Locker Room Revisited

A couple of months ago a friend asked if she could use one of my blog posts as a monologue when she auditioned for a play. She found a post she thought would work and we worked together on revising it. She auditioned for the play, scored the lead, and the highlight of my life was that I got to see the play AND see my name in the program (she thanked me in the program, that's huge!). Anyway, it was really fun and just yesterday I saw something in the gym that reminded me of this monologue inspiring experience...someone was combing their eyelashes with a toothbrush. Is this normal? I should make a poster "Everything I Need to Know About Personal Hygiene I Learned in the Lifetime Fitness Locker Room". Because really? It's true.


Locker Room
by Kristi Bassett

I grew up in a family of five. But it was kind of a weird family of five because I had three siblings who were older....like, WAY older (I may be slightly off here but I believe my older siblings were ages 17, 14 and 13 when I was born). And my brother Shawn, who was just four years older than me, was too busy plotting ways to raise my parents blood pressure to pay much attention to me. So - for all intents and purposes I was basically raised as an only child, with some of the joys of having siblings thrown in there - like being impaled by horse chestnuts each fall and having to watch Shawn turn his eyelids inside out just to torture me while riding in the backseat of the car (gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking back on it).

What I am trying to say here, is that I never learned how to be a girl. Really, I didn't. I mean sure, I would sneak off with Stef at recess and discuss the intricacies of menstruation. And once on a shopping trip with her family we even pooled our money together and bought deodorant (which we secretly applied while riding in the back of the station wagon). But I didn't exactly have anyone around who I could mimic- who could teach me the ins and outs of being cool, boys, and most importantly of things like make-up.

I mean, sure, I tried to mimic my mom - which is how I assume most girls learn how to primp and pamper. Growing up in the 40s she clung tightly to the trend of nearly shaving off your eyebrows and then penciling them back on, creating a look of permanent surprise. But when I tried to do the same thing I wound up shaving an eyebrow completely off and cutting my eyelashes precariously close to the lid. And maybe some people can pull off the uncle Fester look, but unfortunately, I am not one of those people. My quick thinking saved me a punishment when I falsely accused Jimmy, my childhood friend, of being the mastermind of the assault on my face. And though my eyelashes and brows have long since grown back, she’s still working on treating Jimmy civilly.
What I desperately needed was someone two or three years older who was infinitely cooler than myself, who could be my mentor. I needed DJ from Full House or Topenga from Boy Meets World, but unfortunately I hung around with more of the Kimmy Gibbler crowd, and it showed.

The moral of the story is that the locker room at the gym baffles me. I’ve never been around so much estrogen! There are women in there primping and prepping in ways that I never even imagined. Straightening Irons, finishing creams, powders, potions, it’s overwhelming! These women are dolling themselves up more for an afternoon play date than I did for my wedding! I can’t say I blame them, rather, I admire them! I want to look nice, I want to pucker my lips and trace them and make kissy faces in the mirror without looking like a moron. People probably think it's a bit odd to see me gawking as they meticulously apply their make-up, but I simply can’t help it, I want to learn!

The bottom line is.... I saw someone blow-drying their eyelashes yesterday. And I don't understand why. Is this something I should be doing? Am I unaware of some health hazard resulting from simply letting your lashes air-dry? Does it make them darker? Curlier? Or have damp lashes just gone the way of my beloved boot cut jeans? Are they sooooo 2009? I am kind of panicky about it because as much as I want to embrace my femininity and apply the knowledge I gather from the gym locker room, I can sense a revisiting of the whole "shave the eyebrow" incident, only this time involving fire and eyesight impairment rather than just social suicide. But on the other hand, they do say that pain is beauty...

What else am I missing out on? And for the love, will someone just invite me over for a sleepover and teach me the fine art of putting on eyeshadow? I'm 28 years old, I think it's time I know.

4

Wow. Time flies when you are having fun, eh? Not sure how this little guy went from 0 - 4 in about two seconds, but he did! Having Bentley and Ivy so close together really through me for a loop (I know, you are thinking...really? She's not over it yet? But nope, not over it yet.). I think the hardest thing about it (besides trying to care for a newborn while puking my guts out) was that I felt like I didn't really get to pay enough attention to Bentley while he was just a little guy.

So it has actually been kind of fun this past month as Gwen has been gone at school all day and I just have the younger two at home. I feel like I am getting to see a fun side of Bentley (and Ivy). It's been fun to get to spend more time with him and to make up for some serious lost time while I was in a state of "two baby delirium" for a couple of years (I can hear twin moms laughing hysterically, I know dudes, I'm not as tough as you. I admit it).

Anyway, just thought I would give a little Bentley update for posterity's sake here on Bentley's fourth birthday.

Bentley finally started preschool, which he absolutely loves. He's been dying to go since he first found out about preschool about two and a half years ago. I am so grateful that he is finally old enough to go (misses the school deadline by two weeks, sigh). He goes to a little preschool a few houses down and looks forward to it every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 12:30-3.



Which is when he used to take a nap. And which is when he still does take a nap on Tuesdays and Thursdays. One of my very favorite things about Bentley is that he still takes naps. Willingly, readily and most of the time happily.


He is really in to puzzles right now. It's kind of fun as Gwen never really got in to them so much. He's conquered the 24 piece puzzle and is now loving 48 piecers. And I love Dollar Tree for having such a nice selection of puzzles for $1. When the puzzles get too easy we take two of them and mix all the pieces together for an added element of fun.


He's a master at the bigwheel. That happened over the summer. At the beginning of the summer we had a bike parade and we were kind of the laughing stock of the ward for a while because of how slow we were. But he really picked up on it and I think he is ready to move on to training wheels. Luckily he just got a spiderman scooter ($3 at a garage sale!) and a wiggle car for his birthday. We'll have to get some good time in before the snow starts to fall!


Bentley LOVES to sing. And he loves to sing loudly. It's really made me reconsider the music I listen too. I never thought it was bad, but nothing makes you realize how bad the music you listen to is like your 3 (well now 4) year old belting out songs at Costco. His very favorites are "Tonight Tonight," anything by Owl City, and basically any song you hear on the radio more than five times a day. Yeah, I think I am going to invest in some educational songs and start playing those because that kid can memorize lyrics so quickly! He'll hear a song once and then start singing it.

He is so sweet. Seriously. Gwen is so tough and stubborn that I have kind of learned that I have to be stern with her. But Bentley as soon as he can sense you are upset with him quickly apologizes. Most often he will burst in to tears as well. He just wants to please everyone so much. It is such a relief to have a kid that actually...I don't know... like feels remorse. The other day I was rushing to get the kids in the car so we could pick up Gwen in time. I had told Bentley to grab his shoes and get in the car. I then took out the garbage. When I came in I hollored "Bentley, get up here!". No response, then "BEN!", then forgetting how tender he is "BENTLEY, GET UP HERE RIGHT NOW!". Then I heard some crying. I went downstairs to find him, but he wasn't there. I finally found him in the van, in the garage, with his seatbelt bucked, sobbing. He heard me yelling for him and he couldn't get out of his seatbelt to come find me. And the whole time he was exactly where I had asked him to be, he was so quick that he got out there in the two seconds I was outside taking out the trash. What a sweet, obedient boy.

On the Fourth of July he was tossing a pillow around and somehow fell backwards and hit the back of his head on our coffee table. The corner of the coffee table. I could hear it. I knew it was going to be bad. He cried but I didn't see any blood. It was kind of weird. Then I moved my hand and my hand had blood on it. Then I almost passed out when I saw his small puncture wound on his head. We took him to the instacare where he got two staples put in. This is the first instance of stitches/staples in the Blaine Bassett family history. And I learned that I don't think I can ever. EVER. Be a nurse. I almost tossed my cookies like ten times throughout the whole experience.

He LOVES church. He talks about his primary teachers nearly every day. One day he came home and said, "Mom and Dad we have a big problem". The big problem was that Sister McCorriston (his teacher) wasn't there that week. A few weeks later he excitedly came out of primary to tell us he had figured out why Sister McCorriston had been missing for a couple of weeks - she had had a baby. So cute. He really listens to his primary teachers too and can tell us every week what he learns.

Whenever we ask him to do something, particularly something not fun like going potty, his shoulders immediately slump he looks down and says in a droll voice, "this is gonna take forevvvvvver". I don't know why, but he always says it, and I always think it is hilarious.

For our family reunion this summer we did a family marathon. For two hours we all ran as much as we could and tried to see how many marathons we could collectively run. I thought Bentley would stay in the stroller the whole time but oh no! That kid ran. A lot. In flip flops. When all was said and done I think he logged in about three miles by himself! We really need to get him some running shoes!

He loves to give kisses, and he has some seriously huge lips. No one but me really likes receiving the kisses though, and ironically he doesn't like to receive kisses either, just give them. To his sisters. Blaine and I pray often that he isn't going to be that kid in elementary. You know, the one that runs around kissing people.

The other day when I gave him a haircut I guess I had cut it too short and he said, "this haircut makes me look too much like Grandpa Genessy". Grandpa Genessy is bald. Ha ha.

Bentley is a pure delight to have in our family. He seriously makes me so happy. I love being with him, and everyone he meets just loves him. I feel so lucky to be his mom and so sad to see how quickly he is growing up. I tell him all the time that I want him to stay little but he says he eats too many vegetables so he is going to keep growing. Darn it all.

Sophie's Choice or: Why My Children Will Prefer to Take the Stairs

So, I'll save you some grief for when your youngest child is no longer in a stroller. Kids are afraid of escalators. I had absolutely no idea. See I have had one, if not two, kids in strollers for the past seven years now rendering escalators impossible. And even if I were to be naughty and fold up my stroller and take the escalator the child in question was probably small enough that I carried him/her up the darn thing.

So today I had a return to make at sears (side note, never buy anything from sears.com unless you know for certain that you won't be returning it, I am 2 for 2 on nightmare return situations). So I took the three kids with me, we made our return and wound up with $15 on a gift card. I figured it would be easiest to just use it while I was already there. The kids section was on the second floor. And that, my friends was when the "shizzizzle" hit the proverbial fan.

The way it goes in our family is that Ivy and I lead the way while Bentley and Gwen fight and bicker and putter along behind us. So, proceeding in our typical fashion I had Ivy's hand and got on the escalator going up. 1.5 seconds later I realize that Gwen had made it on the escalator but Bentley was still at the bottom quivering like it was a death trap. I urge him to just step on, certainly he had done this before, right? Meanwhile Ivy and I are drifting further and further up and away from Ben.

He finally gathers his courage enough to make a move but then freaks out and tries to go back down off a stair. He's completely panicking as he realizes that he could be stuck there forever and is not getting any closer to the bottom. He starts trying to go faster and... faceplants it on the escalator. He's wailing. Absolutely wailing, but Ivy and I are approaching the exit and as I think of her trying to get off the escalator alone horrible stories from the past of people's shoelaces and hair and phalanges getting gobbled up at the top of escalators flash before my eyes.

It's a real pickle. I felt like Sophie in Sophie's Choice. I really did. I quickly made a plan of action, despite Bentley's situation looking awfully precarious, I figured I would have time to get Ivy safely to the top of the escalator and then run down and catch Bentley before he made it to the top. It was kind of a nightmare all of the sudden as I contemplated the possibility that I could lose two children to the monstrosity.

Then a nice old man (who looked at me with utmost disdain for so carelessly abandoning my son-- can't blame him) saved the day. He picked up Bentley and carried him up the escalator to me.

Whew.

So life goes on and ten minutes later we are ready to leave the store, we have to go down the escalator. Having graduated the school of elevator hard knocks I picked up Ivy and Bentley and proceeded with caution to the mighty beast. It was then that I noticed Gwen cowering and nudging her way backwards away from the escalator.

For twenty minutes we sat there at the top, trying to help Gwen muster up the courage to get on the escalator. Ivy, Ben and I went up and down ten times to try to show her that it was going to be okay. Now, I could have understood if Bentley had a little post traumatic stress but Gwen? Really. I got lots of fun looks from passersby as I gave my best motivational speech about how if she was afraid of escalators she would be stuck on the "first floor of life" for ever. She didn't care.

Finally, finally, after much bribery and much motivational speaking we finally made our triumphant return to the first floor of Sears. None the worse for the wear but having learned some valuable life lessons. Like that you should maybe not just assume that kids know how to use escalators. Or at least put them on it first. Or better yet...just take the elevator.

Chipmunk Cheeks

That was my nickname. Chipmunk Cheeks. We did a lot of things with my great aunts when I was a kid. Our Christmas traditions involved lots of great-aunt visiting. We enjoyed eating talerina with Aunt June (and getting a pair of socks with a fifty cent piece inside), then going over to enjoy Aunt Audrey's vast collection of cuckoo clocks and birds (of the real, non cuckoo variety). It was a fun childhood. Except for that they both called me "chipmunk cheeks" like all the time.

Anyway, flash forward two decades later and Bentley's favorite thing is to play "Chipmunk Cheeks" by stuffing whatever food we are eating in his cheeks before chewing and swallowing. It's endearing, and...kind of gross.

So last weekend was our family camping trip to Fountain Green. At the end of the trip my dear sister-in-law Stef offered to take Bentley for most of the next week (WOOHOO*)

The kids were exhausted when we finally got all packed up to go to our respective homes, and Stef sent me the following images of the first five minutes of their drive.

Woohoo! Riding with cousins is the best. thing. ever! (Note that poor Bentley gets lobsterfied anytime the mercury creeps past about 75 dgs, good thing we aren't in Texas anymore eh?)

A few minutes later Stef's kids had fallen asleep and Bentley looked a little...distressed. She asked what was wrong, he replied, "I'm doing schimpmuch sheiks". It took a minute to figure out that he was, indeed, doing chipmunk cheeks. But then he fell asleep.

And since he was asleep she decided to help rid him of the Chipmunk Cheeks.

And the grapes kept coming, and coming, and coming. I am not sure I know what the final count was, but I am certainly glad that the poor kid didn't choke to death!

It sure has been quiet around this house with little Bentley gone. Gwen and Ivy have been downright civil to each other. Not sure what it is with Gwen and Bentley, but they fight incessantly. But despite the peace and quiet and calmness that has presided over our home the last several days, I miss this kid! He is like a walking exclamation point and I can't wait to kiss his face off when I see him again tonight!

* I remember one time when I only had one kid someone who had two kids saying something to the effect of "well you only have one kid so you don't understand". It really bothered me. But, I have to admit in the last two months I have had the chance to only have two kids a couple of times (thanks Stef!), and it does not matter the combination of kids but in my personal experience two kids is WAY, like tremendously, extraordinarily, extremely and downright miraculously easier than having three kids. That is not to diminish anyone's one-kid or two-kid lives at all, those times were hard too. But jeepers, two kids is like a stroll in the park compared to three. But that could just be because I never really got a chance with two kids. Remember how I was pregnant with Ivy when Ben was the tender age of seven months? yeah. I am sure that three kids is a walk in the park compared to having four. Which is why I only have three :). The end.

Why I Should Not Be Your #1 Choice for Family Portraits

Oh blurgh. Twenty pictures and this is the best one I can get of my three children together? Not exactly mantle worthy.

On the bright side though, I'm starting to get the hang of taking individual shots.

PS Gwen is the only person who can hold still long enough for me to adjust my settings to take a decent picture though. Oh well : )

gaga ooh la la

Bentley is a loud guy. Not in a bad way, he's not usually whining or complaining. He's usually singing. His current favorite is "Tonight, tonight"
La, la, la whatever
La, la, la it doesn't matter
La, la, la oh well
La, la, la

Really, he knows the whole song. It's really sweet and fun, but it can get quite loud, and perhaps a little embarrassing. You never realize what song lyrics are actually saying until your innocent child starts blaring out pop music at Costco (that one was Bad Romance, by Lada Gaga, "rah rah ah ah ah roma ro ma ma gaga ooh la la). Yeah, nothing like wide eyed glares from passersby as he belts out at the top of his lungs.

Anyway the other day I had a really bad headache and he was singing in his typical boisterous way and I looked right in his eyes and said "SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" to which he responded "why?" (usually Gwen is the shusher in this family and I try to tell her to only shush bad sounds not happy singing). I responded "sorry bud, but I have a headache" and then he said, "well, what is your headache trying to sleep or something?"

I love the things kids come up with!

Clarification

My child is NOT named after a car. I just want to clear that up. Because when Blaine clicked on an article about, and I quote, "the most despised baby names" we were a little horrified to see that Bentley was near the top of that list.

I have a thing about names. I like awesome ones. I take a great deal of deliberation when choosing them. I don't want a common name. Ivy's name was on the top 1000 (#299) when we named her and that was pushing it. But I loved it so much that I made an exception.

When I named Bentley it wasn't even in the top 1000 baby names. I practically invented using the name. Bentley was born in 2007, and the social security rating for his name in 2007 was #995 (it wasn't on the list for any year prior, ever.). But apparently there is some famous teenage mom (from one of those crazy shows that advocate teen pregnancy) that named her child Bentley and now, what do you know, for 2010 Bentley ranked #101 on the list of baby boy names. What a sham. And on top of being a now extremely popular name, people apparently hate it, because they assume people are using it because of the classy Bentley car. I kind of want to pull my hair out.

Let me tell you a brief history of my childrens names, lest you think I am a Bentley driving Gwenyth Paltrow fan whose favorite plant is Ivy (can you see the steam coming out of my ears?).

Gwen. Gwen is named after Blaines Grandma. Blaine's Grandma is absolutely the most Christlike person on the planet today. I am sure of it. So selfless, kind, caring, sweet. The salt of the Earth. If asked who I most wanted to be like on the planet, it would most certainly be Grandma Gwen. Gwen's name was 100% going to be Adilyn. Adilyn Paige. Up until the day she was born, when it just didn't feel right. And thank goodness for that. Little Adi would have been lost in a sea of Madi's, Abby's and Adi's. Dodged that bullet.

Bentley. My Grandma's maiden name was Bentley. It seemed perfect. We loved the name Ben but didn't want to use the common name of Benjamin. So one day I had an epiphany (I was in the HEB parking lot with Ralphie) to use my Grandma's maiden name. She was also a very sweet, kind, give you the shirt off her back, kind of Grandma. And bonus! We could stick with the using of the family name thing, which we never set out to do, but hey! Why not!

Ivy Jane. Now this was a hard one. We had used family names twice, but was that going to be our thing? I didn't want to commit to a trend. We stewed and stressed. My desire to name my child something unique reached an all time high. I really really loved the name Scout. I thought it would be darling for a little girl. I could not sell Scout on Blaine to save my life (much the same as Charlie with Bentley). One day on the phone I was teasing my dad, Ivan (goes by Don), that I was going to name the new baby after him and call her "Ivy". It was completely a joke. But then...I really liked it. In the hospital we had the names narrowed to Lyla Jane or Ivy Jane. We had penciled in Lyla on the certificate. Then I told Blaine I was sick of trying to figure it out, and that he was to leave and not come back until he had for sure named our new baby. He came back with tears in his eyes and said her name was Ivy Jane. He really wanted to honor my parents (Ivan and Jan). He new I wasn't the best at showing grattitude, and I really did have amazing parents. He wanted to show them how much we love and admire them by naming our daughter after them (in a round about way).

So SEE. My kid is not named after a car, nor was his name inspired by teenage pregnancy.

Now, if your kids name is popular, that's great. I love popular names too. And if you named your kid after a car, more power to you. I just didn't and I want to clarify so that if you think Bentley is a very uppity thing to name your kid you can realize...I named my Bentley after a humble old lady, who lived in a tiny house in Ogden and had a heart of gold, not a pot of it.

(PS the spacing on this post will not be fixed. I tried. Repeatedly. It's like hard wired in here. Sorry)