Please......Protect me from myself.

I'm not sure yet if the title of this posting is appropriate yet or not. We will have to wait and see. I am warning anyone who reads this post, that they do so at their own risk. It will likely be very controversial. OK disclaimers are finished.

Yesterday I took the Wild Child in for her Kindergarten check-up. I love the Doctor and the whole practice for that fact. That is saying quite a bit if you know me. I am one of those free thinkers that doesn't believe that doctors have all the answers for my health and well being.

The Wild Child was very calm about the whole thing and so was I, because I honestly believed that she was all up to date on her immunizations. So I didn't prepare her for any "shots" or prepare myself for such an event. Turns out she had to have three. UGH! She was so brave as she and I talked about it while they prepped the immunizations in another room. I asked her if she wanted me to hold her when they gave them to her, or she wanted me to hold her after. She said after. She was so good about it....till it started to really hurt as they pushed the injection into her thigh muscle. I had to, not only hold her then, but restrain her. I think it was worse on me than it actually was for her. I worry she thinks that I ambushed her.

So that was the trauma. Here is where I rant and get controversial. As I am talking with the Doctor, she tells me that another school district in the area requires some blood work and tests that my school district does not. I start thinking about this and I am really getting mad. (Not at the Doctor.) Why does the school district think it can mandate such things? Is it any of their business if my child has Sickle Cell trait or any other number of things that tests can prove? If I choose to not let my doctor release the information to them, can they still get the information? Not that I have anything to hide, I just feel that government in it's MANY forms, thinks that I am incompetent, therefore, must mandate and legislate, me and my family to safety.

I think about home schooling a lot. I am not sure that the government belongs running schools anyway. I think that it is a conflict of interests so to say. Our history books sort of back up my point. The history books change over time based on the popular opinion of the day, not to mention, this gives the government a captive, impressionable audience to push what it thinks is right. Which I might add is not always what I believe to be right.

There is some controversy over immunizations for some people as well. I am on the fence with this one. I do however believe that families should have that right to choose whether this is for them or not and not mandated by the public school system. People should be well informed about the risks, either way. Then and only then, should they make those kind of choices. I think about all those people who now suffer from Autism that are linked to a type of vaccination serum used years ago.

I just want to live in the the "Land of the free and the home of the brave."

Ok, one more disclaimer.......My comments moderation is on because I have received some spam and one comment from some physco/perv a while back. Please feel free to share with me what you think and I will post it. It is always good to know if I am way out there on my own or if there are a few others like me.

Did you ever do this?

I had forgotten about this until my darling children reminded me how good this use to feel. Did you ever play in the wading pool and get so cold that laying on the HOT cement felt like heaven?

Do I have eight arms?

We have just walked in the door from church and I am asking my children to please take their shoes and few of other miscellaneous items of theirs upstairs to their bedrooms. Gently reminding them that Aunt Kimmy and Uncle Andrew are coming up for dinner. The Wild Child must have thought I was nagging because the Rocket Scientist says she sounded like me. She says, completely exasperated, "Do I look like I have eight arms? NO! Am I an octopus? NO! I can't carry all these things upstairs!"

I have to walk away to keep her from seeing me smile. I have never used that exact line of reason, but similar. Mine usually goes something like this when they are demanding things from me at the same time. "I'm not Elastigirl and there is just one of me. So, you are all going to have to wait a minute."

How old is your backpack?

The 1st Child must be an old soul. By the time she was 18 months old, she would tell me what she would and would not wear. She didn't like clothes that made her look like a baby. She wanted clothes that made her look like a tween.

As time has marched on, things have not changed with this sweet child of mine. In kindergarten and 1st grade she wanted backpacks that had Hello Kitty on them. That part was age appropriate but the fact she liked the mono-chromatic colored Hello Kitty backpack screamed I'm in 5th grade.

Today we shopped for her 2nd grade backpack. The first one she picked was a JanSport, mono-chromatic, looks like I'm going to high school, cost $60.00, back pack. Nope, I draw the line there. It's too old and too much money for a 2nd graders back pack. She finally settled on a "book bag" instead that says I'm still in the 5th grade.

Now if I can just keep her in the 5th grade until she gets there.

How it all started...part two

Because the Rocket Scientist reads my blog and well, he actually proofs it for me. If something is not punctuated or spelled right or a word missing, that is because the RS was not around to help me. I never have been very good at proofing my own stuff, but it has gone down hill since children. The distractions of motherhood leave me wondering how my brain looks. (Is it oatmeal, like it feels?) OH, back to to my point here. The Rocket Scientist saw I was using a fictitious name of Stan for him. You could say that he is not fond of it, so I will from here out refer to him as the RS or the Rocket Scientist. (Can you hear the occasional sarcasm when I use his chosen name?)



It is an April night in 1993. The Rocket Scientist and I have spoken once on the phone briefly a few days before to firm up our plans. Turns out Jed and his soon to be fiance will be joining us on what can only be described as one of the most embarrassing nights of my life.



Before my children were so kind as build my immune system into Fort Knox, I used to manage a couple of really good colds a year. This April evening was one of them. There was no breathing through my nose, I could barely hear my ears were so plugged, and I was definitely mouth-breathing. If that wasn't enough, my color was off and by the time I was trying to pull myself together to have dinner with this guy, I didn't have time to get the right color of foundation. So I had a choice, no make-up, foundation way too dark, or foundation a bit too light. In my cold medicine delirium, I chose too light. (That had to be pretty.) I was pushing as much cold medicine on myself as I dared. I have never consumed alcohol, other than NyQuil, when necessary to control a cough and get some sleep. Now I should have canceled, being as sick as I was, but in my cold medicine induced state, my judgement was a bit impaired. Some how, I thought it would be perfectly acceptable to go out.



The door bell rings as I am doing a few dishes. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I answer the door. I would like to say it was love at first sight, but it really wasn't. He wasn't bad to look at, just really, really not my type! I asked him to come in, sounding lovely I'm sure, so I could quickly finish up the dishes. (Why those darn dishes had to be done that minute, I am still not sure. All I can say is, remember the cold medicine.) He is very patient while I deal with my momentary obsession with the dishes.



We meet Jed and his date at a local diner for dinner. I don't remember to much of that part of the night, other than I ordered a chef salad that could have fed a large rabbit family. Jed and his date had to meet someone at the airport and were parting ways with us for a couple of hours. We were to meet up later at the movie theater. The RS and I now have some time to kill. We talk and drive. We end up in the town my family lives and where Jed and I went to high school. Now if you have ever been to Magna, UT, you know this is NOT where you take a date to impress him. I think part of me was trying really hard to scare him off. I'm not sure if it was because I was not interested or if that somewhere in my heart, I knew he was my true love. We talked with ease, never an uncomfortable silence. At some point, I tell him I want 12 kids and he shoots back with he wants 13, so he could have a whole baseball team. Then a little later, I tell him that I don't believe in divorce, but that I might believe in manslaughter. (Are these words of an uninterested woman? I am still not sure.)

We end up at my parents home. I introduce the RS to my parents and a few of my siblings. I can tell that my mom is impressed with him. She's giving me the, "What's wrong with you?" look, as she can tell I am not interested in this guy.



When we meet up with Jed and his honey at the movies, it is decided that we will see Forever Young, a movie I have already seen twice. I don't care though. The cold medicine is all the fun I need. As it would turn out, there is an empty seat to one side of me. This ends up being fortunate for whoever decided not to sit there. I am starting to feel a little drowsy. I can feel myself swaying a little. You know how it is when your dating and you don't want to give the guy the wrong impression? Well, I certainly didn't want the RS to think I was romantically intrigued. So, I was refusing to put my arm on the armrest between us.

Oh, the need for sleep was suddenly overwhelming. I was pinching the inside of my arm to stay awake. Didn't do any good. I realized my head is dangling in the empty seat next to me. I hurry and sit up trying to look like nothing has happened since it appeared nobody noticed. Feeling relieved, I discreetly wipe the drool off the side of my face with my sleeve. The adrenaline is starting to wear off from almost being caught, when I realize I am going to have to use some of the arm rest between us. It is the only hope I have to appear awake. I slide my elbows into the back corners of both arm rests, hoping to prop myself up. When I wake up this time, my head is dangling in my lap and I am drooling. (That no breathing through my nose thing was becoming a real problem.) I yank my head up. Not very inconspicuously either, I might add. Once again wiping my face off with my sleeve.



I am still not sure how it happened, but I wake one last time as the movie is ending. My head is on the Rocket Scientist's shoulder. I have managed to drool all down his arm. He has been very sweet to let me sleep. I try to very slyly wipe his arm off with my sleeve. (I know.......... Is this the most disgusting first date you have ever heard? I think I am gagging a little, just trying to tell it.) He never says a word about it. He drives me home. I invite him in. We talk for a few minutes. I have to be up early the next day for work, so he says good night. I walk him out and hug him good-bye. I can tell if I give him an opening, the man is going to kiss my socks off. Since I think he is a geek at this point, I keep my face as far away from his as possible. (Like I had any right thinking he was the geek after what I did to his arm.)



That was it. He left and I went in, crawled into bed and drooled on my pillow. I was actually very relieved that he lived so far away. There would be no need for me to explain I just wasn't interested.



A few days pass and I get a call from Bill. He wants to come over. I let him. (Why would I do that?) I must have missed him a little. Bill was still holding out hope that I would start to miss him enough to get back together. We talked a while. After he left, I knew there was no way I could ever go back to where we had been.



I cried a lot that night. Sometime that night the RS called. We talked for an hour or so. He mentions he will be coming back to Salt Lake in a month or two. He was coming up to see some friends. I am so comforted talking to him, that I am actually wanting to see him. As friends though, nothing else.



To be continued.......

Some moments of my day...

The sea monkeys slept in. It was divine. I haven't slept until I was ready to wake up, in years. Anyway, around noon a friend of mine tells me she is taking her kids to the park and asks if I would like to bring mine and join them. I am terribly embarrassed that we are still all in our jammies and that it will take us a few minutes to finish breakfast and meet them at the park. I am on turbo speed now. I jump in the shower, throw some clothes at my kids, plead with them to get dressed. Just before leaving, I ask everyone to use the restroom. My sweet son has not been potty trained that long but has been doing really well. As I am looking for my shoes, one of the girls yells to me that her brother has peed all over the floor in the bathroom. Yes, I know, not blog worthy, but I am not finished. It would seem this is what happened. My Son was following directions and going into use the facilities before we left. He has dropped his pants and underwear. His shirt is a bit long, but has not lifted it yet, when he goes to lift the toilet seat and an earwig crawls out from under the rim. This startles him so much that he drops the seat and squeals as he starts to spray my bathroom, his shirt, pants and shoes. So much for being in a hurry.

Good news is, I have only seen 3 earwigs total today! That is a huge difference from before when I was killing more than I could keep count of.

At the park, I got to play with one of my friend's sons. It started out as soccer. He's three, so I use soccer loosely. Before long, it turned into playing "Power Rangers." He said he was the red Power Ranger because he could run "freaky fast." The kid was cracking me up. I was to be the pink Power Ranger and we had to stay in the shade because anywhere the sun hit the ground, was "wava." As it turns out, according to the "red Power Ranger" I played soccer with this afternoon, Power Rangers can swim in lava. I'm gonna miss that kid. He goes back to Idaho this weekend.

Bed time prayers are a source of many chuckles for me. The Wild Child asks in her prayers to dream about a white rat, but no mean rats. It makes me wonder if she has been reading about the The Good Flea's pie baking experience. (http://thegoodflea.com/2008/07/well-its-not-coleslaw.html)

How it all started.....

I wanted to record how the Rocket Scientist and I met and fell in love, so that one day our sea monkeys can read/hear it and appreciate what geeks their parents are. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent alike)


I was young and stupid. We all are at some point. I had been dating the same guy for three or four years. I loved his family and I think I might have still loved him a little. He was a good guy. We were toxic for each other. He could bring the worst out in me. I haven't seen the person I was then, since then. (Thank goodness!!) I didn't exactly bring out his best traits either. We had been engaged for a time. The engagement ended when I finally gave him back his ring after another big fight. Some how, I knew it was over, but I just couldn't let go and kept seeing him. For ease of telling the story, we are going to call him Bill.


I remember the biggest turning point. My best friend from high school was in Ireland serving a mission for our church. He had been there a while and knew of another guy who could use some letters. My friend, who we will call Jed, sent me this guys address and gave my address to this guy. Now, I have to disclose, I was crazy about this best friend, Jed, guy. If I had honestly believed I had a chance with him, I may have never dated Bill, the guy who's family I couldn't break up with.


So this guy needing letters sends me a letter. Very general, nothing too interesting, but a bit humorous. He mentions something to the fact that Jed mentioned there was a girl back home with the same sick sense of humor and that he ought to write her. So, I wrote him back. Four pages of non-sense. I read and re-read it. I just didn't like how it sounded. I think it was just too "cheesy." So I tore up all four pages into little 1 inch squares and put in the trash. I then re-wrote the letter, (two pages this time) and dropp it in the mail. The 4 and the 2 page letters could have not been more platonic if I had written them to my brother. Later Bill comes over to hang out (and think annoy me.) During the time while Bill was over, he found time to go through my trash. (Remember what I said about bringing the worst out in each other?) He finds the four page letter in teeny-tiny pieces.


Later that night I get a call from Bill asking me if he can come over. Me, hearing he is sounding a little upset, "Yeah, come on over." He arrives looking like he has been crying. I ask what's wrong. He proceeds to tell me that he took the torn letter out of my trash can, took it home, taped it back together, read it and now he is sure that I am in love with this guy and that I am going to marry him. HA! Funny Bill! Don't do stupid things, admit them and try to use them against your girlfriend. That was the end of any trust I had in him. The letter content was so benign that I could have read it in front of my high school algebra class.


A few months later, Jed has finished his mission and is back in town, I have finally ended things with Bill and I am still writing the guy with the sick sense of humor. Jed and I go out a few times. As typical for Jed when he didn't know how to handle a situation, he starts avoiding me. OK, whatever, I am so glad I am not dating anymore.


Now I am living in the greater Salt Lake City area at this time. The guy with the sense of humor is finishing his mission up and is headed home to the greater San Diego area. His last letter from Ireland includes his home address and phone number. I'm thinking cool, this guy might be fun to hang out with if we are ever in the same city.


Then one night I am bored out of my mind. My roommate is out on a date. Most of my friends are now engaged or married. So not a lot to do. So I decide to call the guy in San Diego. (Yes, I know, a healthy dose of shy could go a long way here.) "Hi, is Stan there?"


Voice clearing on the other side of the line. "Hello."


"Hi, guess who this is?" The man will not play along, He just would not guess! It wasn't like I was looking to be his girlfriend. Maybe he thought I was testing him. (I was testing him a little. For some reason I wanted to know if he was dating. The other thing, I was hoping to find out is if he had a big enough sense of humor to guess something ridiculous like Bat Girl.) We ended up talking for about 30 minutes. The conversation was witty, slightly flirty with zero depth. He mentions he is headed up my way to visit with some friends and ski. He then asks me if I would like to grab a bite to eat with him, if I am free one of those nights. It occurs to me for the first time, that he might be a little interested. I agree that it would be fun to meet the person I have been writing letters too for the past 9 months. So..........we set up a date.


To be continued....

Is it Paranoia or OCD?

Oh to be a fictional character. Rhea over at http://texaswordtangle.blogspot.com/ got me thinking about just that. It would seem her son has some ideas about his name. As is turns out, my son has some ideas about his own as well. If I hadn't mentioned it, my Son is developmentally delayed and though he will be 7 in a few weeks, he really seems more like 4ish. His favorite movies ever are the Shrek movies. His favorite Character is Puss-n-boots. So much so, that he insists we call him "Puss-n-boots." He now refers to his Dad as "Ogre" and occasionally calls me "Biona."

Being that it is 2:48 AM and I should be sleeping. I want to be sleeping but I'm not. I have wondered if it is Paranoia or OCD keeping me awake. If you read my previous post you know that we have had a few unwelcome visitors. It seemed like every night was "2nd verse, same as the 1st." They 1st Child and the Wild Child would be crying and carrying on about bugs until they would pass out cold. So being a mom that treasures what sanity she still has claim on, I have been religiously looking for ways to free myself from these little demons we call earwigs.

I have cleaned. I have weeded. I have sprayed insecticide in window sills. I have chased the little brats down with tissue to squish and send to a swirling, watery grave. I completely dusted the foundation of my home with http://www.ghorganics.com/DiatomaceousEarth.html. If this doesn't work, I have more information in my arsenal that I am not afraid to use.

The worst part is, I start to fall asleep only to see earwigs in my sleep. Alarmed I wake up ready for battle. Or there is the half awake, half asleep slumber where I could swear I feel one crawl down my back or across my face. This is when I can't decide if I really believe that they are everywhere, trying to take over my world or if I am so focused on the task at hand that I have to kill all earwigs, including the made up few in my head.

So this brings me back to the first topic. If I were a fictional character, I would choose to be:

I could wave my magic wand and turn all those little earwigs into little elves that would do my dishes and laundry, maybe even clean my house. Or maybe I would choose to be Fiona. She would probably find them to be a tasty little snack, like high end chocolate. She certainly wouldn't mind a few million earwigs crawling around her house.

My skin is crawling...

It is 12:20 AM Sunday morning and I have just convinced to the 1st Child and the Wild Child to go to bed. You see, we have this little problem. They are called earwigs and they are everywhere! In the past two hours I have personally disposed of 7 of them from in my home. Two of the them from said girls' room and I may have forgotten to mention the spider. They are worried the "pincher bugs" are going to get into their beds and pinch them. This may be a valid concern, since last night the Rocket Scientist was sitting in bed minding his own business when he squealed like a little girl because an earwig "pinched" his leg. Ewwwwwwwwww, that means it was in my bed too!

So last year we hired an exterminator and didn't notice any difference in the amount of pests but did notice the $60.00 less a month in our checking account. We had the service for a whole year and I can't say that I think it did anything. So what does a mom do? I want my kids to sleep, I want to sleep, I want my skin to quit crawling. I really don't want to see any more of these little "monsters" crawling up my walls. I certainly don't want anymore in anybodies bed!

My poor little girls are scared out of their minds. I have checked and re-checked their room. The Rocket Scientists gives them the "you-are-so-much-bigger-than-them-what-are-you-scared-of" speech. I have used the "they-are-looking-for-water-and-filled-the-bathroom-sink-with-water" logic trying to convince my pretty little girls that all the earwigs will go there instead of their room. They aren't biting. (No pun intended.) They want to know what the pincher bug will do after it gets a drink. So then I try the "those-bugs-only-like-it-warm" approach. I tell them this as I turn down the air conditioner. This starts to work. They have decided to sleep in the same bed to comfort each other when my too smart for any of us to get any sleep little girls realize that the Wild Child's bed will be really warm with two of them sleeping in it. Then the drama continues as a new bug decides to climb up the wall in their room. (Come on! Can we catch a break here?)

Earlier today I went to our local Intermountain Farmers Association and purchased some insecticide to try and control our obvious infestation. I finally convinced them that all was going to be OK as I sprayed the window frame in their room. The 1st Child was still a bit nervous as she watched the earwigs in the frame twitch. She thought for sure they were going to survive the poison. (Hopefully, that will prevent any new comers in their room tonight.) Still this is not quite enough to make to very tired little angels want to go to bed. I finally allowed a light to stay on in their room. As I walk back into my room the Rocket Scientist comments, "I hope that doesn't back fire." This is when it occurs to me that now it will be easier for them to see any new bugs that might decide this is a good night to torture the human occupants of this home.

So far, so good! Knock on wood, or whatever else I should do to continue in the direction of sleep instead of delirious little girls running from earwigs.

If any one has any ideas on how to deal with this issue..... I'm all earwigs......um, I mean, ears.

It is 1:35 AM now. I just went back into their room to see if they were asleep and turn out the light. Of course I took my camera with me to take pictures of any and all earwigs brave enough to come out and crawl about. This is what I found instead:

All good things must come to an end...

What a fun vacation that was! So there was some stuff I left out while on vacation. Mostly because it takes me so long to put my thoughts into words and then longer to make them make sense to more than just me. One of my very favorite things in the world to do is to walk through model homes. If you have ever done this with me, you know that I could go on forever. Most people are "crying uncle" long before I am tired of it. There are some funny things I have noticed about model homes. Like this for instance:Honestly, would most people put these items on top of their dryer? Now, don't get me wrong, I'm all about every room in the house being a place that is pleasant to look at, but come on. Really? Would I really put more dirt voluntarily into one of the main rooms in the house dedicated to removing dirt? I'm just sayin'.

Here is another one that has me wondering. I love the theme and color scheme in this room. I find it cute beyond words, but, (you knew the but was coming right?) the life preserver on the bed? You know in my house it would be doing the opposite of preserving life if it were left on a child's bed. I am certain that some child would be trying to use it on a sibling as collar and leash or possibly a device of torture.

Ok, enough of that! So when Wednesday morning rolled around this week and we had to start heading home, there were so many tears cried by children begging to stay for just a few more days. They were honestly breaking my heart. The kids had slept in that morning, which was good. I could do so much more, faster without their sweet little selves distracting me. My Son and the Wild Child woke first. We tried to keep them quiet so they would not wake the others. That didn't work so well since any time we weren't watching they would sneak off into the other room and try to wake the others. When they did finally wake the 1st Child, she was not happy about it. She was still very tired from being out so late the night before. She comes to me and says, "Mom, these two woke me up with their running around and screaming. I wasn't ready to wake up and now they are making me annoying!"

Not ten minutes later I am trying to convince the Sea Monkeys to get dressed. I wanted to get packed up and on the road before it got too hot. The Little Jamaican walks over to me butt naked with her underwear around her neck saying as she sways, "Look at my beautisul scarf." Will you just get dressed please!!! This seems to be a recurring thought I have lately. I am wondering if I am raising nudists. It's not that hot! Put some close on for Pete's sake, and mine too for that fact.

The Memory Game

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

Things you should know...

This child:

Tells me this is called a "buttomic wedgy"

Progress

If you visited us when we lived in the Valley of the Sun, we probably took you to El Rico's for some of the best Mexican food on the planet. Only then, there was just the shack that contained the kitchen and you had to eat outside, because there was no inside and no restrooms either. You would have to wait an hour in line just to order on a Friday night and they only took cash. (Yes, the food is that good that you would endure even the ridiculous heat of the summer, wait in line forever and run to the nearest gas station if you needed a restroom!)

Well things have changed!!! The new building as pictured below is air conditioned. They now take cash, debit or credit. They have very functional, nice restrooms. (I would know after repeatedly taking the children to the facilities during our two stops there.) The food is still as amazing, the people as nice as ever and you can still eat outside if you wish.

Oh to live where the Mexican food is amazing again.

The weekend in a few pictures...

The pictures below all crack me up. The first one with the Rocket Scientist smirking makes me smile, because I know I'm about to be heckled.

We were at friends house on Saturday night. They had a lovely garden growing like gangbusters. As soon as one child had a carrot from the garden, they all had to have a carrot. The Little Jamaican decided she had to eat hers in the pool.Aren't the goggles and the expression priceless? This kid was cracking me up Saturday night. OK, OK! I know most people would not find humor in this, but if I didn't, the Wild Child would be the death of me. The Rocket Scientist thinks that I should label these pictures something like "One too many days of vacation." She first started crying because her flip-flops fell off when we were driving. She thought that I should just whip right out of my seat while riding down the road and retrieve the wayward shoes. Then when we arrive at our destination she freaks out more since the door to her left closed while she was having the first tantrum. Apparently, that is the only door you may exit through if you are the Wild Child. The full-on melt down lasted only about 15 minutes.
See all better!
Well, all better for a minute! When the sea monkeys started to fight at the park we told them it was time to go. They like most kids said they weren't leaving. The Rocket Scientist and I decided to call their bluff. We decided to get in the car. When the First Child realizes this, she rounded them all up and pulled them to the car. They are crying, again, because they think we were going to leave them at the park. Like we could ever do that!? (eyes rolling)

Lunch and a show...

The first thing that cracked me up this morning was walking to the pool, the Little Jamaican points to this and says, "Mommy, somebody peeeeed." The storm last night left behind a lot of water. Some places locally received 2 inches of rain. That is a lot of rain in a very short period of time on parched ground. One of the best things that came from the storm was the pool was nice and cool, instead of feeling like bath water.After that last picture, there should be no question as to why I call them "sea monkeys." It was really fun playing in the water. The First Child learned how to do a "belly slam" as she calls it. Knowing it's real name, I think "belly slam" might be a better suited name for how it feels.

For lunch we went to the most requested restaurant in our home. My sea monkeys call it Cheeto Bambito's. Of course this restaurant is in the Valley of the Sun and not in the state to the North. So this is a huge treat. Chino Bandido's is a Chinese/Mexican food mix place that has been featured on the Food Network. http://chinobandido.com/ If you are ever in the Valley of the Sun, you need to go. Nothing like it anywhere I've been and the snicker doodles are amazing!

Food Network's Guy from Diner's, Drive ins' and Dives below on signed poster.

When we get back to the condo we are staying at, the Wild Child tells me there is a song she heard at "Cheetos" that goes like this:

You can see that the First Child decided that she needed to sing it too. What can I say? We can entertain!

Minor league day

We started Thursday off with a Minor League Baseball game. My children were hot and complaining, except for my Son, who kept asking every time someone new was up to bat, if it was his turn. The kid cracks me up!!! We were there for only the last 3 innings, so we didn't torture them too much in the heat. (Not that you can tell by the expression on the Little Jamaican's face.)

So we thought about a movie after lunch, but didn't make it in time, so we made preparations to do this: http://www.dbg.org/index.php/plan/calendar/eventdisplay?evt=flashlightour. In my opinion, totally worth the trip!!! If I had to leave for home after that, I would still feel like I had been on vacation. There are things and people I would have been bummed about missing. Just the same, it would still feel like I had been on vacation.

The much anticipated Monsoon season made it's appearance when we were at the Desert Botanical Garden. It started off benign enough. It was overcast, hot and humid, with no chance of seeing the sunset. As we entered the gardens they were giving out personal fans from Target to everyone who entered. They didn't want anyone to get too hot. I think they just wanted to keep my kids hands off the cacti. Truth be known, I'm good with that. This works out really well, because they have a fan in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Well it worked really well till my Son figures out this:

And this:

We were enjoying the beautiful gardens and learning about tarantulas, scorpions, and all the other wonders of the desert.

As you can tell from the pictures we were having "fun" when the weather decided to do what the meteorologists have been saying it would do for days. First there were a few drops of rain. My Son and I were at the "kids corner" doing an art project when the wind started blowing...and I mean blowing. Ripping papers out of kids hands and the works. Me, thinking it is just a little storm blowing through, push my kids to continue the tour. It is now raining BIG drops of water and the wind is gusting. I look at the Rocket Scientist and ask if we should go. He thinks so. He thinks the sea monkeys are really freaked out. Just then, I notice the lightning. I guess the rest of my family had noticed it a while before I had. Trees are really swaying now. Some of their branches touching the sidewalk as they blow in the gusting wind. Whatever is blowing in the wind is starting to sting a little when it hits your skin. Everyone else is being ushered into an exhibit type room ahead. The sea monkeys are bustin' a move. They are getting out of this storm. The First Child is holding the Little Jamaican's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost. Another enormous gust of wind flies by and a sudden crack. I look to my left and see the tree, less than 20 feet away, lose a HUGE branch. Half a second later I hear a "thunk" and the Little Jamaican start to cry. My heart pounding, I turn around to see the Rocket Scientist chuckling. The Little Jamaican wrapped around a small pole and the First Child trying desperately move her forward. In all the excitement, the First Child is trying to get herself and her baby sister to safety and walks her into a pole unknowingly. The funny part is, she has still not realized this is what has happened and is still trying to pull her sister forward.

The Sea Monkeys tell us they never want to go back to "that" place again. They some how believe that either storms originate from there or that if we go there a storm will always come. I love this family of mine. They are more fun than I could have ever dreamed of.

Does the Rocket Scientist have a point?

We made it!!! Finally, no more children asking if we are there yet. My Son no longer asking if we are going home or if we are going to eat pizza. We arrived in the Valley of the Sun this evening. It truly feels like the Sun's valley. I love how the heat here makes you chill for the first instant here. I knew I liked here, but I wasn't prepared for how much I love it here. I missed this place so much.

Since we moved North a state and to the North part of that state, we have not had really good pizza. So we could not wait a day longer and went to Barro's Pizza for dinner. It was worth the trip for the pizza alone.

As you might imagine, traveling two days in a car with four children ranging from almost 4 to 7, has it's moments. The Wild Child is wound up and apparently hungry when we make it to the restaurant. The salad bar is between where you order and where you sit. The Wild Child helps her self to a cherry tomato. The 1st One notices and decides that this not right. She takes the tomato from the Wild Child and puts it back into the salad bar. The Rocket Scientists notices this happen and tries to keep the tomato from ending up back in the tomato container. As he doing this, the Little Jamaican notices a very tempting ladle in the Italian Dressing container and pulls it out. As she starts to realize the her dad has caught what she is doing, she throws it on the floor so she can't be busted for touching something she's not suppose to.

Finally, everyone is at the table and we are patiently waiting for our pizza. (Well, some of us, patiently.) The Wild Child repeatedly tells us that, "It took for a long to time to get here and now I 'm not going to get to go swimming." You would have thought that we drove two days for her to go swimming the way she was going on and on about it.

After eating as the Rocket Scientist and I try to get the Sea Monkeys, back in the car so they can go swimming. They are running around like wild animals in the African Savanna. The Wild Child notices something blue and sticky on the sidewalk. My Son walks over to check it out as the Wild Child is peeling it off the side walk. Seconds before The Wild Child put "someone we don't know's" discarded gum in her mouth, the Rocket Scientist yells at her to put it down. She laughs and drops it as my Son decides to pick-up. Yuck!!!! Why are kids so disgusting? As the Rocket Scientist and I are wiping their hands off and trying to minimize whatever they may have just picked up, the man tells me, "We're done! D - O - N - E! Done, Karen." I've been telling him for years that we are not done. That we need another two sea monkeys before we can be D-O-N-E, but after tonight's outing, I am wondering if the man might have a point.

Tales from the road...

First things first. For those who wanted to see the ring. Here it is. The Rocket Scientist is really too good to me.

Now, onto my favorite thing I heard yesterday. We are road tripping. Tripping may be the most accurate way to describe what I heard. We have been on the road for a while when I hear the last part of a conversation. (I was sleeping. Something to do with a moving car will knock me out cold, if I'm a passenger for long.) The Wild Child is responding to someone and proclaims, "Good! Then I won't have to go chasing myself down the street." I wish I knew the rest of the conversation. I am sure it would have only served to make the statement more priceless.

We are on the road again today. We will be leaving Las Vegas soon and landing in the Phoenix area this evening. I am sure today will hold it's own set of phrases I will desperately try to remember to record here tonight.

Gifts that keep on giving

My husband the Rocket Scientist, this year for our Anniversary he gave me a wedding ring. I adore the ring! I finally earned it after 14 years of marriage. Kidding, he has wanted to give me one other times, and I wanted a house or something else instead. It's nice to have one more reason to think about him. (Not that I needed a reason, it's just nice.) I did nothing so glamorous or romantic. I gave him a Zune. I have to tell you, it is the gift that keeps on giving. The man is downstairs listening to that thing, singing his heart out while he is doing my dishes!!

Happy!

What is it that truly makes a person happy? and what is happy? I wonder if the answer to this is the same for everyone or is it different for each of us. When I think about being truly happy, it is a combination of things for me. It is accepting myself with all my flaws and still being willing to like me. It is having something to look forward to and work towards. It is being able to see the people around me that I love growing and learning. I think that happy for me is in direct correlation of how much hope I have. So I am wondering.... What is your definition of happy? What makes you happy? Is it a choice? or choices you make that lead you to happy?

Why does the Wild Child ask these things?

Just for some quick history... The Wild Child a while back asked her dad what you had to do to get a driver's license. He explained you have to take a class, take some tests, get some practice, get a permit, get some more practice, take another couple of tests. (Explaining that there were both driving and written test to be taken.) The Rocket Scientist hears the quiet after his explanation and realizes he forgot the most important part to that answer. "Oh, and you have to be at least 16." "WHAAAT?" comes the reply from the back seat. The Wild Child honestly thought, "Cool, I'm going to get my mom to get me into a driving class and then I can drive whenever I want." Oh, that girl scares me.

Yesterday when I was getting on the freeway by our house, the Wild Child asks, "What happens if you speed?" I am wondering if she thinks I'm speeding because I am accelerating to get on the freeway or is there something else going on in her head. I am also wondering how much is too much information for this particular child. I tell her you can get a ticket for speeding. "What happens if you get a ticket?" she asks in a "so what?" tone. I explain about fines and jail and how all that depends on how fast you are going, where you are (we were in a construction zone), etc. While I am trying to explain this to the five year old Wild Child, the Little Jamaican keeps trying to talk over the top of me. I finally have to tell her to wait her turn, that she can talk in a minute. When I finish explaining, I tell the Little Jamaican that it is now her turn. I finally hear what she kept trying to say. She's saying, "And you win, Momma, and you win?" I have to ask her "what?" one more time to try and figure out what she means. The First Child then interprets, "She thinks it's a race when you're speeding to win." Honest, I was only doing 55 in a 55 zone.

Will the bed time madness ever end?

How is it that it can take less time to clean the kitchen than it does to put four kids to bed? Oh, the goofing off and excuses and the stalling. Asking them to get their PJ's on repeatedly. Warning them if they don't go "potty" now, I will make them where a "pull-up" to bed. Then there is the "you didn't kiss me." Even though I have and then the 25 stuffed animals that are suddenly craving my affection, or at least a good night kiss. The Little Jamaican tells me every night, after I put her in bed, that she is "persty." Of course there are no drinks at this time of night, because I have enough laundry to do without having to wash all her linens in the morning. As if that is not enough, she now gets out of bed and torments the others that we have alredy sent back to bed twice. Then there is the First Child, "I'm too hot. I'm itchy. I need to tell you something. The Little Jamaican is out of bed and bugging me." Just to name a few. Then the Wild Child is out of bed. If the First Child gets out of bed, then she has to get out of bed, because she is afraid to be alone in her bedroom at night. The Wild Child is then complaining that she's scared or is copy catting something someone else is saying. Thank goodness for my Son! Once he's made it to his bed, he's there till the sun is up.

Even after all of this and other trivial stuff that I have not bored you with; they are still up. I can hear them out there, trying to jump out and scare each other. Of course, its because the Little Jamaican is out of bed, again.