We have a biter in the house!

"she bit me"

Biting is a stage that most of our kids have gone through. I noticed that they only do it out of frustration or excitement. The only way I have found to avoid it is to leave the kid alone and flick their mouth when they offend.

Our current two year old, obviously, isn't the first and most likely won't be the last but he is currently in the biting stage and it is leaving some marks!

For example, here is our third son's war wound:

Look close, you can see the out line

Here's the real doozy though, my mole massager, apparently, stole his bottle and he retaliated! Check out the evidence that he left behind:

Poor girl still has some slight bruising and it has been more than a week since the incident occurred, but I bet you won't try to steal his bottle anytime soon!

House Rules

As you can imagine having nine kids can make for a crazy and sometimes chaotic house. At times this has been a great source of stress for me.

I HATE rules. I have never been very good at following them let alone setting them but something had to change and it had to change fast!

Three words, one name: Leroy Jethro Gibbs

I have watched just about every episode of every season made of NCIS, with exception to the last season. If I got to choose a TV career it would be an NCIS agent working with Special Agent Gibbs. I mean look at this guy, who wouldn't want to work with him?

Gibbs is infamous for his list of rules. I don't know how many he has but I did find a few printed, check it out:

I abide by rule no. 9 and totally failed at rule no. 13 (I am married to one so not involving him in my daily activities isn't an option)

In my search for peace and harmony in our house I decided we needed some rules and not just any rules but rules that would work. So, I assessed the key problems and came up with the first rule:

Rule no. 1: NO TOUCHING! 

It was inspired by the little pokes and jabs that seemingly went unnoticed but solicited quite the reaction from the victim. It has worked beautifully, when one starts to touch the other all I have to do is yell, "rule no 1!" and the perp immediately ceases and desists their criminal activities. I feel like a genius!

Rule no. 2: NO TALKING! 

In my excitement to bring more peace and harmony I hurriedly looked for other ways to achieve that but the noise was distracting and then it hit me, no talking! So, the birth of my second rule. 

Rule no. 3: NO LICKING!

This one was inspired by my little mole masseuse. Many members of our family have been assaulted by her "kitty cat" identity and to be honest it was disgusting to most of us, myself included, so I felt obligated to protect the rest of the clan from the "licking toddler".

Rules no 4 and 5 get lost and forgotten, some argue that one is no punching and no one really knows what the other one is so we moved on and now I am introducing . . . 

Rule no, 6: NO TOOTING DURING FAMILY PRAYER: IT CAN BE DISTRACTING!

A long title, I know but none the less necessary. You can imagine in a family our size it doesn't take much to distract and I don't feel like my husband and I are asking too much for two minutes of silence and cooperation twice a day to give thanks to our Creator, but sometimes in those quiet moments with knees to the floor and bums in the air little biscuits get squeezed out and it can cause an avalanche of laughter that there is no recovering from, I'm not just talking about the kids, this stuff cracks me up for some reason. So, I have enacted Rule no. 6. So far I am pleased to report we haven't had an offender in the 24 hrs it has existed, we'll see how long that lasts.

Chocolate Milk

When I was pregnant with my first baby I couldn't get enough chocolate milk. We literally went through five gallons of milk a month and there were only two of us!

Then one day someone introduced me to a brown cow, what's that you ask? Why, it is a glass of chocolate milk with a few scoops of vanilla ice cream, the most amazing thing you will have in your mouth, I promise! I thought my life was complete, until I learned about the most amazing chocolate milk:

Reed's dairy chocolate milk. I promise, you haven't had amazing chocolate milk until you have Reed's. It is made locally and is seriously the most delicious chocolate milk known to man. Unfortunately, it is priced out of my budget and so we don't buy it very often. In fact, we buy it so infrequently that when I went to have my last baby my midwife brought me a 1/2 gallon as a reward for refraining during my last pregnancy!

I made an exception and picked some up Friday night to have at breakfast Saturday morning. (I bought the generic brand milk chocolate for the kids informing them that Reed's chocolate milk was not for general consumption)

Here is a copy of my text exchange with my midwife:

I showed my husband that exchange, this was his reply:

I got the last laugh though!

I am sad to report that we are now officially out of Reed's chocolate milk and for the time being I will either be slumming it with Western Family chocolate milk or hershey's chocolate syrup mixed in my regular milk, c'est la vie (that's french for, that's life!).

Bertie, get your gun!

We live out in the country in a small town of just over 500 people. Naturally, we have critters. For example, right now as I sit in my living room, I can smell a skunk scent coming through the open back window. They like my backyard because I have a compost pile with fruit and veggie scraps in it, Thankfully, we keep our dog in the garage at night so she hasn't been sprayed yet (knock on wood).

Another hazard of our location is mice. No matter what we do+ they keep coming in. So, we just keep setting traps and catching them. Well, lately there has been a rather tough little one to catch. It has gone as far as eating the bait off the trap without setting it off! We keep seeing it dart in and out from the back of our stove, I have seen it under the sink, and scurrying along the floor. Gross, I know! It really is country living.

Well, tonight I had enough. As I was switching the laundry one of my boys says, "Mouse!" I said, "Where?" he replies, "Right here, looking back at me." So, I went to where "right here" was and sure enough there it was sitting there; taunting (at least it seemed that way). Seeing what would be tempting the little mouse out, I decided to grab a chunk of the cake from the pan, and put it in a cup and tilted it against the stove where I kept seeing the mouse peek out, here's the pic: (no mouse in this pic, just a set up of my trap)

To make a long story short, I eventually walked away but I came back and I saw the bold little critter's head just barely over the top of the blue pyrex lid; it was on the stove top! So, I did what any other true Idaho girl would do, I went and got my son's bb gun. When I came back and raised it the little thing scurried away. I thought to myself, "dang it! It sure felt the threat!" I walked away and decided I would sneak up with the gun raised. As I got closer I saw its head in about the same place. With the gun raised I slowly went up on my tippy toes for a better view and I could barely see its little ears sticking up above the lid so I aimed just a tad bit lower and shot! The mouse disappeared from my view and I heard the bb ricochet around me, again I thought, "dang it! How did I miss that?!" So, I turned the main light on and moved the pan and to my pleasant surprise, there it layed, sadly it was suffering a bit so I did the only humane thing and took a second shot to put it out of its misery. This next photo is a bit graphic, consider yourself warned, and proceed with caution:

Now, before you go getting your knickers all twisted and write me some nasty comment about how barbaric my method was or how there are other options let me explain, this is life. There aren't any other feasible options. I did not violate this mouse's civil rights or use cruel and/or unusual punishment against it. I did what was necessary to rid my home of this threat. Mouse feces and pee is highly dangerous and can cause serious illness (google it), The nature of where we live allows mice to breed and enter into nearby dwellings. If we don't kill them they will overtake us and we cannot have that. Our house has been here for over a hundred years and I don't plan on letting the mice take over now.

One last thing: consider this a warning to any would be intruders, "little sister don't miss when she aims her gun" and I do have a bigger one! (Points to whoever can name that tune)

I LOVE Memes!

Facebook is the mecca of memes. They are everywhere for everything! Anyone can make one too. My brother writes comments above and below pics of his baby,( I'd show ya but then I would have to take the time to ask him if it's okay that I post a pic of his kid on my blog and then he'd want to see the blog and then I wouldn't be free to talk trash about him without him getting all offended so, I am sorry but you can't see it). 

However, I do have some other memes that I love, let me show you some of my favs: (just a warning: some might be offensive)

There's always a back story, here's mine: I naturally look angry. In fact, one day I was walking into a meeting and a kid says to me, "Why are you upset?" I told him that I wasn't upset and he says, "Then why do you always look so angry?" I explained that it was just the way I looked, it's my natural face, awkward! But, that is why these first two memes speak to me. 

I hang out with a small group of gals consisting of my biological sister and two friends. We all come from similar backgrounds. We were all raised in the same religion and currently all of us attend regularly (that hasn't always been the case for some of us) All of our parents are still married but we still come from dysfunctional homes. In some homes there was physical and/or verbal abuse, neglect. naivete etc that has led to some emotional instability and when we all found each other we knew we would be friends for life. so the following four memes sum us up pretty accurately:

In fact, I have a pic of three of us stalking our fourth "sister" as she was meeting her soon to be in laws. This is me hanging out the sunroof of my mini van using Saggs' binoculars, don't worry, we went inside and I have photo documentation but I am going to save the rest for another post . . .

 I'm the driver

 This is relatively mild. Some of us have checked our phones only to find pics of others flashing or mooning our cameras.

Our bonding goes deep and I imagine we will always be there for each other.

Finally, my two very favorites, wait for it . . . 

Yeah this is me

I love the look on the little girls face as she's flipping off the camera, she's saying, "Yeah, take this (bleep)!" Cracks me up every time!

The Holy War

I LOVE college football. It is the mark of all things cozy, like the transition from summer to fall and curling up by the fire watching a game or reading a book. I have even been to the College Football Hall of Fame in Atlanta, Georgia!

I was born in Provo, Utah while my dad was working on his bachelors degree at BYU. I bleed blue, I always have. Today is what is known, in the college football world, as "The Holy War".
BYU vs U of U.  

I never realized the intense rivalry of Utah's two biggest universities until I married into a family where everyone, except my hubby, attended the U (University of Utah).

 Here I am proving how blue I am:

 My midwife, Rachel is a Ute alumni so we get some pretty playful banter back and forth about which school is going to win. I couldn't help myself and so I started trash texting her earlier this week:

Here I am next to my midwife's car, she was inside the hospital delivering my friend's baby when I vandalized her car.

Here I am with Rachel and Sarah. We just finished tagging the new midwife's van, she's not a cougar fan but that's what makes this even more funny

This is my hubby when we watched last year's Holy War, I was sitting on the couch when he walked in, my oldest brother leaned over and said, "He seems conflicted."

If I am being honest, I think BYU has lost the last 7 out of 10 contests or something like that but the rivalry is still super fun no matter who wins. 

Mole Massage Part Due (That's two in Italian)

I don't know what I did to deserve such a treat but this morning my little mole massager crawled up into my bed and guess what?! You're absolutely right! She reached for my mole.

See?!

Best of all, for your entertainment, I got it on video, Enjoy!

Mole Massages

Have you ever had a mole massage?! If you haven't, you are missing out! It wasn't until my seventh child was about one year old that I started to get them. She would crawl into bed with me and as she was sucking her bottle and going to sleep she would reach her hand up and feel my face until she found the mole just below my bottom lip. I even have a picture to illustrate:

Or this one:

I have more!

I have no clue what started it or what magical power it possessed but for almost a year she wouldn't go to sleep unless she was touching that mole!

She has since quit giving me nightly mole massages (they come about once every quarter now) but she has picked up a new habit: body painting!

She's a cheetah.

I am Bertie Koehn

What makes me so special that you should take the time to read what I have to say? I have no clue! But, a few of my friends have encouraged me to go forward with this, so buckle up and I hope you enjoy the ride.

Growing up I became very aware that people talk about me. Why would they do that???

I am an average looking person, but my personality sets me aside. I am blunt and honest (you will seldom wonder what I am thinking about you because chances are, I'll tell you), If I say it behind your back I have most likely said it to your face, I don't care a whole lot about what people think of me and I am quick to encourage others to feel the same,

I love music and I love to sing but I can barely carry a tune (hence the blog title), and I have heard that I can be pretty funny. Need some proof? Here ya go! This is me at a close friends bachelorette party.

I have had many weird things happen to me (perfect strangers stopping me in the grocery store, or at the mall, or in a restaurant and proceeding to pour their souls out to me revealing things that I do not need to know!)

I moved around a lot growing up resulting in me attending four different high schools. I have been a minority, the butt of the joke, the life of the party, and the party pooper.

What probably sets me apart the most though is that I am a "millenial" AND, currently, the mother of nine kids ranging in age from 12 years to 6 months. No twins. They range from 11 months to 23 months apart.

For the sake of my family's privacy I will use a pseudonym on this blog. I chose the name very carefully. I am mostly German, Italian, and Irish. I look like the Irish but act like the Italian, so it seemed only appropriate to bring everything full circle and choose a German name. Bertie is short for Huberta, my maternal grandmothers middle name. She hates it! Koehn is her maiden name.

My sister starting using the name Huberta for me more than ten years ago. It came about one night while we were out terrorizing our town's grocery store. We developed a reputation there as the "silly sisters". We would go in and within seconds most of the store knew we were there. We were loud and shameless in our conversations and interactions. Between our horrible fake southern accents and embarrassing comments, well, needless to say, people either steered clear of us or followed us.

One night, as we were checking out, I was saying something to the clerk about his name.  We were completely unrehearsed so I was caught off guard by my sister yelling really loudly for everyone to hear, "just because your name is Huberta don't mean you gotta make fun of everyone else's names!"  Thus, the birth of Huberta. For short, my sister calls me Huey but in an effort to make it more feminine the hubby suggested I go by, Bertie.