The Bonehead News

Disappearing Stuff and the Secret Ways of Teenage Girls

2011-09-03T16:21:00.000-07:00

Recently, I read about the experience of one of my wife’s cousins who postulated that when you have children, in order to be able to have at least one pair of scissors in the drawer when you need them, you would need to buy more than 18 pairs of scissors. That’s an interesting theory. It follows right in line with another theory I posted here a couple of years ago: The Law of Diminishing Utensils.

In order to understand how this law works, let me explain first Johnson's Law of Excessive Utensil Usage which states: A child will use utensils in direct proportion to the number of utensils owned, multiplied by 5. The Law of Diminishing Utensils further states: The amount of utensils owned will decrease at a rate in direct correlation to the number of children living in the home. We have 4. That means that on any given day, we will lose 13 pieces of utensils.

For example, on that day I had loaded the dishwasher with nearly 20 forks. After they were clean, I put them back into the drawer. All 20 of them (remember that number). A few hours later I wanted a fork, opened the drawer and found but two forks. Just two. I looked in the sink. No forks. I looked in the dishwasher. No forks. I asked my 4 children, "Have you guys used any forks?" This is what they said:
Josh: "Parker used some."
Parker: "No I didn't! You did!"
Josh: "No I didn't Parker, you used one to stab ants."
Parker "That was Alex!"
Alex: "It was not, it was a beetle."
Josh: "Well Parker still used some"
Parker: "Yeah, to eat chicken nuggets"
Marcus: "I like forks! Can I have some skittles?"

This law also applies to food, socks, hidden candy, and money. Basically if you have children everything will disappear along with any knowledge they might have had about where it went.

Speaking of kids and theories, there is another theory out there that suggests that having a dog is more desirable than having a child. What are they thinking!?! I saw a website where someone had listed 45 reasons why having a dog is more desirable than having a child. Among their reasons were:
- They eat less
- Don’t want to wear your clothes
- They don’t mind when you pass gas
- They don’t grab everything in the grocery store

Kids are way better than dogs! People think that kids embarrass you in public. Do you know what dogs do in public? I mean, besides sniff other dogs' butts? They're disgusting! But to reply to the woefully misinformed souls out there who still think that a dog is better than a kid I offer my rebuttal to the argument listed above:

- Dogs eat less? Really? Have they ever tried to feed a 2 year old?
- Dogs don’t wear your clothes because they eat them. (This is probably the reason they eat less dog food).
- Kids also don’t mind if you pass gas. In fact they will join you! (Unless Mom shows up, then its every man for himself).
- They don't grab everything in stores because they are too busy sniffing butts.
And finally...
Dogs eat poop. Argument over, kids win.

I suppose I should get down to business and explain today’s title. As a marriage and family therapist I am continually fascinated by how relationships work, how attraction happens, and how people interact. I am always searching for new insights to help me understand relational dynamics better. Once my Brother-in-Law sent me a book titled, “Capt. Kirks Guide to Women”.
While that gem hasn't stood up under the scrutiny of empirically-based research or the APA, I believe the Space Cowboy was on to something. Recently, however Neisha overheard Josh and Parker discussing the latest research on garnering the affections of women. What follows is top secret and should only be used with great caution!

They started out by talking about how girls are too emotional and they cry a lot. Then Josh said that could actually be to your advantage. This is pretty much how it went:
Josh: "If you go up to a girl who is sad and ask her what is wrong and talk to her she likes it. She may even give you a hug if you help her to feel better."
Parker was very interested in this tidbit of knowledge. “Really! What do you say?”
Josh: “Yep. You just say stuff to make them feel better.”
Parker: “Will she give you a kiss on the cheek?”
Josh: ”Sometimes.”
Parker: "Sweet!"

I can't wait to hear how that one pans out. Sheesh. Well, in the interest of time that's all the news that's fit to print so until next time hide the forks!

The Father's Day Edition

2011-06-19T16:40:00.000-07:00

Father's Day, belt lore, and why women wear high heels-

Today is Father's Day. What a day. Maybe for some dads it isn't a big deal. But at my house it's a national holiday! My wonderful boys have been saving up money for weeks in order to get me what they called "the perfect gift". I was intrigued. Even Marcus, my precocious 5 year old has been seen scavenging the couch cushions for pennies, nickels, and dimes. My waiting has finally paid off! Today after church the boys brought in a bunch of presents and in the middle of them sat a huge one. The big one. The present that they'd been saving weeks for. The present that was so big it towered over all the other presents. The big kahuna. And there they all were, pointing to it with big grins on their faces. I never would have guessed, but ladies and gentlemen I am now the proud owner of a giant jar of cheese balls. It's huge! There has to be 9,000,000 cheese balls in there! I could make a garland out of them! Needless to say I was totally excited. Among my other cool gifts were matching hot wheels cars, 3 secret boxes, some nifty markers and pens, a birdhouse (built by Alex), an EFY DVD from Josh and. . .wait for it. . .a trebuchet. Alex built one at scout day camp. I discovered that the trebuchet can launch a cheese ball about 20 ft. So later we all went outside and I launched cheeseballs at them while they jumped on the trampoline. Life is good. Neish got me a way cool (and desperately needed) grill cover. Our grill takes a beating in the Arizona heat and she found the perfect one.

In other news Josh just back from EFY. he hasn't stopped talking about it yet. He spent a week with 700 other 14-18 year olds. He made a lot of new friends, met a lot of girls, and came home a better person. He even bore his testimony in front of all of them! It's amazing what a camp like that does for a teen. I see teens all the time who do nothing but play video games, have no goals, no dreams, and are not even planning on graduating from high school. What a contrast to see so many youth, heads held high, knowing who they are, knowing where they are headed in life. Very inspiring.

And now for the tidbits...
In Marcus news, I watched him learn the art of putting on a belt. He kept trying to stick it through backwards or kept trying to find the loop in the back. This wouldn't have been so funny except he kept turning around in circles like a dog. Finally dad came to the rescue. When I showed him where to start he chuckled and said, "oh I never knew."

Alex and Marcus have become entrpenures by way of the ever popular "Home Store" which is basically a table filled with um, stuff. Usually it's toys that the kids don't want anymore or something they made out of macaroni. But these two have taken Home Store-ing to a new level: they are selling all the stuff they had to pick up around the house! See, they get charged for stuff they leave laying around so I guess they figured that they would charge us for it before we had a chance to charge them! Not bad business I think.

And finally, a lesson in why women wear high heels-
We recently went to a concert and there was a bassist who looked like a boy and I thought he was a boy until I saw she was wearing high heels. I didn't think much of it after that. Well a few minutes later Alex leans over and whispers, "That guy is wearing high heels!" I just smiled knowing at least we were on the same page. A few minutes later I leaned over to him and asked why he thought that guy was wearing high heels. Without losing a beat he pointed to the bass and replied, "So he can reach the top of that thing."

I guess that's all the news that's fit to print so until next time, forget the ladder and get yourself some pumps.

Love,
The Johnsons

Updates and a night with Mr. Manners

2010-11-21T18:54:00.000-08:00

A chilly November greetings to you all!

Yesterday was a fantastic day. It was a balmy 63 degrees and Parker's last football game. I've included a couple pictures below. One is of him diving just before he snagged the flag of his opponent. The next one is of his QB (also his best friend) giving him a hand off:

And speaking of Parker, he finally received his Arrow of Light award in scouts. It was a great night, he was really proud. Now it's on to boy scouts, camp outs, and four more years of me enjoying sleeping outside in the cold. Bring it! He also got to go up in a hot air balloon which is a first for anyone in our family.

In Alex news, he was the 3rd person in his entire grade at school to make it into the "Sun" which is a big deal. You have to pass off math fact timed tests on addition, subtraction, division, multiplication, and mixed facts. All the tests are over 100 problems long and you have to get 100%. He is a study in contrasts. On the one hand, he gets straight A's. On the other, he is the class clown. He'd probably get in trouble more except the teacher is laughing as much as the students. He always gets picked to do class reading because he hams it up so much. Definitely a Johnson trait. :)

Josh is almost done with his required merit badges for his eagle and still loving scouts. He is also loving being a big brother and tormenting his little brothers. Let me give you an example: Parker and Alex wanted to make a password for their profile on the computer and Josh kept guessing their passwords. This was quite a feat given that Alex was the one creating them. Here's how it went:
Alex: Okay mom I have my password!
Josh: is it "cheese"?
Alex: Dang it! (type type type type) Ok, I have another one.
Josh: is it "george"?
Alex: Ah! Stop it! (typetypetypetypetype) Ok, you won't guess this one!
Josh: Um, how about "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious"
Alex: Josh! Sheesh. (typetypetypetypetypetype) Ok try and guess this one
Josh: Is it "Josh sucks"?
Alex: Yep! You sure do!
All in all I think Alex had the last laugh but boy Josh was making some good guesses.

A couple other Joshisms...
Last week Neish took the young women and young men to St. George, and a bunch of the young women wanted to ride with her. Then Josh decided to ride with someone else. Without another word, three of the girls who were going to ride with Neish amazingly ended up riding in the same car as him. Apparently he didn't notice this strange migration. There have been several other strange changes that come over girls when Josh is around. We are hoping he remains blissfully ignorant. For another 10 years. One other tidbit about Josh. While in St. George he attended a free-running competition and spent some time watching lots of really good people compete. One of the best guys in the world was there putting on demonstrations and clinics all day. He was teaching the kids how to do wall running backflips and how to do all kinds of crazy tricks and flips over boxes and up walls. And when I finally talked to him last night and asked how it went, his reply was "good." That was it. I guess my son is finally a teenager.

And now to explain the remainder of our title. Tonight we were playing "the Manners game" which is a game my wife invented to try and teach our boys some culture. You see, dinner is a strange and sometimes terrifying event at our house. I've decided that boys do not naturally come pre-wired to use utencils, chew with their mouth closed, or even sit in their chair in the normal "human" way. So as I said, Neisha made up this game to try and instill basic table manners. It goes like this: The boys go outside and ring the doorbell. Neisha or I then answer the door and they are supposed to ask politely to come in. We then invite them to eat dinner and they are supposed to graciously accept, sit down, eat the right way, say "please" and "thank you" and "may I?" Well tonight was kind of a flop. For starters it is only 40 degrees outside and blowing. I answered the door and Alex, Parker, and Marcus, all said through chattering teeth, "It's about time man! We're freezing!" Score: 0. On our way to the table, Alex politely asks, "Can I use your bathroom?" This sends Marcus into fits of laughter and he asks (politely) if we can turn the lights off while Alex is in there. Once at the table, Alex asked what we were having and I said, "Green bean casserole."
"My, that's disgusting" replied Alex. Score: -2. Meanwhile Josh is squatting on his chair and using a serving spoon to eat. It was about here that I figured out that my kids were doing all this on purpose and that they were trying to be as non-mannered as possible. And just as I was about to say something about it, Parker, who had been thinking of something polite to say blurted out "Dad, you're hot." That did it. Everyone started laughing and we gave up the manners game. Sigh. At least they all cleaned their plates up and said thanks for dinner.

That's about it from the ranch so until next time remember it's not polite to sing with your mouth full.

Love, the Johnsons

Batman Crying meets the Underwear King

2010-10-01T15:50:00.000-07:00

Greetings Bonehead fans! - that would be both of you.

There has been a a lot going on here at the desert oasis and I figure it's time to update the old blog.

In soccer news, all four boys are playing and somehow, dad got bamboozled into coaching three of them. So pretty much I live at the soccer field during the week. This is josh's last year in the rec league and it's pretty neat to see the effect being on a competition team has had on him. He usually plays striker or goalie and has a real aggressive edge now. In one game he started as a striker and had scored two goals in less than 90 seconds! Parker and Alex aren't a whit behind him in their team. Parker is turning out to be a fantastic goalie and is one of the fastest on the team and Alex is an absolute rock as the center midfielder. He frequently charges in to a group of older boys, only to pop out a moment later still with the ball! What's really fun is that he's still shorter than most household insects. Go Sharkbait!

To explain today's title, let me just remind our readers that many years ago my family was cursed by a gypsy and ever since weirdness has shadowed my home like a storm cloud.

Alex is a complete ham when he gets an audience and gets never-ending amusement from his own jokes. Oftentimes I have found him in the bathroom making faces or singing, or once standing on the toilet seat with nothing but a towell wrapped around his head like a big yellow turban. Not sure about terrorist material but it was certainly terrifying to walk in on. I digress. The other night he came out to tell us goodnight wearing a pair of transformer pajamas and every pair of underwear he owns. On the outside of his pajamas. Ridiculous doesn't even BEGIN to capture it. What's more, he pretended like everything was normal. So I told him that with that much padding he wouldn't even feel it if he got kicked in the, well, the area usually protected by underwear. Josh, being the exemplar older brother volunteered to test the theory with his overly large nerf axe. Alex challenged him and stood there, arms crossed, legs spread in defiance. It didn't quite work as well as I thought it would. So while he is rolling around on the floor in pain Marcus snuck up behind Josh wearing his batman mask. That didn't turn out so well for batman. So today Batman tried a new weapon, the rubber snake bat-whip. It worked great until he whapped himself in the head with it. I should have taken a picture because it's not often you see Batman cry, especially after he hurts himself using his own weapons.

In other news, Marcus has become the official treasurer of the Johnson household. He accomplishes this by taking things that he believes are valuable and hiding them in his "secret spots" located all over the house. The other day I couldn't find my ipod and looked everywhere for it. Sure enough Marcus had taken it "to keep it safe Daddy" and hidden it in a spot between the couch cushions that I didn't even know existed.

Other than that, everything is going great. We're excited for Halloween and will begin celebrating this weekend! Woohoo!

Cheaper by the Dozen

2010-08-13T19:32:00.000-07:00

Greeting Boneheads! As always, it's been too long since I wrote in this and I have no excuses. At least none that fit real well. Life has been great though and everyone is happy, healthy, and nuts. So let's talk about today's title. Now, if you’re talking about the latest sale at Walmart on soda, or Dunkin Donuts, then yes the above statement is true. But if you happen to be talking about how many boys are going to sleep over at your home then no, it is not true. In the slightest. Here’s the equation: 1boy x 1birthday = 8 boys. Further, 8 boys + 3 left out brothers = 2 more sleepovers. To any of you who have children you will understand this equation immediately. For those of you who do not yet have kids, I pity you. To truly understand the equation though, you must understand the Law of Chaos/Catastrophe which states: The number of catastrophes and the amount of chaos generated by one boy multiplies by 20 when that boy comes within proximity of other boys. Throw some sugar in the mix and yeh’ve got yerself a real hootenanny! Speaking of a herd of boys, I wonder if there is an actual name for a group of boys. A gaggle? A peck? A murder? A pride? Hmmm. How about A catastrophe of boys. Yes, that works well.

So far, the party has only been in full swing for about 30 minutes and already we had our first catastrophe. Let me explain. We have a trampoline in our backyard which we sank into the ground (for safety). Well, I went to see what the Catastrophe of boys were up to and arrived in time to see 8 of them all standing around the outside of the trampoline. Then someone yelled “Jump!” I thought, “how fun, this should be good” until I saw the huge pile of gravel they had piled in the center of the mat. At that moment my life went into slow motion as I watched, helplessly as thousands of tiny rocks exploded into the air and then … into the lawn only to be found the next time I mow it. Sigh. So in a moment of rare control I asked Alex if the next time he had a really cool idea like that if he would tell me BEFORE he did it. Double sigh.

Other than that, we just returned from a 2 week road trip to Indiana, and you can expect a photo essay on that experience. Suffice it to say that we are already planning another one!

The Great Missionary Olympics

2010-06-15T21:36:00.000-07:00

Greetings fellow Boneheads!

A wonderfully warm and woefully waffle-less welcome to you all. The weather has been weird for a while, we've had wind whipping things up for weeks and weeks. Okay okay enough with the "W" thing, I was just curious to see if I could make something sensible. Almost worked. Way cool.

The topic today is Missionary Olympics. Now, anyone who knows us knows that we have 4 boys and having 4 Latter-Day Saint boys means that in the not-so-distant future there will be 4 Elder Johnson's running around the globe over the span of 8 years. For any of you who aren't familiar with what it takes to be a missionary, it's incredibly challenging. We pay our own way to serve somewhere not of our choosing for two years. We don't hold a job, date, go to school or anything else during that time. We write home every week and talk to our folks on Christmas and Mother's Day. Father's Day gets the boot for some reason. We have to cook for ourselves, do our own laundry, keep schedules, be able to ride a bike through the rain in a suit and everything else. We want our boys to be prepared...

Scene shift: Family night. We told the boys that we were going to have missionary olympics and came up with 12 different events to compete in. The boys split up into companionships and rolled a set of dice to determine what events they would have to compete in. Hilarity ensued. The first event was the "Eat Something New and Say 'Thank You'" event. The something new? Cottage Cheese. Now all the boys had to do was eat a very small bowl of the stuff. The timer kept track of how long it took them too finish and say "thank you". Here's how it went:

Josh and Parker were the competing missionaries. They both sat down and I shouted, "GO!" Each boy shoved a spoonful of Cottage Cheese in his mouth and as though they had practiced for months, each boy spit their something new all over the table, cursing, gagging, spitting, and fighting for the first chance at the sink for a glass of water. Results? Absolute and complete failure. How on earth is anyone supposed to feed them when they reenact the longest death scene in movie history every time they don't like something?

Another event dealt with precision bike riding through 10 cones that were set up in the road. The boys had to ride through them, ring the end cone and come back. Well, everything was set up and Parker was about to test his mettle when from down the street came the UPS man. (insert dramatic musical tags here). All the boys cleared the road but the driver, seeing orange cones in the road must have felt that he was being tested and commenced trying to navigate the cones, pumping his fist in the air as he rambled by. I'm sure a bunch of people wondered why their stuff was all broken the next day. :)The boys ended up doing great riding their bikes while Marcus rode his official missionary wiggle racer.

Other events included writing a letter and mailing it, writing out a check, putting on a suit the fastest, packing a suitcase, and making up a one minute church talk based on an object they pulled out of a hat. They had a great time and Neish and I will pray that they never have to eat Cottage Cheese.

Well that's the news that's fit to print so until next time, wear a winning smile. It makes people wonder what you're thinking.

Love, the Johnsons

Parental Bribery and a Lesson in Honesty

2010-03-14T10:28:00.000-07:00

Man I love that title! No better way to start off a post than a healthy dose of conflicting values! So to start, let me be honest: There is no excuse for the deplorable laziness in my posting. I could say that in addition to work I'm back in grad school and coaching two competition soccer league teams but that would be an excuse. A good one, but still. I'm just saying. :)

Let's start with the soccer. One night over too much pizza and rootbeer I got talking with Neisha and some friends about how there isn't any soccer for our middle school kids and that that was probably the reason our high school soccer team was lousy. One thing led to another and I found myself along with 3 other dads holding tryouts for the first ever Page competition soccer league. What was I thinking!? To adequately describe my feelings about this realization let me use a comparison. Imagine, if you will, jumping off the golden gate bridge holding an umbrella because you saw someone do it once on youtube and thought "I could totally do that! That's easy!" And then, after leaving the safety of the bridge you have a moment of pure revelation. A moment when the world and the meaning of life is absolutely clear and you say, "I'm not sure this was such a good idea." that about sums up how I feel. The kids are really great though and they have even won a few games in the So. Utah RCL League. Josh is playing on one team and is really loving the game. Everyone still calls him Weasel and he's kind of become a rallying point for the team. Good times.

Now onto jusiness! (pronounced: weezness. Spanish for 'Business' I think). Right now Alex and Marcus the Amazing are cleaning their room in record time and they are laughing and having fun. Impossible you say? Well, not when you use the power of parental bribery! Some of you may not agree with this tactic. If so, you either don't have children or you have only one child or your children don't possess the psychic power of telekinesis in which they can just walk into a room, raise their arms and have everything they own suddenly fly onto the floor all by themselves. My kids have this power. Just ask them.
"Alex, how did your room get like this? It's destroyed! I just cleaned it 5 minutes ago!"
"I don't know mom, all my stuff just got on the floor by itself."
Bingo. Anyway, if you're like me once in a while you just get tired of the pleadings, the demands, the consequences, the threats of 3rd world slavery and you bribe your kids. The bribe? I hid a handful of change in their room throughout the mess and told them so. 10 minutes later, clean room. No fuss, no muss. Currently Marcus is "fsssshh"-ing around the house in his batman costume. He also ran up to me and looked me in the eye and yelled, "BURN!" Either he is referring to Superman's ability to melt things with lazer eyes or else he's practicing his power of pyrokinesis (see above). I think my forehead feels warm.

One last mentionable. We always do our best to teach the kids honesty in everything they do and the other night my 8 year old Alex took a huge step toward becoming a man. Now I don't share this so that anyone will think us great parents because we make all the same mistakes as anyone else. I share this because someday Alex will read it and I want him to remember how proud I am of him. We have a rule that if someone hurts you and you get really angry about it and retaliate out of anger that you spend the rest of your day in your room. Kind of harsh but an important lesson to learn given the lack of adults who can actually do this. Anyway, I'm in the kitchen when I hear Alex yell "Ow Marcus!" and then a moment later hear Marcus begin wailing. Alex came out to the kitchen and here is the conversation as close as I can remember it:
Alex: "Marcus pulled my hair"
Dad: "I'm sorry. I'll bet that hurt. Is that why Marcus is crying?"
"I kind of freaked out."
"What did you do?"
"I picked him up and threw him on the bed."
"Was Marcus angry when he pulled your hair?"
"No."
"Were you angry when you threw him down?"
- Now here was the critical moment. He knows the consequence for retaliation in anger. He could lie and say that he was just wrestling and I would have believed him. He hates to be stuck in his room. I watched his little shoulders slump and he started to cry a little bit and then finally, in a barely audible voice he said, "yeah I guess so."

It was my turn to cry then. I couldn't help it. He chose to be honest when choosing it was most difficult. It was enough for me. I got down next to him looked him in the eye and said, "Alex you know the consequence for this don't you?" He nodded, crying. "Well, you were honest anyway. You could have lied but you didn't. You did what needed to be done and that is what it means to be a man. I think we're square on this one." After he left I sat by myself for a while awestruck at how much I still have to learn from my kids.

Well that's all the news that's fit to print so until next time remember that life only comes around once. Make the most of it.

Love, The Johnsons

Master Pu Meets the Boneheads

2010-01-04T18:12:00.000-08:00

Happy New Years! I have officially begun my resolution, but due to their high potential for failure I'm not telling what they are. If, by the end of the year I keep them I will reveal all then. In the meantime, enjoy the blog.

New Year's Eve was a great party at our house--we had every kind of snack food imaginable, 4 children doped up on sugar until they were literally vibrating across the floor, Wii competitions, Dance-Dance competitions, movies, and two cats. At midnight we had to blow horns outside until we were sure the neighbors (3 blocks away) knew what time it was and then called it quits. Good times, good times. After two weeks of completely non-structured vacation, it was real interesting to watch the boys get ready for school :)

As for the title, it all started when I took a stupid quiz on facebook which allowed me to discover my Egyptian God name. Cautiously I typed in my name and birthdate, and, after answering that blisteringly long questionnaire I was rewarded with my true God name. It is way cool and historically accurate! I can't wait to tell the fam!

Scene shift, Dad and the family having dinner.
"Well family, I want to share something with you that I discovered today, something that I think you need to remember."
"Do we get candy?" asked Alex.
"No, you get to call me by my Egyptian God name..." I paused to give it effect. The boys and Neish stopped eating, waiting for me to reveal what was sure to be the shocker of the year. With my best Tony the Tiger voice I boomed, "Reshpu, God of War and Thunder!"

The reaction was immediate and completely wrong. Amidst the gales of laughter, my four year-old said, "Dad's name is Thunder Poo!" Oh no. Game over. The damage was done. You see, once the word "poo" is mentioned in a house of 4 boys even the most sacred discussions are over. Not wanting to be outdone by a bunch of boys, my sophisticated delightful wife said, "Hey boys I got one. He's got a Master's Degree and his name is poo. Let's call him Master Pu!" Thanks honey, that's tender. In one fell swoop, my God-status had been reduced to poop. 'Sigh'

Now I told you that story to tell you this. Tonight at family home evening I was going to give a lesson on gratitude, a precursor to asking our boys to write thank-you notes to everyone who gave them a Christmas present. Well, as I was trying to get their attention, Alex the comic says, "Everyone listen! My dum-dum wants to speak!" This is how the rest of that went:
Marcus: Dum-ditty-dum-ditty dum-dum-dum!
Alex: Speak mighty dum dum!
Marcus: Dum-ditty-dum-ditty dum-dum-dum!
Neisha: He's not dumb, he's Master Pu!
Marcus: Dum-ditty-dum-ditty dum-dum-poo! Ha!

That's all the news I can bear to write so until next time, stay away from Facebook! It's evil!

Have Presents Will Travel

2009-12-21T21:55:00.000-08:00

Happy Bonehead Holidays!

It's almost here. Christmas. What a wonderful time of year! In true Johnson style we didn't send out any Christmas cards this year, so if you didn't get one don't feel rejected. In fact, most of the people that read this didn't send us one either so don't feel guilty. :)

Life at the Bonehead Ranch is still as exciting as ever. School is out and the kids have taken a page from the union thugs and gone on strike, refusing to do work. Maybe we'll do the same thing and when they wonder where dinner is, we'll say that we're on strike. That should end negotiations quite amiably.

This year we're traveling to Neisha's parents' house for Christmas, which requires us to take our presents so the kid have something to open while there. Ok, let's do a little bit-o-math here:

2 Parents + 4 children + 4 or 5 presents each + luggage for 5 days + one minivan = interesting. Now I'm not the world's greatest packing expert but I'm fairly adept at making things work and I'm thinking to myself "Self, why?" "How?" "Who am I trying to kid?" We don't even have one of those roof rack containers! After mulling it over for a week, I've decided to first place the children in their seats and hook up the catheters. Second, put in the luggage. 3rd, pack the presents. In the event we actually had to stop, the children would have to be level 4 yoga masters to be able to get out. We'll try to take some pix of the event and post them here.

The other little bit of news is the Christmas village. It took me longer than expected to make it but here are a few shots. Merry Christmas everyone!

Love, Team Johnson

Holding on to the Magic

2009-12-11T10:34:00.000-08:00

Greetings fellow Boneheads! It is c-c-c-cold here! And to make things worse we don't even get the privilege of having any snow! I mean, at least if we're going to suffer we should at least be able to throw snowballs at people! Life is good. In the kid department, Marcus, aka "Spiderman" or "Whiney-2000" has reached new heights in both his ability to perform death-defying feats of sheer stupidity and his ability to mimic the most annoying sound on earth. Those of you who know this precocious 4 year old know that it is not unheard of to find him on top of things. Things like the van, my car, the bookshelf, sinks, etc. Well he recently learned how to #1 do backflips and #2 do front flips onto our bed. Wait for it... from the floor. How exactly does a child manage to do a front flip onto a bed that is as tall as he is? I haven't the foggiest. I decided to try the experiment out myself and went out to our 6ft tall wall, took a good run at it and tried to do a front flip over it. It's not as easy as it looks, ladies and gentlemen. He also has learned long, drawn out whining is not as effective as the car alarm approach. That's where he wants mom and starts shouting, "Mom!" "Mom!" "Mom!" over and over again like a car horn going off. He also occasionally yells, "What the crap!" which is a post for another day.

The title of today's edition is on a more sentimental note though, and one I've been putting off writing. As you all know, Christmas time is a time of magic. Freshly fallen snow, catching snowflakes on your tongue, the sound of sleigh bells, Hymns being sung, all create "the Most Wonderful Time of the Year". But as children grow older, the magic slowly fades. Last year at this time 3 of our 4 boys were absolutely convinced that Santa came every year and that elves were sneaking around our Christmas tree checking on presents and throwing elf dust around for the kids to find. The belief of a child is so wonderful. It is like the warmth of a fire after you've been outside in the snow. It both fills and surrounds you. Well, this past year 2 more of our boys asked the big question about Santa and we told them. They are not as excited about Christmas as they were last year. At least not for the same reasons. So we are down to one and even though I know the real reason we celebrate Christmas, I find myself desperately holding onto that magic in him. We watch Rudolph and I answer his questions every day about how "far Christmas is", and when we sit like statues by the tree watching for elves, sometimes I almost think I can see one too.

The Photo Edition

2009-11-08T16:29:00.000-08:00

Hallow Boneheads!

Due to the many pictures I'm posting this will be a pretty short post. I'll try to give a bit-o-commentary as we go.

Okay! First things first, Halloween. Anyone who knows us knows that Halloween is our favorite holiday, enough so that we're willing to drive 7 hours to be with family when it happens. Granted, Page sucks when it comes to Halloween (the city actually ENDS Halloween at 6pm) so we just leave and go have fun elsewhere. This year we went to Hee Haw farms and no, I didn't see any joke-telling banjo players. Speaking of Hee Haw though,What do they call "Hee Haw" in Arkansas?

A documentary.

What do they call it in Kentucky?

Life Styles of the Rich & Famous.

Had to throw those in there. Anyway, here are some pix of the kids who ran around a small zoo terrorizing chickens and ducks. They actually caught some and Alex put his captive to sleep!

Next we spent Halloween rigging up a spook alley in my sister's back yard. It was pretty amazing but unfortunately I don't have any pix of it. I do have a photo of the coffin in which Dracula would lie in wait, preying on unsuspecting trick or treaters. The kids would have to knock on the coffin lid and Dracula (aka Alex) would say, "Who dares wake me from my slumber!" and then kids got to dig around in the coffin for goodies. What's different about THIS Dracula is that when he arose from his eternal slumber he was often spotted eating a PBJ sandwich and had to curse people between mouthfuls.

Here are the kids:

And last but not least, the village. It's my hobby, and I had some fun this year creating a landscape display for it. Enjoy!

The Non-DNA Sports Gene

2009-09-27T21:08:00.000-07:00

Great Galloping Hornytoads, it's nearly October! And at the Bonehead ranch that means we'd better decorate for Halloween! It's true my family endures a lot of curious questions about my sanity around this time of year but oh well, you only live life once. And speaking of living life once, I used to want to only eat natural foods until I learned that most people die of natural causes. Burger King for all!

Well, to get right to the point of today's edition, I have four boys who love soccer. They love flag football. They love baseball. They love competition of any kind. And not only that, but they are all really good at them. Right now soccer is going on and Josh Parker and Alex are all top players on their teams. Saturday was the Northern Arizona Middle School Soccer Tournament and Josh's team took 3rd overall. Now the neat thing about that is that In game 2 Josh scored 2 goals to end the game at a tie and in the 3rd game scored the only goal of the game to win for us. He got a plaque. Parker and Alex are right on his tail in their leagues. Parker is becoming a very aggressive goalie and Alex a solid half-back.
How did they learn this? People say it is in the genes. Well if that's true than I'd better do my family history because it ain't from me that's for sure! Allow me to explain. My earliest sporty memories are of elementary school "Red Rover" or "Kick Ball" teams and how much people fought over me..
"You take him!"
"No way, you take him!"
"We don't want him so you get him!"
"We got stuck with him last time!"
"So? Take him again!"
There actually was one game where I was always chosen first; Smear the Queer. This is a game where you give one guy a football and tell him to run and then the other 49 guys run after him and try to tackle the bejeezus out of him. It was so great to be in demand back then. Needless to say that did a lot for my desire to play public sports and so I never did.
So where did my kids get it? Could it be that there is a gene somewhere in my DNA that would explain my kids' talents? Nope. I just asked Neisha if she was sporty growing up and she said, "Yep, I was always playing sports. In fact at recess I never played with the girls. I was always playing soccer and football with the boys." Dang, I was hoping there.
I'll tell you though, there's nothing quite so great as witnessing your son do something great and seeing him being congratulated by his teammates.

And maybe this is a bit on the warm and fuzzy side, but in the game of life your teammates are your family and when one of your kids makes a great play don't forget to congratulate them.

Love the Johnsons

Through the Eyes of a Child

2009-09-18T19:35:00.000-07:00

Hello and welcome to September!!!
For all you boneheads across what is left of our free country we are enjoying soccer season. 4 boys, 3 teams, 2 parents, 1 bottle of Alieve. That about sums it up. Actually they are all doing great and are star players on their teams! (insert proud dad look here). Of course, as dad is out there sweating and coaching them on and working with them, the first thing they do when they see you and their mother at the game is to say "Hi Mom!" Oh well.

The purpose of this entry is to bring attention to a rare moment in parenting; catching a glimpse of life through your child's eyes. Now sometimes you have a child like Marcus who likes to tell you EVERYTHING on his mind over and over again. All day. This gets annoying. And then he tells you everything that SHOULD BE on your mind. Stuff like sharing your candy, giving him money, giving him your gum, buying him toys, etc. And then there is Josh. Josh is entering that gauntlet of life from which no boy returns. He has become somewhat secretive and quiet. He broods. But he doesn't say a whole lot about what his little pre-pubescent mind is thinking. Well stop the press! I happened to be on the computer today and ran across this little gem. After reading it though I wonder if I need to laugh and tell him what a great writer he is, or put him in his room. :) Read on...

How to torture your little brothers

Have you ever felt angry or annoyed? Well, here’s the answer to your problem: torture your brothers! This is a fail-safe way to get you back in shape. There are several ways to torture your little brothers. Today I will explain three of them.

The first method is to do something to your brothers (like poke them). If they tell you to stop after a while, then you’re doing well. After they say, “stop” you keep doing it until they either go tell your parents or until you think you’ve done enough. If they tell your parents and you get sent to your room, start doing it again when you come out. Keep doing this till they start crying. Then you start laughing like you think it’s really funny. When they run off crying your work is done.

Another way is to take their stuff and then show it to them. When they say “give it back its mine” run around for a while then throw it out the front door. Keep doing this until you feel better or you get sent to your room 3 times. After that stop or else risk big punishment. This technique is something I’ve used many times. It works very well.

The last way to torture them is to call them a name. If one of your brothers has a name they hate people to call them start calling them that name. When they start crying, stop. When your parents ask you if you called them that name, you say yes. If you do that they will get very mad or frustrated. On the way to your room, call them the name one more time for effect.

These methods are not advisable unless you’re really angry or annoyed that day. Even then be cautious because you might get into bigger trouble than you thought. This essay was written from experience. All of the methods are genuine and do work. Happy Torturing.

What else can I say? Happy torturing!

Lessons Learned from Dad: Snow Removal

2009-08-10T22:19:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Dog Days of August!

Man it's hot. Hot and dry. I don't know why its called the "dog days" of August, because even the dogs don't like it, but maybe it is because everyone just wants to lay low out of the way until things cool off. School starts for the boys tomorrow and that means the kids will be filing into school like a funeral procession and the parents will be doing cartwheels on the lawns.

On the home front the biggest piece of news is that Alex got baptized. It's official, and he has taken it really seriously. While there he did tell me that he remembered to wear white underwear so people wouldn't see batman through his baptismal suit. Good thinking, buddy. It was a wonderful experience for everyone there and I know he felt the spirit strongly. Parker was a great mentor for him, showing him where to go and how to stand and talked to him a lot about his own baptism. I didn't know Parker remembered that much about his.

Well, I suppose I should get to the title of today's Lesson from Dad. Before I do this though, I have to say that probably the biggest lesson I've learned from my dad is that he loves me and is always there for me when and if I need him. Not too many people can say that. I know a lot of people who actually go out of their way to avoid their parents. That's hard for me to understand. It is so painfully obvious that life's greatest happiness comes from family and while there is a lot of humorous things I remember I also remember a lot of joy and fun. So with that in mind let's learn about snow removal.

There are times when a father’s lack of knowledge in exactly how to get something done results in some interesting improvisation. Some of those improvised techniques actually become really useful inventions. Like bifocals. Ben Franklin had poor vision and needed glasses to read. He got tired of constantly taking off his seeing glasses and putting on his reading glasses, then putting the other pair back on, so he decided to figure out a way to make his glasses let him see both near and far. He had two pairs of spectacles cut in half and put half of each lens in a single frame. Thomas Edison invented the incandescent light bulb and the phonograph. My father falls into that noble category of men who changed their world with their ideas. Ideas like the snow-remover. As a child I grew up in Northern Utah and during the winter we saw lots of snow. And often the snow would pile up so high on the roofs of houses that some roofs caved in. Every year my dad would get the ladder and hike up on top of the house with his shovel or sno-blower and go to work.

Well one year he got the idea that it might be easier if he didn’t have to get on the roof to get the snow off, So he disappeared for a few hours into the workshop. The “Workshop” was a pack rats dream. There were cabinets full of wire of every color and size. The smell they produced was magical. There were a hundred little drawers containing everything from ancient transistors to knobs for stereo equipment. There was a great workbench littered with bits of solder, tools, wood, and knick knacks that spanned several decades. And in one corner there was (and still is) a large locker that contains a homemade intercom system. He created an intercom system for our house before America really knew what they were. And he built it from stuff he had laying around! Stuff like a dial-up phone switchboard. (I wasn't kidding about the pack=rat thing.) Anyway, perplexed about the amount of snow on the house he entered the workshop and came out a couple hours later carrying what looked like a 15ft long PVC pipe attached to a 4ft wide washer blade on one end. He then grabbed about 10ft of visqueen, attached it to the back of the wiper blade and grabbed us kids to come out and watch his new invention. Actually I think this might have been the day when he learned that it is best to be alone when you are experimenting.
“Ok kids, I think this is going to work great. You just stick the end of the pole into the snow and the snow slides harmlessly off the back of the visqueen like this!” It all happened so fast. One moment he was jabbing a well-aimed pole into the snow and the next he was gone. Buried, just like that. The good news is that the thing worked really well.

Stay tuned for more Lessons from Dad!

Lessons Learned from Dad: The Geyser

2009-07-19T20:39:00.000-07:00

Greetings Bonehead Faithfuls!

It's been a hot, hot week here in Arizona. In fact, Satan moved in next door and told us he's been looking for a little property for when it gets cold in hell. As far as the kid report is concerned, Parker gave a talk in church last week. He is only 9 but he asked the Bishop if he could give a talk on faith. How do you say no that face? So there he was in front of the whole congregation and talking about faith. For about 10 minutes. I was having a HUGE proud dad moment. What an amazing kid. The rest of the crew is doing well and keeping Neish and I on our toes. The boys have recently concocted a money making idea, namely to rent themselves out for yard work under the title of "Lawn Ninjas Inc." They have a flyer and everything. I'll try to post one if I figure out how. Well, enough banter, on to business!

Dads know everything. At least we're supposed to. No matter what the emergency dads are supposed to know exactly how to fix it. In becoming a dad I have discovered something both valuable and terrifying: Dads do not know everything! But I can't tell my kids that so I do what every dad has done before; I make crud up. When I shock myself I tell them that I needed to check how strong the current was. When I break the tent pole while trying to shove it into the ring-pin, I tell them "They don't make em like they used to!" Stuff like that. After a recent incident involving my remote controlled helicopter and an insane idea that flying it in the wind might be really cool, he told me "When you're experimenting it's best to do it when no one is home." That's some good wisdom there. It would save a lot of explaining. Mostly because I'd have a chance to clean up before anyone saw what happened. Like the time I accidentally set off a rather large artillery shell firework in the garage. Whew! That was exciting! I hope my dad isn't following my blog.

But it's really my dad who instilled in me the notion of experimenting with the world and learning new stuff, and making up stuff about what you didn't know. Allow me to explain. Dads want you to try things that will "toughen you up" (the reason they give you when you get hurt doing what it was they thought you should do). With that in mind let's remember the lesson of the geyser.

We have a cabin in Yellowstone National Park and as children spent some time there every summer. One of our favorite things to see each year was Old Faithful. Its uncanny ability to go off each hour or so was awesome. When visiting the geysers my dad would explain where all that hot water came from and not to go near it unless we wanted to end up looking like a cooked macaroni noodle. One time after visiting the park we asked mom and dad if we could go swimming. Dad drove around a while and eventually saw a small waterfall and pool off the side of the road. Excellent. "A perfect spot!" says my Father. We piled out of the car and hiked down the trail to the edge of the pool. Then came the sixty-four dollar question: "Is it cold?" His answer to us trusting, innocent, pure children was "No! It's completely warm. This water's straight from the geyser!" Well we all knew that geysers were way hot and so having the river mix with the geyser water would make it perfect. The three of us lined up on the side of the pool, counted to three and jumped.

Remember what I said earlier about dads not knowing everything? Yeah, this was one of those times. It took approximately .003 seconds for our nervous system to tell us that my dad was a git. At about .007 seconds our nervous system told us if we didn't get out of that pool right now we'd turned into popsicles. Needless to say my dad feigned complete surprise that the water was anything but warm (a ruse he continues to this day) and we spent the rest of the day huddled in blankets trying to keep our toes from falling off.

That's all the news that's fit to print so stay tuned next time for the tale of The Very Strong Lid.

Lessons Learned from Dad: Road Safety!

2009-07-14T21:09:00.000-07:00

Hey Everybody!
It's update time and with it another wisdom filled episode in the "Lessons Learned From Dad" saga! But first the news...

We've recently returned from a 4 DAY LONG FAMILY REUNION. Neisha will say, "Isn't that awesome!" I will say, well I won't say anything because I'd get in trouble. But I survived and am still alive to write in the blog! Anyway, we're back to almost normal which is about two levels beneath insanity :)

And now, another lesson learned from dad.

Fathers are great. Never has there been a creature so willing to go through so much in order to teach a simple lesson. For example when my dad showed us kids the importance of not playing in the road.

There comes a time when every child must learn not to run out into the street. There are real dangers out there! Not the least of which was my dad attempting to teach us the danger of playing in it. Poor laundry basket. (Allow me to explain).
One day we kids were out playing in the yard and my dad walks up carrying a wicker laundry basket and says, "C'mon kids I'm going to teach you a valuable lesson." Now if you know my dad then you'll know that when he says "C'mon kids I'm going to teach you a valuable lesson" that two things are going to happen: #1, you will most likely witness something that is about to go horribly wrong and #2, it will most likely involve electricity, cars, or tools, and usually results in pain (see The Lesson Of the Crank Washer).

Today's lesson took place in 1982 and involved the Blue Goose (our family car which was a 68 Bel Air Chevy and closely resembled a tank with blue paint on it), a wicker laundry basket, and a serious amount of overkill. He began by telling us that "playing in the road was really dangerous and if a car were to hit us we could be killed." Not wanting to leave it at that he said, "Kids, it's really important that you know this so I'm going to show what would happen were you to be hit by a car." Then, taking the laundry basket he placed it in the road and said, "Kids, pretend this is you. I'll be right back." he then got in the tank and drove off down the road out of sight.

There we stood at the side of the road wondering why we were pretending to be moms laundry basket. Odd. Then, from off in the distance we hear the unmistakable roar of a fast approaching, large engined tank that sounded a lot like the Blue Goose. We looked down the road and sure enough, dad was racing toward us with a crazed "I've always wanted to do this!" look in his eye.
"Is he going to run over mom's laundry basket?" my brother asked. The answer came about two seconds later as dad, reaching flux capacitor speed slammed into mom's wicker laundry basket with the force of a train. Words cannot describe the look of utter shock on our faces as mom's favorite, I might add, laundry basket was turned into a handful of wicker toothpicks. A minute later dad came back, rolled down the window and said "So never play in the road ok?" I think we spent the next six months hiding in the basement. In the corner. Behind the boxes of Pop Shoppe Pop. You know, I never did find out how my dad explained the whole thing to my mom. I can just imagine the conversation now:
"Hi Honey! Hey a, remember that laundry basket you used to have?"
"What do you mean 'used' to have? Yes, I still remember it. It's my nicest one. What have you done to it?"
"Who me? Well, nothing really. It was mostly the car. Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?"
"Lou, Where is my laundry basket?"
"Ah, it kind of broke. You see I was teaching the kids about road safety and I wanted to show them what would happen to them if a car actually hit them and well, I couldn't very well run one of them over so I had to find something similar."
"Are you trying to tell me that you used my NICEST laundry basket as a crash test dummy!"
The rest of that conversation would probably not have been g-rated so I'll stop there. And you know, as weird as that whole thing was we all still remember not to play in the road.

Follow up 2009: in the spirit of trying to be a good parent I told my kids about it hoping to instill in them a healthy respect for the road. Their response? "Awesome! Let's run over all the laundry baskets!" sigh.

Let the Blind Receive Their Sight!

2009-06-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

Time to update the ol' family Blog and what an update we have! But first, the Obama minute:

Obama was recently reported to have taken his wife out on a "date night". Excellent. It is important to take time off from the overwhelming responsibility of telling the world what a horrible country we live in. The date was a raging success. Michelle Obama said it was "a wonderful evening". Well, for $22,000.00 it better be a wonderful evening! So my question is, was it the dinner and a movie that made it wonderful or the fact that the $22,000.00 was tax payer money? On a side note, don't you think that for 22K you might be able to do something more creative than dinner and a show?

Back to the update...The boys all took first place in their division for baseball and are proud to have their trophies. It seems they are quite talented in many sports. Including the time-honored, traditional Johnson sport of--Dad Pounding. Yes, it's been happening for years. I'm sure I'm not the only dad whose neck and back have been permanently disfigured by their sons. My pain story starts way back with Josh as a strapping young 4 year old Jump Bonk Jedi whose favorite game was "Kill the Dad Dragon". This progressed through the stages of Dad Whacking, Ninja Neck Jumping, and finally Get the Evil Geezer where I pretty much lay on the floor and pretend to be dead in the hopes that they'll lose interest and just go away. Alex and I were wrestling yesterday (I got a coupon from him on Father's Day to do this), and I had him in a good tickle hold. At this point he yelled, "Dad stop it! I'm gonna pee!" At this point I don't know if he's faking it or really serious so I let him up and off he goes to my bathroom. This is where it gets funny. This is what I hear:
[toilet flush] "Dang it! I wasted it!" Alex appears looking frustrated.
"Wasted what?" I ask.
"My special power" replies Alex. Ok. He was just in the bathroom. He did something bathroomy in there and now he's upset that he wasted his "special power". I'm totally torn between morbid curiosity and TMI.
"Uh, what 'special power' are ya referring to there Alex?" - Curiosity won out.
"My toot!" Alex says with all the exasperation he can muster. "I was saving that!"

The other big of news concerns my oldest son, Blind Boy Casey. Neisha took him into the eye doctor. After enlarging the letters to roughly the size of a car, Josh proudly announced, "It's a black thing!" Needless to say he failed the eye exam and needs glasses. So we got some contacts. After he put them in it was like he was seeing for the first time. "Mom, this is totally cool! I can read the medical labels on the files!" "Wow! Mom, I can read that sign! I didn't even know those words existed!" "Hey Mom, look at the playground! I can actually see stuff. Before it was just like colorful blobs!" Now before you call us bad parents for not noticing this, there wasn't anything to notice. Josh told us he's been seeing that badly for years but thought he'd just grow out of it. It never affected his schooling either. Oh well. He's loving life now and is currently sitting outside enjoying clouds. Life is good.

So until next time, enjoy sight. And next time you pull up to the drive-through bank window, ask them why they have braille in the drive up stall.

Lessons learned from Dad: Hammer Toe

2009-06-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

A June welcome to everyone across the until recently fruited plains! I recently went to pick up my government cheese but couldn't fit it in my government car. Oh well. I did find a use for the car, though. I attached a spinning blade to the bottom of it and can use it to mow my lawn now! Talk about green!

Anyway, life with Team Johnson is great guns as usual. We are all slaving away in the backyard to make it habitable and have decided that weeds look a lot like grass. :) But enough banter! On with today's title:

This is one of my childrens favorite stories to hear. It usually starts out like this: "Dad tell us about the time you whacked yourself on the foot with a hammer on purpose!"
"Well", I say, "it wasn't really my fault." This is one I those stories where I wish there was actually a point or a profound lesson to be learned but no. The lesson is pretty much don't do stupid stuff. And that lesson glares at me more and more every time the kids make me tell the story. As a young child I went to the doctor to have a surgery done on my big toe and the doctor shot my foot up with Novacaine (not to be confused with Michaelcaine). I couldn't feel a thing. It was pretty cool. To a 10 year old, having a numb toe is like a whole new world. Well when I got home I accidentally kicked the door with said toe and didn't feel a thing! Way cool! No pain!

Now, as a young child I began to wonder about this new phenomenon. "I wonder if it would hurt if I..." and that ultimately was my downfall. By now you have all probably come to the conclusion that I actually hit myself on the toe with a hammer. I've never understood what makes a kid think this way, how they can go from a rational thought like "Hey this cape makes me look like Superman" to "I'll bet I can jump off the roof and fly!" but it happens. And no I didn't jump off the roof! It was the trampoline and it was really windy. So there. Kids just have a way of taking a great thing like imagination and then doing it. How else could I explain my children's behavior? What else but imagination would make my oldest son create rain by using cat litter? What else but imagination would make a child decide while in the tub to bite his younger brother and then blame it on a rubber shark?

Needless to say after whacking my toe several times and experiencing the awesome power of no pain I went on with my day. Until the novacaine wore off. Owie! Well, stay tuned for more fun with Lessons Learned from Dad!

The Best Dating Advice. Ever.

2009-05-17T15:09:00.000-07:00

Well it is time for me to write something happy in the old family blog and get the Bamster's new youth army out of there. Yeech. Life at the ranch is great. The kids are all playing baseball and having fun with it, the sprinklers are watering most of what they're supposed to, and the trees are a bloomin. To catch you up on landscaping adventures I am learning how to lay flagstone (how not to lay it more like) and how to pull out weeds. Man I love that! There's nothing quite like the satisfaction of having been so successful at growing them.

Neisha and I were recently spotted in the ballet production of Sleeping Beauty where we played courtiers and later a prince. It ended up being kind of fun. No I didn't wear tights and no mom, I'm not gay. Sheesh.

Now on to the title. As some of you know, Josh is 12 and on the brink of entering the age of unbelievable. As much as we've tried to parent the alien out of him we're noticing irregular bulges in his stomach region and a strange murky odor that seems to seep from his room. While driving around the other day he gave some of the greatest dating advice I've ever heard. Yes I know he's only 12 and won't date until he's 16 but that's ok. I'm writing it down now for posterity sake. While in the car he pointed to the Christmas Tree air freshner and said to mom, "Mom someday when I need cologne I can just hang one of those around my neck!"
Mom: (through near uncontrollable laughter) I can just see you with a 'smell' necklace.
Josh: I wouldn't wear it on the outside of my shirt, I'd put it on the inside!"
Mom: (Through totally uncontrollable laughter) I just love you Josh, you're so great.
Josh: Well, it smells like cologne...

Yep, that's my son. Mr. Vanilla-roma. His other dating advice was around the subject of what to feed your date. Josh said his idea of a creative date was to have a dinner where he put real bugs in the brownies. It would add a little crunch and his date would likely never know. It would be highly entertaining....for him. Mom said he'd better date someone he didn't like very much. Josh said, "Why?" Now why is this such great advice? Because if he follows it, it should nicely guarantee that he won't date much before going on his mission. Maybe I'll wait to tell him the real scoop until afterwards. Good times, good times.

Well that's all the news that's fit to print. Stay tuned next time for Lessons Learned from Dad. My kids have been nagging me to write about when I hit my toe with a hammer on purpose. sigh.

I just can't ignore this

2009-05-02T23:05:00.001-07:00

I usually stay away from politics on this blog, but this really troubles me. These are OUR children he's talking about!

Supporters of an Americorps expansion plan pending in Congress laud its efforts to "leverage" federal dollars to boost state, local and other resources to "address national and local challenges," while critics say its fine print secretly would create an "Obama-styled army of community organizers modeled after Saul Alinsky's 'Peoples Organizations.'" So which is it?
In an era in which Congress can approve thousands of pages of legislation spending hundreds of billions of dollars without reading the proposal, there seems to be no definitive answer on what some of the vague language of H.R. 1388 means.
But there is enough in the "GIVE Act," now awaiting a conference committee in Congress after being approved by both the U.S. House and Senate, to cause critics to shiver.
For example, it certainly imposes a requirement for public service on some people, even though its original much-feared study on mandatory service for all was moved to another bill during congressional debate.
"The Audacity of Deceit" exposes exactly who Barack Obama is. He isn't pedaling "change you can believe in" – he's planning to uproot American culture and replace it with the failed, secular, socialist policies of the past.
The latest version includes a "National Service Reserve Corps" whose members have completed a "term of national service," "has successfully completed training" and "complete not less than 10 hours of volunteering each year."
It also raises First Amendment issues over its limitations on what various corps participants are allowed to do.
For example, it states those in an "approved national service position" may not try to influence legislation, engage in protests or petitions, take positions on union organizing, engage in partisan political activities, or, among other issues, be "engaging in religious instruction, conducting worship services, providing instruction as part of a program that includes mandatory religious instruction or worship, constructing or operating facilities devoted to religious instruction or worship, maintaining facilities primarily or inherently devoted to religious instruction or worship, or engaging in any form of proselytization."

Probably the biggest red flag for many is how the proposal fits into the overall picture painted by President Obama when he described to a Colorado Springs audience a "National Civilian Security Force" that he wants as big and well-funded as the U.S. military – a staggering suggestion that would involve hundreds of billions of dollars a year.
WND reported when the bill began its quick trip through Congress, and its original language called for a study of how best to implement a mandatory national service program for citizens of the United States.
Later the language was dropped from that bill, only to appear at the same time in another legislative proposal.
Judi McLeod wrote for Canada Free Press that the bill simply would turn everyone into a community organizer.
"Everybody means the roughly seven million people called to public duty in the $6 billion National Service effort," she said. "But members pressed into the service of the one million-strong Youth Brigade, sanctioned by 'Generations Invigorating Volunteerism and Education (GIVE),' will have none of the freedoms of the community organizer who started it all.
"There's no room for God in Obama's long promised Youth Brigade, no room to protest, petition, to boycott or to support a strike, and loopholes to give its mandatory membership a pass," she wrote. "Obama's plan requires anyone receiving school loans, among others to serve at least three months as part of the brigade."
She also describes one section with a program to introduce "service learning" as "a mandatory part of the curriculum in all of the secondary schools served by the local educational agency."
The plan suggests raising the participation in such programs from 75,000 now to 250,000.
Gary Wood at Examiner.com said it's part of Obama's plan to set up national service. He noted the explanation offered by White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel: "It's time for a real Patriot Act that brings out the patriot in all of us. We propose universal civilian service for every young American. Under this plan, all Americans between the ages of 18 and 25 will be asked to serve their country by going through three months of basic training, civil defense preparation and community service."
Gary Lester, writing at All American Blogger, put into words the worst fears of opponents.
"Hitler knew that if you control the youth, you control the future. I wrote about him in 'The Threats to Homeschooling: From Hitler to the NEA.' As I noted in that article, Hitler said: 'The Youth of today is ever the people of tomorrow. For this reason we have set before ourselves the task of innoculating our youth with the spirit of this community of the people at a very early age, at an age when human beings are still unperverted and therefore unspoiled,'" he wrote.
He cited the Hitler Youth's launch in the 1920s. In 1933, the participants totaled 100,000, and in 1939 the membership was compulsory for those over 17. Two years later, the membership was compulsory for those over 10, and it included 90 percent of the nation's youth.
He also cited concerns it would steer volunteers away from churches, politicize charity and focus on the "education" of participants.
"The legislation will, in many circumstances, force our children to participate in charitable activity as part of school – and that activity may well be chosen by or approved by a bureaucrat," he suggested.
At Washington Watch one forum participant warned, "Our republic is under attack as never before."
Said another, "This is social engineering at the very least, and could be the first step towards the reinstitution of slavery! Take heed, the New World Order (aka 'Change') draws nigh!"

Congress also is considering a "public service academy, a four-year institution that offers a federally funded undergraduate education with a focus on training future public sector leaders."
Joseph Farah, founder and editor of WND, used his daily column first to raise the issue of a "national civilian force" and then to elevate it with a call to all reporters to start asking questions.
"If we're going to create some kind of national police force as big, powerful and well-funded as our combined U.S. military forces, isn't this rather a big deal?" Farah wrote. "I thought Democrats generally believed the U.S. spent too much on the military. How is it possible their candidate is seeking to create some kind of massive but secret national police force that will be even bigger than the Army, Navy, Marines and Air Force put together?
"Is Obama serious about creating some kind of domestic security force bigger and more expensive than that? If not, why did he say it? What did he mean?" Farah wrote.

The Bedtime Marines

2009-04-03T15:24:00.000-07:00

Yo ho, Blow the man down! At least that's what it's doing in Page. As if sand isn't uninviting enough, now we get to deal with near constant 30-40 mph winds which help us experience the sand with all 5 senses. Yeech.

April 1st has come and gone and everyone got a good joke played on them, except Neisha hasn't discovered her joke yet so I'm waiting in total anticipation of getting in trouble. The kids also played lots of jokes on each other because they're very competitive. This brings me to the first part of today's title. My kids are extremely competitive. When they were tiny, they would have contests to see who could ram themselves into the wall the hardest. They have contests to see who can drink the most milk without throwing up, who did the most interesting thing that day, who can kick the hardest (and get kicked the hardest without crying). They compete with brushing teeth and throwing things, and getting ready for bed. This particular time we were driving home and I said to them that when we got home the first person ready for bed all the way including jammies, bathroom, teeth, and drink (you have to say this or they won't do it) will get a 5 minute backscratch. This was followed by a lot of shuffling in the back of the van.
Finally we reached the driveway and as I was pulling in the side doors suddenly flew open and the boys piled out like Marines out of a helicopter in a firefight. The difference between Marines and my boys though are that Marines are dressed for combat and when my kids left the van they weren't dressed at all! They had alreay stripped most of their clothes off in prep for being the first one ready.

A Most Extrodinary Talent

2009-03-02T19:30:00.000-08:00

Greetings, greetings it is I King Bonehead returned after a brief trip to the doldrums to regale you with tales of wonder, wiffle ball, and waffles. First, my brief trip to the doldrums. I admit, I was caught up in the depressed mood the country seems to be going through at the moment despite the stimuless package but have decided that as long as I can have a Dr. Pepper and plant things in my yard I'll be ok. For any of you who don't already know, we live in a VERY small town. About 7000 I'd guess. Living in a small town brings with it some unique experiences. For example, I went to the local plant nursery today and started talking with the lady in charge. As I described what I wanted to plant in the front yard, she said "Oh that will look wonderful right next to your driveway!" Huh?
"Have you seen my house?" I asked innocently.
"Oh yeah. It's the brown one on Pinto." Insert twilight zone music now. She then made suggestions about what might look nice next to the house too. I didn't argue. And when I had a question about a certain plant, she gave me directions to her house as well as three others where I could go see what they look like. I secretly wondered if the people that live in those houses sit at home wondering why so many people show up out of the blue just to get out of their cars and gawk at their Yucca Recurvifolia.

Well, enough said for now. The family is doing wonderfully. My oldest is doing home school and therefore my wife is a certified hero. When she's not pulling her hair out. We might have to invest in Rogaine before long. He is also doing scouts, trumpet and piano lessons, and soccer. His first tournament was a lesson in abject humiliation. His team showed up and discovered they had to play the Area 51 genetic mutant team of indeterminate age and origin. They had kids with legs that were bigger than my whole kid! Ugh. He did alright though.

Parker and Alex are starting baseball and are both really good at it. Alex likes any sport that allows him to get dirty. And as for Marcus, well, he is the title of today's edition.

Every Monday we have family night which means we don't do extra curricular stuff. It's our night. And we make a big deal of it. We have an activity and a snack, a short lesson about something good and a talent. Each week one or more of our boys gets to show off a talent they have. You might be thinking, "how sweet." If so, please read more about my boys. Usually when it's talent time we go get the first aid kit and a fire extinguisher. So tonight Marcus comes up to me and wants me to watch his talent he's been practicing for family night (remember, he's 3). I say, "Ok Marcus show me what you've got". He then turns around and grabs the squirt bottle and squirts himself dead in the face. Repeatedly! He then wipes it off with a towel and says, "I'm all wet dad. Cool." Yep, that's my kid.

Well that's all the news that's fit to print so until next time if you really want to impress someone squirt yourself in the face. It'll leave em' speechless.

The Return of Dr. Vox!

2009-02-09T19:43:00.000-08:00

You know, being a dad is tough work. There are lots of things you have to be willing to endure. Barf, toys that trip you in the middle of the night, bits of Dorito chips in your bed, tools that suddenly go missing, finding the cat's hair inside your electric razor, stuff like that. There is one thing though that I'll bet not many of you dads out there have had to endure: Dr. Vox. Let me introduce you: Dr. Vox was invented by my son Parker a couple years ago. Dr. Vox is part mad scientist and part door-to-door salesman. He was introduced in 2007 and a visit to Dr. Vox went something like this:

(Scene: Missionaries over for dinner.)
Dr Vox: You have a problem you need to see Dr.Vox! (the mere fact that he refers to himself in the 3rd person is disturbing enough)
Missionary: But there’s nothing wrong with me.
DV: Yeah, there is, your foot hurts.
M: Ok. You’re right, it has been hurting a bit.
DV: Prepare the operating room!

There is something you all need to know about now. Dr. Vox has two sadistic henchmen, uh, I mean nurses who are ready to inflict cures upon anyone Dr. Vox deems worthy. Suddenly Dr. Vox yelled that the patient has a foot problem and that he needs to be put to sleep for the operation.

DV: Go get the sleep gun!
Henchman: I’ll get two!

The henchmen return a moment later with a semi-automatic anesthesia gun (which shoots 10 consecutive sleeping darts) and an anesthesia bazooka. The missionary begins to say (while on the floor) that he doesn’t need to go to sleep, that’s it’s just an ache. Dr. Vox then told him to stop being a wimp and stood on top of him while the nurses whapped in the head with approximately enough anesthesia to put down a small herd of elephants.

DV: Ok, guys get the saws!

What followed was not pretty. But in his defense, I will say that Dr. Vox, in an attempt to ease the pain of having his foot cut off, cut off his leg first so that he wouldn’t feel his foot being cut off. God bless him.

That was then. I told you that story in order to tell you this one.
Vox is back. We thought that a strong regimen of medications and calming music might cure him. We thought wrong. It all started with me wrestling the boys on the floor. When they won't get off I pull on their toes. It drives them nuts and so they will get off. So there I was pulling on Parker's toes when suddenly Parker turned into Dr. Vox and yelled, "Josh quick! Something's wrong with Dad's head! Get the saw!" The sheer insanity of that statement made me laugh out loud. I couldn't stop thinking, "Gosh that's bit over the top" but oh well. Drastic measures and all.

Well the henchman nurse brought out a 4 ft. long sword which Vox instantly sawed my head off with. Then he yelled for the nurse to grab some nails and a hammer in order to keep the rest of me on the table. Of course I start laughing again and couldn't resist the running violin gag:

Me: Doctor, tell me! Will I ever play the violin again!?
Vox: Well I don't know, your head's off and so you shouldn't even be able to talk! He yelled the last part just to be sure I heard. In hindsight his response is almost as funny as the original punchline. After removing my brain with tweezers and fixing it, he told me to lay still while he nailed my head back on. He was almost done when he exclaimed, "Oh crap!"
Nurse/henchman: What Dr. Vox?
Vox: We forgot the pain killer!
Nurse/henchman: I'll go get it!
Vox: I'm going to have to cut your head off again. we forgot to put in the pain killer. (Regardless of what they tell you in med school, if you screw up an operation just start over. That's best.)

The pain killer turned out to be a tranc bazooka and Vox had the 'nurses'tie my arms and legs to the table. My theory? If you have to tie your patients to the bed in order to give them pain meds, the meds probably aren't that great. That's just a hunch though. Once the pain meds were in place they went ahead and nailed my head back on and as a special service he painted the nails with a nice skin color so they'd match my neck. How nice.

Stay tuned for lessons we learned from Dad being dumb!

And That's the Tooth!

2009-02-06T16:09:00.000-08:00

Greetings everyone! Okay, enough silly banter it's on to business...

I have a confession to make: It's tough being a tooth fairy! Who made up the legend of the tooth fairy anyway? And what does said fairy do with all the teeth? Does she wear them? Does she use them to pave her fairy driveway? Or are they really what's inside maracas? Regardless, it's kind of scary to think about someone who has an obsession with human teeth. Yecch. Yet that's what kind of Goofiness we parents inflict onour kids.
"Goodnight Alex, and remember, the tooth fairy is going sneak into your room tonight and steal your human teeth... Sleep tight."
Anyway I digress. I was saying that it's tough being the tooth fairy. The Tooth Fairy that visits the Johnson home must be kind of old because frequently she forgets to come for a few days. Allow me to illucidate Alex lost a tooth on Thursday and the TF only just managed to show up Saturday night. Every parent who is trying to perpetuate the lie by giving their kid money for teeth so that their kid can use the money to buy more candy and lose more teeth hates the realization that they forgot to do it. So Alex asked both of us many times (over the three days) why the TF didn't come. Here are some of our favorites:
• Well the TF just likes her teeth aged a bit buddy.
• The flu has been going around, maybe she has a sore throat.
• You know Alex the TF has been around a Long time, maybe she kind of forgetful.
• The TF doesn't like Your teeth. They smell funny (just kidding!)
• Maybe she only comes on Saturday night?
* Have you checked inside the cat's mouth?

You get the picture. We're not very good tooth fairies.

Ramblings, Musings, and Weird Stuff

2009-02-01T14:32:00.000-08:00

Greetings to all you visitors across the fruited plains! (Fruity plains if you're in San Francisco).

Gosh where to start...The kids are running around the house doing "tidy army," which is a cleverly disguised game in which the kids get to put on rollerblades and zip around the house putting stuff away. This is a good time to wear shoes and stay out of the way. We've also managed to inherit another cat. She was rescued from the dump and she's great. Her name is Gracie. And she's already chasing Jack around the house.

In Alex news, the weirdo with a penchant for strangeness has once again proved beyond all doubt that he needs to stop watching Monty Python. Let me explain. Each night Neisha or I take turns reading the scriptures with him. Neish or I will read a few verses and then he gets to. Well, Alex has decided that it is his life's goal to never read the scriptures in a normal voice. The other night he decided it was Chinese day and when he read he pronounced all the 'L's as 'R's. So we read about the Rord and Arma and I nearly started crying with laughter when he belted out in his biggest 7 year old Chinese voice, "Behord Thus sayeth the Rord God of Israer!" We've also enjoyed opera style where he sings the verses like a princess, slo-mo style, and the always popular Power Ranger style in which every few words are emphasized with a genuine Power Ranger pose.

In Parker's corner we find a rat named Mack who has really captured his heart. A rat is not something we usually equate with affection but Mack is not an ordinary rat. He rides on Parker's shoulder and really enjoys burrowing under his shirt until just his eyes and nose poke out. Anyway, Parker really loves him. Recently we told him that he had to put Mack back in his cage and go to bed. A few minutes later Neish went in to sing him a song and found Parker hiding under his covers just sobbing uncontrollably. She sat down next to him and after several minutes was able to get him to stop crying and settle down. She asked what had made him so sad. "Well," he said, "I put Mack back in his cage and when I shut the door he just put his down and walked back into his little house like he was really sad that I did that to him." Precious.

Marcus is still on stupid patrol and manages to hear from anywhere in the house when someone says that "S" word. He also had aquired the incredible talent of climibing up the shelves in the pantry to eat chips. 7 feet up the shelves. At age 3. Going to need to keep a leash on that one.

And of course Josh keeps busy with soccer, home schooling, trumpet, piano, video games, and listening to every adventure book known to man on his ipod.

Well, the superbowl is almost on, I don't care, and we're having steaks tonight!

Travels with Llamas

2009-01-23T21:33:00.001-08:00

You know, occasionally I get really stressed and have to remind myself that it's not the destination that matters but the journey. Journey's got me to thinking about our travels as a family. And traveling as a family brought back lots of memories. Memories of Advil, Alieve, Tylenol, Benedryl, etc.

Actually I got to looking in my files and found this great example. Enjoy.

A couple of summers ago we went on a hike with my brother and his family, which proved not only to be cursed, but quite funny– In a cursed sort of way. The idea was simple enough: Hike to a waterfall. Scott, my brother, had a GPS unit and everything. It was only a mile or so. What could possibly go wrong? We reached the beginning of the hike, consulted the GPS, and headed up the trail. And when I say “up,” I mean up. 4 sneezing adults, 8 children and various biting insects climbing a 60-degree slope. Are we having fun yet? We eventually reached a level plateau and sat down on the side of a wide dirt trail just in time to see an SUV full of people drive by leaving us in a cloud of dust. I looked at Scott. Scott looked at his GPS unit. The kids asked, “Why are those people driving up the mountain?” Cursed. Scott thought we must be over a little too far west. His idea was to cut across the mountainside and then “we’d be there in no time!” We did. (Insert various complaints and whining here). Finally, after several hundred more consultations with the mystic GPS ball, we found. . . another road. Except this one was paved and there were lots of nice houses. Then the pest control guy drove by and we asked him where the waterfall was. He laughed. This was not a good sign. He told us we needed to go back down to the bottom and try again, as we had missed the trail. Double cursed. Another mile back down. The kids took great pleasure in saluting all the people who drove by and forgot all about the evil GPS unit when they discovered a pack of Llamas standing near a parking lot. It was quite a spectacle to see 8 kids dancing around shouting “Llama Llama, we found a Llama!” To bring this story to a close, approximately 5 hours, 3.5 miles, 3 band-aids, 47 salutes, 37 GPS insults, and 6 slightly harassed Llamas later, we arrived at the place we began and discovered that we started our hike from the wrong parking lot.
Now before you all laugh and say, “that fool deserves to be cursed” thus dooming 4 more generations of my family to weirdness, let me share some “cursed family outing” survival tips:

• When roaming in the heat, take some hard candy. It helps keep you from needing a drink all the time, and it helps your children forget that they think you’re an idiot for making them come.
• ANYTIME you say to yourself “Gee, what could possibly go wrong?” pull this story out and read it. Then take some Duct tape with you. I don’t know why, but they say it fixes everything.
• If your spouse thinks you dragged them out into the middle of nowhere on another hair-brained attempt at family togetherness, tell them they’re absolutely right. (This is for shock value) Then before they have a chance to lecture you about how you can’t follow a map to the floor and how you almost have the brains God gave dirt, hand them a $50 and say “go tell someone at Dillard’s.” This will keep them quiet. Then tell them that you’ll give them another $50 if they keep the kids happy.
• Take a lot of Band-aids. They don’t work worth beans, but the kids don’t know that. And if Band-aids don’t work, tell them that suffering builds character.
• Most of all, remember to enjoy the journey. The destination is important, but how you get there makes all the difference. Life is like that you know. It seems like it’s all uphill and just when you think your making progress someone else zooms by, leaving you in the dust. You get tired, scratched up, lost, your kids whine, and sometimes there’s even a Llama or two. But as a very wise person once said, “You never know when your making a memory” so have a little more fun with life. You’ll be happier in the end.

Welcome Mack!

2009-01-06T14:52:00.001-08:00

Another year has come and gone. And boy what a ride it was! It felt like our family crossed the finish line in a tangle of legs, nerf guns, sand and cat food but we finished. As my New Year's resolution I vow to write in this blog more often than someone else does. That should do it.

Christmas was a blast. The kids got some great toys and then went to St. George for the week so I got to play with them. Among many things, Josh got a remote controlled spy car with a video camera on it and let me tell you, there is nothing quite like the satisfaction of chasing the cat around the house from the comfort of my own bed. Gotta get me one of them! That or else find reasons to ground Josh from using it. Daily. Parker got an iClops, a really sweet microscope that projects whatever you're looking at on to a small digital screen. I looked at the stain on my levis to see what it was made out of (I still don't know but it could be paint), I looked at the stuff on the bathroom counter and now I'm not going in there anymore, and I looked at a whole bunch of other stuff. And let me say for the record that cats don't like to be subjected to microscopes! PJ also got a remote controlled helicopter and seems as how I broke mine I got to use his. Having Dad privileges is great.

We had one addition to the zoo this year (no Neish didn't have a baby). The newest member of our family is a rat. He's small, he's white, he loves to watch TV, and Parker named him Mack. Which kind of goes with the whole pet naming theme. We have a cat named Jack. Life is good. You might be wondering, "Wait a sec. You just said you have a cat. and you bought a rat? Are you nuts?"

The answer is as complex as time itself. So yes, we are nuts. The other day Parker had Mack in his lap watching TV and Jack was just sitting nearby, totally still except for the occasional twitch of the tail. I know what he was thinking. Jack was thinking "Happy Meal. To go, please." Needless to say we're careful. I was thinking about getting a dog. Hmmm...

In other news I was cleaning out our garage and found my old box of high school stuff. What a riot! I still had the year books complete with pictures that would make the Fashion Police's Hall of Fame list, my trumpet awards, ceremonial mug and I even found a video from 1988 of the Bonneville High School band! I have to say it was a lot of fun watching my carefree life, acting the fool and not having a clue about what amazing adventures lie ahead.

Tis the Season to be Barfing...

2008-12-16T10:54:00.000-08:00

With a title like that I'm sure that my literary inspiration will just spew forth. Okay, cheap barf joke. But after last night it's on my mind. Allow me to explain. Marcus-Whose-Bottom-is-Made-Out-of-Springs had his first ever experience with it last night. It must be scary as a small, innocent child to wake up in the night only to see all the ice cream you ate not 2 hours ago flying from your mouth. How unfair! Needless to say it scared the...nevermind I'll skip the 2nd cheap barf joke. It scared him. So what does any good 3 year old to when he is scared? He goes to Dad because Dad always lets him get in his bed when he is scared. Stupid Daddy.

Marcus came and stood right by my bed crying and started to climb in. THANKFULLY my nose was not as asleep as I was! My nose told my brain that letting Marcus in bed would not be a good thing right now and so my brain told my arm to keep Marcus from entering the bed. Way to go arm! By the time I awoke my body had already averted crisis #2 from happening and off we went to have our first lesson on "The bowl." The Bowl came in handy several more times that night and as Marcus improved in both aim and timing he came to show us. Sigh.

In other less gross news we are ready for Christmas!!! And, believe it or not we have snow! Not much but in the desert snow is a rarity. The best part is we're supposed to get it all week! Sweet. The boys recently sang in a Christmas concert at the church and I played my trumpet and Neisha sang in the choir. All in all it was a really nice deal. Alex reports that all he wants for Christmas is his two front teeth (he really doesn't have any at the moment), Josh wants a PS3, an XBox 360, a PSP, Nintendo DS, yada yada yada You get the picture. I told him I'd give him a JKITB 360. He asked me what that was. I told him it was a Johnson Kick-in-the-butt 360 (the approximate rotation of his behind after meeting my foot). He said he's settle for some crackers. That's my boy. Parker is happy because he got the one thing he really wanted for Christmas by winning a raffle drawing at the company Christmas party. It is a Ripstick, which is a skate board with only one wheel at each end. How insane is that?
"Hey Dad, I'm going to go ride my Ripstick now."
"Is that the thing with only one wheel, which if going down a hill you even slightly lean too far to one side will come to a screeching halt sending you careening headfirst into a parked car?"
"Yep"
"Okay. Have fun. I'll see you at the hospital."

I'm sure this is a real conversation in the near future. Anyway, that's enough news to gag a horse. Yes that was cheap barf joke #3. Merry Christmas!

Gotta See the Regatta

2008-11-03T06:46:00.000-08:00

Recently we hosted the Page Balloon Regatta. Now a "Regatta" is defined as: A sports event consisting of a series of boat or yacht races. So the fact that we had hot-air balloons which didn't race at all makes the name choice very clear. We did get to see a couple balloons crash into things so perhaps Page Balloon DERBY might be a better descriptor. Parker aka "Sonic" wanted more than anything to go up in a balloon. He wanted me to get up at 6am to go get in line for a balloon ride. Of course the night before was Halloween and so between the excitement of getting boatloads of candy and the excitement of eating boatloads of candy and the consequential hyper-exciting rush of liquid sugar coursing through his veins meant that PJ got to sleep at about 3am. So being the dope, I mean, Dad that I am we arrived at the event a little after 6 only to discover that there weren't any more rides available. He and Shark Bait loved it anyway and got to stand right next to them as they inflated. That night, after the glow of Halloween and the Balloon Derby had faded away PJ told us: "Thus ends the greatest weekend of my life." Classic. Anyhow here are a few pics of the event:

Here's the troop on Halloween: Notice that Marcus is carrying a sword. He is also a Lady Bug. We received several comments about his costume. Comments like, "Oh, is that a sword?" and "Is he a lady bug? Why does he have a sword?" What? Don't ALL lady bugs have swords? Sheesh.

Say Cheese! Please?

2008-11-02T12:24:00.000-08:00

There is one rule to follow when trying to take pictures of your children: Don't. Many a state hospital is filled with seasoned photographers who went crazy trying to get a child to "Look at the fuzzy ball and say 'Cheese!'" And while I'm on the subject, why Cheese? What is it about saying cheese that mysteriously makes kids smile? My kids are not particularly crazy about cheese and so when we say it they don't smile, but get sort of a pained, "Do we have to eat that stuff again" look on their face. Here's two classic examples: #1 Place: The Cabin. Task: To get my son Alex (aka Shark Bait) to stand next to his cousin and smile. Results: Why do I even bother? Alex seems to take it as a personal challenge to keep us from ever getting a normal shot of him. So far he's winning. Big time.

#2 Place: Our House. Challenge: To get Marcus to smile for a nice happy shot. Extra Challenge: He sleeps in the same room with Shark Bait. Results: Dang it. Shark Bait beat us to him.

Help! Rabid Child!

2008-10-27T20:35:00.000-07:00

What is it with my kids and toothpaste!? Here I am, just trying to be a good dad and help my kids brush their teeth so they don't cost me thousands in cavity repair and I end up being attacked by a toothpaste happy rabid-child.

As you know, Marcus is two, which means he is learning that it is very important that he learns everything...by doing it all himself and brushing his teeth is no exception. Our routine goes like this: I hold up the tube of Batman and Sponge Bob toothpaste and he has to choose. Tonight is Sponge Bob. He then insists on putting the toothpaste on his own brush which means that after he puts it on I have to clean off the sink, his shirt, and the floor. Then I say, "Okay Marcus, I'll start and you finish." Of course he refuses and says, "I start. You finish." This is what I wanted in the first place. (That was a little bit of psychology folks). Well, tonight as I was brushing away he kept his mouth closed which meant he built up a ton of toothpaste foam inside his mouth. After nearly a minute of good scrubbing blue foam was leaking out the sides of his mouth. Being an insightful type of father I thought maybe this would be a good time to rinse. Well, upon pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth some of the stuff flipped onto my face which made me say, "Gaa!" He laughed. I wish he wouldn't have done that. He literally exploded on me! And as I stood there covered in a fine shade of blue goo, he said, "Daddy I 'pit on you." Yeah, no kidding.

Remembering Parker and the Stupid Patrol

2008-10-23T15:23:00.000-07:00

Chidlren do grow up fast, don't they? I mean, one moment you're taking them home from the hospital wrapped in a hospital-standard-issue blankie and the next you're taking them back to the hospital with a not-hospital-standard-issue steel ball up their nose. Sigh.

You know, when I think about parenting, I think about the look on parents' faces. I think about the smile on your wife's face when she tells you she's going to have a baby. I think about the look of panic when you both discover how much it will cost to have said baby. I think about the look of pain and revenge when your wife is delivering the baby. And then I think of the look of absolute confusion when you both get home from the hospital with your new little one and think, "Now what?"

I'm guessing that look of confusion will pretty much be permanent for the next 25 years. Frequently our kids do stuff that I just don't get. Like why kids make themselves barf. It defies logic. Let me delve into the Bonehead archives and give you an example from when Parker was several months old:

We were all in the kitchen making something when we hear Parker barf on himself. We turned around and there he sat smiling about it. Ok.... Neisha then informed me that this was the 3rd time he had done it today and she wished he would keep his big fat hands out of his mouth. Interesting. I started to watch Parker and sure enough as soon as Neisha turned around to wash out the hand towel, he quickly stuck his hand in his mouth and commenced gagging himself. I had my hands full with food and so Neisha took his hand out and said to "Stoppit!". Let the games begin! It went something like this:
Mom: Stoppit!
Parker: Blorph.
Mom: Stoppit!
Parker: Ack-hrumph
Mom: STOPPIT!
Parker: Gak' (chuckle)
Mom: KNOCK IT OFF!!
Parker: Blecch
Mom: PARKER, QUIT IT!!

Final Score: Mom 0, Parker 5 barfs. Well, Parker is now 9 and doesn't barf for fun anymore but does occasionally become the evil Dr. Vox who believes that the best way to cure a headache is to remove your head. That's a story for another day. But to finish today's title, we have taught our kids that certain words aren't good to say to each other or us. One of those words is "Stupid". We sat the kids down and told them that calling someone "stupid" is mean and not to do it. Discussion over. Or so we thought. We have a 2 year old who can speak. In psychological terms he would be known as a Parrot: A small colorful animal that has the annoying habit of repeating everything you say, especially in embarrassing public situations.

Marcus the parrot has taken this lesson to heart. Anytime he hears the word stupid, no matter what part of the house he happens to be in, will come running into the room and yell at you, "WE DON'T SAY STUPID!" One time just for fun I asked him if I could say, "Idiot" instead. His answer? "Yeah, that's a good word. You can say that Dad."

"NO" Prayers and Scary Moments in Parenting

2008-10-14T08:22:00.000-07:00

It is time to continue this month's theme and what better way to do it than to remember a few of our more scary parenting moments!

But first, news from the parenting front... Marcus aka The Opinionator is learning to pray. I think. You see, most normal (emphasis there) 2-3 year olds are learning to speak and will copy everything you say, which makes teaching a child to pray very easy. Well here's how it goes:
"Ok Marcus, say 'Dear Heavenly Father'"
"No!"
"Say 'Thank you for my family'"
"No!"
"Say 'Please help me to sleep well'"
"No!"
"Say 'I say these things'"
"No!"
"In the name'"
"No!"
"Of Jesus Christ"
"No!"
"Amen."
"Amen!"

What the? Sometimes if I'm whispering to him what to say he will also whisper "No", which I suppose is at least a little bit respectful to God. Oh well. This comes from the same child who quotes Mr. T on a regular basis. Thanks for that A-Team DVD mom!

And now a look back in time to two of our more scary moments in parenting...

One night in 2004 I came home from work and discovered two of my children in their room sulking. This would be Parker and Alex. Parker’s favorite line is "Hey Alex I got an idea." Alex’s favorite line is "Cool!." Invariably this leads to bad things. I asked them what they had done and Parker said, "We were having fun with the toothpaste." Oh boy. Walking quietly, I reached my bedroom door and listened. I heard my wife mumbling something about our boys having the brains God gave a duck. Glad that it wasn’t me she was upset with I opened the door and saw her on the floor with a towel scrubbing at a small patch of blue on the carpet. I asked, "What's up?" She promptly handed me a towel and told me to watch where I step. Sporting a genuinely bewildered look on my face I thought, "What does she mean by that?" and then when I saw what she meant. I wished I hadn’t.
Our bedroom, our place of sanctuary had become a mural entitled, "Ode to Crest, Bubblegum flavor." It looked like they had climbed up and attached tubes of toothpaste to the blades of the ceiling fan and then turned it on "Hurricane."
Everything I looked at had fallen victim to the toothpaste bandits. My bed, the walls, curtains, dressers, computer, floor, closet, lamp, you name it and it had become blue. My wife informed me that they had only been alone for 2 minutes. I honestly did not know this kind of stuff was possible. In a matter of an hour we learned to hate the smell of bubblegum flavored Crest. The boys apologized and promised never to use toothpaste again. Super.

Back in the year 2000 we learned an important lesson: kids and cat litter are a bad combo. It was a fine day and our son was playing with his friend. We were all enjoying a nice lunch when we heard him yell, "It's raining! Whee!!" followed by what sounded curiously like, well, rain. Both of us looked at each other with that "I don't recognize that sound, do you?" sort of look. Just then we heard it again, "It's raining, whee!" and then the sound of falling rain. We knew two things at that point: One, it wasn't raining. Two, we were inside. Not good. Those two thoughts occured simultaneously to us and in one smooth movement we got up from the table and headed toward the bathroom, actually hoping that it was raining. Upon opening the door we discovered that our happy child was indeed in the middle of a rainstorm. A thin coating of Fresh Step mixed with brown hail lay everywhere. I said, "Oh crap." I couldn't resist. Well, I spent my lunch hour vacuuming and our son spent his lunch hour in the tub.

That's about it from the desk here at Bonehead Central so until next time, keep your toothpaste locked up and buy a fish.

The Village

2008-10-05T11:54:00.000-07:00

There are many villages which inspire fear and terror in the hearts of the innocent. The village featured in "Children of the Corn," or the village featured in "The Birds" or the eerie, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood are great examples. My village won't inspire any terror but it was fun to make. And given the fact that this month we're sticking to Halloween related posts this seems to fit nicely.

Most of the stuff you see I carved out of EPS foam which was then painted. I added moss and other stuff for a bit of creep. Turned out nice, yes?

The cobblestone roads were actually really easy. I have a hotwire tool that made it so I could basically draw the shapes I wanted in the foam.

The boys helped me with the mountains. I have a different hotwire tool that makes carving really easy.

If any of you would like me to make you something, let me know. It's a lot of fun and could be the start of a great hobby.

Horror Survival Tips and Musical Marcus

2008-09-26T08:15:00.000-07:00

Now that you've all survived the first installment of our tribute to the greatest holiday ever, I'd like to present for your spine-tingling pleasure a list of tips I've accumulated over the years of watching quality entertainment which, I am sure will help you survive any number of catastrophes including zombie invasions, cataclysmic meteor collisions, giant spiders (or ants, scorpions, roaches or women), hostile alien takeovers, having your brain harvested by a mad scientist or having the IRS audit your tax returns. But first, a little news...

Marcus is a real favorite around the house. He can always be found helping someone do something, or else climbing into the cupboards to drink Ovaltine mix. Night time is another story. Usually he just can't be found. It's a very odd thing to put your son in bed and then check on him later only to find that he's disappeared. This happens several times a week. Keeping in the spirit of Halloween it's possible he's being occasionally abducted by aliens or perhaps his bed happens to sit on a couple of intersecting ley lines and he gets transported to other parts of the house. Either way, we have to go looking for him and usually find that he has magically reappeared in someone else's bed. Occasionally we find him on the couch. Or in our bed. Or in the cupboard drinking Ovaltine mix. He's sort of like musical chairs except the chair keeps moving to a new location. Always an adventure, that one.

Now on to the heart of the post. You all know that many, many innocent people have met their demise in scary movies. What you may not know is that had those people been in possession of my little suvival guide, they might have survived to scream another scream. So without further delay here are my Horror Survival Tips. Don't be caught dead without them.

1. If you live near a field move away. 9 out of 10 alien abductions/invasions/crop circles occur in them. It might also be helpful to have a dog. Be warned however that your dog will either be eaten or vaporized. Best to get a cheap dog.

2. Never inspect a fallen meteor site. Especially if a gooey substance is oozing out of it. And really especially if that gooey substance eats your girlfriend. If you are trying to get your girlfriend eaten by a gooey substance, inspecting a fallen meteor site is not a good option because it will most likely eat you as well. And your dog.

3. Avoid fog at all costs. It may turn you inside out. It was also responsible for nearly 6000 automobile related accidents between 1981-1989 according to the NTSB. Also, 38% of motorcycle related fatalities are caused by fogging eyewear. Fog. The new evil.

4. Aliens always speak monotone english. Therefore to survive an alien invasion you should practice speaking in monotone using as little facial expression and emotion as possible. If you're having trouble with this, work with a tax accountant or CPA. *Note: Aliens try to "fit in" as much as possible before destroying earth and therefore are most likely to BE a tax accountant or CPA. If you are worried that you are talking to an alien, or that your friend, spouse, or mother-in-law might be an alien, look at their ears. They always forget to disguise them. Those wacky aliens.

5. Farmers are usually the first people to die. Right after their dogs. Sadly this is true. Farmers are a curious breed of homo-sapien. They love guns and dogs, and usually have a grudge against would be trespassers. This is a bad combo when staring into the face of a huge insect. If you are a farmer and your dog starts barking wildly only to suddenly yelp and then remain eerily silent. Send out another dog. Just to check. If it happens again, leave.

6. Atomic energy makes things grow really big. The Amazing Collossal Man and the Attack of the 50ft Woman are not fictional. They used to be a happily married couple on holiday until they went to inspect a fallen meteor site and decided to walk through the green cloud of fog and touch the oozing gooey substance. Sigh.

7. If you are using atomic energy to grow insects as a scientist, inevitably you will get into a fight with a collegue and break the glass windows, behind which lay the atomic energy injected insects. These insects will get very big and eat cattle. If, as a farmer you take your gun and go to find out why your cattle suddenly stopped mooing and discover a pile of bones covered with webbing, please don't follow the trail of webbing back to a dark cave. It's pretty obvious that it's a big spider. Trust me.

8. Atomically enhanced insects/spiders like cattle even more than they like dogs. But dogs still make a good snack. See note #1

9. Never, EVER poke the dead monster. This is a monsters' favorite trick. They learn it in monster school, usually as a child. The game is called, "Dead Monster" amazingly enough.

10. Women scream bloody murder at the sight of zombies, but are amazingly calm when they find out that their mad scientist husband digs up corpses to create said zombies. Although a common phenomenon, this is not healthy. A ground breaking new book entitled, "Mad Scientists and the Women Who Love Them" is a good place to start for those wishing to find tranquility.

11. Don't imprison your monster behind a door with a small, barred window in it because if you do, you will be choked to death when feeding it dinner. Plexiglass, electric fences, and pictures of Oprah Winfrey are good substitutes for monster imprisonment. Many Mad Scientists now lie 6ft under because they did not heed this simple safety precaution. As an interesting side note, many zombies are actually reanimated Mad Scientists which would explain the natural proclivity toward brains. Perhaps the reason women scream bloody murder at the sight of zombies is because they realize they used to be in love with them. Before they were a zombie.

12. The Army and the Air Force always have just the right invention to deal with aliens. If not, give them 20 minutes. This is a failsafe. When the military is nearby you're always covered. It is a good thing to keep the personal number of a General or two on your cell phone speed dial.

And finally, When someone says to you "You're not afraid of a little egyptian tomb, are ya?" Tell them "Yes" and get the heck out of there. This famous last line ranks right up there with, "I think it's dead. Go poke it to make sure." Please reference #9

That's all I can do. Now it's up to you to survive.

The Horror, The Horror!

2008-09-19T15:20:00.001-07:00

It's almost time to celebrate the Boneheads' favorite holiday and so to kick off the season I have included some horrifyingly gruesome pictures which are sure to cause many of you to scream in mortal terror, either from the scary thought that your parents dressed like this, or from the spine-tingling realization that you dressed like this and managed to survive.

This picture is how to get your butt kicked at the golf course. The "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to the description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the house. Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block.

The little kid picture is how to get your butt kicked in elementary school. Now that I'm a father, I know why I got my butt kicked in elementary school. I'll bet that kid has his name engraved on that belt. Like I did. Stupid belt. At least the kids knew who they were beating up.

The second picture is how to get your butt kicked in high school. I got my butt kicked in high school because I was still wearing that crap from elementary school. This kid looks like he's pretending to be a cop who is pretending to be a pimp that everyone knows is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending to be 15.

Our next frightening addition is a picture of how to get your butt kicked in a meeting. If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit.

What do I say to this next one? It's how to get your butt kicked every day up to and including St. Patricks day. I don't believe that color exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles. Ever. Not even if it's "Dress like a 70's leprechaun pimp day."

The next picture is how to get your butt kicked pretty much anywhere. If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like a young Bob Saget relaxing with his "friend" in his new Terry cloth ensemble. What I want to know is who uses coffee cups that match their clothes?

Well, that's about all I can handle for one day. Stay tuned for more strange and frightening goings-on from the desk here at Bonehead Central!

The Law

2008-08-21T09:57:00.000-07:00

I have recently discovered a new Law. The impact this law has is enormous and should be considered in the same realm as the laws of physics and gravity. If you have children you will undoubtedly be effected by this law though you may not know that it has a name.

The law I'm referring to is the Law of Diminishing Utencils. In order to understand how this law works, let me explain first Johnson's First Law of Excessive Utencil Usage which states: A child will use utencils in direct porportion to the number of utencils owned multipled by 5. Allow me to explain...

You buy utencils enough to service 12 people. That's 12 spoons, 12 larger spoons, 12 forks, 12 larger forks, and 12 knives, plus 12 bowls, and 12 plates. That's 84 pieces of serving hardware. Right. Add to that enough cups to serve 23 people and you have 107 total pieces of serving hardware. Now, add to the equation 4 children. Given the current number of serving pieces, that's 29.75pieces of silverware/cups/plates etc. per child. A parent with children will tell you that 26.75 pieces of silverware/cups/plates per child is not enough. Why?

I once did an experiment at my house to determine the answer to that question. At 8am all the silverware was in the drawer and all the cups and bowls, etc. were in the cupboard. (this was when we had 83 pieces of silverware, more on that later). For Breakfast, the kids all ate cereal. Normally this would be 4 spoons, 4 bowls, 4 cups right? Wrong. Marcus used two spoons and the other kids didn't use their spoons at all but threw them in the sink anyway so technically that counted as being used. Then they all went for seconds, but realizing they had already put their bowls and spoons and cups in the sink got more. Add to that 1 more cup. 4 to be used for milk, and one more for Parker who doesn't like to mix milk and water. Breakfast total: 26.

Between 8 and 12, another 9 cups went in the sink because each child got two drinks and Parker had 3: 2 waters, one milk. Lunch time brought out 5 plates, 4 forks, and 4 cups. Marcus knocked his first plate on the ground. Snack/Lunch Total: 23

At some point between 12 and 5pm the last 5 cups got used along with 6 "other" cups. At our house, "other" could mean mugs, thermos's, bowls, funnels, jars, anything that can hold liquid. 8 more plates were used because they all ate chicken nuggets at snack time and chips, and then had more plates later when they wanted more nuggets. Can't use the old one cause it's dirty right?

And finally at dinner time at another 4 of everything. By this time the dishwasher was done so the boys happily used another 6 or 7 cups getting drinks of water (and milk) before bed. Evening Totals: 46

Grand Total: 95

"But wait!" you say. "95 is less than 107. That should be enough." Ah, but you forget my young padowan, the Law of Diminishing Utencils! This law states: The amount of utencils owned will decrease at an increased rate in correlation to the number of children living in the home. We have 4. That means that on any given day, we will lose 13 pieces utencils. For example, yesterday I loaded the dishwasher with nearly 20 forks. After they were clean, I put them back into the drawer. All 20 of them (remember that number). A few hours later I wanted a fork, opened the drawer and there were two forks. Just two. I looked in the sink. No forks. I looked in the dishwasher. No forks. I asked my 4 children, "Have you guys used any forks?" This is what they said:
Josh: "Parker used some."
Parker: "No I didn't! You did!"
Josh: "No I didn't Parker, you used one to stab ants."
Parker "That was Alex!"
Alex: "It was not, it was a beetle."
Josh: "Well Parker still used some"
Parker: "Yeah, to eat chicken nuggets"
Marcus: "I like forks! Can I have skittles?"

It kind of deteriorated form there so I left the room and continued my search. I did manage to find some here and there and by the end of the day we managed to scrape enough together to have dinner. So the morale of this story is to remember to support the Global Warming movement and buy lots of paper plates and plastic utencils.

Two Vacations and It's All in the Attitude

2008-08-17T18:58:00.000-07:00

A very stiff and sore "hello" from Bonehead Land! Why am I stiff and sore? Because we've spent the last two days on Lake Powell with Scott "Sharky", his wunderclan, and his boat the Chum Bucket. We had a lot of fun. Hopefully pics will follow. Josh, Neisha, and I all learned how to wakeboard and Josh and I learned what a rug must feel like when you beat it with a stick. Allow me to Elucidate.

Scott bought a tube and told us "this boat really makes a great wake for tubing. I can even fill up some ballast tanks on board to make it bigger!" Well, who can ignore that kind of boyish glee? Not us for sure so out we went in turns, like little sheep fish to the slaughter. Scott starts going around in circles creating waves that would sink a battleship, and then, just when Josh or I was behind one of his Tscott Tsunami's he turned the boat straight and gunned it, effectively launching us straight up in the air. Here's the fun part: Gravity. As we came down we landed on another upwards traveling wave. Smack! Repeat ad nauseum. Literally. Kristen and Christopher also took a sound beating and Kristen took the height record, performing a twisted gainer with a face plant. Cliff Diving was great too, except for all the kids making fun of me for being scared of heights. Not cool.

Our other little vacation was to the Grand Canyon, big hole of the west. Mark and his clan came down and spent a couple of days here. The canyon was really beautiful except (Mark decided) it must have been half off for stinky people day. He was right! It was like being down wind of a turkey farm, a pig farm, a cow farm, and a used diaper heap all in one! Lot of French people there too...

Well anyway, we took a lot of pics and had a great time. On the way home we got stuck behind an accident which kept us stuck for two hours, but in true Johnson style we all got out and played catch. It was really great to see them.

In other news, Parker has once again shown us the power of a good attitude. Tonight we had pizza for dinner and it was awful. Truly some of the worst we've ever had. And as everyone started complaining about it Parker piped up and said, "Well, we can at least be grateful that it's food and not poop," and the laughter that followed more than made up for the pizza.

That's about it from the desk here at Bonehead central, so until next time be grateful for food. It could be worse.

The PTG and the Crux of Therapy

2008-07-20T17:08:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a great few weeks here at the Bonehead Farm. We recently went to the DCI performance in Ogden, UT and for those of you not familiar with it I've included a link to a video you can watch. The boys were mesmerized for nearly 3 hours and I think it's safe to say that they all want to play brass or percussion instruments. Marcus especially liked the performances and vomited profuse amounts of praise. Ahem.

Speaking of Marcus, he has learned how to be polite when saying "No" (which happens a lot). Now, instead of just yelling "NO!" he yells, "No Sir!" Well, it ain't perfect but what're ya gonna do? He is learning new words everyday. Yesterday's word was "Tremendous." I took a big bite of apple in front of him and he yelled "Wow! That was tremendous!" Not sure where he learned it, but ok we can deal with that. Marcus has also entered the PTG, that mystical path which a young man must travel before reaching the noble position of "big boy" at the Johnson house. The PTG, or Potty Training Gauntlet has always held a place of trepidation and anxiety at our house and now that we're in it, there's no going back. Ugh. Thankfully he's learning fast although he hasn't quite figured out what to do with poo when it comes around. Usually he'll come and ask us which, as you might guess is the makings for a fecal fiasco.

The other boys are doing great as you can see from the pix. They are enjoying every last second of summer on the trampoline and digging in our huge pile of dirt which they have named "Skull Mountain" after digging a couple of holes in one side that eerily resemble a real skeleton head. BTW, how much dirt do you put in a grave? A skele-ton. Get it? I made that up last night.

The last part of today's title deals with what I do. You learn in grad school many of the intricate processes that combine to create change in a persons' life. A person comes in at a point of conflict in their life and our job is to help them get past it, to make the needed change in order to have a more fulfilling future. In layman's terms we sell change. But the path is sometimes delicate and hard to follow. There are times when it isn't clear where to go or what to say. Therefore I have included this short video from Bob Newhart that demonstrates in a clear manner what so many therapists long to say to their clients. Follow the link here: http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYLMTvxOaeE

And that is the news from Bonehead Central so until next time, keep smiling. People will wonder what you're up to.

Learning From Experience

2008-06-17T21:45:00.000-07:00

Mark Twain once said, "Only take from an experience what value there is in it. A cat who sits on a hot stove will never sit on a hot stove again. But he won't sit on a cold one either." So here is the situation: 3 of my children-Larry, Curly, and Moe went swimming at the local pool. It is about two miles away from our home. Neisha said, "I'll pick you up here at 2pm." At 1:30 they decide they are tired of swimming and figure they'll just walk home. No problem, except they have one pair of shoes between the 3 of them. So off they go down the road in 90 degree weather. They discovered two very important things: First, that the sun makes cement very hot. Second, that it is a lot further to walk somewhere than to drive. By the time we found them Josh was carrying Alex and Parker was walking on his tip toes and all of them had blisters on their feet. Poor kids.

That was the hot stove. Lesson learned, right? Wrong. Not a week later two boys, whose names shall remain un-named (ahem) go to the pool and were told, "DO NOT LEAVE THE POOL UNTIL I COME GET YOU AT 2pm. IT IS NOW 1pm." That is some pretty clear communication. So at 1:40 the two un-named boys leave the pool and come to my office. But they don't come IN to the office they just stand outside in the parking lot and hop up and down on one foot because it is very hot outside and they are sharing one pair of shoes. sigh.

What would Mark Twain say about those two I wonder?

In the home front news, we finished putting the trampoline into the ground and finished putting a sprinkler system in the front yard. We've built a deck, stained it, and have more big plans in store. I have to thank Doug for helping me make sense of deck plans and for taking time out of his weekend to boil out in the sun while I learned how to aim a nail gun. And I have to thank my own Dad for helping me make sense of electricity when it came to wiring the sprinkling system. Dads are the greatest thing in the world. Anyone who is reading this should go right out and purchase their father a gift card to the Home Depot or Lowes. :)

Well that's the latest update from the desk here at Bonehead Central so until next time keep your shoes on.

Sayon-aura and the Mud Brothers

2008-06-01T19:08:00.000-07:00

Once again, hello to all of our Bonehead Readers across the land of the free, and the home of the extremely dirty Johnson boys who have decided that since we don't have a pool, having dirt to swim in is the next best thing. It was so great to hear them: "Hey Parker, let's go roll in the dirt!"
"Yeah, let's get the dirtiest of all."
"I can dirtier than that!"
"No way! I can put dirt in my hair!"
"Cool! I want to try!"

I've included a pic to prove this. And yes, it is true that our home is still mostly dirt outside but that is quickly changing. We've started putting in a sprinkling system and will be putting in sod within the month.

In other house news, Neisha has tackled the building of a block wall around the in-ground trampoline and is having a lot of fun with it. She's doing a fine job of it too. Check out the pic!

And now for a little check-in with the Johnson Boys...

Josh continues to amaze us with his love for life and his ability to achieve. He received the Presidential Fitness award in school, the only one in his class. This means that he needed to be above the 85% in all of the categories. He even ran a 6 minute mile! He also qualified for the gifted program at the middle school and is participating in a special summer school program for those kids. Weird. He put summer school and excited in the same sentence.

Parker has been enjoying quite a bit of sports related success too. He won the National Fitness award and was one of just a handful of kids who did it. And he's had a great time playing baseball and in fact his team took first place in his bracket and they all got a big trophy. He also participated in field day for his school. He was a part of a four-man 400 meter relay. Out of 20 teams his took first and Parker was very instrumental in that win by running the first leg faster than anyone else.
After the race they received 1st place ribbons and as Parker got on the bus to go back to school he (in total humility) waggled his ribbon back and forth and said, "Who wants to sit by me?" Later he told me, "Five girls raised their hand, Dad. And Taylor, she raised her hand but she didn't get to sit by me. But Alexa, she raised her hand and she got to sit by me." What a kid.
One other Parkerism: The other day Neisha got in the car to go to church and when he smelled her perfume he said, "Mom what are you wearing?"
"It's just my natural aura," she replied.
"Well then wear less of it," he said.

Alex is just enjoying the heck out of life. He and I recently went to Indiana for a week and while there he got to go the Indianapolis Speedway to watch the Indy 500 cars run their qualifying laps, and get REALLY close to a lion at the Indianapolis Zoo. And what did he say to the lion?
"Here Lion lion. Come and eat me, I've got a nice fresh leg here for you. And look at this nice head, lots of tasty meat. C'mon Mr. Lion, I've got ketchup and mustard and everything! Look at that nice arm!" I have the video. The people around us just stared at him. Then they stared at me. I laughed and I'm sure they thought I was a very sick parent.

Marcus is still a wonderfully independent and capable little guy, and sometimes as weird as a three-dollar bill. Last night when I went in to tell him goodnight he reached up and pulled my head down onto his chest in a hug. It was very cute. After a couple of minutes of total silence, I felt his little hand reach down, grab my nose a little bit, and then I hear "munch munch munch." He ate my nose! We weren't even playing a game. The things that go on inside his head, I tell you.

Well, that's about it for this edition so until next time, keep your hose handy.

Home Run

2008-05-04T20:48:00.000-07:00

Well, it's nearly complete. All that's left is to put up a wall around the house and we're golden. Here are the latest batch of pics. If you take a look, you'll see a before and after shot of the land. Pretty neat..

The Law of New Carpet

2008-05-04T19:00:00.000-07:00

There is a law irrevocably decreed before Heaven which states: Within a week of purchasing new carpet, your children will destroy it. Amen.

Truly we were hoping that we had somehow escaped the wrath of the carpet gods which take great delight in orchestrating the downfall of newly installed carpets all across the country. But no. Not us. We are Johnsons which translates into "Ruin the heck out of it!" if you happen to be a carpet god. Now the powers that be cannot ruin the carpet on their own so they usually contract with smallish type children to do the actual dirty work. Enter Marcus.

Marcus is just starting to get curious and is pretty strong for his size and likes to carry things around the house (Note: those three things are very bad if they occur in the same sentence). So yesterday morning as my wife was sleeping peacefully, Marcus Curious spied the large syrup refill bottle and decided that it would be fun to carry it around for a while. After reaching his bedroom he began to get curious about whether or not he could open it. The answer to that question, unfortunately was yes. I believe it was about here that the carpet gods put the thought into his mind to do a quick gravity check on the syrup. Sigh. Then, with the carpet covered with a quart of syrup the carpet gods suggested to Marcus's mind that it might be fun to sort of throw the syrup around the room as though he were tied to a mechanical bull. I'm so glad I wasn't home.

Later that day, after the syrup had been cleaned and the smell of maple syrup no longer hung in the air like a thick fog, the carpet gods suggested to Marcus that shampoo would be a much better thing to pour on carpet because it is pink and bubbly.

Suffice it to say, Marcus is still alive albeit barely and the carpet--well, the carpet is not new anymore. The carpet gods have once again succeeded in their duty. As for the rest of us, Alex is enjoying baseball, Josh is learning about ebay, and Parker is enjoying stumping around with one leg stuck into a thick, cardboard poster tube. He calls it his "wooden-leg named 'Smith'".

That's all the news from the desk here at Bonehead Central, so until next time consider tile.

Page attacks trash and the winner is...Josh!

2008-04-20T17:48:00.000-07:00

This is the one day of the year when Page-ites get together and clean up this one-horse town. This is also the day when many people try to put their own garbage into official "PAT" bags and turn them in for a free t-shirt. Sigh. This year was fun for two reasons; First, it was windy and frequently I saw pieces of trash blowing by and smacking people in the head. Perhaps they should have named it "Trash attacks Page"! The second reason it was fun was because my son Josh wrote an essay about the event as part of a city wide school assignment and he won first place. So he gets a hundred dollar savings bond from NGS and a big dinner in his honor. He's pretty stoked. Here's a video clip of his teacher telling us he won:

http://videoemail.vmdirect.com/view?uri=Mjc1NjE0My0wNC8wOS8wODoxNTowNjowOA==&zimbra=true&speed=4525&players=flash%2CRealPlayer%2Cquicktime%2Cmp4%2Cwindows

In house news, we're almost done. Which means I get to start playing in the sand. It will be an absolute miracle if I can get anything to grow but we'll give a good shot anyway.

Home Sweet Home

2008-04-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

Well, it's done. We're in. Game over, man. Our ship has finally arrived. And so on, and so on. Our home is nearly complete and although getting from the front door to the kitchen is like a maze, we are totally happy about it.

You know, a while back I wrote about what I learned from moving. Back then this is what I said:

#1 Don't.

#2 If you absolutely must move, don't take your cat.

#3 Especially if it stinks.

#4 When you tell the people who come to help pack the truck "just make it fit", some wonderful surprises are going to come about. I still can't figure out how to put my computer desk back together.

#5 Guys who move refrigerators don't communicate very well.

#6 Don't have a child the week before.

#7 Being stuck in a van with 4 young children and a nervous mother-in-law may require therapy.

I would like to offer you one piece of moving advice. Pianos are evil. I also want to discover the correlation between being a Mormon and owning a 5000lb. piano. I'm not sure why it is, but it seems to be a hidden doctrine that says "In order to make it to heaven you must own an insanely heavy piano that was owned by someone who lived a long time ago and who, consequently, bought the piano from a company that handmade their pianos using steel, led, and granite. Said piano must have enough sentimental value to keep you from making the rational decision to buy a dog instead." The people that helped us move discovered Saturday that "well-built" is hidden code for "this piano is your worst nightmare". Suffice it to say, the piano is still alive, Neisha is happy, and the next Elders Quorum activity will be held at the Chiropractor's office.

Well now, that WAS enlightening! Even so, I have been blessed to learn a few more gems of wisdom that I would like to share...

To start, let me give you an update on the insanely heavy piano or as we (the movers) affectionately named it "The Herninator". It truly has become the stuff of legend. Several people who helped us move came inside, saw it growling in the corner and said "I've heard about this piano." I'm telling you, it did not want to be moved. I don't know how it managed it, but it made itself heavier and wider and I think it even bit someone. But 3 hours later the Herninator was wrestled into its final resting place (don't worry it's in the house) and Neisha played Hymns to pacify it. As for the rest of what I learned:

#8 Unpacking toys which have been gone for 6 months is like Christmas.

#9 Do it twice a year and you won't have to buy Christmas presents ever again.

#10 Never trust someone to move your fridge who's favorite phrase is, "Did I just hit something?"

#11 Hiring someone to fix drywall is expensive.

Really the move went fine. Marcus has been way excited to get boxes in his room even though it's only food storage. they're "his" boxes and that makes them great. And while we're on the topic of food storage let me just say that creating a bed frame out of buckets of wheat will make your bed over 5 ft. tall. We don't even need to kneel down to say our prayers!

This next week we'll finish up the house. Stucco, sidewalk, driveway, and then I get to start landscaping! That's about it from the desk here at Bonehead Central so until next time, encourage your kids to play the flute!

Dad Wisdom and Boogers

2008-03-30T20:36:00.000-07:00

Shoot, with a title like that I can't go wrong! I have come to the conclusion that disgusting as they may be, boogers attract an awful lot of attention. I suppose you can make them sound less gross by calling them "bogeys" like some little wizard children, or you could make the whole matter worse by calling them "nose poops" like bad little wizard children. Either way, they're here to stay and tonight at the Johnson household is no exception.
Enter Marcus, our extremely-independent-in-an-obnoxious-sort-of-way 2 year old. We were resting after a great game of tickle monster, in which mom or dad chase down screaming children, tickle them, then throw them in jail. Anyway, Marcus sticks his finger in his nose, pulls out a bogey and offers it to me. "No thanks" I say, "I don't want it." So without another word he put it back into his nose. Well you know what they say; "One in the nose is worth two on the floor". Or something like that.
The other bit of news comes from a couple conversations I've had with my kids in the past. As all parents know, kids ask a lot of questions. And more often than not, the answer is far more complicated than we'd care to discuss. It is this quandry that gives men the inspiration to fabricate some of the greatest answers of all time, or as I like to put it: Dad Wisdom. I have two that I will share with you and invite you to send me some of your best wisdom too. The first comes out of a conversation I had with Alex a couple of years ago when he asked the question: "Why don't people just bury dead people in their backyards?" Well the answer would have been quite complicated. How do you explain Cemetary's and respect, and a quiet place of honor and reflection and all that mimble wimble? So I said "Because it would be too hard to put in a sprinkler system with all those dead people in the way." Perfect sense. The other happened with Parker and to be honest I don't even remember saying it but the fact that he did makes it even better. He reminded me that once upon a time he'd asked me how I got nose hair. I didn't remember. "And then", he said "you said that one time you sneaked up to a cow and sniffed really hard and the hair came off the cow and got stuck there." Wow. I don't remember saying that but I sure hope I did. That's a great one!
That's about it from the desk here at Bonehead Central so until next time, be wise.

T.O.F.U.

2008-03-30T08:58:00.000-07:00

T.O.F.U. There have been many things in this world which are unexplainable despite our best attempts to do so. Bigfoot, for example has remained a complete mystery even though you can buy real Bigfoot prints on ebay or Bigfoot hair at “Jenkins’ Genuine Mysterious Artifacts and Fish Bait Shop.” Or there is the unexplainable mystery of why people call a car with stuff being transported in it a “shipment” when a ship with stuff being transported in it is called “cargo”.

Be that as it may, there is another yet unexplainable phenomenon in our society which has defied expert’s best attempts to classify it as belonging anywhere on the table of the elements. I’m referring of course to tofu. I have done my own research on the stuff and while not complete should give you enough information to go on. First, tofu is made of a secret governmental test material originally designed to be an adhesive/accelerator for C4 explosives. In fact, in some of the early episodes of “The A-Team” you can catch glimpses of Mr. T eating some of the explosives. However, through lack of funding tofu became basically an edible form of playdoh. Second, tofu comes in a variety of shapes, all of which look curiously like they were made using playdoh tools. Third, it tastes a lot like playdoh. (It is a little known fact that the Playdoh company actually wanted to call their product ‘Doh-fu’). Fourth, it’s used as a substitute for most meats, sweets, fish, and spackle and the winner the National Vegan “Edible Non-Animal Food of the Year” award, edging out wheat grass and olive loaf by a mere six votes!
As I stated before, tofu comes in a variety of shapes and flavors, but there is one tofu creation which is just plain wrong: Tofurkey. Sick, sick, sick. I was introduced to this food sensation by a coworker who is Vegan. This is not to be confused with Vulcan, although the similarities are quite astounding. So what is it? You’re not going to believe this. It is basically spice injected tofu that has been molded to resemble a turkey; legs, gizzard and all. It’s even color coded so you can have your preference of light tofurkey, I mean moldable goo, or dark moldable goo. Doesn’t that sound swell? And for dessert you can have tofumpkin pie! Same great goo, different shape! She wants me to try some tofookies next week. Well that’s about it from the desk here at Bonehead Central so until next time don’t sneeze when you eat tofu. It’s not pretty.

Home Wasn't Built in a Day

2008-03-28T15:42:00.000-07:00

Or 4 months for that matter. Greetings to all perusers of the Bonehead News! Spring time is definitely here as we head into nearly seventy degree weather. Except for those couple of days where it snowed. Darn global warming!

Anyway things at the dirt farm are blowing along just fine. Marcus keeps sneaking out of his room at night to go have sleepovers with various brothers and insists on brushing my teeth in the morning. He even tells me, "Fronts" and "Bite" and if I do what he says he'll say, "Good Dad!" The only problem is, when we're done I look like I tried to brush my teeth during a serious earthquake.

Parker took 3rd place in the district pinewood derby. This was his first time doing a car and yes, he did most of it. I cut out the shape but he did the rest. He's very proud. He even got a trophy! The dads who took first and second should be so proud!

Alexander the Great is learning lots in school and earned the title "Party in a can" from me, and boy has he earned it. Like at 11pm when I go in his room to check on him and find Sir Swaree playing games on my cell phone complete with food tray and dinosaurs. He just started baseball and is doing great, exept he keeps trying to tag people out with his back end. Not only does it not work, it's extremely funny to watch.

Josh has officially stolen the gamer's crown from me by soundly beating me at every game that I own. But I guess that's ok because I'm still taller.

And now to explain the title of todays edition. You know, several people have told me that building a home always take longer and cost more than you're prepared for. I would like to add my voice to this and proclaim that building a home is downright traumatic! During the process we've adopted a slogan which seems to fit the experience nicely: (to be said your best NY accent) "that's gonna cost ya". Were almost afraid to answer the phone anymore. It has been a very exciting process and I will be posting pics real soon. The biggest setback was actually getting the house ONTO the foundation. That is a story in and of itself, so I'll save it for later.

That's all the news from the desk here at Bonehead Central so until next time, buy a tent. It's cheaper.

Introduction

2008-03-26T08:06:00.000-07:00

As I looked up the definition to “Bonehead” I was struck by the fact that the word showed up in 1909. I’ve done a fair amount of family ancestry and I’ve never found anyone in my line that knew Webster. Guess I’ll have to check into my wife’s line. In any case, coming up with a title for this book took some thinking. And as you can see, it didn’t take very much.
The Bonehead News started out in 1999 as a family newsletter, outlining life in the great state of New Hampshire. From there it just sort of morphed into a compilation of weirdness that chronicles the life of two parents raising four aliens and trying to pretend that we are normal when we go out to eat.
Seriously, being a parent has been the greatest joy of my life. It has been wisely said that the most important work we will ever do will be within the walls of our own homes, and that has proven to be true over and over again. It is especially true when your children discover where mommy hides her lipstick and they paint pictures for you on the walls and on the baby, who, after being assailed by “Mocha Freeze” and “Raisin Berry” looks like some sort of freaky circus leprechaun. I’m not exactly sure that’s what President Lee meant but hey; when you’re right you’re right.
Being a parent is hard work. When my wife and I got married in 1995 we had no idea how much work went in to being a parent, nor did we know the joy that children could bring to our lives. I can honestly say that my greatest happiness has come from hearing the word “Dad”. Whether it’s “Dad will you read me a story?” or “Dad do you want to play a game with me” or “Dad do you want to go to the store and get candy?” I never tire of hearing that word. I know there will come a time when my kids will be embarrassed to admit that they’re related to me so I want to make sure that I never turn down an opportunity to be with them while they are young. That’s not to say that I don’t feel other things when I hear the word “Dad”. For instance, when I hear “Dad, Marcus (the baby) is throwing cat litter again”, I feel panicked and when I hear “Dad remember that nice cabinet that you built for mom?” I feel a sudden spike of father angst. Sometimes my kids play jokes on me, just to see what I’ll do. They think its great fun. Like the time they came running around the side of the house yelling to me that someone had thrown a baseball at our van and cracked the windshield. They watched me take off running full tilt toward the front of the house with absolute glee. Once I saw the fake baseball stuck to the windshield I knew I’d been shanghaied and my 5 year old said, “Wow Dad, you run really fast.” That day I felt angry. And I felt that someday revenge would be mine… (Insert evil laugh here)
What follows is not a story, nor is it book of sagely advice from a wizened father unless you’d consider “Lessons I’ve learned from scary movies” or “Feeding your baby is like chasing a greased pig” sagely. No, It is simply a collection of tales about my unusual family and the importance of having fun with life.