn't it look like a Christmas tree?"

"No, Daddy" replied our super-smart 3-year-old, "It doesn't have any lights on it!!"

Here, Kitty Kitty Kitty

Well, my son is now 3. Yep...he's a big boy now. No more little boy stuff, or baby stuff. No more "Big squeeze, little squeeze". He's just tooooo big for some of those silly things. And yet, he seems to be growing into more things. Like his 4t pants! I mean, he just keeps getting taller and taller. Oh, and he has developed the most amazing imagination. You can sit on the floor and play with him and his Chevron cars for 2 hours. REALLY. Just making up stories, talking about life, driving around town, cruising down the strip, asking what your name is and coming up with a different a different name for each car every time.

And there's this funny thing about pretending to be a dog. With the tongue hangin' outa the mouth and wanting to eat on the floor and all that. He's a dog about 20% of his day right now. But right before lunch, he switches into "CAT" mode. There goes the other 59% of his day (he spends about 1% of his day being a little, ahem, I mean big boy).

So as you smile to yourself thinking of how cute it would be to see a 3 year old pretend to be a sweet kitty cat all morning or afternoon, let me show you a typical conversation with my 3 year old as we wake up in the morning:

"Hey, sweetie! How did you sleep?" I ask.
"Good, meow, good. Thank you meow."
"Are you ready to get up and eat breakfast?"
"Yes, meow. Meow would like meow milk in meow bowl on the floor, meow"
"Well, let's first go potty and we'll talk about the milk on the floor. C'mon, follow me into the bathroom."
"NOOOOO! KITTIES DON'T GO POTTY IN TOILETS!! KITTIES GO POTTY IN BOXES!!"
"Well, you are a little boy pretending to be a kitty, and little boys go pee-pee in the toilet."
"But I'm not a little boy, I a big boy." (assume the pouty-lip face)
"Ok. Sorry. You are a big boy, so let's go pee-pee in the potty like a big boy."

We tinkle, we wash our hands, we sit at the table to eat.

"Meow would like meow milk now please meow."
"Ok, and what would you like in your milk?"
"Meow kitty oatmeal please, meow."

After eating said oatmeal and I walk towards him with the washcloth.....

"NOOOOOO! KITTIES DON'T GET CLEANED UP! KITTIES LICK THEMSELVES LIKE THIS! I NO NEED TO BE WIPED!!"
"Yes, kitties lick themselves, but you are a big boy pretending to be a kitty and therefore must be wiped down after eating sticky oatmeal." (if I throw in a big word or two like that, he furrows his little forehead and thinks about this larger word which gives me 3 seconds of wipe-down time before he scampers off to his room)

2 minutes before I MUST (I will repeat MUST) be out the door to avoid the train, the little boy walking to the bus stop with his dog who is not leashed, the short bus that I WILL inevitably get stuck behind (lemme tell ya, those kids don't board too quick), so I can get to the fitness center to get Noah checked in and get my equipment set up before all the good spots and nice weights are taken so I don't have to stand up front, (breathe) I go into Noah's room to get him dressed.

"C'mon sweetie! Let's get dressed so we can go!" (as I enter, I see that my son is completely in the buck)
"NOOOOOO! MOMMA, KITTIES DON'T WEAR CLOTHES!! THEY DON'T WEAR CHONIES! THEY NO WEAR SHIRTS LIKE THIS! NO CLOTHES! KITTIES HAVE NO CLOTHES! OH, SHOES HURT MY KITTY FEET! OW, OW, OW!! I HAVE CLAWS LIKE THIS AND I NEED TO USE THEM TO WALK! NO SOCKS, NO SHOES, NO CHONIES!"
"Oh, I know a coupla kitties who I've seen wear clothes."
"Where? I want to see. Who wears clothes? Not MY kitties!"
"Nope. Not your kitties. But you are just a little boy pretending to be a kitty, so you must wear clothes so you don't get cold."

And thus starts the "little boy" discussion again.

As I start my aerobics class in the very front row, directly to the right of the intructor, in front of the mirrors, with the grimy weights that have the coating peeling off of them, I realize that there are worse things that my son could pretend to be. I just can't seem to think of one of them right now.

Three Year Old Technology

So recently, I've been getting up every morning and driving to the fitness center and working out. This means that I have to get Noah up, get him dressed, get him some grub, and get him in the car. On the way, we usually listen to his favorite songs from "Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat" from my iPod.

Well, this being the MONDAY after a 4-day weekend of endless stuffing of the face with numerous carcinogenic entrees and me eating every last drop of the sweet potatoes, I was not looking foward to going this morning and was falling behind as we got ready. When we finally got in the car and were on our way, Noah asked for "Go, go, go Joseph" and I told him we had forgotton my iPod. He was bummed, but we had a nice drive anyway.

After working out (and I was REALLLY sorry that I didn't do anything for 4 days), we got home and Helaman asked Noah about Church the day before.

"We sang, "I Am A Child Of God", he said.

"That's a nice song," Helaman replied, "May I hear it?"

"Nope, sorry Daddy." said Noah "I don't have my iPod".

Oh, To Have More Sweet Potatoes..

Well, the sad thing about Thanksgiving this year was that Helaman didn't get any time off. NONE. He had the Sunday before Thanksgiving off and then NEXT Wednesday after that off. Since we were suppossed to go to St. John's this year, it was especially disappointing for him. I was sad also, except I had one little consoling thought: I still get to have SWEET POTATOES!!

Oh, yeah.

That gooey, marshmellowy, (it is too a word!) sticky, cinnaminy, (see afore mentioned claim) goodness. And I got to eat all I wanted because, my friends, I made a BOAT-LOAD of them. Yummy. It was sad that we had to change our plans for the holiday, but who can feel sad around a huge vat of orange-goodness slash manna from Heaven?

I think my parents felt sorry for me when I called and said, "Well, I guess we'll just go out and buy a ready-made meal, because it stinks that we'll be alone and Helaman will get off of work, come home, eat, and go to bed. (Inhale, and SIGH)."
I think it was the sigh that broke her down. Or maybe it was my Dad...either way my parents came all the way out here and ate some grub with us, even though my Dad had to work on Fridat and they had to drive out here and back on the same day. Then my younger brother Michael found out we were having a shin-dig out here and I told him he was welcome to come. And he did! I had to go out a buy a 5 pound bag of potatoes when I found out he was coming, but it was soooo worth it! Sheesh, that boy can down some taters! We talked, we laughed, we played the PSP, we talked, we ate, we laughed.

All in all, it was a perfect day. Lots of food (ham AND turkey, by the way), lots of pie, lots of love. And though we are missing the Lambson side of the family, I couldn't have asked for a better Thanksgiving.

Yep...I Speak Spanish

As my husband is a tri-lingual speaker, we are developing the habit of speaking to Noah in English, Spanish, and Portuguese. He loves this and will often ask me if he can hear his favorite Spanish song or Portuguese song on the radio, or ask what an object is in Spanish. After we invited our neighbor Joey to Noah's party, they became good friends and they often walk down the road to pick him up to go play at their house. One evening when they came to pick Noah up, we were waving goodbye and Helaman said,
"Adios, son!"
To which Noah relplied, "Que via bien, Daddy."
Then looking up at Gina (Joey's Mom) he said, "Yeah, I speak Spanish".

C'mon! Just One!!

This is what I felt like doing to everyone who said to me, "Well, Dr. Pepper isn't that good for you anyway. You know, soda is bad for you."

GRRRRRRRRR!!!!! I KNOW THIS!!!

I just really, really, like Dr. Pepper. It's my most favoritist soda pop ever! And I know that it's better if I don't drink it, but I still like it for cryin' out loud.

Here's the thing that is soooo hard for me: Helaman was right. He's been after me to stop consuming the yummy bubble syrupy manna from Heaven for a few months now. But this is how he looks when he's right and I'm wrong. A little mis-construed, you say? Ha! I caught it on the camera, so it is totally and completely true!











And my step aerobics class is a whole lot easier if I don't drink any soda. Speaking of step aerobics, we have this wonderful (horrible) energetic (awful) hispanic step instructor who started playing this dance mix Latino music while we were warming up, and I started shaking my hips and playing around and my friend Karla, who was having a bad day, was just laughing at me dancing and said that she could never do that. So I told her she just had to make a really silly face in the mirror (taht line the ENTIRE wall) and then she nobody would be looking at her body, just her silly face. It took her about 10 minutes, but she did it and the entire class laughed and she laughed and it was great fun.

Er, not that working out was fun. Cuz it wasn't. Fun, I mean. Don't get me wrong, I still hate working out, but it WAS entertaining to get out of the house and have someone else watch Noah and to be silly with the other girls and get my heart pumping. But it was not fun. Really.....

Just A Tidbit...

Hello all,

Just thought I'd share a cute picture with you and let you know that

I.HATE.WORKING.OUT.

The above picture is what I would like to do after working out, which of course, I cannot do. Noah can pull it off though. Nice....

I don't hate very many things, and I don't hate a single person - well, there is one exception, but we all know who it is and I'm working on it, I really am.

So I don't throw this 4 letter word out for just anything, I mean, I detest things. I loathe things. I despise things. See, no 4 letter words. But I don't hate much. Except working out.

I.HATE.WORKING.OUT.

Just in case you didn't get it the first time.

A Little Tiny Adventure...

Ok, so most of the women reading this (all three of you) will understand me when I say, "HELLLOOOO?!?!?!? Where in the world did my body go?!?!?!?". You know, the body I had before I had my son? Yep, that one. Don't know where it went. But it still takes a serious health scare and one MEAN female doctor to get my booty out of bed and actually do something about it. So I did it: I signed up for the gym. The one where you have to get up @ 7 am and get your kid up and drive down and sign up and work out. Yep. For a measly $32 a month, I get a full access pass to every aerobics class offered, a full cardio room, weight room, heated pool, outdoor track, courts, and a huge jungle gym. Oh, plus a babysitter. That's actually the reason I joined.

So the first day, (Monday) I'm all ready to go and I show up, and see someone I know - Karla from the mom's group. Sweet!! I know someone! Then Robin shows up - another familiar face! Yeah!! And Robin says that she tripped over the step last time and made the instructer mess up and left the room 3 times so I can't possible do anything more embarrassing than that, right? Lest we forget, we are talking about Sarah here. Yep, just a reminder.

I know I've never worked out before but I was trying to keep up with the instructer and the 80 year old ladies in the back and "who needs a water break", and "I can do this for just a minute more" and "wow this is so much harder than it looks", and "sheesh, my back is sweaty", and "ok, I think I could use a water break", and "I'll just bend down to pick up my bottle", and huh......"this floor smells clean" and "look at all the fuzzy faces".

Oh yes, people (all three of you who I absolutely adore for reading this and calling me to laugh at me)

I

PASSED

OUT.

While trying my hardest to not look like a dork in front of everybody in the class by trying to keep up and not taking water breaks, I ended up looking like the biggest dork in front of everybody in the class while lying smack dab in the middle of the doorway on the floor. One of the amazingly fit older ladies wanted to call 911, but Robin, a former EMT, convinced them that I was not about to die, I was just a dork.

25 minutes, a lot of ice cold paper towels, and a yummy gatorade later, I was on my feet and answering horrifying questions like:

"Did you eat breakfast?" (um, nope)
"Did you drink lots of water before you started?" (Hmmmmm...nope)
"Have you ever taken step before?" (heck no!)
"Do you have any health issues?" (Well, what other reason would I have for getting up when the sun rises and coming out here and paying money to have someone tell me what to do and get all sore for it?)

And so ends my first day of working out. Or passing out. I think I'll make a list of WHAT NOT TO DO when beginning an excercise regimen and post it on the door of the club. But hey, I got a free gatorade.

Love, True Love

Well, I had the mavelous opportunity to go to Tucson all day Monday to visit various doctors and run a few errands while my Aunt Dee Dee watched Noah (I think she is still recovering from that day). You know when you have new doctors and you have to fill out all the new paperwork and they have to ask you all the new questions about you and your life and your parents' lives and why you have a brown dog instead of a white one.

Well, as the doctor is asking about my family's health history, she askes, "Where does your mother live?"
"Well, it's a town out by Willcox." I replied.
"And your father? Where does he live."
"Um, in the same town as my mother." I say, perplexed.
"Oh," she says, suprised. "They live in the same town?"
"Well," I explain, "They kind of live in the same HOUSE."
"What? Wait...your parents are still married?" seemingly shocked.
"Yep"
"Are they both your parents? No step or half parent?"
"Uh...yep..Uh...nope" (I'm quite articulate, I know)
"How long have they been married?" She askes, incredulous
"Well, I thing it's been about 31 or 32 years. Their anniversary was in June"
"Did they have more kids? (yep, 2 younger boys). Are they stll at home? (nope, all moved out). And they are STILL married? (yep)"
"Huh." She replied, very officially-doctorly-like.
"Is that weird?" I ask.
"Oh, no. Not weird, just...unusual"


That afternoon, I was going through the same questions with the second doctor who asked:
"And your parents, what was their marriage like?" (notice the past tense)
"Um, good I guess."
"And where do they live now?"
"In a town by Willcox in the same house." I say
"So.....they're still married? (yep) And they are both your biological parents? (yep) And do they seem to like being married to each other? (well sure! I don't suppose they'd hang around each other if they weren't!)

Another modern-day medical personnel shocked. I'm loving it, and loving the fact that I never had to deal with the split vacations or the split holidays or the "he-said, she-said" (we get enough of that from outside influences!). I know that marriages like this are rare, but I have been soooo blessed to be surrounded by these types of relationships; my mom's sister and brothers are all still married to the person they had children as are my dad's two brothers. I guess I just kinda took it for granted, but I have to admit, it's very, very nice to not be a part of that niche.

La-Tee-Dah-Tee, We Likes To Pahty!

Well, this has been quite a busy Saturday for our little family. I had to run to W@lm@rt this morning to grab a last minute gift for a birthday party we were going to (yes, I suppose I was suffering from a brief, oh who am I kidding, PERMANENT bout of insanity to go W@lm@rt in Nogales on a Saturday with my almost 3 year old), then to a great huge BP hoopla from noon to 3:30 and from there we headed to 2-year-old Manuelito's birthday party.

The BP barbeque was nice: burgers, (some with cheese, some without), hot dogs, brats, a small fly infested salad, some pasta salad, lots of cookies and soda pop. Some kids got to break this itty-bitty pinata and grab a coupla suckers and run around with them while their parents yelled at them to stop. Since it was at the park just down the street from us, Noah got to play on the equipment for a few minutes and then we had to go to the birthday party.

Soooo...on our way to Lito's house (He is the 4th Manuel, so they call him Manuelito, Lito for short), we see this huge air filled bouncy thing in their yard, like the ones you see at the fair. That was just the beginning! We walked in and Lito's dad says he's glad that we could make it and he'd have someone bring us a plate of food. Since we had just eaten, we asked for a small amount and went to sit down. While Noah booked it to to the bouncy thing, we were brought a plate full of the most tender beef I have ever eaten, beans, potato salad, pasta salad, rice and a tortilla. Then we were offered any drink we wanted as well. As I shared as much of my plate of food with Noah and my friend Brenda as I could and listened to some kickin' Mexican jams, I couldn't help but notice a HUGE-MANTIC Lighting McQueen pinata sitting on the back porch. It must have been 4 feet long and so stuffed with candy that Helaman could hardly pick it up. We commented on it and he said the he (of course) got it in Mexico and since they were so cheap, he bought 3 instead of 1. Thinking that he was going put the other two away for another time, I asked where he was going to store them.

"Store them?" He asked, perplexed. "We stuffed them!"

So we had the jams, the friends, the food, the candy, the fun, and then...the dessert. Lito's mom told me to go into his room and check out the cakes. Yep, cakes. Plural. So I go to check them out. And there are these two giant cakes (full sheets), one with a penguin on it and another with a little Mexican girl on it.

"The first one is banana cream custard, and the second one is strawberry cream custard." She told me.

My mouth started to water.

So, while I got to carry on competely adult (ahem...I mean grown up) conversations (Noah would not come out of the bouncy thing), and listen to fun music and eat fantastic food and watch all the kids swing for their little lives at the scary paper mache creatures, I realized something...

DANG!!! These people know how to PAR-TAY!!!!

Boys and Men

So we have the new mac, right? And it has all these really awesome features, right? (As you have no doubt seen with the photo booth pics I have been posting) Wanna hear about the next cheesy yet cool feature of the Macs? They have this really cool voice recognition application that you can set to the specific tones of your voice and you can make commands with a kind of "hands free" option. Well, needless to say, Helaman started working this whole thing out in about oh, 2 minutes and he was able to say things like, "Close this application" and it would. Then he would ask, "What time is it?" and the female voice of the computer (you can set it to man or woman) would say, "It's one o'clock".

Well, this was really fun until he found that he could set a "word-prompt" to say before each command, so the computer wouldn't just close an application if you were talking about it. I was thinking a good prompt would be "hey" or "please" because it would be easy to remember. Oh, well for cryin' out loud, that just didn't happen because I'm married to HELAMAN and he is who he is. You wanna know what word he chose as a prompt?!? WOMAN. Really. Like, "Woman, get over here and do the dishes!" or, "Woman, get over here and rub my feet!".

Now, I am a very independent woman and I don't like to let anyone push me around, and I thought, "Maybe he just needs to tell SOMEONE what to do" so I let it slide. It was kind of fun to say "Woman! Tell me a joke" and hear the computer woman's voice say "Knock,Knock" to us. Well, little did I know that our silly commands would come around in a funny way to bite me in the rear-end.

While Noah and I were shopping in W@l-M@rt (which I would totally avoid if there was a Target within 50 miles), on Monday I was in the aisle next to the cheese when I hear Noah mumble something that didn't sound very appropriate.
"What did you say, Mr. Bentley?"
"Woman!" he replied, "Let's go!"
"What?!?!?" I answered, shocked.
"Now you say, go where?" he said.
"Go where?" I replied, wondering where this could lead.
"Woman, go get me some cheese!" he stated.

Now, I tried to calmly explain to him that the word "woman" was only to be used when talking to the computer, not to Momma. But while I was letting him know that it was disrespectful when to me in that manner, I happened to glance over and see a small group of grown Mexican men, laughing hysterically and pointing to my son. As we know, the Mexican culture isn't exactly known for how they hold doors open for the female counter-parts in their society and I can only imagine that they thought this little red-headed American boy was right on track.

I think I'm going to have to change the word-prompt to "Sweetheart".

Our Family Grew By FOUR Feet....

Well, when you are cute, single, female missionaries always dressed up out in the ghetto, things can get a little creepy at night. Sooooo creepy that you might call your Mission President, and tell him that you have been STONGLY promted to leave your home immediately (after some creepy-heeby-jeeby guy has been callin' all hours and finally asked the question: "Are you home right now?").

When you return home the next day, you might be feeling a little silly - but not silly enough to stay another night in the heeby-jeeby house, so you go stay with a nice member in Rio Rico who happens to have a spare room available for a week. Or three. Whatever.

And that's how these beautiful missionaries came to be in our home and how they are able to study all the time and feel the Spirit and never goof off and make funny faces with our mac or cook instant cakes in the microwave at 10:30 pm, or sit around on P-day and clip coupons and eat junk food.

And so, life goes on as usual in the Lambson household....or unusual...Whatever

Out Of The Stone Age..

And into the light!!! Wow, it seems very silly to be this excited about having internet, but sheesh....I really missed it. Since I haven't posted since June, I thought I'd just let anyone (if there is anyone left out there who still checks this page), ask what they want about what we are up to and I'll just write a little blog and tell ya!

Sooo....We live outside of Nogales, Az in a little place called Rio Rico and we are doing very well. Busy, but doing well. Helaman passed his last test in August, which was a HUGE relief and helped alieviate some of the pressure he was feeling about losing his job. He'll be on probation for another year, but as long as he doesn't do anything EXTREMELY dumb, we'll be set for the next 15 years or so. He is working the night shift, so he gets to go to work at 12 am and get home at 10 am. We don't mind it so much because he gets to spend some time with us all morning, have a big lunch with us, then he hits the hay till 10 pm. It seems to work well.

Noah is doing well also, and he will be turning 3 on October 25. He is very excited about it and has been telling everyone about it for about 3 months (since my birthday). He can count to 20 (though he always seems to miss 14 and 18) and is very proud that he can write his name now ( I know it's short and easy, but he's pretty proud of it nevertheless). We are having a few issues with him "pushing buttons", especially when Daddy gets home, but he's just acting like a normal almost 3 year old, so we just have to deal with this stage of toddler-hood.

I, Sarah in the flesh (Well, I guess not really in the flesh, but you get what I mean), am doing ok as well. Hoping that things will just go well during the course of every day. We have the Sister Missionaries staying with us for what looks like a couple more weeks, and they are the greatest company ever!! They make me laugh and one of them is a music junkie so she has shared a couple of awesome singers/bands with me. She's also a showtunes guru (she played the Narrator in Joseph and The Technicolor Dreamcoat and loves all musicals), which is just AWESOME as well.

So, as this day fades off of the clock and the next day technically begins, I must bid ya'll farewell until the next time that everyone is asleep and I can sit and type in peace. Thanks so much fer yer visits, I'm much abliged.

Helaman and "The Test"

Hello friends, family, co-horts, and anyone else who's sanity I question because you choose to entertain yourself by checking out this blog. Yep, check out this pic. It's Elmo, the Cherry-Headed Conure, picking the remanents of lunch out of Helaman's teeth. Sheesh, these two should be in the circus!

As you probably know, Helaman has been hired by the USPB and has been stationed in Nogales, AZ. He passed the academy (which made the other academy look like a complete joke) but once he was stationed, he has to work hard at the post-academy. He has to memorize every road, street, lane, hill, canyon, stream, and landmark from Nogales to Green Valley, and he doesn't have very much time to do it. He also had to take a 7-month exam to see how well he remembered what he learned duing training. This is just a test on the law part of his job, but if he didn't pass, he didn't have a job with the BP any longer. Just wanted to let everybody know that HE PASSED this morning with an 86%!!!! He has to take the spanish part on Wednesday, June 13th, but he doesn't seem to be as worried about that one. ; )

Helaman has been working and studying very hard for the past 3 months and we've really missed doing family things together. He gets up at 6 a.m., leaves by 7 am, gets home around 7:30 pm, eats, showers, studies, and sleeps. The weekends are filled with honey-do's around the house and more studying, so passing this test is a welcome reward for his hard work. The sad thing is that he still has to take another test for his 10-month exam (in October), which, if he does not pass, he will not have a job either. After that, NO MORE STUDYING and he will be able to take some time off.

We are doing well in our new home and can't wait for some of you to see it. We just got the back area fenced in as a temporary barrier for the dogs and Noah, and that has helped so much with the little bit of cabin fever Noah and I were suffering from.

Our ward consists of an English ward combined with a Spanish branch, so we have such a wonderful mix of awesome people. I'm a primary teacher for the Valiant 9 & 10 and Helaman is a teacher over the 12-16 year old boys (don't know what that's called) and we are loving it! The ward is a very warm and loving one with lots of hugs and kisses on the cheeks for greetings. Overall, we are so happy here and just trying to adjust to our new digs. I would love to keep in contact a little more about our cute family, but we just aren't there yet, so stay tuned for the next instalment of Livin' Life With The Lambsons

Don't know when I'll be able to update next, so I will leave you with the newest Noah-dote:

Mama: "Noah, honey, you have your flip-flops on the wrong feet!"

Noah replies after a moments' hesitation and a perplexed look on his little face:

"But Mama, these the only feets I have!"

Oh!! Here I Am!! Look At Me!!

Hello! I am totally still alive and breathing and don't have any broken limbs or fingers or anything! I have been one of the sadest, pathetic creatures without my link to the outside world through my computer. So I think to myself, "Hey Self!! Just get your boooooo-tay down to the local library and check your mail there and maybe (just maybe) you can give a little update to all the peeps who have stayed true and loyal *sniff* yo, love you guys!! Anyway, I get down there all excited to check out the world outside of Nogales and I get to sign in and give my DL and blah blah blah. But when I click on the internet part, it takes like 20 seconds to connect. What? You don't think that's very long, huh? Try it. Ya! Try it right now. Count all the way to twenty - with the one-thousands in between people - and tell me that sitting in front of a computer screen and waiting for a yahoo home page to appear picture by picture isn't a little aggrivating.

OH yes. Our library has dial up. DIAL UP??? What the freak? Who is running this show? I mean really...c'mon...DIAL UP? I look around for the little camera because, hello? Dial up? For reals?

It took me 15 minutes to check my one message and write back. I couldn't surf and check out the happenin's and cruise to my blog and let ya'll know that I'm just jottin' down all the AWESOME things that are happening that would make the cutest blog entries but will be totally meaningless in 4 months when we get connected to the world again. Oh well, I'm here now and will write a nice, long, informative letter about the happenings in Southern AZ and Helaman in the BP while I am visiting with the folks. Thanks for checking to see if we're still here!! You make me feel soooooo special!

A Few Nice Things About Owning Your Home...

Alright, alright, already. Here are a few pics of the new place, though Helaman took them and, well, you just have to work with what 'cha got. There's a lovely pic of the front, then of Noah's partially painted room, then the guest bathroom (showing the toilet seat the He-Man left up), then the dark kitchen, then the bright kitchen. That's it. Our cute little home. I love it. It's mine! Um..well technically ours, but MINE all the same.

It's nice to be able to paint your own home whichever color you so choose from the mulit-million blobs of color you have to choose from. It's nice to paint half the wall and decide that this particular shade of brown looks like a burrito on the wrong end of a diaper, so I just haphazardly painted my name, looped in a couple of smiley faces, and slid in a poem. Then painted over it!! Fun stuff.

It's nice to load a dishwasher so wrong that not even one piece of silverware comes out clean. Oh, but it was fun to load!! Oops, I'll get it right someday.

It's nice to turn the thermostat to 60 degrees at night and not have to start a fire with the pellets or worry about Noah getting them and putting them in his mouth or putting his race car in the hopper or anything like that. It just turns on, and this wonderful, warm air comes streaming out of the vents. Nice.

It's nice to sleep on an air mattress on the carpeted floor of the concrete that's been laid on the land that we own. I like to go outside and play in the sand that sits in the front yard that belongs to my husband and I. The sand that he's worked so hard for. We have this teeny little home that sits on a bare lot on a dirt road. And it feels so right to walk in that front door and know that we've worked hard and sacrificed for this, and it's finally one of our little dreams coming true. Oh, it's nice.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!

Well, here it is...4 years married and we still like each other. It pretty easy to do since he's over 8 hours away. My parents took me out to dinner tonight to celebrate cuz they probably knew I'd just sit at home, eat cereal for dinner and feel sorry for myself all night long. The lady at the resturant gave me a free fried ice-cream, and I must admit, it was kinda nice not to have to share it. Heeee heeee.

I love ya babe, and miss you more than I thought I ever would.

I like to pride myself (just a little, though) on my independence. I like to do things myself, fix the things I can by myself, work out problems on my own, and just generally do the things I can because I know I can. This was one of the biggest problems for us when we first got married; letting Helaman do stuff! Open the doors, help with dishes (ha, I bet he's regretting that move!), lift stuff, and just generally do stuff for me. So for me, I thought I could do this 4 month stint without a hitch. And I did. The first month was almost fun. Then the second month was cold and lonely and cold. Then the third month was cold, lonely, cold, and busy. Noah is ready for his Daddy to come home and so am I. I guess I am not the complete super-woman I would like to think I am and that's very hard for me to admit, especially to Helaman. Cuz, hello? My pride? It might get a chip knocked out of it or something. I'm not a sissy, but I have to admit; I need my husband. He is wonderful. He is perfect for me, and I for him.

Happy Anniversary Babe. I love ya and miss you more than I ever thought I could.

Oh, Kids Are Cute!

Yep. For you Lambsons that check out this site (all both of you, including Helaman), you will recognize this outfit. It was fashioned by Claire Lambson for one Carrol Lambson about, oh....humna humna years ago. Ok, at least 30. We'll just leave it at that. I cannot believe that it now fits my little boy. The little boy who randomly gives me "big hugs, baby hugs" between running his tractor and pushing his motorcycle. The little boy who will someday be a man just like his daddy, at least I hope he will be like his daddy. The little boy who cries out for me in the night for a "dwink of nice, cold water, please", and who waves to EVERYONE in the stores and says "hi" to every weird, creepy, drunk guy who stands behind us in Walmart and lights up that toothless face.
The little boy who months after seeing his cousins in St. Johns for Christmas still asks what Baby Anna is doing and what his "nice" cousin Taylor is wearing. My sweet boy who says to anyone who wants to get him something to eat "No, thank you. Momma do it". Who loves to play with dinasaurs. Who thinks Maisy is the best show ever. Who doesn't like brussel sprouts, but will eat them if I tell him he will grow muscles like his daddy. Who always wants "a yittle drink of your soda pop...I yike soda pop". The little sweet heart who loves to play "faces" with me in the mirror; happy face : ) sad face : ( mad face >: ( and suprised face <: 0 (his favorite). Who loves to go on long walks with his Momma while clinging tightly to my pointer finger and talking to me about everything that is within his sight until all the "twinkle twinkle stars" come out and we can sing to them. Who absolutely loves to sing the song "Follow The Prophet" because it has a catchy tune (and his name in in of course).
This sweet, home-made suit fits one little boy who will one day grow to be a huge eater, a teenager, maybe a football lover, a man devoted to our religion and our family, maybe a music lover, or a number cruncher. The possibilities are truly endless. Hopefully he will have the strength to follow the footsteps of his Daddy and his uncles; to be an amazing man.

Noah's Hand

I don't know if ya'll know it, but our home is constructed of 12-inch-thick adobe (mud and straw) home that has been covered in stucco and lived in for 100 years. We have beautiful wood floors, huge closets and bathroom, and large wonderful windows with deep sills to sit and admire the view. Well, it's also cold! REALLY cold, and the sun has been shining and it's been warm outside for two days and I STILL have to wear a sweatshirt inside. So today, I decide to open all the huge windows to let the warm air in. The windows, being 100 years old, are large and heavey and are pushed up and held open by weights built into the INSIDE of the window frame. Some of the rope holding these weights has frayed and broken over the years so we use a 1 x 2 to hold the windows up. Noah was looking outside at the birds flying around and grabbed the piece of wood holding up the 30 pound window and it came crashing down on his pudgy little 2-year-old hand.

The local clinic's "system" is down so they couldn't read any x-rays, and they only had stiches (no glue) so I had to drive 45 minutes to the ER in Willcox. After being ignored and trying to keep Noah occupied for 55 minutes, I told the "lady" sitting behind the counter that I was sent to have my son's thumb stitched and have x-rays taken - could I possible have his thumb stitched while I waited to get in to radiology?

15 minutes later, they bring us it, look at his hand and ask me if this is the only reason I brought him in. They look at me like I'm an over-protective mom when I tell them what happened. They laugh when the walk around the sound-proof barrier of the flimsy fabric curtain that seperates me from the man with the UTI and say "This is pathetic! Throw some glue on there and let's get to work!".

"Look", I said oh so nicely, "It's not like some little window with thin glass hit his little thumb and knuckles! A 3 FOOT by 4 FOOT window filled with antique glass and bordered by 2 x 4 chunks of wood FELL on my son's hand. I think it needs to be looked at". Somehow, the sound-proof barrier must have prevented them from hearing my rant because I got 2 drops of super-glue and a discharge paper. No x-rays, no stitches. All for the co-pay price of $100 + gas. The glue popped off while at Pizza Hut and Noah got spaghetti sauce in his gaping wound and I had to go back with a tired, hungry, now screaming child to try to get this little wound taken care of. I am told to wait in the waiting room and go through the ER system again. They put a piece of tape on his thumb. Still no x-rays. It's been a long day. 11 am to 4:30 pm. I'm going to have to sit in about 9,657,823,194 hours of sunshine to get out of this rut and I just want to go to bed.

The good news - there's always good news - Noah's hand is not broken, only possibly fractured, which might lead to an infection which could lead to him going on antibiotics and maybe a resetting of the fracture. And, naturally, another trip to the hospital. In another city of course.

A Silly Little Thing...

Sometimes the silliest things can just make me giggle. Or outright laugh. Or chuckle a little and then giggle about them every time I think of whatever it is whenever I think of it. So today, I had to make a stop accross the street to talk to our neighbor, Patty. I got Noah out of his seat and as we walked up to the front of her home, Noah said, "Yook, Momma! A wagon!"
"Yep, it sure is." I replied
"Is it Patty's wagon?" he asked
"Yes sweetheart."
"Oh"
Then a thoughtful look on his face and
"It a Patty-Wagon?"
Ha, ha!! I started laughing so hard that I had to stop walking and say to myself, "A wagon. Patty's wagon. A patty-wagon. Oh, this kid is witty, and he's only 2!!!!"
Hee, hee. Yep, I'm still giggling. I told Patty and she laughed. I'm sure she'll giggle next time she thinks about it too. A patty-wagon. Sheesh, that's funny! C'mon! Laugh! You know you want too...

More CRAZINESS From The AZ Lambsons...

Well hello again folks and thanks for visiting us here toay, as we deceptively spin yarns a-plenty and tell the truth sometimes.

Today, just for fun, we will be telling mostly the truth. Like the fact that we got another dog. Really. Here she is - her name is Shatzie. It's a German term for "endearment". Cute, huh? And she loves the kids and the kids love her, and everybody gets along. Except for the birds. The dog wants to eat them and they are having a hard time adjusting to that. But, all in all, everybody is getting along just fine.

She is a Jack Russell Terrier mix and has lots of energy. She was also at the pound, so she has lots of issues too. Like she must.be.by.my.side.at.all.times. I lovingly refer to her as my "velcro dog" or my "clingon" (but not in public). So when I take her out to go potty, I have to wait on the front porch and she will "do her business" as long as I'm within her field of vision. Sweet, isn't it.....

So this evening I take the two dogs out and they do their thing and I can totally tell that it's going to snow. The wind, the dark clouds hanging down, the smell in the air. I can't wait for it to snow. Fast foward past dinner, bath, pj's, stories, prayers, songs, bed, and you will see me out on the porch yet again. But this time, there is snow falling and on the ground. AGAIN! SNOW IN SOUTHERN ARIZONA. And this is the truth too! Honest! (picuctures to follow). It's deep enough for me to go out and run in and leave tracks behind me! Thinking back to both times it's snowed where I live, I think (just so ya know, you're entering dangerous waters here) "Gee, I bet I could make a snow angel with snow this deep!". Yep, it was about 1/4 of an inch thick, so I plop down, flap my arms and legs coupla times and voila! There is a masterpiece! The dogs are done so we run inside and I take off my hat and jacket. There, sticking to the back of my jacket is the "business" that Shatzie had done earlier. What a crappy way to end the day.....

Yet ANOTHER Thing I Can't Yell At My Husband About...

I turned on the little space heater in the bathroom at 11 a.m. this morning in order to heat the room sufficiently to take a shower and shave my legs without scraping all the goosebumps off along with the hair by this evening. I entered the *grin* WARM room and turned on the water so it, too, would be *big grin* WARM so I would eventually get *full, ear-to-ear, Cheshire Cat smile goin' on here* WARM. But when I turned the handle on the faucet, I realized that someone forgot to turn off the shower head from the last visit to WARM fairy land and I was covered in a spray of icy cold darts of coldness and it was COLD darn it! Really cold. And I was mad and I almost cursed! But who is there to hear my rantings and ravings? AND, by golly, who is to blame? Only me. Poor, pathetic, cold, lonely me. Hurry Home Gila Man!!

It Actually Happened!!

It really, really happened! We are home owners!! I'm not a renter! I can check the "own" box whenever I fill out a questionare...if I ever have the time to do such mundane things ever again. Because I'm a home-owner now and am waaaaay to busy to do petty things such as fill out questionares and silly stuff like that. Oh, why am I soooo excited? Let me illuminate:

Reason #1: It will be a warm house. It will have heat. In every room. All winter long. I will not have to buy propane and switch out bottles when the wind is blowing sleet down my jacket right before I'm suppossed to have dinner on the table but I can't cook because, the propane tank? It's empty. Oh, and no more pellets to haul.

Reason #2: I will have a double sink in the kitchen. Something I don't have now. Just a single, shallow sink.

Reason #3: I think the place might be warm....

Reason #4: I will have a garbage disposal. I will not have to fish out slimy pasta, mushy vegetables, or yucky chunks of meat out of the drain. The sink will eat such nasties.

Reason #5: I will have a dishwasher. One that washes the dishes and sanitizes them and makes them all clean. Even if the dog licks it...it will be clean.

Reason#6: It's really really cute!!

Reason #7: I will walk to the wall, push the "up" arrow button, and there will be a miraculous phenomenon which will occur somewhere inside the wall (I like to refer to it as "Fairy Land" ) and WARM air will come out of vents placed in various points in the home. Like the bedroom. Even, though hard to believe, in the bathroom *gasp*. It's true! I've seen it happen. I will make it happen. And I will be happy.

It's really, really gonna happen tomorrow...

Well, after countless rewrites, fixes, and 2-hour drives to what is going to be our new home, it's actually going to happen. Tomorrow morning between 10 and 11 am, I am going to hold the keys to our new home in my hand. And I will drive there, and I will ring the doorbell for the first time and unlock the door for the first time and go inside for the first time and know with complete, um, knowledge that I will be the very first person to sit and tinkle on that toilet. Yes, I think I could even brave the unthinkable: talking on my cell phone while sitting on the potty. OH, YES! That's what I said. Not scared. Not yucky. It's going to be a great day tomorrow, I can just feel it. New day, new house...oh yeah.

It's really, really gonna happen tomorrow...

Well, after countless rewrites, fixes, and 2-hour drives to what is going to be our new home, it's actually going to happen. Tomorrow morning between 10 and 11 am, I am going to hold the keys to our new home in my hand. And I will drive there, and I will ring the doorbell for the first time and unlock the door for the first time and go inside for the first time and know with complete, um, knowledge that I will be the very first person to sit and tinkle on that toilet. Yes, I think I could even brave the unthinkable: talking on my cell phone while sitting on the potty. OH, YES! That's what I said. Not scared. Not yucky. It's going to be a great day tomorrow, I can just feel it. New day, new house...oh yeah.

A Few Things That I Can't Yell At My Husband For... Volume 1

Alright...so I can yell, but it won't do any good. I just scare the animals. And this face of his? It keeps the bears away from our camp site. Oh, and I know that it's been eons since I have blogged, and trust me, I'm working on repenting, but I have been busy here. REALLY busy. The single parent lifestyle stinks. Big time. And literaly too. Let me explain....

*Woke up early this morning - big day today!! I'm on the ball! We get to do the walk-thru and home inspection on what is going to be our NEW HOME!!! Yipeee! I walked in the kitchen and, "What the freak?" something stunk. The combination of stinky diapers, old brown banana peels and yucky leftovers was oozing out from under the lid of the seemingly innocent white trash can lid. (switch to internal dialogue) Oh...I guess that's my job now too...(at least Helaman could have set up 4 or 5 trash cans so I wouldn't have to take the trash out every week...man...what a bum...can't really expect Noah to do it...at least not for another week or two. Sheesh, it smells. Does it always smell like this? Where do I put the bag of trash? Where are the new trash bags? Oh, I forgot I put the pizza boxes behind there...Ewwwwwwwwwwww! Is that what week-old pizza looks like?!? Wow....cool color....hmmmm... (end internal dialogue...it could get very scary very quickly). In the end, I had nobody to blame for leaving all that crap all over and around the trash can area. I did the adult thing - don't get me wrong, I can totally step up to the plate and run this household and keep it clean and all that jazz. Sheesh, people, give me some credit! I'm an adult...I did what most adults in my situation would do: I took the trash can, pizza boxes, plastic bags, and other misc. mumbo out on the back porch, so I wouldn't have to smell it. What? Don't worry! I closed both screen doors so no critters could get to it. I told ya...I'm on the ball!

*After coming home from a completely exhausting day of driving forever to our new home with a 3 year old (Mikey not Noah), going over the home inspection, doing the walk though, sitting in an office to see if we can sign, finding out we cannot (oh, yes...I was angry), going from business to business to get various utilities set up and paying out the Wazoo for it, cursing myself for wearing very cute but very uncomfortable shoes while walking in Home Depot to look for paint...blah blah blah.....cut to getting home after 8 p.m. and getting Mr. "I'm Not Tired, I'm Awake! See My Eyes Momma?" to bed. Finally kicking of aforementioned cur-sed shoes and sitting down to tinkle on the potty. Just sitting was nice. And then I saw it. The empty roll. You know, the one with 2 little transparent sheets simply setting there on that cardboard "OH!!!!" I yelled, "THIS IS IT! HOW CAN THIS DAY GET WORSE?!?!???". And then I realized...there's nobody here to blame. Noboby here to care. Nobody except the two year old who heard my voice and loudly proclaimed, "I AWAKE, MOMMA! SEE MY EYES?". Normally, I murmer about the man who is always leaving the roll with one sheet on it. Yet, how can one murmer about someone who has not occupied this space for 5 freakin' weeks? Sheesh, you'd think I'd be used to it now. But getting used to having nobody to blame for stuff that doesn't get done around here? That's a hard thing to do.