Rebecca H. Jamison's Blog, page 20

Honesty Skit for Cub Scouts

Our cub scout value for last month was honesty, so we wanted to do a skit on honesty. We couldn't find one on the internet, so our smart Bear den leader came up with one that was really simple and funny. You don't really even need a script.

She lined up all the boys in chairs as if they were in school, then she handed out papers, acting like she was their teacher in school. Each test had the numbers 1-10 along the side of the page. She said, "Okay, children, we're going to take a test. You can start now."

The three boys in the middle are the only ones with speaking parts.

Boy #1: "David, what's the answer to number one?"

David: "I'm not going to tell you. I'm not a cheater."

Boy #1 then turns to another boy: "Jacob, what's the answer to number one?"

Jacob: "C."

Boy #1 goes on, asking what's the answer to number two, then three  . . . all the way up to ten. Jacob always says the answer is "C."

After boy #1 writes down all ten Cs, the teacher says, "Okay, your time is up. Trade papers with the student next to you, so you can grade each other's papers." She then lists the answers, and you guessed it, none of the answers are C. At the end, boy #1 covers his face with his hands and groans loudly. The End.

Potty Training

One of my favorite potty training books.My brother, the pediatrician, suggested I write a blog post about potty training. I told him I'd never do something so undignified, but what the heck! After potty training five and a half kids, I'm practically an expert, right? (I say five and a half because I haven't quite finished with child number six.) In my book, anyone who claims to be an expert at potty training isn't currently potty training or has never potty trained a difficult child. However, I have learned a few tricks as I've navigated the murky waters of potty training that I'll share with you. I'd also love any tips from readers since I'm still in the middle of potty training.

The most important rule of potty training is this: The child must think that potty training is his idea. (I'm using "he" because I have mostly boys.) He could care less about how tired you are of changing his diapers. Usually, you'll have to find outside rewards for his using the potty. I have used stickers, candy, cookies, paper airplanes, paper helicopters, special television shows, new underwear, play dough, verbal praise, and bubbles as rewards. Beware the escalating reward tendency. I had one child who decided a piece of candy wasn't enough. He wanted 2 pieces, then three, then a whole cookie. Stand firm and think of this as your preparation for the pre-teen years.

Getting the kid to go: Sometimes, when the rewards have gotten old, the child will need an extra incentive to go in the potty. For boys, you can try having pee pee races with an older brother or having him hit targets like little squares of toilet paper or cheerios. For boys or girls, you can dye the water with food coloring and tell them their pee will change the color. You can give them books, play dough, a special drink, or bubbles while they're sitting on the potty. Sometimes a book or dvd about using the potty will help motivate a child. I like to get children's potty training books from the library because who really wants to own a potty book?

Getting the kid to keep going: Just because the child learns how to go in the potty doesn't mean he'll go on the potty every time. It takes a lot of patience. Most kids have a lot of accidents. I try to make accidents as inconvenient as possible. The child can help clean up any puddles and helps transport clothes to the laundry room. You can also says things like, "That's too bad you didn't get to watch your special show for going on the potty. Maybe next time."

If you have any tips for me, I'd love to hear them. My patience with wet pants is running out faster than my laundry detergent.

My Disaster Date

You would think that since I've been married for so long, I wouldn't have any new disaster date stories. Well, thanks to last Friday, I've got another one to add to the books.

My husband has been dying to go out on the Great Salt Lake and rent a paddle board. It's kind of like riding a surfboard without any surf--that's why you need the paddle. I thought it sounded like fun. Why I thought it sounded like fun I don't know. Anyone who has experienced the Great Salt Lake knows that it's kind of a gross place to be. It smells like rotting flesh and there tend to be a lot of bugs along the shore.

When we got to the marina, it didn't smell too bad. The college kid who rented out the paddle boards informed us that it was too windy for paddle boards, so we rented a kayak instead. He took us down to the shore, where he washed the bugs off of our kayak before we took it out. That should have been our first clue. "The bugs are really bad right now," he said, "but once you get out a little ways, there aren't any more bugs."

We hopped on board the kayak and paddled, our only goal being to get past the little flies that were everywhere. We could see some red buoys that were really far out, and we set a goal to get out past them. As we approached the buoys, I saw they were covered with little flies. My husband splashed at the buoy with his paddle, thinking he could kill some of the flies. Instead, they all flew right onto me. "Stop," I shouted, then I choked because those flies were inside my mouth and heading down my throat.

"Put your arms in the water to get the flies off," my husband suggested.

The salt water on my arms was like an adhesive. The flies stuck to it. "Maybe if we go out a little further."

The further out we went, the worse the flies got. Eventually, we turned around and headed back to shore, where there were fewer flies. Yep, that was our date. It cost all of $8 because we only stayed out for a half-hour.

My Art Collection

This picture fell down the stairs this morning. It's exactly what it looks like, a drawing of our house.
Last week, I finished painting my living room. It's one of those rooms that never ends. It blends into the entryway, the upstairs hallway, and the downstairs hallway.  One wall is really tall, so I've avoided painting it since we moved in seventeen years ago. Now it's done, and I'm hanging pictures. I wanted to share some of my kids' art I've framed recently. We have other art in our house, but these are the only original pieces we own.

 Preschool dinosaurs in the kitchen. It's sometimes hard to find frames to fit the art work. With my dinosaur pictures, I used some old frames I had around the house and painted them to match. It I were more OCD, these would probably drive me crazy because the placement isn't exactly perfect. Oh well. They make us happy.

Eighth Grade watercolor tree in the hallwayMy oldest son is really talented in art. I like to keep a lot of his work, even the bloody swords and scorpions. This tree picture isn't his best work, but it's peaceful. It's in a frame designed for a scrapbook page. I put it on top of a piece of scrapbooking paper so it looks like it has a mat.

Preschool Fish in the bathroomMy latest discovery is 3M Command picture hanging strips. They keep the pictures in place, so I don't have to straighten them all the time.

Summer with the Boys

I woke up to find my boys rappelling out their bedroom window. That's how I know it's the end of summer. Things are getting a little crazy around here. Everything in the house that used to be "butter flavored" has now become "butt flavored." For example, I am the proud owner of a box of butt-flavored grits. I really need to hide the Sharpie. I guess I should look at the bright side because there's one box of cereal in the cupboard that they still haven't devoured.
This is my son rappelling at camp.At the beginning of the summer, I had an organized list of all the things I was going to accomplish. I got it about half-way done, which means I am only about half-way through potty training. Preschool starts on Monday. I'm crossing my fingers. We have also done a bunch of scout stuff. Last night, I slept out in a tent in the backyard to help my 10 year old complete the camping requirement for his Webelos badge. Has anyone else noticed that the crickets this year are really loud?  Now all I have to do is cram in ten more hours of driving with my 15-year-old.

It's been a fun summer. I'm not looking forward to the start of school. How about you?

Husbands' Top 6 Most Romantic Statements

This is my husband and me on our wedding day.
How do you like my veil?

After a couple is married, the woman prefers her husband to use a whole new type of romantic language. Here are some of my favorite things for my husband to say:

1. Why do those celebrities in the tabloids have so much celluloid? You don't have any.

2. I feel like making dinner . . . and cleaning up afterward.

3. It's not PMS, honey. It's me.

4. If I had it to do over again, I'd still marry you, only I'd save up for a bigger ring.

5. You should be on one of those workout dvds.

6. I wish my mom would learn to cook like you.


Okay, so my husband has only said some of these things. Can you guess which ones he's actually said?

You Can't Please Everyone

In high school, I was criticized for my lack of athletic skills, for being too enthusiastic, and for having a big nose. I never did fix the big nose, but I worked really hard not to be too enthusiastic. No one could accuse me anymore of being too enthusiastic. Today, I wonder if that's really a good thing. It would've been better if I'd just ignored that criticism and gone on with my life. On the other hand, becoming more athletic was probably a good choice. I'll bet I could beat most of the girls from high school if we all had a race today. I could probably beat some of the guys too.

My daughter has this quote from Bill Cosby on her wall : "I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone." So true! One of the best parts of growing older for me is that the older I get, the less I care what other people think. I still try to correct myself if I think the criticism is valid, especially in my writing. If I don't think it's valid, I move on.

 Breezing Up by Winslow Homer Photo Courtesy of National Gallery of Art
One of my favorite paintings is "Breezing Up" by Winslow Homer.  I love the waves and the sky. Once while I was looking at the painting in the museum, I noticed it has a huge flaw in the background. It looks like the artist once painted another ship then removed it. If you look closely between the sailboat and the ship, you might be able to see it too.  Noticing such a big flaw in this beautiful painting was a moving experience for me as a young college student. It meant that even with my imperfections, I could still be beautiful. Everyone is beautiful in his or her own way, and the fact that we're all imperfect only adds to our intrigue.

How have you learned to deal with criticism or imperfection?

Vacation Pictures

I wanted to share some pictures from our vacation to Virginia. My brother, who volunteers at the Smithsonian, gave us a behind-the-scenes tour of the Museum of Natural History. In the picture above, we're walking past dinosaur bones encased in plaster. Not many people get that kind of tour because there's a lot of things people could pick up and steal. I told my brother we'd like to get a behind the scenes tour of the gems next time. ;)


I had a signing in Maryland at This is the Place bookstore. I met so many interesting people and sold all but one of my books. I also happened to meet a couple of people I already knew. It was one of those times when I wanted to sing, "It's a Small World," but I didn't because it would've been really bad for publicity.


My parents' backyard is so beautiful with lots of trees and wild animals. We caught a glimpse of some deer, but the boys' favorite was catching fireflies. Contrary to popular belief, you cannot keep them in a jar as a nightlight because they will be dead in the morning, even if the jar has holes in the lid.


My parents pamper their birds. This is their bird bath. It's heated in the winter.

Writing help from the National Rifle Association

If you want boys to read something, tell them not to read it. That's what I did with a huge stack of National Rifle Association magazines the boys found after their grandfather passed away. You know what happened--they read each magazine in the stack cover to cover.

I decided I'd try a different tactic next time we encountered anything gun related. So when we drove past the NRA museum on our trip to Virginia, I told the boys we were definitely going.

Believe it or not, the NRA museum was not crowded, and it was free. I was excited to see that the exhibits were arranged to teach American history. The boys were excited to see the light saber used in Star Wars.

After about a half-hour of walking around looking at guns, my younger boys got bored. That's when they escorted Grandma to the gift shop. "I hope you didn't buy them anything," I told my mom when they got back. My three boys whipped out the fancy pens Grandma got them and showed me how they light up.

Later on, when we were checking out the pens at home, I realized that those pens could solve one of my biggest problems--writing down ideas while I'm in bed. I get my best ideas while I'm trying to go to sleep. I keep a notebook beside me at night, but sometimes in the morning, I can't read what I wrote.

I snagged one of the pens and tried it out that night. It cast a blue glow over a page of my writing notebook, but it didn't light up enough to wake my husband. I've never been so grateful for the NRA.

What's a derecho? You don't wanna know.

[image error] This is a photo from the paper. I didn't see anything this bad, but there were trees in the streets etc.
I take it back. I don't like thunderstorms that much. I must have jinxed myself with my last post because the day after it published, we had the mother of all thunderstorms in Northern Virginia, where I was visiting my parents. The weather service is calling the storm a "derecho," pronounced da-Ray-cho. It's a rare storm event with strong winds that moves straight along its path(unlike a tornado that turns.) All I knew was that it was pretty scary to hear an enormous branch fall on the roof above our bedrooms.

We'd spent the afternoon at the Air and Space museum, where we'd seen an IMAX film about tornados. That evening, as the kids were out catching fireflies in their jars, I thought it felt like the weather right before a tornado. It was very hot and very humid. Sure enough, within a few hours, we heard the thunder and lightening, saw stuff flying around in the wind, and watched the lights flicker out.

I thought the lights would be back on by morning--in time for me to curl my hair for my book signing. Nope. It turned out the damage was worse than I'd realized. The power was out all across Virginia, D.C., and Maryland. There were trees lying across the roads, and no traffic lights were working. After driving through all the disaster areas, I was expecting the This is the Place Bookstore in Maryland to be closed, but they opened for a little while that morning. Since the power was out, we decided to postpone my signing until the next Saturday.

It took us 50 hours to get the power back at my parents' house. During that time, my kids gained a new appreciation for electric lights, air conditioning, refrigerators, and stoves. It wasn't really what I wanted them to learn on vacation, but I'll take what I can get.