Surrounded by Sea Monkeys...

Quotable.....

2010-11-05T18:00:00.008-06:00

I started this post in February of this year. I got a little distracted.

What is it about some people that we find them so quotable?

For instance:

"The first requisite of success is the
ability to apply your physical and
mental energies to one problem
without growing weary."
- Thomas Edison

"Unless you try to do something beyond
what you have already mastered,
you will never grow."
- Ronald E. Osborn

My personal favorite quotes come from people I know:

Well, now that I know I don't have to tip I just may start having 85 pound little girls help me load my car. ~Fifi

or

Now I'm experiencing mid-life crisis and everything is by the freakin' book. ~Fifi

or then there is this that really speaks to me:

It would have been perfect for this post but even though, I am a mommy blogger, I have to draw the line somewhere. I think that its making my kids wait while they are in pain for me to get a picture is where I am going to draw it.
For now. ~ Jen

And then there is this:

-- Mike is always telling me I'm not allowed to use quotation marks all willy nilly -- that I must be sure I am truly quoting. Of course I say, "Bah" to that, but I figured I would take a moment here to clear myself of any and all future quotation mark abuse. ~Nancy

Channelling Helen Par

2010-11-04T18:00:00.003-06:00

Disclaimer: All right, all right. I know it has been a long time. I thought I could blog about the whole infertility thing. Turns out, it bores me to blog about it. (Not to mention, zaps my creative energy.) The topic still interests me and if I happen to figure it out, you all will be some of the first to know. With that out of the way.....

What I am wanting to know is........when you tell your spouse you have been thinking, does it mean work for them? (Please say yes. I would really hate to be alone on this one.) It seems that every time I speak to the RS lately, "I've been thinking" comes flying out of my mouth. Which roughly translates to I just doubled your "honey do list." I feel a certain amount of guilt over this. Nobody wants a list a mile long, but friends, we have been in this house now almost 4 years. I am ready to finish moving in. What you say?.....still not moved in. For my fellow parent's out there who have seen Disney Pixar's "The Incredibles" a bazillion times, it is kind of like where Helen calls Bob at work and tells him, they have finally moved in, because she has finally unpacked the last box. Even though they have been the house for some time. I feel that way or I mean, I want to feel that way. I am so ready for everything to be put away. Boxes emptied. Everything with a place and in it. Of course, putting things away, requires some painting and hanging and building and moving of pianos and climbing very tall ladders for this week. Next week will probably include a trip to Ikea and some assembling and moving of things and lifting heavy things and hanging some things.

Now is the time for you to come clean. Do you torture the one you love with a list that would make even you shudder? Please tell me that I am not alone.

Until I make here again.......Karen

I Smell Like a Cow......

2010-02-16T21:10:00.007-07:00

I don't know about your house, but at my house there are sea monkeys that get songs stuck in their sweet little heads. When that happens, of course they are kind enough to sing it over and over and over, well you get the point.

Courtesy of the Wild Child, the song of the day is Hungry Like the Wolf, by Duran Duran. The lyrics however, will be sung like this. "I smell cow, I'm lost and found and coming after shoes. I smell like a cow, I'm lost and I'm found and I'm hungry like the Wolf".

No need to thank the Wild Child for these new lyrics that will no doubt be stuck the same way in your head. I am sure given a few more days, she will find something to replace it.

We meet again....

2010-02-13T16:19:00.007-07:00

Based on how I feel today, I am pretty sure there in nothing cooking in my oven. Well other than a toxic combination of hormones resembling a raging case of PMS. No matter how this month turned out, I was going to be happy and sad. Happy to have more time to improve my health and possibly have a quick family vacation to the Happiest Place on Earth. Sad that, once again, I have failed to figure out how to get pregnant. Sometimes I wonder if it's more about the failing and less about being pregnant. Then I realize there is some part of me that feels gypped to not have experienced this uniquely female adventure.

Those of you who know me well, know that I lean towards the natural side of medicine. There is a long list of reasons why, but I am not going to get into that today and not likely here anyway. A little disclaimer here though, I am not anti-modern medicine. I believe it has its place and does a lot of good. Back to the topic at hand. I am working on the natural route first. This being because the Rocket Scientist is looking for new employment and we all know how medical insurance can change drastically from one employer to another. So, natural is a good place to start. I have been reading a few books and doing some research. It is believed that I have PCOS. To my understanding the only way to confirm this is with actual pictures of cysts on ovaries. I believe I have enough symptoms that I am just going to assume that is part of the problem.

So, I have been reading about Qi and herbs and the evils of microwave ovens. Seriously....sometimes I wonder if people honestly can do what they write. I am just sayin'. All that said, I think I will try a total body cleanse this coming week, walking for an hour everyday and buying organic as much as possible. That is about as much as I am willing to commit to this week. I still plan to use my microwave to reheat leftovers and use my shower with out a water filter and only sleeping 7 hours at night. (I just haven't figured out how to get one more hour in.)

In the past few days, I have also learned that there are some medications that may be interfering with the goal at hand. So that will need to be addressed.

I'm wondering, for those of you who have struggled with getting pregnant, did it consume your thoughts? It is absurd to me that it is the first thing on my mind in the morning, the thing I dream about, the thing all conversations lead to......? Really, I wouldn't mind thinking about something else.

Thank you.

2010-02-11T21:24:00.003-07:00

I have been wracking my brain to come up with a clever way to say, "thank you" and that my friend, "Red", rocks!!! Sad to say, I have nothing. Red found the missing hearing aid and relief can be felt for miles around us. Thank you for your prayers. They are much appreciated.

HELLLOOO, where were you made and other randomness?

2010-02-09T20:15:00.006-07:00

The other morning while I was straightening the Wild Child's hair, I notice that she continually is admiring herself in the mirror. I reflect back to when she was a baby and people would stop me and tell me she was the most beautiful baby they had ever seen. In fact her dad, the Rocket Scientist, has mentioned from time to time that her beautiful china doll face never leads one to believe how calculating and feral she really is. Suddenly the Wild Child makes eye contact with me in the mirror and says, "Mom, it looks like I am made in China.."When we load in the mini-van to take the kids anywhere, I holler, "Seat belt check." If the Sea Monkeys have their seat belts on, they holler back, "CHECK." This has been working really well, since then I don't have to question them one-by-one to see who has their seat belts on and who we are waiting for. Yesterday morning, I forget to yell "Seat belt check." The Little Jamaican was not having a change in the routine. She starts yelling, "Check!", from the back of the mini-van and continues to yell it at me until I acknowledge that she has her seat belt on AND say, "Seat belt check." This is when I realize that the 1st One is growing up. "Little Jamaican, the seat belt check is getting really old.", I hear her say. She speaks of it as if it is a catch phrase uttered way past it's time. Next thing you know, I will be embarrassing her with out trying. Oh.....wait, I already do that. She was mortified when I forgot to put on a certain piece of support wear to drive her to school last week. She told me to zip up my coat so no would notice. She kept reminding me that I didn't need to get out of the car. Like I wanted to....It was 24 F.

The Little Jamaican wanted to go out and jump on the trampoline. I am fine with that, I just wanted her to put some clothes on since she was wearing her a "cheerleader" skirt and shirt. When I reminded her she needed on something more than she was wearing, she responded with, "HEEELLLLLOOOOO, Why do you think I am wearing this?" Ya, I'm not sure this is the tone I want to hear from my 5 year old. "Heeellllooooo, it's below freezing out there. Put on your snow pants and a coat." Oh, wait, that isn't actually teaching her to speak respectfully. "Hey, I was thinking that maybe you would put on your snow pants and a coat."
In the past few months, we discovered that My Son has some permanent hearing loss. It is suspect that it is congenital. Strangely, this bit of information brought a thrill of excitement around here. Truly a blessing to find something that, when corrected, would make a huge difference for him. The day he got his hearing aids, his voice level was half as loud. You could see that he was hearing some things for the first time. There was much joy and celebration in our home. The only down side to all of that is.......he is a little boy.......which in this case, translates to one of them is already missing. At $1250.00 a piece used, they are not easy or economical to replace. We have torn the house apart looking for it, scoured the school, harrassed the local library and friends, and actually cleaned out the dumpster on wheels (a.k.a. mini-van). Amazing how in a short period of time there are so many variables of where that missing hearing aid could be. Anyway, if you all wouldn't mind, say a little prayer for the wayward hearing aide to show up. Thank you.

Misread....

2010-02-04T22:19:00.005-07:00

I first have to say thank you to you all for your words of encouragement. It means more to me than I am able to express.

I was under the impression that the Rocket Scientist was on the same page as me. Now I am wondering how I could have mistaken being male with being on board. I have a cold. It isn't horrid, but it's not comfortable and well I did manage to ovulate all on my own this month. Naturally, we "tried" to get "knocked up." This brings me to, I want to take some medicine for this said cold, but won't risk it on the off chance we actually succeeded. We won't really know for about another week. I am really not counting on succeeding already, but I am not willing to play "Russian Roulette" either. So I am lamenting this dilemma to the Rocket Scientist, which really isn't a dilemma, I already know I am not going to take anything. I just wanted someone to agree with me. Being that he is a "Rocket Scientist" and not a "Woman Scientist" and certainly not an "engineer," this is what he says to me. "Or you can quit trying to get pregnant." (You know I had finally quit being mad 'til I just typed it. ARGH!) Clearly, I mis-read his cooperation in this little exercise.

As my editor was "editing," he mentions that I took the quote out of context. He said he was merely pointing out that everything is a trade off. (My poor keyboard was taking some abuse.) I'll let him off the hook this time.......next time though, I would remind you that you are dealing with a woman with fluctuating hormones. There is no telling how I will take such obvious, logical information.

I love you, RS. Always.....

Things to come.....

2010-02-03T20:09:00.006-07:00

I really am struggling to keep my blog up these days. I have thoughts that I want to put there, yet, there is some fear about doing that. You see when I speak, I rarely have time to think through whether or not I am going to offend someone, but when I write.....well I have way too much time to over think it. Speaking of which, if I have offended you, I am sorry. It was never my intent.

I turned 38 recently and I am re-examining my life. I think that is common for mid-life. So maybe this is part of MY mid-life crisis. I am forming new opinions on things rapidly and changing my perspective on things I have only seen one way for decades. Knowing all this also makes me reluctant to put it all out there. If I were naturally funny, it would be easier. However, I am not. The things that happen around me are what is funny in my life. (My sense of humor is intact.)

So I have decided that without a doubt, I am going to try and have a biological child. Here is where the wording is going to get tricky.......I am not attached to the outcome. It is the trying, err...the effort,......eh.......where is the right word........that I am attached to. (You see what I am saying?) Yes, I want more children, but they don't have to be biological. I have never NEEDED them to be biological. So I am sure you are now asking why would I try for a biological child then. As it turns out, I am not a fan of regret. Nope.....not a fan at all. I am worried that when I am 80 I will look back and REGRET not trying or giving it an honest, no holds barred, try to get pregnant.

So here's the thing, I really would like to blog about this. It is going to be tricky. It is such an emotional, tricky, personal subject, but I want a record of it, and I think it couldn't hurt to have a few outside glimpses of what I am embarking on. So, I will try to be respectful and pleasant and all I ask is please try not to judge me for the wacky thoughts I have or the things I try.

So here is where I am starting. I have recently lost about 30 pounds. It is a good start, but another 50 to 70 would be helpful I am certain. In the mean time I have been reading a few books on the subject. Let's just say that I have been learning things about the female body and the way it works that no one, and I really mean no one, should have to know. One of the authors opinions was that one way, out of about a million, to improve your fertility is to never leave the house with wet hair and always wear a hat when it's cold outside. This should be interesting.......

"H-horange"

2010-01-10T20:57:00.007-07:00

The the other day, we were doing some of this and loving it.

My Son starts tugging on my coat and keeps telling me, "Ook, its h-horange. Ook Mom. OOK!" Turning to see what he is pointing to, I see this:

I Can't Make This Stuff Up.

2010-01-07T14:00:00.004-07:00

I will try to approach this subject with finesse and humor. In no way am I intending to offend anyone. (especially my proof reader)

Let's say I know of this couple. If you knew them, you would think that they were madly in love and you would be right. You would also be likely to think that they are living happily ever after. You would be mostly right.

So this couple has a few kids. They are in their late 30's. So the likelihood of what I am about to tell you goes up a bit. You see the man in this relationship has a job that he is not happy in. He has also decided that he is not sure about his chosen profession in general.

So the man and woman are in their kitchen one night after their children are in bed. The wife had removed some pork chops from the freezer the day before and put them in the refrigerator to defrost. Not thinking, the wife did not put a plate under the defrosting offender. There a was a fairly slimy mess that had to be dealt with. The husband is the one to discover this mess. Being that he is the sweetest man to walk the planet, he begins to clean it up with out complaint or ridicule of the wife who so thoughtlessly ruined a fair amount of fruit. Certainly the wife will not allow the husband to clean up her mess alone.

As she begins to help, she notices some clementines on the counter and asks if they were in the drawer that was contaminated. The man responds with, "yes." Any smart wife would have just tossed them.....but not this wife......she begins to check them. It seems that a few of them may have missed the mess since they were in the front of the drawer and on top of the bag. Contemplating that there may be a way to salvage a few of these clementines she asks her husband his opinion. He responds with a very non-committal answer. This is a sore spot with the wife. She tells him he is such an "engineer" that he will not give a definitive answer on such a simple question. To which he responds with something that had the terms, "variables and outliers" in it and something to do with he "gives enough information that someone ought to be able to come to the conclusion on their own." To which the woman responds with, "Can you just give me a definitive answer?" Now the husband is getting a bit irritated. So the wife tosses out the clementines. As the conversation continues, the husband tells the wife to go, he will finish the job. Clearly he is angry. He states somewhere in this discussion that he doesn't like it when he is called an engineer. This of course hits a funny bone with his wife since she has seen his business cards which clearly state he is a specific type of engineer. At first the wife is just snickering, but then, as the whole thing continues to play out in her head, the full-on "cackle," as the husband puts it, comes spilling out.

The wife goes upstairs and washes her face and puts on her PJ's. She can now hear that he has finished cleaning up the mess. The husband makes no attempt to come up to bed even though it is late. Slightly irritated the wife crawls into bed. A few hours later the "non-engineer" makes his way up to bed. The husband is typically the type to be very careful not to wake the sleeping, but not this night. So the wife is awakened. She lays there trying to go back to sleep. Sleep will not come. She finally decides it would be a good idea to climb into the guest bedroom bed and read the letters from when they were dating. The hope was to find reminders as to why she thought this relationship would be a good idea. Would you believe that the first TEN letters read infuriated her more. There was a lot of indefinite-ness in them, at which point, the husband walks into the guest bedroom. He reiterates what was discussed earlier. When he is finished, he asks what he should do now. She suggests he go back to bed and get some sleep. He goes back bed. The wife picks up the eleventh letter and is instantly reminded why she committed to this man. His words, "You are so beautiful. I see your face everywhere. It's in my mind. I look at your pictures as often as I can. None of them do you justice. You have so much grace and class it's unbelievable. I know to you this doesn't seem like anything, but if you knew how it makes me feel inside you'd see a whole side of you that you didn't know existed. I love you." So when the husband came back into the guest bedroom a few minutes later and requested that the wife come sleep next to him so he could sleep, she responded with, "In just a minute. I'll be right there." See, mostly happily ever after.

This should be the end of this post, but the stuff just kept coming. So few days later, the wife is sitting in bed checking e-mail and facebook before going to sleep. As she finishes up she looks over and realizes that the man she married is, and has been, working on something quite intently for a while and is showing no signs of letting up anytime soon. Curious, she asks what he is doing. He responds with all the football teams he has picked to win in college bowls have won. He continues to tell her he is making an algorithm to help him pick the rest of his teams. Remembering the conversation from a few nights before, the wife quietly chuckles to herself. She softly tells him he is making it really hard on her.

A few days after that, one of the couple's children has drawn a picture that so far had included three people. The daughter asks her mother if she knew who the people were. Before the mom could answer, the non-engineer in his mid-life crisis, answers and says, "Is this you and your sisters?" To which the daughter burst out in tears and wails, "I'm not half bald! That's you!"

Like I said, I can't make this stuff up.

Overheard Wednesday

2009-10-14T19:03:00.003-06:00

~ "Mom, some of the of leaves that have changed colors on the trees are the same color as diarrhea."
~ "Oh man......it's a clift hanger!," said at the end of her favorite show.

What Are You Looking At?

2009-10-12T20:29:00.000-06:00

I have gotten to the point that, if I am going to continue to blog, I need a new look. I know there are people for these sorts of things. I would love any and all suggestions, as well as some referrals, to people who might be able to help me. Blog-wise, that is. (Please don't send me numbers to the local therapist. I will ask for those numbers and referrals in a different post.)

As I listen to my children squabble, I begin to wonder if all children come wired with the same faulty programming that requires them to whine, cry, and throw tantrums over a sibling gazing in their direction. I remember as a child, sitting at the table for breakfast, building a fort around my cereal bowl with cereal boxes, because Kaylene, my sister, was either looking at me or my cereal. I know.........the gall of some people. I still clearly remember my annoyance! Humph! Thinking about it still sorta ticks me off. OK, it might be time for you to give me those other numbers now. Back to the topic at hand......You know, my children will actually throw punches over a sibling looking at them. With four kids in the house, there is a good chance, somebody is going to look at you. Since my children are not biological, I am assuming it is not my genetics, and, well, Kaylene doesn't live with us, so I am assuming that it is not environmental. I am going with the faulty wiring theory.

Let's sum up. I need a new look for my blog, and I don't even care if you are looking at me.

Overheard Wednesday

2009-10-07T10:48:00.000-06:00

The title is self explanatory. I really don't want to forget all the cute funny things the Sea Monkeys say, so I am going to record them here. I hear too many things during the week to give each of them their own story, not to mention I would bore you all to tears.

Wild Child says
~"Dad, we found a dead mouse in the lawn at school, but I didn't eat it."
~said in her bed time prayers, "Please help me to get strong enough to crush dad."
~"WBU when you could be you?" She thinks this is hilarious

Little Jamaican
~"Grandma, why does your face always look like that?"
~"Knock, knock" Little Jamaican
Me, "Whose there?"
Little Jamaican, "Banana."
Me, "Banana who?"
Little Jamaican, "Banana butt cheeks." Don't ask me. I don't know. I think we need to find more appropriate knock-knock jokes.

My Son
~"I wanna be da bad guy."

The 1st One
~"I have two words. N-O!"

Swingin' moods

2009-10-05T09:04:00.008-06:00

As I am uploading pictures from my camera yesterday, I came across these:

These are from a day we went out to Promontory to see a static fire. As I look through them, I notice the expressions and can't help but think about this:

Who's coming over?

2009-10-02T08:35:00.007-06:00

Everyday, I get up and suggest to my family that WE need to get the house picked up and cleaned. Everyday, they act as if this is some new form of torture that I have invented to make their lives hellish. What I don't understand is how this is a new concept to them every single day. How they don't get (after years of me telling them, showing them, and reminding them) where the dirty clothes go, where the toys go, and where the trash goes.

Then there are the books. Books are becoming a love-hate type of thing in my house. The 1st One is always reading. Good if you are also willing to help with other stuff and not reading all night instead of sleeping. My Son has two books he wants read over and over and over again. I am so tired of reading about Star Wars I could cry. What is worse, I get to hear the epic battle played out again and again in his bed at night. For an hour you can hear battle cries, clashes, and, my all time favorite, "OH NOOOOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH! HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEE! AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Wild Child will cry for hours if she can not find the book she is looking for and will cry for days if the book she is looking for is in the possession of a sibling. Which brings me to the Little Jamaican.... Oh, that girl! She loves books. I am not sure how the books feel about her. If she would just read them and look at them we would be in good shape, but she likes to build with them, make them into blankets to sleep under at night (don't get me started with that), she likes to draw/color in them, and occasionally remove an offending page from the book. (Sorry I got off on a tangent here.) So the books get left out all over the house.

I would really like to understand what happens in my bathrooms. The combination of paper, water, hair products, and whatever else is in there could seriously cause the EPA to make me placard my bathrooms with signs such as this.
However, the part that has me most perplexed is this. Everyday when I say we are going to pick-up and/or clean the house, the response is always the same. They always ask, "Who's coming over?" They seem to be under the impression that we only need a clean house if we are having guests over. In their defense, I become much more adamant about the task-at-hand when we are expecting people over, but certainly a woman could desire to walk through her living room with out threat to her feet or use a toilet in her own home without having to hover.

So today is no different, I am off to get this place cleaned before we have guests. I am assuming they would rather not hover.

Unfulfilled Expectations

2009-09-30T20:37:00.000-06:00

While attending the family ward for the area I lived in, I was invited by the bishop to attend the singles' ward. If you aren't LDS, wards are where areas are divided up into congregations. I really had no desire to attend but decided to give it a try. There was a chance I would meet some people I would like and maybe I would enjoy the change of scenery. So...I decided to go one Sunday.

Sacrament meeting was fine, though a little strange since there were no babies crying, no kids fighting over crayons in loud whispers, no mommies or daddies standing in the back rocking a child, or all the other things that were so comforting to me about a family ward. The family ward had all the right sounds as far as I was concerned.

I remember nothing of Sunday School that day, but in Relief Society (women's organization within the church), was a lesson I will never forget. The topic was on "Unfulfilled Expectations." Truth is, we all go through this in our lives. We all have times that we expect things will go one way and they go another. Learning to deal with these with faith and grace is something most of us desire. Did I mention I was 21? That is an important piece of information in this story. At this point in my life I had had my fair share of disappointment, not more than most, just the average amount. There was much for me take from this lesson until it turned into something else all together.

As there were many women in this Relief Society approaching 30, the lesson turned into "Why am I not married?" At 21, I knew why I wasn't married. It was because I didn't want to be yet. Besides that, I had to wait till I was 22 to meet Prince Charming. Though now, with maturity, I can clearly see why, within my religion's culture, that would put some into a certain amount of distress. At the time, I could not wait to get out of there. I had a whole life ahead of me filled with twists and turns and accomplishments and, yes, unfulfilled expectations. I had plenty of time to find the person I wanted to build my forever with.

Which brings me to this.......I will be 38 in January. I am OK with that. (Well mostly) Maybe I am having a mini mid-life crisis. The doctor whom I renamed suggested that I had 'til 40 to try and have biological children. After that, he said we are pretty much done. So now I am wondering, if I think I am happy just having the 4 beautiful, amazing, though somewhat feral children, or will I later find myself with unfulfilled expectations? If I have another one or two will it be more than I can handle? Is it worth all the heartache and the emotional roller coaster that is the treatment for infertility? Will I regret not trying everything under the sun to get pregnant? Will I be OK not knowing what might have been? I have children, so I fulfilled that expectation, but still, all the other questions I don't have answers for, threaten my peace of mind.

So my real problem is this: I am fence sitting. With things like this, taking no action and not making a choice almost always leads to Unfulfilled Expectations. You are left feeling like you had no control in the situation or you had control and forfeited said control. I want to make a choice, and know that I made the right one, so that I don't look back with regrets.

So, there you have it. My unwelcomed deep thoughts for the day. I was hoping for a light and funny post, but this is what came pouring out. Huh.......

Perspective.......

2009-09-29T09:15:00.001-06:00

What am I teaching them?

2009-09-26T21:17:00.000-06:00

Tonight we went out for ice cream cones at McD's as a family. Now this particular location is the nicest I have ever been in and has service that out does most other restaurants in the area. As we are sitting there in the dining area eating our ice cream cones, Fox News is going on all the TV's. There is coverage on Obama's comments to Iran; there are comments on school children singing praises to Obama; and lots and lots of other Obama stuff from the panel of commentators they have on. I think my children are not even paying attention. Then I hear the Wild Child say, "Hey, I think that was President Obama." Wondering what she was thinking relative to that, I asked her what she thought about President Obama. Her very certain reply, "Obama is just like Satan." "What? Why would you say that Wild Child?" I ask as I look around to see who might have overheard her. The 1st One chimes in with, "Well, he tells lies." Huh..... Now I am thinking, "Have I ever lead them to believe that I think our president is less than honorable?" I was clear during the elections that I was not in favor of either canidate. That I was not certain of their sincerity or their integrity. When he was going to speak to the school children, I told my children that we would discuss whatever the President had to say when they came home since I was not sure of what he would say. I did not know if he would say something contrary to what we believe or not. (Their school opted to not show the brodcast so it ended up being a non-issue.) All that into consideration, I am not sure I would have jumped to the conclusion that "Obama is just like Satan.", though I may have jumped to the "Well, he tells lies." It really makes me wish there was more honesty in politics. I wish that we did not have to question everything that our politicians say, that we could trust whatever came out of Washington, our states, counties, and cities.

Anyway, I think it is safe to say that I have minority children who are not in favor of the current administration. I will have to ask some more questions soon to see how they came to these conclusions and why they feel the way they do. It will be interesting to hear what they have to say.

Hot Pursuit.....

2009-09-25T20:21:00.005-06:00

Sometimes I think it is just a matter of time before I find myself wondering where I went wrong.... Wondering why I am seeing one of my sweet beautiful children on an episode of "COPS." It's not so much the lack of respect for my authority or the screaming they hate me when we have to leave the mall play area or even the brawls they get into with each other that worry me the most. It is their sense of adventure. The constant question in their mind that says, "I wonder what will happen if I do this?" You know like when the Wild Child cut up a whole mess of stuff in her brother's closet or the feathers, knee deep in a bedroom, when they opened a down pillow.

Today, it was the Little Jamaican who let that question get the best of her. All morning long, before kindergarten, I kept asking her to find her homework so we could turn it in today. She kept telling me it was lost and that she couldn't find it. Every time I reminded her, she was watching TV. (Dora has a way of sucking that child in.) Finally, I turn off the TV and tell her she has to find it. After a half-hearted attempt, and claiming it was no where to be found, I started looking for it myself. I found it a short time later. So this is why I was so surprised when we went to load up in the family mini-van to hear her exclaim, with a smirk on her face, "Look what I did, Mom." I looked to find she had drawn on the side of the van with what appears to be permanent marker. What concerned me most, was, after losing some privileges and a scolding, she still could not wipe that little smirky smile off her face.

So, all the marker did not come off, but more than I thought would did. So this has me wondering, "When I will be getting that call to come post bail?"

Let's Say.......

2009-07-13T08:12:00.001-06:00

Let's say that someone's six year old insists that her clothes match, even though this someone knows they do not. Let's say the six year old continues her campaign until said someone does not care anymore. This sweet six year old now believes that she can argue anything to become her version of reality. Now, I see no sense in arguing with a six year old over trivial matters. If she wants to wear mismatched clothing, by all means have at it. BUT, do not expect me to tell you it matches.

I have noticed adults around me who have learned similar lessons. Adults who think that selective memory is going to save them from harsh realities. Some think they can out wait whatever it is that they don't want to deal with, thus making it a non-issue. Others believe they can convince those around them that their mismatched socks do indeed match.

This reminds me that in many places, if you do not know the law and you break it, you are still held accountable. Even if you are amazing at rationalizing your actions, most would still hold you accountable for a myriad of transgressions. For instance, we once thought we had re-registered one of our vehicles and found out later when a ticket was given to a family member that it was not. The officer did not care that we were certain we had done our duty. He didn't care it was not my family member's truck. He especially did not care that we never got a renewal notice.

When I started this post I thought my frustration was with people choosing to be oblivious as a defense mechanism, when, as it turns out, my frustration seems to be more with rationalization. Huh..... This is another fabulous reason to blog. It is so much cheaper than therapy.

Quotable's from the Wild Child.

2009-07-11T11:00:00.000-06:00

There are days I hear things from my children that I could never make up on my own. The Wild Child says something almost daily that cause me to quietly chuckle to myself. The world through her eyes is a much more interesting place, than the world through mine.

There was a day this past week that the quotable's were flying faster than I could write them down. (If I didn't write them down, they would be gone from memory in 24 hours.)

We have once again been invaded by earwigs. I would like to go on record that I HATE those things. EWWWW! I have been killing 100's a night. We have been using all kinds of methods to rid ourselves of these annoying creatures. I am happy to report as of last night I only killed 4 in the house. I still found one in the bed, but he was dead, so I can live with the progress made. The Sea Monkeys are not as afraid this year of the earwigs. In fact, they will kill earwigs themselves. Anyway, I digress, to get these little pests under control, a trip to my local IFA was in order. That store has a wide variety of solutions and potions to get rid of any pest that ails you. I tell the Sea Monkeys before entering the store that they must keep their hands to themselves because there would poisons and such. If you have spent anytime with children, you know they had to touch everything. Upon checking out, I ask the clerk if they had public restrooms so my children might wash their hands. She pointed me in the direction and we headed down the long hall way. I am thinking.....If we are here, we should all make a pit stop. I can only talk My Son and the Little Jamaican into such a thought. As I am headed out of a stall, I can hear the 1st One and the Wild Child discussing the vending machine in the women's bathroom. "What is it?" I hear the 1st One ponder. "Well, I know that one is a cigarette.", I hear the Wild Child explain, "But I don't know what that one is." Then I hear the 1st One ask, "Mom, what's a taaaaam.....what's a taaammmmmpooooon?" During our trip to this wonderland of woman's bathroom vending machines, a sales associate has come to use the facilities. She can no longer control her snickers and is full on cracking up behind her stall door.

Later, I have to go to Costco to pick up some prints of pictures my sweet SIL took for me. I tell my kids that we are going to pick up something kind of fun. I hear grumbling and displeasure from the back seats. Then above the murmuring I hear the Wild Child rant, "I know you are NOT going to buy anything fun! NOTHING! You're not buying a water slide or a swimming pool OR A UNICYCLE ARE YOU?" What??? A unicycle? When did Costco start selling those? Apparently we have different ideas of fun.

Finally it is time for the Rocket Scientist to come home from work. I love that time of day. I love to see his beautiful blue eyes and the way he makes sure to come kiss me when he walks in the door. I must say, this guy knows how to make his wife feel special. This day is no different. There were no comments from the peanut gallery. Huh? I should have known better. As I continued to work on the kitchen, the Rocket Scientist thought he would steal another kiss. This time the Sea Monkeys notice. "EEEEEWWWW," collectively. That is every parents right to scar their children with the knowledge that their parents kiss. But then.....the Wild Child pipes up with, "I know what kind of kiss that is! It's a China kiss!" Seriously, it was more than a peck, but it had no definitive nationality. Really!

So to sum it up here. They sell cigarettes in the women's bathrooms called taaaampoooons. Unicycles are the epitome of fun and China kissing has been observed. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

Did You Think I Would Ever Blog Again?

2009-07-10T10:13:00.000-06:00

There were moments I had my doubts too. Since the beginning of the year I have struggled with emotional survival. The loss of loved ones, the pressures of motherhood and other various things were threatening to crush me emotionally. I am not complaining and I am certainly not making excuses, I am just coming clean.

I love to look at life like I am a spectator sometimes instead of a participant. I love how that changes my perception of "situations." That said, recently a "situation" happened to someone I adore. No matter how I look at it, I often lose perspective. I have not wanted to blog. I was afraid I would say something I shouldn't or perceive something to be something it is not.

I am feeling stronger now and my sense of humor is returning. I have a bunch of blog fodder and am ready to to start flinging it. Not to mention, I am jonesing to catch up with the blogs I follow.

Is Mexico Know For It's Salt or It's Restrooms?

2009-05-20T20:30:00.002-06:00

Last week or was that a week and a half ago......anyway, driving to Carson City, NV, for my grandfather's funeral, we made many pit stops. At one point a family member we were traveling with threatened to put her 30 year old husband in Depends. Truthfully, it was those under the age of 8 that we stopped for the most. As we are rolling into the rest area at the Salt Flats, the little Jamaican looks around and asks with all the excitement of Christmas morning, "Are we in Mexico?" I have never been to Mexico, but this is not what I expect it to look like, but to the Little Jamaican, it might as well have been. This part of Interstate 80 is about the most boring stretch of road ever. That is unless you get out, walk around in the salt, taste it if you are one of my Sea Monkeys, which the Wild Child emphatically exclaimed, "It's just like real salt!", or desperately need a restroom and have just found one.

My Mom's Parents.....

2009-05-06T18:00:00.006-06:00

So these thoughts starting flowing about the time I had no time to share them. I am frantically trying to get everything ready so that we can leave Friday morning for my grandpa's funeral. But, since the thoughts are here I will find some time when I should be sleeping to make up for the time I am spending now to write down my thoughts.

My first memory of my grandparents is at their home in South Lake Tahoe. If you have never been to Tahoe, you owe it to yourself to go at least once in your life. To me it is heaven. On the occasions I was permitted to stay with my grandparents for a few nights, I would get to sleep between them in their bed. (There were never any monsters in Grandma and Grandpa's bed.) I remember how the carpet smelled in their house. Is that weird? I remember celebrating Christmas in their house. The snow and the hill in the backyard was perfect for sledding. I can still see my grandma hanging out her clothes to dry on a line that was on a pulley that went from the eaves of the house to the other side of the yard. She would stand there and hang one article of clothing at a time, pulling the line to make room for the next. My grandma was a bit of a neat freak, but she never made you feel unwelcome because of it. You know how things like pillows shift when you sit on a couch? Well when you got up she would straighten them when you weren't looking. You would have to be sneaky if you wanted to catch her doing it. When we would first arrive at my grandparents, my grandpa would pick us up and hug us so tight that I was sure he loved me more than anyone else loved me. He could hug so tight that sometimes I thought it would be OK if he loved me a tiny bit less.

Some years later my grandparents moved to Carson City, Nevada, which was great since that is where we lived at the time. Grandparents closer is always good. I remember sitting at the bar in my grandma's kitchen while she cooked us "noodle soup" for lunch, aka Top Ramen. I loved that stuff as a kid. When the soup was too hot, she would pour a little cold water in the soup to help it cool. Well one day we must have had her a little frazzled because when my sister said hers was too hot, grandma poured a little milk in my sister's soup. Grandma was clearly annoyed at what she had done, but my sister didn't care. She ate it anyway. Not long after that we learned that my grandma had cancer.

I know that my grandfather spent his life savings trying to save his wife. There was never any question about how grandpa felt about grandma. So much so that when my grandma's health started to really decline, the nurse who cared for my grandma commented that she wished someone would love her even half as much as my grandpa loved my grandma. My grandma knew she was going to die. She would say, "I don't know what the Lord has planned for me, but I wish he would just get on with it." My grandma died shortly after my eighth birthday. I still miss her almost 30 years later. Before she died, she had a "heart-to-heart" with my grandpa that no wife ever wants to have with her husband. Grandma knew that Grandpa needed a wife or he would be miserable and difficult to deal with and she told him so. As they were having this conversation she expressed to him that she wanted him to re-marry and that she thought he should marry the nurse that cared for her. Now I ask you......Could you do that? I love my husband fiercely and I would want him to be happy......I just don't know if I could know who she was or pick her out. OK, truthfully, I don't know if I can really stand the thought of him being married to anybody but me, but the Rocket Scientist would have to re-marry too. Months after my grandma passed away, my grandpa married my Grandma Carma. She was the nurse that cared for my grandma.

One of the coolest things about gaining another grandma was that I gained two more aunts and an uncle. (Grandma Carma's children from another marriage.) Something that I have always been thankful for. It honestly felt like more people to love and more people to love me. When I was twelve, we moved away from Carson City, but through the years we have visited often.

When my grandpa passed away a little over week ago I felt like I knew him better in his last days here with us than I did before. Funny how someone all of your life has been "framed" one way. To me he was just Grandpa. As I looked at his large frame in what seemed like a tiny hospital bed, I realized for the first time, he was a lot more than Grandpa. He was the son of Swedish immigrants, a brother (number two of five children) , a father of seven children and a husband. He was a business owner, a friend, and a man with dreams, goals, failures, and accomplishments. I also learned there was more to his sense of humor than I knew most of my life. For instance, my grandpa loved caffeine-free Diet Coke and chocolate chip cookies. In fact I have heard it said that he was the original Cookie Monster. I am certain for the last couple of years that he has tried to sustain his life on this particular diet, though there were many that tried to convince him to eat things that were better for him. When my grandpa knew he was going to die in a few days, my Grandma Carma asked him if he thought there would be Diet Coke in heaven. His reply was "Nooooo!" Grandma Carma then asked, "Then what will you drink, Ed?" His quick as a whip reply was, "I'll just drink water."

I have more stories about my grandpa I will share in following posts, but for now, it's back to laundry and getting ready to get out of town. Thanks for listening......

I'm Still Here and Other Blah Blah......

2009-05-03T20:32:00.002-06:00

I have had blog material flying at me. I have had things I have desperately needed, wanted to record so that I would have it to look back at and chuckle. Yet.....you have all heard nothing from me. Even if I don't get out here what I want to share, I will for go sleep to hear what you, my trusted bloggy friends have to say. So why the absence?

Here is my excuse:

To whom it may concern: Please excuse Karen for neglecting her blog and yours for the past couple of weeks. Her grandfather recently passed away and she has felt she needed to write a post about him and his life before she did any more blogging. This has turned out to be more difficult than she would have expected. She had no idea that she would miss him so much or have such difficulty expressing her thoughts and feelings and organizing the facts. Sincerely, Karen's Self-defense Department.

I have come to realize a few things about me. Anything I put in this blog is here because I don't want to forget. I also care that you read it or want to read it. I shouldn't care, but I think if it isn't something you want to read.....how will I ever be able to get my posterity to be interested in what my life was. These thoughts also bring me to want to make sure all my facts are straight. (Especially in regards to my grandpa.) I suppose I think of this blog as my journal and one day plan to publish it at Blurb or something like that so that one day my when I leave this earth, my grandchildren and great-grandchildren will know who I was. They will know what I cared about. They will know that my life was not perfect, but that in time most pain fades and love remains.

So if you made it through all that.....I am working on a post about my sweet grandpa that will make you smile. Until I get it finished, this is what I heard from the Wild Child and the 1st One today:

1st One: Mom, Wild Child has lotion all over her bed rails.
Me: (Raise eyebrow.)
Wild Child: Dad said I could. It's so that bad guy won't be able to steal me.
Me: (Shaking my head)
1st One: (Starts helping the Wild Child put more lotion on the side rails of the loft bed.)
Me: (Thinking, why didn't I think of that.)

Questions and Estrogen Don't Mix

2009-04-28T19:42:00.001-06:00

Last week, after picking up the 1st One and the Wild Child from school, a heated debate erupted from the back seat. This is not new news. It happens almost daily. The new part was the topic of disagreement.

The Wild Child asked if ducks have tongues. The 1st One insists that they do because she has seen a duck's tongue before. The Wild Child of course is not convinced that her sister is right. Then the "you're stupids" and the "I hate yous" are flying before I can even begin to say, "I don't know if ducks have tongues, but we can look it up as soon as we get home." Fortunately they mellowed until the Wild Child and her inquisitive brain decided to try one more time to start World War 3. In her sweet little voice she asks, "Mom......Are pandas bears?" Once again before I can respond the 1st One is answering with, "Panda-BEAR, Polar-BEAR, they are BEARS!" You know that infuriated the Wild Child and the insults were flying again. I just don't get enough of that, so before my head exploded, I explained we would look that up to when we got home and there was to be no more talking. Finally, two seconds peace.

So if you are wondering......All birds have tongues, even ducks. As for the panda, well, scientists don't seem to be able to agree either. Some say they are more like raccoons and others say they are more like bears. Fortunately, that was acceptable to my girls.

Wonder Woman and other Thoughts by Red.

2009-04-23T10:28:00.005-06:00

My friend, who I refer to as Red, has been kind enough to write a guest post for me. I love her sense of humor and her ability to enjoy the good with the bad.

Enjoy.....

How is it that some people seem to have 48 hour days while the rest of us get 24? I recently met a woman who is the author of five books, works as an attorney, is involved in her local city government, has four young adult sons, and if that isn't enough, she's undergoing radiation treatments for breast cancer. Adding to life's challenges is the recent job loss of her husband forcing the necessitation of selling their home. And to top it all off, she's chipper, thoughtful, and positive. If it was me, local donut shops would need to get busy making enough product to satisfy all my stress-diverting, fattening but comforting, circular sweet treat needs.

That sort of woman must have (and deserves) one of those magical Samantha-from-Bewitched noses to accomplish so much. I'm probably better off as a 24-hourer (I know that's not a word). My only potential superhero trait is Super Spelling and I've got a long way to go to get there. When "Lightning-fast Mood Swings" becomes an acceptable superhero power, I'm golden! I should be content as-is; it would be hard to deal with the intense chafing caused by those Wonder Woman gold bracelets-- especially with the price of Neosporin these days.

I'd like to have a mature, spiritual, and professional response to my new Wonder Woman friend having to go through radiation and other difficult challenges... but all I can think is THAT IS SO LAME. I'd say it "sucks" but using that word here in Utah could brand me as a heretic and we're already on thin ice since the overt display of black skeleton lawn flamingos last Halloween. In the past, when our attitudes or behavior were outside the Utah Acceptability Code, we'd just say, "We're Californians," and people would tilt their heads and nod with understanding, but we've lived here for six years now so that doesn't fly anymore.

Breast cancer is such a no-fair disease. No real rhyme or reason to its targets. I was going to say its "victims" but women are too strong for a word like that. I've had quite a bit of it in my family. I was even tested for the BRCA gene after I let my paranoia get the better of me (I don't have it but that isn't a guarantee). I was considering a preventative mastectomy at the time. My aunts, both breast cancer survivors first diagnosed before 50, strongly advised me against it. I thought it might be good to get rid of potentially hazardous tissue-- especially if I could use the empty space more efficiently by having a zipper implanted so I could use them as coin purses. My old stick-in-the-mud doctor said no... what a dream squasher.

As a mom in year five of chronic neck pain from something not my fault (a car accident caused by a guy looking down to roll up his window and smashing into the back of me), I can imagine a little of what it is to be sidelined by health issues. Like Wonder Woman, I was one who didn't like wasting time. In my past on-the-move life, I even taped Ensign articles to my shower door each day so I didn't waste time just standing there washing my hair (cuckoo! cuckoo!). Since the accident, I've adjusted my time/accomplishment ratio to suit my physical limitations.

When I was in pain, I'd say to my Heavenly Father, as nicely as possible, "Do you know how much good I could accomplish if I wasn't in agony every day?!" Alas, He had so much in store for me to learn. I still think I would've been just as good a student if He dropped a "What to Learn from Challenges" book at my feet, but whatever. He's in charge. The old "These experiences make you stronger" bit sounds hollow amidst suffering. I just thought, "Poop! I'm strong enough; any stronger and I'd have freakishly broad man shoulders or be a major no-necker like those weird body builder guys." (Oh, no offense if you know any of those men. I'm sure their personalities are A+.)

I don't at all mean to make light of what must be a head-popping, stressful time of life for WW. I assume from the sweet, hilarious, and great attitude of her messages that she's not usually in the mood for seriousness. I'm just getting into writing what I want again after not having more time or energy for anything other than my work as a correspondent and mother of six so meeting yet another person who gets so much done is a thrill.

WW's willingness to add to her list of responsibilities with community service work amazes me. I hope she's up and at 'em faster than a flash. I know she's added yet another person (me!) in the world who'll be praying for her to bounce back faster than... a speeding bullet? ...hair after a bad perm?... that springy thing at the bottom of a door? ... one of those boxing things on a pole that goes BOING when someone way stronger than me hits it? Well, you get the idea.

It's great to have all sorts of friends; overachievers, underachievers, donut eaters or marathon runners., I like them all. A wide variety of people in one's life keeps things interesting. For those of us stuck with only 24 hours in a day, I say "Hang in there. Just do your best, my healthy-wristed sisters." I try to be a friend to all types because even wonder women need a break sometimes. And when they do, I'll be there to help, Neosporin in hand.

Is Flunk a Bad Word?

2009-04-21T17:41:00.003-06:00

You know the moments in life you hope desperately to avoid? The 1st One has brought it to my attention that I will have many a minutes like this in my life.

In the 1st One's sweet innocence the other day, she tells me the book she is reading has a bad word in it. Thinking to myself, "What is she reading?" I decide to ask her what the word is. She spells it for me. "F-L-U-N-K." Wow, OK, well. I explain though this word is not a bad word, no one likes to flunk. I lamely try to give her a definition she will understand. She insists that her teacher said that is was a bad word. I think for a minute......"Well, it sort of sounds like a really bad word, but flunk is not a bad word." Her reply, "Oh, (insert F-bomb here) is a bad word!" I finish hyperventilating, knowing that all my children have now logged that word somewhere in their sweet little heads to be used as ammo in the future. I say that yes, she is right. "Sweetheart, that is the worst swear word I know of. So much so, that Mommy has never said it. Please don't ever say that again. OK?" Amazingly enough, she has been very mad at me for the last few days, but has not used that lovely word. I am counting my blessings.

Red's Funny Sarcasm

2009-04-16T13:13:00.000-06:00

I have a friend who makes me laugh on a regular basis. I believe that such friends are the stuff that sanity is made of. Even when this friend is having a not so pleasant day, she has a way of making me laugh. The following is an e-mail she sent me, on St. Patrick's Day. I got permission to share it, though she thinks that I will be the only one to think it's funny. You will all have to let me know if it's just my warped sense of humor or if my friend is truly funny.

Here is what you need to know before reading this. Red has six children ranging from 16 to 5 years of age. Alice is the oldest and Holly the youngest. Mike is her husband. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent.....or whatever.....

"Remember all the kind things I said about Alice? Yeah, scratch that! Mike went out to the garage last night and the car door was open. He told me to check everything in my purse. My ATM card was missing. Last night Alice asked if she could go get Boca burgers from the store. I said yes. When I realized my card was gone, I called her and asked if she'd seen it. "No," was her quick reply. She said she'd look through her stuff just in case. Mike called the bank and a $4 purchase had just been made at Leeker's. When Alice got home, I confronted her in the garage. She still said she hadn't seen it. After she could tell I was going to shove my fist through her lying teeth, she pulled my card out of her shirt! I asked her how many times she'd done that before and she said, "I don't know. Maybe once or twice." Ha! What a fricking liar! As Mike reviewed our statements, it turns out she's made quite a few purchases at 7-11, a place I never go, over the last 3 months or more. She's probably stolen hundreds of dollars. All the while, laughing to herself as I defended her as a good person over and over.

I called the police, made sure it wouldn't go on her record, and asked them to come scare the crap out of her. Gotta love the local P.D. He said, "I can do two things: come talk to her while you're there or come put handcuffs on her and talk to her in my patrol car. I prefer the tough way." Yeah, we voted for the latter. He came over, put handcuffs on her as she cried her little whiny-butt tears and took her to his car to talk with her about what a felony is. This was all around 12:30 a.m. Nice!

I hope she got the message. I never get fit-throwing mad, but I sure was last night. I threw a shoe at her. I wanted to beat her senseless with it! I would prefer a kid who was defiant to my face over a sneak and a liar- she knows that. It sucks to be played for a fool. Perfect timing for Mike to leave out of town for the week, too. He was trying to be the good cop (he's usually the butthead- totally hard-nosed with her), joking and stuff. He's lucky he didn't leave this morning having to pass through the metal detector with my shoe up his butt!

Lucky visited our house this morning but he wasn't happy about forcing a celebration to a house of contention. I think our Lucky is in the slammer because his replacement wasn't nearly as festive. He did put an L on all the kids' foreheads. Unfortunately, Alice's stood for liar. If you see flames at our house, don't worry. It's just Alice's pants on fire.

So, that's more than you wanted to know about our day. I'm dropping the kids at school and sleeping for awhile. Holly is dying to watch the new Spongebob--today's her lucky day! I know Alice will be O.K. in the end. She is a good person, but to be honest, I'd rather her be a skank than a liar. It's probably good parents don't get to choose their kids' faults. After seeing what serious trouble they can get into, I'd probably choose the package that includes no sense of humor, Chicklet teeth, a hyena laugh, a peg leg and an affinity for collecting scabs. While those things may put a damper on one's social life, at least they'd be honest. Grrr.. sometimes this parenting gig sucks big time! (Really, I'm not bitter either!)"

Just for the record, Red is an exceptional mother. Alice was not hit by a shoe.....Red's aim is bad. Alice has been making better decisions, Mike made it through airport security, lucky for him and as for Lucky the leprechaun.......well, I guess we will have to see if he shows up next year.

No Loving Here

2009-04-14T16:22:00.003-06:00

I can't remember if I have ever mentioned that as a family we struggle with traditions of our own. The Rocket Scientist had a very different version of the same holidays than I did growing up. Though, we don't argue about it, we haven't really set many traditions of our own.

One tradition we have managed to set is our Sunday night. We gather as a family and watch Extreme Makeover, Home Edition. Either the Rocket Scientist will make popcorn or I will make something else to snack on and we watch this show. I love this time. The kids will usually cuddle with us on the couch and we get to watch something of value. It is honestly about the only TV I get to see in a week.

Well Sunday night, the Wild Child announces in a very disgruntled voice, "I hate this show. It is just about loving and taking care of people and houses!" The RS and I did a double take and stifled our giggles. I think it actually comes down to she doesn't like to see me cry, but whatever. She got over it and was sitting next to me by the time they were taking down the old house.

After every episode, we talk about what we can do as a family to make this world a better place. The kids have some interesting ideas, but we will save that for another post.

Happy Easter with some of my favorite's

2009-04-12T10:11:00.000-06:00

By Del Parson

Have you ever noticed that most children when shown a picture of Christ know who it is almost every time. Well unless your grandma dates a man with a beard and your great-grandma has a dog that looks like a lamb. When my nephew Michael was little, like four-ish, his mother showed him a picture, similar to the one above. Michael's grandma dates a man named Jim, who has a very neatly trimmed beard. Jim is a very nice and attractive man who is very much family. Michael's great-grandma had a little, fluffy, curly haired dog named Boodrow. When four year old Michael was shown said picture and asked who it was, he replied, "That's Jim and Boodrow."

I know that there are rules about using others work on your blog, so I hope I am following protocol. I have linked all the pictures back to where you can learn more about the artist and/or purchase their work if you feel so inclined. These are some of my favorites and Easter seemed like the appropriate day to share them. I am partial to those that depict Christ with children. They evoke feelings of reverence, love and peace for me. Feeling that are far to absent in the world.

Do you have a favorite? I would love to see it. Send me a link......

Art by Greg Olsen

Art by Liz Lemon Swindle

Art by Del Parson

Art by Del Parson

Art by Simon Dewey

Happy Easter.

Shopping for a Chandelier with the Wild Child

2009-04-07T17:01:00.006-06:00

You really have no idea how much fun it is to shop for a new light fixture with the Wild Child. We went to Lowes to replace the chandelier in out kitchen. The old one was plenty nice, just too small for the room.

When we get there, I go over the the oiled bronze, wrought iron and/or brown fixtures since that is what everything else in the house is. The Wild Child tells me she does not like these lights because they look old and broken to her. So I ask her what she does like. She shows me this and others like it:

Though I think this light is gorgeous, it is just not going to work in my kitchen eating space.

There was much debate over three different lights that I liked. I let the Wild Child give her input as to which one she liked and why. This the is the one we chose:

The Wild Child liked it because of the "pineapple." When we get home later that night, I tell the Rocket Scientist that I bought the new light and needed him to install it. Then the Wild Child proceeds to tell her dad, "We bought the one with pineapple on it that looks like a disco ball." Anyone feel like dancing?

Lay me off....

2009-04-01T17:50:00.001-06:00

Yesterday there were lay-offs in my husbands company. I can't help but think about those families who now are wondering what is next for them. Up until yesterday morning, I feared a lay-off like any other SAHM. Somehow yesterday morning after many sleepless hours because of an unwanted dream, I came to terms with a lay-off. In fact, I wanted it. It would mean a new adventure. A new start. It wasn't us though. I am afraid that it was another family craving the security a job brings. Funny how life is always throwing you curve balls.

My bloggy friend Nancy, who is almost my neighbor as of a few months back, so eloquently said what I am feeling, though, they are her feelings. We must be drinking the same water.

Ohh.....I have issues.

2009-03-31T21:45:00.004-06:00

Yes, you read the title right. I have issues. They may be related to not having enough sleep or to how stressful today was, but either way, I feel like trouble.

I, like so many others these days, have gotten sucked into the Facebook world. I tried to resist for a long time, but so much of my family was there, I gave in so I could keep in touch. Before I knew it I had 108 friends. Some of them old boyfriends. This really is no problem...other than on days like today when I am just not right. Let me be clear, I am just looking to torment them, strictly for my amusement. You know, like send them a dozen or so nominations for "most lovable person" or better yet, how about a 250,000 "kidnap'd" request. Trust me, these are people who have no time for such silly applications. I have no ill or romantic feelings for these guys. None. I'm just in that mood that doesn't say much for what kind of person I am. I want to be amused and that would so entertain me.

Ahhh, never mind, I've got a Rocket Scientist here that I can torment instead. I wonder how he feels about watching chick flicks till 4:00AM?

You all have a good night.

Dreams of a Crazy Woman

2009-03-26T20:34:00.000-06:00

Thank you friends for all the well wishes. The Rocket Scientist is back at work. The 1st One is back to school. The Wild Child has bronchitis, but is now on the mend and My Son and the Little Jamaican, it is believed by the doctor that, they have allergies. So things are looking up around here.

When the alarm went off this morning the first thought in my head was something left over from a dream. Not a pleasant dream, not really a nightmare either. It was just enough to make me question taking Benadryl before bed. The thoughts going through my head when I awoke were these: "It is so sad that Mick Romney is dead." I need to disclose that I know no one named Mick, not a Romney or other wise. So as I am trying to get conscious I realize this and wonder if something happened to Mitt Romney. Fortunately after scanning the news for 10 minutes, it would appear that the previous presidential hopeful is just fine.

There have been other times that in a dream my Rocket Scientist has done something unsavory and I have awakened very angry with him. Why is that? I know that it was just a dream, though, I am still furious with him. Poor guy, he has to pay for what my mind makes up at night.

Then there is the dream I had when we were still somewhat newly-weds. The Rocket Scientist's mom had passed away in November and his dad decided that a family ski vacation to Mammoth was in order. So in January, we joined his family on said ski trip. We all stayed in a condo in the area. The second level of this condo was a loft that was open to below. There were two queen size beds up there. So the RS and I took one bed and the RS's younger brother and the love of his life took the other. Below in the family room, my FIL slept on the couch and a couple of the RS's older brother's kids slept in sleeping bags on the floor. I am dreaming away one of those nights about having to make it to my best friend's wedding and that I can not get the Rocket Scientist off the mountain so that I can go get ready. I continue to plead my case. As the dream goes on, the RS is now driving me to the wedding and even though there is still time for me to shower, he is ignoring my requests. I become more persistent that I want to take a shower. I begin repeating over and over again, "I want to take a shower! I want to take a shower! I want to take a shower!" In my dream, I get louder and louder as it seems that my demands are falling on deaf ears. It wasn't long after that I was awakened to my husband trying to quiet my yells, my SIL snickering, and my BIL telling me to take a shower then. Fortunately, I woke no one below. To make this story complete, I need to say that, yes, I was mad at the RS all day long that day. Yes, I was allowed a shower, but I was already ticked, though not his fault.

My question to you now is, do others pay for what you dream about?

Looking for the Health Fairy

2009-03-25T09:13:00.003-06:00

There is some junk in the air over here. The Rocket Scientist has Walking Pneumonia, the Sea Monkeys are coughing and stuffy and honestly, I am still not right. If there is a Health Fairy for our family, I'm thinking that she's vacationing in Bermuda.

So anyone out there have any home remedies they swear by when they or their kids get sick? What about prevention? You have something that works well? Please share......We are thinking of buying stock in in Kleenex.

Malibu and Weddings....

2009-03-23T14:47:00.009-06:00

Did I ever mention that the Rocket Scientist and I lived in California when we were newlyweds? We lived in the Los Angeles area in the sun and smog. There were so many things I loved about living there. The food, the ocean, the sunsets, the palm trees, the public transportation that I knew like the back of my hand, the Central and South American cultures melting into North American culture, and the ocean breeze.

This past weekend, the Rocket Scientist and I had the pleasure of being apart of our dear friend Kevin's wedding celebration. The Rocket Scientist met Kevin while going to school. I can hardly believe it's been more than 13 years since we left Southern California. For all the places we visited while we lived there, we never once made it to Malibu. I assumed it looked like the rest of the area. I should have known better. Our friend Kevin and his lovely bride were married in Malibu over looking the ocean on Saturday. It was beautiful. Some how that word does not seem to be enough to describe the setting or the wedding. The canyons in the area, I am told are reminiscent of Hawaii, bright green hills only to be broken up by the soft blue/grey of the ocean. The groom so happy I thought he would spontaneously combust and enough love in the air to fill the ocean.

Congratulations Kevin and Angelique! May your years be filled with as much beauty and love as your wedding day.

Have you met Lucky?

2009-03-19T12:09:00.006-06:00

I'm still not up to par....and I have a flight to catch in the morning. I am wondering to myself, how bad is that going to hurt? Ugh.......I would give you my left toe to breathe out of my right nostril. Really I would. You wouldn't want my toe though, nor could you grant me clear sinuses, so this is a pointless and rather disgusting paragraph. In fact you are now wondering to yourself if I have lost it. Maybe you think my fever got to high or I took the wrong meds........

Anyway, I have some quick things to share and a promise to catch up with your blogs next week. On St. Patrick's Day this week, I woke to find this:

This got me to thinking about leprechauns. My friend Wendy knows a leprechaun named Lucky that manages to sneak into her house every year on St. Patrick's Day and causes some mischief. You know, turn furniture up side down, hang underwear from ceiling fans, leaves green "L's" on her kids foreheads, leaves green pee on the toilet seat; I know I must be forgetting a few things, but you get the point right? Well, each of my children has a certain amount of Irish in them. In fact I am the lone soul without any Irish heritage in the house. Honestly, I look at these photos and I see leprechauns. Yes, they are in their night clothes, if that is what you are asking. It was only 11:00 AM and a lovely 60 F. Some were serving snow as lunch, some were trying to kill "mosquitoes" with a snow shovel and others just in it for the adventure.

Do you have leprechauns? Or is this an isolated case?

Stuck in the Mud....

2009-03-17T13:29:00.004-06:00

So that pretty much describes how I feel. Yesterday, I thought I might be having a mid-life crisis, but by noon, I knew it was just Strep. As soon as those antibiotics kick in, I have some funny stuff for you. But today, I'm just going to lay here and pretend the world stopped because I did.

What's a Girl To Wear?

2009-03-13T23:03:00.006-06:00

This morning I sent the Little Jamaican in to get herself dressed. This can be quite confusing when you are four years old. Then you add that it has warmed up just enough that all the Sea Monkeys think that Spring has sprung.This causes some serious wardrobe confusion. It is a bit chilly, a bit warm and plenty of mud to tromp through.She had just gotten dressed and I had not done her hair yet.......and she had developed a case of the sillies.I have no idea why, but when she does, it always ends up with a shot of her back side.
I hope you have a wonderfully warm weekend.

Things heard around here today.....

2009-03-12T19:38:00.005-06:00

I was calling the clinic today to dispute what was mine and what was my insurance's responsibility when I had to step into my pantry so the poor woman on the other end of the line could hear me. The Sea Monkeys were being extra loud and there was no quieting them. As I stepped into the pantry, I started to tell the woman that I felt like "Old Mother Hubbard" when I realized in my tired and noise induced stupor, I had confused my nursery rhymes. I had to correct myself and tell her I meant thatI felt like the "Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe."

The First One was in the shower when I heard her ask me to come help her. When I got there she asked me, "Will you move the shower runner?" It took me a minute, but I figured out she wanted the shower head adjusted.

The Wild Child talking to her dad on the phone asks if she can wear his shirt to bed because he is out of town. That is one of the Sea Monkeys' very favorite things to do when their dad is away on travel.

When offered chocolate milk today, My Son tells me, "I don't eat this."

I would quote the Little Jamaican today, but it's been nothing but tired sass that doesn't make me smile or entertain me in the slightest.

Counting the seconds till the Rocket Scientist is home. It's just not as much fun without him.

(Sorry about the sap. It happens when I'm tired.)

Questions Answered and an Interview....

2009-03-11T10:00:00.001-06:00

First to clear up who "TROY" is: He is the main male character in Disney's High School Musical. Troy's real life name is Zac Efron. He is cute, so I can see why the Wild Child has a thing for him.

Last week, one of my new bloggy friends was kind enough to interview me. She is the Antiques Diva and she is darling. See........

I have been curious about antiques for a long time, but know nothing and I mean nothing about them. I have learned more about antiques and foreign places in the past month than I have managed to gather in the past, um, 29 years of my life. Thank you, my new friend. You are both entertaining and educational.

Interview Follows:

Antiques Diva: If you could LIVE any place in the world where would it be and why?

I would love to live everywhere. Trying to pick one place is like trying to pick your favorite piece of chocolate. Paris, Prague, Oslo, Copenhagen, Alabama, Idaho, Washington DC, New York City, Iceland, New Zealand, South Africa, Puerto Rico, Lake Tahoe, you get the point, right?

Antiques Diva: Describe your perfect day

This makes me think of the movie Miss Congeniality. You know when Stan, the pagent host asks Cheryl Frazier aka: Miss Rhode Island, "Describe your perfect date." To which she replies, "That's a tough one. I'd have to say April 25th, because it's not too hot and not too cold. All you need is a light jacket."

My perfect day would constitute having a house keeper and French pastry chef on staff. That would be followed up by hiring a personal trainer so I could eat the pastry without guilt. A perfect day would also include time sleeping in the sun, playing with my kids and quiet dinner out, alone with the Rocket Scientist.

Antiques Diva: If you could only live with one accessory for the rest of your life, which would it be and why? Only one item!

I am a little embarrassed about how sappy this answer is going to sound, but it is the truth. It would be my wedding ring. We were married 14 years before the Rocket Scientist bought me a ring. In his defense, he had tried to buy one before, but I insisted I wanted a home more than a ring. (We were getting ready to move at the time.) When we were first married we were broke, so he wore his dad's old wedding band and I wore my mom's old wedding band. Anyway, this particular accessory is a reminder that I am the luckiest, most blessed woman on the planet.

Antiques Diva: Why do you blog and which blog/s inspire you most?

I blog for many reasons, but the biggest reason I blog is to take the time to find the joy and humor in my life. Somehow when I start to type, I find the humor in the feathers knee deep all over the bedroom floor or the strength to face neighbors again after this. Another reason is the friends I have made and the ease in keeping in touch. It sort of makes the miles and time disappear.

There are many blogs that inspire me. I love having a glimpse into other people's heads and worlds. It makes me feel normal and unique all at the same time. It is safe to say that if I read your blog, you inspire me. There are many other blogs I do not have listed down the side that inspire me as well. I am thankful for the opportunity you have given me to be a part of your life by putting your thoughts out there to be shared.

Antiques Diva: If you had to choose a flavor of ice cream that most fits your personality, what kind do you think you would you be?

This one is easy, Neapolitan. I am a little bit of everything. Meaning just that. I'm a little bit red neck, a little bit class, a little bit of something else I can't quite put my finger on. I guess I could be Spumoni just as easily.

There are a few of you out there I would love to interview, but I will let you volunteer. So here are the rules:

1. Leave me a comment on the “Interview Me” blog. (Meaning this one.)

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. Be sure you link back to the original post.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Things prayed for...

2009-03-04T20:32:00.004-07:00

You see the socks the Wild Child is wearing? She got those for her birthday. Did I mention she LOVES Troy? Yes, she has told me this herself and then asked me not to tell her dad. I didn't have to, her sister told her dad right in front of her.

So she decides to wear the new socks to bed. Doesn't she look cute in her new PJ's and "Troy" socks?

I am listening to the 1st One say her prayers when I hear her say, "And please bless that (insert Wild Child's name here) won't wake up in the middle of the night and start kissing her socks." Oh how I love little girl crushes. They are just so cute. Now, if I can just keep them having crushes on fictitious characters, I will be in business.

What is she really saying?

2009-03-03T16:35:00.002-07:00

This morning as we are driving down the road, the Wild Child says to me, "Mom, When you and Dad die, (the there is a long pause) I want the house and..................... Squig (the cat) and .............Penny (the dog) and........................ Bow-Legged-Lou (deceased cat) and Sabrina (deceased dog.)

What's a mom to say about all of that? I don't even know where to start. Um, the house, ya, well I think that is uh, you know I need to put together a will or a trust or something.

She made it to 6

2009-03-01T21:11:00.008-07:00

I remember so well everything leading up to the Wild Child's birth. I remember the move right before she was born from Utah to Kansas. I remember the morning she was born. The way her soft little skin felt against my cheek. I remember the brave face her birth mom put on, but how I could feel her heart break.

From the first moment I held the baby Wild Child, I knew I would be more than her mom. I knew that as she grew we would also be good friends. Now that she has just turned six, I am wondering how she survived that long. For example: She was behind this incident and this one and this one. Then there is her love of "free gum." You know, it's free because somebody else has already discarded it and put it under the table or dropped it on the side walk. Yummy-huh? Well, that is nothing when you consider that she has sampled toilet water at Shopko. Honestly, this kid could survive a biological attack. Her immune system is well practiced.

So here are some pictures of her over the past six years that make my heart ache to have a few of those moments back and a few that make me realize there is still much fun to be had ahead.

Happy Birthday, Wild Child! I love you more than you will know until you have children of your own. Thank you for making my life fun and interesting. Most of all thank you for letting me be your mom!

Bill Cosby on the brain....

2009-02-27T22:24:00.004-07:00

Today, I spent four hours in a dentist chair. It was delightful. Really.....You know that my dentists has massage chairs to sit in while they work in your mouth? Yes, it wasn't so bad.

So this keeps going through my mind while I am there.

The Wild Child had a birthday this week. So I am planning this weekend to do her birthday post. Oh the blogging fodder that comes on birthdays.

I survived.......sort of....

2009-02-25T11:00:00.005-07:00

That post-op appointment I was so dreading, is finally over. You know the one. I arrive on time and so of course, this means that the doctor is running behind. I am almost having a panic attack because I know I have to meet with this doctor to go over lab results and what the next steps are for the insanity that I have decided to undertake. Minutes tick by and I have to remind myself to breathe. Oh the stress. Finally, his cute little nurse comes to get me. For once I don't mind stepping on the scale. It is at least something to take my mind off of what can only be the second most embarrassing moments of my life. We get back to the exam room, she takes my vitals and asks why I am so nervous. I look her in the eye and ask, "Did you hear what I called Him?" She looks confused for a minute and then starts to laugh.

"So you are the one who gave him that name." She's still laughing.

After about half a second the doctor walks in. I can't even bring myself to look up. Then he says something and I am required to make eye contact or be rude. The man is chuckling. He says to me, "You know, I have a funny job. Just the nature of what I do can be funny. But that is the funniest thing I have ever heard."

Turns out the hospital staff now call him VW. He thinks the new name has elevated him to a new level of respect. He's writing a book and using the name. "The Va..na Whisperer, Tales of a Utah Gynecologist." When you see it hit the book stands, you will know who he is.

So, ya, all that and I have decided that I may try some infertility treatments to continue the torture. Somebody, please tell me......what am I thinking?

Birthday wishes!

2009-02-24T15:48:00.003-07:00

Today is one of my favorite days of the year. Really. Today is the day my sister-in-law, who might as well be just my sister, other than my brother married her and that would be gross, joined this world. So HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NICOLE!!!! You know I love you, like you are my sister.

Nicole is the person who introduced me to blogs and what they are all about. I can never thank her enough for that. Nicole has a very funny, off beat, sense of humor that I have come to need a weekly dose of. She has three beautiful, funny rugrats, that keep her busy. If you have a minute, please stop in a tell her Happy Birthday.

Not addicted!

2009-02-23T10:17:00.005-07:00

My neighbor across the street, told me this tale of her 2 year old son. This son we will call Ryan to protect his innocence.

You see Ryan woke yesterday morning requesting chocolate with a certain amount of persistence. There was a bit of a tantrum involved. When it was explained that there was no chocolate around to be had, my two year old friend insisted there was some in his pocket. When this failed to produce the desired out come, he thought maybe there was some in someone else's pocket. (I want pockets like that. Chocolate in them whenever the whim hits.)

After some time, Ryan's dad was able to calm him down. His Dad had him seated to eat some cold cereal when one of his parents mentioned, "You have a problem buddy. You are addicted."

Sweet Ryan's response, "I'M NOT ADDICTED!" and then followed by a whispered, "I'm not addicted."

Ryan, my little buddy, I'm not addicted either, but if you need a fix, I live across the street. I can hook you up.

Did I mention it snowed this week?

2009-02-19T20:16:00.001-07:00

Do You List This Skill on a Resume?

2009-02-18T10:26:00.006-07:00

I was stumbling around blog land when I found this today:

I am just not sure what to say....... Well other than I just can not stop watching it. The first time I laughed. The second time I smiled. The third, I feel a little disturbed. Fourth, I wonder why I keep watching it. Fifth time I think I will put it on my blog so I can watch it and find it anytime I want. Someone, please, make me look away.

Keys, where art thou?

2009-02-17T22:00:00.000-07:00

You ever have one of "those" days? Well I have had the scatter-brained-half-sister of "one of those days."

You see, a week ago yesterday my keys went missing. Of course, the Rocket Scientist has a back up pair, but that can be problematic too. For instance like today, when the weather is snowing in buckets and he car pooled out to his job in the middle of nowhere with the spare set. Yep, that is a problem. Since my kids go to a charter school, and I have so many, car pooling isn't an option. This means that all four Sea Monkeys are here all day long. I had the privilege of calling the school and explaining why my children wouldn't be there. I am certain this will win me the "Mother of the Year" award.

Now, in regards to these missing keys: My friend Wendy offered to send over a metal detector to see if we could locate this jangling icon of freedom. I have contemplated taking her up on it. We do have a place to hang our keys when you walk in. I almost always hang mine there. This is a great plan for putting things in the same place all the time. Well, that is until My Son and the Wild Child grew tall enough to reach the keys. I have found keys in all sorts of places. The bathroom drawer, in the ignition of my van (fortunately that was the house key), hiding in the living room under some pillows with half of my missing chewing gum, or the time I found them in someone's underwear drawer. This, by all means, is not an all inclusive list, just some of the most recent. Truth be told, it could be all me. I may have been so distracted with all that was going on that day, I may have misplaced them all by myself this time. Anyway, wish me luck.......I am going to need it today.

Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyssss, where are you? Still looking.

What are you afraid to eat?

2009-02-16T19:38:00.006-07:00

Seems that My Son is the one giving me the blogging material this week. He is a funny, quirky kid. He has some sensory issues that makes his quirks and sense of humor a little more humorous to the rest of us. For instance, he learned a long time ago that there are textures he is not fond of. If he doesn't want to eat it, he will gag himself and refund. It took me years to figure out that he could indeed eat yogurt and mashed potatoes. I clued in one day when he was eating frosting the exact same texture as the type of yogurt I was trying to get him to eat. It was amazing....no gagging or refunding. So now when he tries this, to get out of eating something healthy, I remind him that I am on to him, and he better not or I will give him a second helping.

On the topic of food. He decides if he is going to like something by licking it. Kind of gross, I know. However, this system seems to work for him. I have had to make a point of, "If you licked it, it's yours and you better take a couple of bites."

So when the following commercial came on Saturday morning and My Son ran upstairs yelling "no" and covering his ears, I had to chuckle. Now you all need to understand, this kid would watch Power Rangers, Kung Fu Panda, and Shrek all day, if I let him. He loves the Spy Kids movies. He is not afraid of a bit of action on the TV.

So I had to ask him, "You don't like the commercial or the cereal?"

His emphatic reply was, "I don't eat this. Scare me."

I really wonder what is going through his head when he watches this commercial.

You all want to know the best part? There is a box of this in my pantry. Shhhhhhh, don't tell My Son.

Genuine Care

2009-02-15T17:11:00.002-07:00

Is this the most interesting picture you have ever seen, or what? Turns our perspective is everything.

As many of you know, my grandmother passed away a few weeks ago. At her services there were these little packages lining the pews. As we entered the chapel, My Son sees these and starts to collect them. He is behind me, so I do not realize this until I turn around to sit down. When I go to ask him why he has collected all the tissue off of the benches, he proudly announces, "Popcorn, Mom, Popcorn." Popcorn, now that would have been "Genuine Care" to My Son.

I let him keep one and make him pass the rest back down aisle where he has collected them. Being that he is a little boy and all, makes all this fuss and crying over "Grandma with the White Hair," while he is sure that she is just sleeping, starts to look for further ways to entertain himself. "So, if this package is not microwave popcorn and is truly tissue like my mom says," I see cross his face. I am beginning to worry what his next move is. I am very touched by my cousin's sweet sentiments in regards to my grandmother when I realize that My Son is now systematically stuffing every tissue in his little package in his nose. I guess the tissue is "Genuine Care" for everyone after all.

When in Rome....don't eat Mexican Food

2009-02-12T07:59:00.005-07:00

You remember how my sister, Kim, and I got to go to Huntsville, Alabama, for five glorious days of very little responsibility and slightly warmer weather? I tell you, that needs to be an annual trip.

Anyway, the first night we are there, we decide to go to a Mexican food establishment that everyone there loves. In retrospect, I should have never assumed that Alabama would be known for this kind of food. Especially since I have lived in both Arizona and California. The atmosphere in this place is really cool. It feels like a border town cantina. The place is packed and it doesn't smell bad either. The Rocket Scientist has eaten here a few times as well, when has been on travel down there. He has always contended that it is just not that good. But while in Rome....., right?

Cheese enchiladas sound fabulous. I'm thinking, you can't mess these up. It's cheese, corn tortillas and enchilada sauce. Fairly safe dish. My enchiladas come and I am starving. They look kind of funny to me. I take a bite and then a few more bites. They are not overly offensive, maybe because I was so hungry. BUT....Seriously, I could have made my enchiladas at the 7-eleven if I had brought my own tortillas. You know the nacho, processed, liquid cheese on the inside, with more of it on the outside, with a side of canned re-fried beans and a Rice-a-Roni version of Mexican rice. I'm not exaggerating. After I have sampled it all, I really start to look around. I notice they actually use the boxes and cans of these products in their decorating.

So my advice is this....When in Rome, I mean Alabama, eat the BBQ! Big Bob Gibson's in Decatur, rocked. In fact, as I type this, this morning I am actually craving their coleslaw, ribs and lemon pie.

This is not a paid advertisement. Just the rambling of a half medicated, hungry woman.

Blogging, Under the Influence.....

2009-02-10T21:10:00.005-07:00

I had surgery and as I was getting my discharge orders today they told me not to drive, make big decisions or operate heavy machinery. They said nothing about blogging, but maybe they should have.

You see, the procedure I had done today is one that is not usually discussed in mixed company, but somethings you just need to purge and get it out of your system and blame it on the drugs. So I have had some female problems for about a year and it was time to "fix" the problem. It required some "taking-a-look" and "cleaning up" so to say.

I was supposed to do this at the end of month, but my body insisted that I do it right away or risk becoming anemic at a rapid pace. So yesterday after a few calls, my really cool Doctor hooked me up today.

Now, yesterday when I went in for my pre-op appointment my doctor had lost his voice. Laryngitis if you will. Listening to him whisper to everyone was cracking me up. Not that losing your voice is funny, but the thoughts associated with that in my head were. So when I meet with the doc before surgery today, his voice is slightly worse than the day before. Thus, giving my brain more comedy, though not really appropriate comedy. I was all good about keeping it to myself until the anesthesiologist gave me some really good stuff in my IV. (Seriously, I get how people could get addicted to some things. Oh the relief of the worry.) Anyway, so after the good stuff, I couldn't keep it to myself. So you all have heard of the Horse Whisperer and the Dog Whisperer right? You know where this is going right. Yes, I did...... I called him the "Va..na Whisperer". Apparently, I was telling everyone and anyone. And anyone I didn't tell, the other surgical staff did.

So, yes, this gets back to said really cool Doctor. When he meets with the Rocket Scientist while I am in recovery, he whispers, "Did you know she is calling me the Va..na Whisperer?" Of course he is laughing. The RS really laughs and says that he does know that. The doc then asks if that means he can make non-compliant va..na's compliant. Ya.....and I get to look this guy in the eye in two weeks for my post-op. Do you think it's too late to suck all of that back in my head?

You may have already seen this.

2009-02-04T14:30:00.003-07:00

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook. It was such a happy story, I had to post it here.

Happy Weekend!

Conspiracy Theory? or Not?

2009-02-04T11:56:00.003-07:00

Do you remeber the movie the Pelican Brief? I loved that movie. And, I can't help myself, I love a good conspiracy theory. Ya, I don't know what that is about, but there are others of you out there that like 'em too. You know who you are. So when my brother and his wife suggested we read a few books, it got me thinking. Something that at the times I truly neglect to do. (think about money and how it works)
As I read some of these books I began to look at money differently. Enough so, that I quit freaking out about money in general and read everything I could get my hands on the topic for about six months.
Then a few weeks ago, my brother sent me this link. Which really got me thinking. So I started surfing the web and found these:

and this:

So tell me, what do you think? Is it a conspiracy theory of fact? If it's fact, we can't live like that. Can we? I thought slavery in the the United States was abolished in 1865.?

Humor me please......I would love to hear what you think on this topic. If you don't want to share your perspective on this issue, I undrestand. Maybe then you could tell me what your favorite conspiracy theory of all time is. You know you want to. Tell me, already.

Collections.......

2009-02-03T11:25:00.001-07:00

I actually wrote this last night. I am trying to pace myself. :)

Each day comes with it's own challenges and it's own humor. A lot of the times, the humor comes out of the challenges. In fact, I have noticed I have a much better sense of humor when I am being challenged, so to say. Now I tell you this knowing that this story may be TMI for some of you. For that I am sorry. If you are concerned, you should quit reading now.

Today the Rocket Scientist and the Little Jamaican went to see the doctor. Now the Rocket Scientist has an acute case of gout making him very miserable and the Little Jamaican has a very "messy" sinus infection. I am not Wonder Woman, but it would be helpful. Since I am just a regular chick, I drop the RS and the Little Jamaican off at the doctor so I can run the Wild Child to school and pick up some new shoes for the Little Jamaican. (See Something in the Air) I watch my sweet RS hobble up the walk on crutches helping the Little Jamaican get in the door. I feel a twinge of guilt that I can not be several places at once.

I then feed the Wild Child lunch, drop her off at school, take My Son to the store to buy some replacement clothes and shoes. Fortunately, the doctor's office is not horrendously busy and I get a call from the RS's mobile phone. It's the Little Jamaican.

She tells me in her little stuffy nose voice, "Momb day took daddy's butt out."

I start snickering, "What was that Sweetie? I'm not sure what you are saying."

"Mom, day took daddy's blutt oup," she repeats.

After talking to the RS I found out he had blood drawn for labs and they were almost ready to be picked up. As I get to the doctor's, the Rocket Scientist asks if I will come in and help him bring a few things out. He had prescriptions, the Little Jamaican and a large "jug." That is a bit to handle when not feeling well and more to handle when you are "crunches" as the Sea Monkeys call them. Upon walking into the office the Little Jamaican runs toward me with the "jug." "Momb dis is for collwections."

"Really Sweetie, collections. Hmmmm. What do you suppose Daddy is suppose to collect in there?"

"I fink fings wike sea shells and bwirds," was her innocent reply.

Poor Rocket Scientist.....sounds like there is a days worth of labs he still has to supply.

Something in the air....

2009-02-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

Did you all read this post? You know, I was reading what Jen had to say today about her son and a pair of scissors he was returning to her, when I realized it was time to get some clothes for two of my kids in the shower. As I walked into one of the bedrooms, the Wild Child jumps out of the closet. looking very guilty, with a pair of scissors that had been on my dresser less than an hour before. When I had first walked into the room I noticed a ribbon had been cut into confetti. I'm thinking, great another mess to clean-up. That was until I looked in the closet. The little...darling apparently was feeling...creative? Not really sure what triggered this need to be destructive, but she cut up several of My Son's clothes and the Little Jamaican's shoes. My Son's shirts were randomly freed of a left sleeve or a collar or other random nicks and cuts. The Little Jamaican's shoes were disemboweled. Really, that is the only way I can think to describe it. Needless to say, there have been some pretty stiff consequences. Oh, I almost forgot, she also cut her own hair. It's lovely. (not!)

So I say to parents everywhere: There is something in the air. Hide your scissors or forever grieve the losses.

Honest Scrap

2009-02-01T09:11:00.000-07:00

The Good Flea has sent me an award with some conditions so to say. So here is the award:

Now, if I want to keep this award I have give 10 honest "juicy" things about me. This should be interesting since "juicy" is almost foreign to me. OK, here we go....

1. As a toddler I had amazing little red rain boots. Loved to wear them and apparently I did not have adequate time to test them. My mom found me wearing them, wading in the toilet.

2. When I was a little girl, I noticed that Santa Claus seemed to forget to fill my parents stockings. Somewhere inside it made me feel really sad for my parents, so I started saving my trick-or-treat candy. I would sneak out of my bed in the middle of the night Christmas Eve to put my stale Halloween candy in their stockings.

3. My first kiss was in the 7th grade. His name was Kurtis and I thought I would never meet another boy as cute as him. Funny part is, I don't actually remember the kissing part. I think I may have blacked out with all that 7th grade excitement.

4. I rarely get to see TV, but the one show I love to watch every week is Extreme Makeover Home Edition

5. I was only ever stood up by one guy when I was dating. I was dumb enough to let him do it multiple times.

6. Many of you know that my grandma past away recently. (My Dad's Mom.) What you don't know is (my Mom's Mom) my other grandma passed away when I was eight. It was very traumatic to me. So much so, that in my over active little girl imagination, I thought my parents were storing my grandma's body in the top of the pantry. I know, I need therapy, but wait, the story gets better. So a week or so after my grandmothers funeral, my mom is cooking liver and onions. You know where this is going right? I still can't and won't try liver and onions, because as a demented little girl I thought my mom was trying to feed the family my grandmothers liver. (It didn't help that we had been learning about the Donner Party at school.)

7. OK, either I am getting tired, or I am running out of stuff to tell you. Oh, I know, I have never used the "F" bomb while conscious, but according to the Rocket Scientist, I once used it in my sleep to tell him to get his hands off of me. (It wasn't like that....I was having a nightmare in which he was torquing my shorts to the point I was hitting him in my dream. He tried to wake me and tell me I was having a nightmare.)

8. I love IKEA furniture in theory, not as fond of it in use. Still if your children are going to ruin your furniture anyway, I just don't see how you can go wrong here. Besides that, my favorite pots and pans are from here.

9. I don't like frosting. Of course, unless, it is coconut pecan frosting. That is an entirely different story. That frosting on top of an oatmeal cake is my favorite. YUMMM!

10. I cry every time I walk through the front gates of Disneyland. I don't really know why, I just start feeling all emotional and can't help myself.

Now I get to pick the next victims to spill the "juicy" details of their life. Let me think....Allrighty then, Krista you have spilled enough in the past year, you have already earned this award. Really, go read her blog, you will know what I mean. She puts it all out there. So........ Jen who is Buried With Children, my sister who has a White Knuckle Grip, Carrie who likes her Life in the Slow Lane, Tori at The McKee's, Nicole who's children believe in Naptime Optional, and Stacy at Me and the Boys.

Can hardly wait to read what you all have to spill. Thanks for tagging me Flea.

Back seat drivers

2009-01-31T18:00:00.000-07:00

Why is it that a four year old thinks she has the ability to drive better than her mother. Really, I get yelled at to go when the light is red, told I am going the wrong way and to go faster because,"it is taking for a long time." I wonder how long after they have driver's licenses before I can return the favor?

Life comes at you fast.

2009-01-29T20:34:00.007-07:00

I need to start this off by saying, "I LOVE HUNTSVILLE, ALABAMA!!!!" Really, I do. Even when it is cold in the middle of winter. My trip was a much appreciated break from the usual mommy stuff that comes with being the mom. I must say being married to the Rocket Scientist has endless perks for me. Not many can boast about being sent on a "momcation" by their spouse and then have him brag about how much fun he had. Yes, he was really bragging about how much fun it was.

While I was there, one of the things I feared, did happen. My sweet 95 year-old grandmother passed away. She passed away not once but twice while we were away. I am not sure if that made it easier dealing with her passing or if just meant getting sad news twice. She has had a pace maker for years. So, as I understand it, she passed away, hospice notified the appropriate people, and sometime later the postmortem nurse shows up to do her thing and finds my grandmother breathing. You know, that pace maker noticed her heart was not beating and started to do it's job. So a day later, she made peace with her pace maker and passed away for good. Sorry, this is little morbid. I have two ways of dealing with death. They are shutting down and being completely dysfunctional or humor. This time around, there is a bit of both. Her obituary can be found at this link. http://www.larkinmortuary.com/opc_sop_o.php?obituary_idx=2856&search=&sort=death_date%20DESC&PHPSESSID=d0b53e7e20f3a8999960ff191f8d8355

If you have ever lost a loved one who had to struggle for quality of life, no matter how short the time, you know what a relief their passing can be. Somehow though, that relief never dulls the sting of the loss. My grandmother was a character. I love her dearly. I didn't live near her until I was a teenager. I can honestly say that she helped smooth out a lot of my teen years. She took me to my first opera and my first ballet. She would negotiate with my dad (her son) on my behalf. I remember one time in particular when my father didn't want to let me go to a church dance. After many tears, my grandma said she would handle it. Turned out I got to go! A day or two later, I asked her how she did that. She smiled and said, "I just asked him how he felt when I didn't let him go to church dances?" She was the best grandma for me as a teenager. She had such a profound influence on my life that the Little Jamaican has my grandmother's name as her middle name. I will miss her dearly.

While I was away on my trip, we found out the Rocket Scientist's company no longer needs us to relocate. What a relief that is. As much as I love Huntsville, I really do not want to move right now.

One last thing........Krista, thank you for the birthday wishes. You are way too good to me. That is quite a bit to live up to. So, I will try not to let it stress me out. :)

Boneless White Meat......

2009-01-19T21:03:00.007-07:00

Oh the things I hear as a mother...........Do you have a meat preference? There might be a meat preference in my house. Let me explain.

The other day I hear from the back seat, "What is skin made of?" Well before the Rocket Scientist or I have a chance to respond we hear the Wild Child tell her sister, "Boneless white meat." Trying to stifle my laughter I suddenly find myself wondering if this is true no matter the shade of your skin. So, when I could control myself, I had to ask. I was assured by the Wild Child that all skin is "boneless white meat." So there you have it. If you were ever wondering. While I am on the topic of "boneless white meat" you should pop over and say "hi" to my friend Krista before she has surgery.

On a new subject, I am truly struggling to keep up on my blog right now. Life keeps throwing twist and turns my direction. Please, let me be clear. I love the twists and turns. It is what makes life fun. However, said ride, is sucking up an awful lot of time and energy.

We have been offered an opportunity to make a move with my husbands employment. I love living in new places. I love learning about the local culture, meeting new people, getting to know the geography. I really love looking at the architecture and how different it is in different parts of our nation. I detest the moving part. I don't like looking for a new school for my kids. I hate the sleep deprivation that is always involved in a move. I hate leaving my friends behind. I am a decent long distance friend, but it's not the same as being able to call up a friend and say, "Hey, let's go get chocolate faced tonight." or the "We have a sitter, let's do dinner tonight." There is so much comfort in established relationships. For me, it provides a sense of belonging, to have a few friends close by to laugh and cry with. Friends to escape with, friends who make you feel like you can take on the world. I am also not fond of the unpacking part. If you need proof, come look at my basement. We have been here almost two years and there are still boxes of which I know the content of, that I have not unpacked. I just haven't felt like it. (This can be problematic, since there are things I need in those boxes from time to time, so I will pull an item or two out and leave the rest of box disheveled. This makes my basement look a bit like a bomb went off.) We have yet to make a decision, but I imagine we will have to make it soon.

If this were not enough to think about, I have a grandmother, my father's mother, and grandfather, my mother's father that seem to be under the impression that their bodies are wearing out. I have wonderful grandparents. The thought of it being their "time" is too much for me right now. (Trust me, I get it, I don't really have a say in the matter.) They are both in their 90's so I get that it is unreasonable for me to think they will be around for another 25 years. Still, I wish that the quality of their lives where better and that they could be around for another 25 years. And as I sit here and type this, I feel very selfish for letting get to me like this. You know that my sweet Rocket Scientist had lost both of his parents by the time he was thirty.

Did I mention that I am married to the best guy ever? I may have eluded to that a time or two. For my birthday this month, he is sending my sister and I out of town for 5 whole days. That is 5 whole days of no kids, no laundry, no dishes and hopefully good sleep. So I am frantically working on getting myself ready for a trip to Alabama on Thursday. Will you all say a prayer that my grandparents hang in there till I get back? Thank you.

So back to my first topic.......boneless white meat. Anybody have a simple, accurate answer that I can give my kids on what skin is made of? Seriously......where does the Wild Child come up with these things?

I'm Bugged!

2009-01-13T21:21:00.005-07:00

Do you all remember this? Well, I did finally win that battle. That's great, right? Well, you all are aware, I am sure, that it is January in the northern hemisphere. So one might think logically, that perhaps, I might run across a few spiders, but that there should not be many bugs. I am not a fan of the eight-legged land dwellers, but I can deal with a few here and there. You also could say I am not even bothered by a few six-leggeds here or there either. That all being said, I have killed a variety of bugs this week in my house. Bugs that should not be alive in January in northern Utah. The one that has me the most perplexed, though, is this.

If you can't tell from my bad photography, it is a ladybug. If it was the first ladybug it would not be so surprising based on the variety of bugs I have seen this week. This is one of many I have seen in the past three months. It's almost like the insects and the arachnids had a meeting and said, "Yea, we heard the ladybugs say it was a good place to winter, but, if you try it, you are on you own." Hands down, I have seen more ladybugs than anything else.

If it's a "good" bug can it still be called an infestation?

Ever Feel Like This?

2009-01-11T19:10:00.003-07:00

Lately it seems that choices have been flying at me, rapid fire, so to say. I wonder if I have this same expression and head tilt.

Actually, have been thinking about choices and how they affect my life. Some choices are a given that you have to make the right one or it's not going to be pretty. Then there are the choices that just don't matter. It's neither of those choices that are on my mind right now. It's most of those choices in the middle causing me some distress. They are the choices that have a profound effect on your life, but are not life threatening. The choices that you make and second guess yourself for years. As I have been thinking about these type of choices, I have started to notice a common theme in what I call the good choices. It's not how easy it has been to live with my choice, it's how my attitude has been about my choice. It's the way I chose to look at the choice I made. If I chose to look for the good or the bad in my choice. Not that I am not suggesting that there are not lessons to learn from every painful situation, but that there is always good and I'm much happier when I look for it.

So.......when faced with a choice that challenges you, how do you make your decision? Please share with me, since I have several big choices to make and could use some help.

Road Kill

2009-01-08T17:28:00.004-07:00

Are you all waiting for me to have an original thought? Me too! It seems lately that so much information is coming in that there is no time for me to think. Kind of like getting ran over on the information highway. That said, I had the lovely opportunity of reiterating to the 1st One of my thoughts on pierced ears.

You see, my mom had never had ears pierced, then about five years ago, she decided that she would pierce her ears so that she could wear her earrings. It was very short lived. She just couldn't leave them open. The thought of putting something through her ears really just grossed her out. So my stance on piercing ears is a lot different than most moms.

I decided that it was my child's choice, since it is my child's body. Knowing that this would not be a good choice for a three year old to make, I decided that I needed to pick an age that would be both appropriate and an age where they would be responsible for caring for them themselves. My religion refers to age eight as the age of accountability. Sounded good to me. We have such few rules like this that you would think that this would not be a huge deal. That......is what I get for thinking. My seven and a half year old is freaking out that she has to wait a whole 5 months to have her ears pierced. I must be the meanest mom out there.

Looking for an adrenalin rush?

2009-01-07T20:50:00.004-07:00

The Rocket Scientist's cousin sent me a link to this today. It was so crazy to me, I had to share with you. Part me says, "I would love to try it." The rational part of me says, "Ummmm, ya, I don't think so." Either way, worth the few minutes to watch.

wingsuit base jumping from Ali on Vimeo.

Christmas Past

2009-01-02T12:46:00.010-07:00

I love the holidays!!! I know you can't tell from your end of blog-land that there is no sarcasm in that statement. All that being said, I am thrilled when they have passed. I am exhausted!!! I love seeing family and friends, the Christmas lights, the decorations. I love the warmth I feel through the season. Even though it is a let down when it's over, it is also a relief.

I am not sure that I have the words to articulate what a wonderful season of warmth, hope and happiness it has been. So I will try and show you with some photos. Some of the photos are courtesy of the Rocket Scientist's SIL.

Lesson learned: Angels are important.

2008-12-17T18:20:00.007-07:00

Today has been a day of lessons learned.

I have potty trained three children in this home. My carpets could tell a tale that many would not care to smell. So with this in mind, I had my carpets cleaned before our holiday guests arrive. Yesterday was the day I had the carpets cleaned. I had them steam cleaned. I am not sure I am a fan of that process, since the carpet was still wet last night when we went to bed. The 1st One helped me move all of the furniture off the carpet in the family room yesterday morning. This morning, before the 1st One went to school, she offered to help me put the furniture back. I gladly excepted the help. The sofa table was the trickiest. I had Christmas decor on it I didn't want to take off just to move the table a few feet. She grabbed one end and I grabbed the other. We carefully started to move the table. I noticed that one of the nativity pieces was wobbling. Before I could save it, the angel took a nose dive and shattered on the hardwood. The lectures started from the younger children. "Mom, you need to be more careful. It wasn't our fault. Can we fix it?" There was no fixing this poor angel. She had taken her last flight. I swept up and we moved on with our day. It was just the angel, she couldn't be that big of a deal in the nativity set could she? She wasn't Mary or Joseph or heaven forbid the baby Jesus.

My days are filled with driving children to and fro. Today was no different. The 1st One goes to school at 8:15. The Little Jamaican goes to pre-school at 9:30. This is when I have a few hours to get stuff done and work with My Son. At 12:00 we leave to take the Wild Child to kindergarten. Immediately following dropping the Wild Child at school, I drive back to my neighborhood to pick up the Little Jamaican from my dear friend Wendy.

Let me tell you about Wendy. Wendy is the woman that when you meet her, you adore her. She is beautiful, funny, smart and incredibly compassionate. Everything I wish to be, but fall short of. Wendy picks up the Little Jamaican from preschool and keeps her until I get back.

Today when I pick up the Little Jamaican, Wendy hands me some beautifully wrapped gifts. I am a believer in waiting until Christmas to unwrap gifts. Especially when the wrappings are that beautiful. When I got home, I put the gifts on the kitchen counter and proceeded to go upstairs to make some calls and change the laundry. When I came back down stairs, I find the beautiful wrappings torn apart. My Son had decided he couldn't wait for Christmas, or his mother, to unwrap these red velvet and gold foil packages. The one was a family gift and the other one was for me. The family gift was still there on the counter, but the wrapper was all that was left of the one that was for me. I started looking throughout the house trying to find where and what the gift was. Several minutes later this is what I find:

Turns out angels are important. Though this angel is ridiculously large for this nativity set, this is where she will stay this season. Between Wendy, My Son, and a well placed gift, I am reminded how important angels are now, as they were for the birth of our Savior.

Luke 2:8-15
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace good will toward men. And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

Angels seem to be around whenever we need them. A friend, a sister, a child or the type that aren't so easily seen, have blessed my life countless times. Today a sweet anxious for Christmas child and a dear friend were the angels that reminded me that I am loved enough by my Heavenly Father that he has surrounded me with angels.

What I got for Christmas

2008-12-15T15:52:00.003-07:00

This year my mom gave me a book she put together herself, (she may have had some help from an aunt.) that is honestly one of my most cherished parts of this Christmas. This book is a three-ring binder with a scripture, carol and Christmas story for each of the first 25 days of December. Every night before my kids go to bed, we read the scripture, sing the carol and then I read them the story. I love the way this makes my house feel. There is so much love in the air you can almost see it.

Last night's was exceptional. So if you don't mind......I would love to share it with you. If you are not interested......that is OK too, but now would be the time to quit reading.

Scripture: Matthew 25:40
"Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

Carol: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light
From now on,
our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yule-tide gay,
From now on,
our trouble will be miles away.

Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.

Through the years
We all be together,
If the Fates allow
Hang a shining star
upon the highest bough.
And have yourself
A merry little Christmas now.

Now for the story...

The Sharing Session
by Marion Brenish

As a California tourist unaccustomed to single digits, the bitter cold of that December day in Washington, D.C., was dampening my holiday mood. Accounting for the windchill factor, the temperature was below zero. When I ducked into Union Station, I hoped only to get warm. What I got was a lesson in the real meaning of the season from a homeless person.

Warmth was slowly being restored to my hands and feet as I settled onto one of the public benches with a gleaming cup of coffee. Now I was ready to relax and do some serious people watching. I noticed a homeless man seated nearby and several tables of diners spilling out into the great hall from the upscale America Restaurant. Heavenly aromas from gourmet treats were tempting me to consider an early dinner. From the longing look in my neighbor's eye it was obvious the he, too, had not failed to notice the banquet taking place around us. I wondered how long it had been since he had eaten anything. Expecting he would approach me for a handout, I welcomed such a plea on his part. He never did. The more I look at this scene, the crueler his plight seemed. My head and heart were battling it out: the former telling me to mind my own business, and the latter urging me to make an immediate trip to the food court on his behalf.

While this internal debate was raging, a well-dressed young couple suddenly approached. "Excuse me, sir," began the husband. "My wife and I just finished eating and our appetite wasn't as big as we thought. We hate to waste good food. Can you help us out and put it to good use?" The kind stranger handed a large styrofoam container overflowing with goodies. "God bless you both. Merry Christmas," came the grateful reply. Feeling good about what I had seen, but dismayed by my own lack of action, I observed my neighbor's response to his sudden good fortune. First he scrutinized his new found bounty, arranging the soup crackers, inspecting the club sandwich and stirring the salad dressing. Then he slowly lifted the lid off the soup, inhaling the aroma and cupping his hands around the steaming bowl. It was obvious that he was going to prolong this the enjoyment of this miracle meal. Finally, he appeared ready for that long dreamed of first taste. Meticulously unwrapping the plastic spoon, he filled it to overflowing, lifted it towards his mouth and with suddenness that stunned me stopped dead in his tracks.

The reason for this unexpected behavior soon became clear. Entering the hall and shuffling in our direction was a new arrival. In his seventies (or so he appeared), hat less and glove less, he was clad in lightweight pants, a threadbare jacket and open shoes. His hands were raw and his face had a bluish tint. I wasn't alone in gasping aloud at the sad sight, but my neighbor was the only one doing anything about it. Quickly pulling aside his treasure, he leaped up and guided the elderly man to an adjacent seat. He took the old man's hands and rubbed them in his own. He tenderly draped the down jacket over the older man's shoulders. Finally, he spoke. "Pop, my name's Jack, and one of God's angels brought me this meal. I just finished eating, and I hate to waste good food. Can you help me out?" Placing the steaming cup of soup in the stranger's hands, he didn't wait for an answer. But he got one. "Sure, Son, but only if you go halfway with me on that sandwich. It's too much for a man my age."

It wasn't easy making my way to the food court with tears blurring my vision, but I soon returned with the largest containers of coffee and the biggest assortment of pastries possible. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but..."

My parents, like yours, taught me to share, but it wasn't until that day in Union Station that I truly learned the meaning of the word. I left the hall feeling warmer than I had ever though possible.

Sunsets....

2008-12-14T17:16:00.007-07:00

Another picture taken from my back porch. We really did do well to buy this house sight-unseen. I'm not a photographer so please excuse the quality. Still, I love the colors.This sunset happened sometime this past week. I love the sunsets this time of year. The warm and cold colors contrasting. What is your favorite part of winter?

A not so Me-me Meme.

2008-12-07T11:05:00.000-07:00

Krista my dear friend has tagged me with this meme. Here are the rules

I say some nice things about the person who tagged me and one other person. Pretty straight forward simple. Here goes:

Krista - There is much to be said about Krista. To pick just a few nice things is going to be hard. I know her well. She is like a sister to me. Krista is witty and funny. Really.....if you haven't read this or this then you really have no idea how funny she can be and even then, it is just a glimpse into her funny side. She is a loyal friend. If you are her friend, you can count her every time. She is kind....in a world where that seems to be a dying trait. Krista is my life line when the kids have pushed me over the edge. She will listen to me whine about how frustrated they are making me and sympathize with me. In her blog, she mentions we have a good cheese and wine relationship. I "whine" and she says "cheez."

Shelly - Shelly is my SIL but for all intents and purposes, when you marry the brothers we did, you become just plain sisters, fast. The thing I most admire about Shelly is her ability to let things roll of her back. She has been through some craziness this past year, with her sense of humor intact. Now to be truly fair to Shelly, I have to say that life has thrown her many challenges over the years. She always moves past them without being bitter. And I mean Always!! One other note about Shelly, if she loves you, she is a strong advocate for your happiness. She will protect you, she will fight for you, she will kick butt. Thank you, Shelly for that.

Dreaming of a WHITE Christmas!

2008-11-30T19:44:00.007-07:00

Did you wonder if you came to the wrong place? I was feeling festive.........

Anyway, on to one of the many things I have to talk about tonight. The first one being, how children will and do repeat what you say. The Rocket Scientists has this saying that goes something like this when I am asking him to help me with something that he isn't sure he wants to do. He says, "You're killin' me woman!" I usually smile and let it be. That is until the the 1st one started using that line on me when I'd ask her to pick up her shoes or clear off the table. Now you know on the inside I was busting up. That is some pretty funny stuff, but on the outside I had to tell her it wasn't OK for her to use that line with me. The RS has decided with some encouragement that maybe this is not a line he will use with me anymore either.

The next thing is my fun loving Friend has this link to a personality test. If you haven't figured it out yet.......yes......I can find endless entertainment in these type things. So if you are wondering about which "color" I am, I'm white.

"Whites are motivated by Peace. They seek independence and require kindness. They resist confrontation at all costs. To them, feeling good is more important than being good. They are typically quiet by nature, process things very deeply and objectively with great clarity. Of all the colors, whites are the best listeners. They respect people who are direct but recoil from perceived hostility or verbal battle. Whites need their "alone time" and refuse to be controlled by others. Whites want to do things their own way and in their own time. They ask little of others and resent others demanding much of them. Whites are much stronger than people think, but are not often seen for their strength because they don't easily reveal their feelings. Whites are even-tempered, diplomatic, and the voice of reason; but can also be indecisive, unexpressive, and silently stubborn. When you deal with a WHITE, be kind, accept and support their individuality, and look for non-verbal clues to understand their feelings."

I would love to know what color you are!!!

The last thing I wanted to cover in this post is my erratic posting and reading of my bloggy friends. I miss you when I don't get to read what you are doing or thinking about, etc. I want to say that it is going to get better, but chances are, it will not for a while. I have plenty I want to blog about. I am lacking time. I have this part of my brain that shifts with no explanation that sends me in a different direction than I was originally headed. This instance......as a child I was not neat or tidy. My mid-teens this shift happened and everything had to be neat and organized. Then sometime after I had been married for about 4 years, there was a shift again. Neat and organized were taking leave. Well about 2 months ago, neat and organized came back. I have almost 10 years of clutter that suddenly can no longer exist in my life. Getting rid of all this clutter is a serious time sucker. Since I will have no peace until it's done, and that is what I am motivated by according to the previously mentioned personality test, it is what is occupying most of my free time. This is not to say that I will not be around at all, just not daily. More like three to four time a week.

I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving!

Back to cleaning.......

Karen

Watching my mother fall victim to my children

2008-11-27T21:35:00.004-07:00

My sweet mother took my children yesterday and kept them over night so that I could get ready for Thanksgiving. Since we live back close to family, we usually do the get together here since we are best equipped for gatherings. Besides that, I LOVE to cook! Really!!! And the entertaining part is nice too. It makes me feel at home to have people I love in my home enjoying themselves.

Early this afternoon, my mom calls to check on the time of dinner. She was running behind. Yeah.....she had my kids, so that is to be expected. But the story behind why she was running late must be told. Now, in my experience, grandmas are suckers for grandchildren. Why that is exactly I don't have a firm grasp on yet, but I am sure there will be a day that I do. Well, my sweet mom was bringing a few homemade pies and mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving. She seemed to have a handle on that. That is until the my children, aka the grandchildren in question, asked if she would make them brownies. Now if they asked me, the answer would have been an easy "NO!" There would be plenty of good things for them to eat when they got home. Being the grandma put her at a disadvantage; You know being a sucker for her grandchildren and all. She started to tell them that she really didn't have time when the Wild Child in all her charm uses her cutest smile and voice and says, "Please, they're like a river of chocolate." Yep, she made them brownies.

Hey Mom, if you get a chance to read this before you collapse into your bed tonight......Thank you!! I could have never pulled it off without you.

Stolen Thanksgiving Meme

2008-11-26T08:23:00.005-07:00

It has occurred me over the last year that ones ability to be happy is somewhat dependant on that person's ability to be thankful for what they have. I have watched this in myself, particularly. If I have lost my happy place it is a pretty good bet that I have forgotten to count my blessings. I am working on that. There is no reason to not be grateful when I have so many blessings.

Flea has this meme on her blog. She "borrowed" it from someone else. So I thought I would join in on the fun.

Little Thanksgiving Meme

1. What are you thankful for?
Yesterday I spoke with a woman who is very dear to me. She is currently living in a homeless shelter. While speaking with her, I became aware to my core of how truly blessed I am. I am thankful for a knowledge of a Heavenly Father and that He loves me. I am thankful for good parents, for an amazing family, for children who challenge me and make me smile. I am thankful for a warm home, a husband who loves me and supports me. It occurs to me that this list could go on for some time. I think I will do that somewhere else........

2. What is your favorite thing to make?
Hmmmmmm........this is a tough one for me to answer. I love to cook/bake. If I have to pick one, I will say the stuffing/dressing. A few years ago, I found a recipe that calls for apples and chestnuts.....yum.

3. Do you have a special table cloth?
Sort of. I have table cloths for Thanksgiving and Christmas mostly, but quite often forget that I have them.

4. What is your favorite thing to eat?
Pecan Pie!!!!!!

5. What time do you eat?
This varies with the year and it's guests. We make our best effort to accommodate work schedules, nap times, distance traveled and whims.

Play along if you like.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Knees should not look like basketballs

2008-11-23T20:45:00.000-07:00

I may have mentioned before that the Rocket Scientist has an auto-immune disorder. Yeah and it's great fun to be had by all. No....not really.

The first time we became aware of it, we thought he had injured his foot. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with it, yet it was swollen and extremely painful. Now my guy's tough rarely breaks. If he is wincing in pain.......it's bad! So, back to the doctors he went for some blood work. They thought maybe it was gout. They sent him home, told him to call back in a few days for the blood work results. You know....it came back inconclusive. The doctor told him to avoid red meat and get in shape. We wanted to do what was best. So we cut out all red meat and most meat in general. Trying to be a good wife I put him a vegetarian diet. Well..........not the right answer. The swelling got so bad and so painful. Both his ankle and knee started swelling. Eventually it went away and he went back to eating red meat. There were a few recurrences over the next year. Then we moved to Kansas. Can you believe the entire time we lived there......not one bad "out break."

I could drag this out.......but you all really don't want me to do that. Turns out soy is the trigger for him. His body just can not process it. Do you have any idea how many things have soy in it. Try to eat out and not consume soy or one it's products.

Over the years I have gotten really good at avoiding soy. Sometimes we miss something and the man ends up in extreme pain. Of course then I feel terrible for missing it.

Last week the RS's knee started bugging him. It wasn't long until it was as big as a basketball. The poor guy spent the last week in bed. I have been through everything. I can't figure out where he got the soy. I'd say this is one of the worst cases he has ever had.

So I'm back to the drawing board. I wish there was just a test that would say this is the thing that causes your knee to look like a basketball, but once again, no. We get to do trial and error. My next best guess is "high fructose corn syrup." Fortunately this is a bit easier to avoid. Sorry, Babe.....no more Soft Drinks for you.

If you are easily offended.....this post is not for you.

2008-11-22T21:39:00.004-07:00

Bloggy friends......life is kicking my butt! Really!! Family, if you are about to scroll down and witness my shame as a mother.....you were warned in the title. Even the Rocket Scientist says looking over my shoulder as I am posting the following pictures that I am "crossing the line."
Really though......the pictures say it all. I can't keep a grip on life. The kids are running the house. Ya.....you see what they are using for stickers these days. Apparently it's not enough to put stickers on furniture or walls where they have been warned that they will spend the rest of their lives in time-out if I find another sticker in one of those places. Nope, they decide it's time to take it public and put it on an upstairs window you can see from the street.

I know I should have some shame, but I can't find it under the crayon colored walls, dirty bathrooms and mountain of laundry that has become my charmed life.

To fit in or not.....

2008-11-17T10:12:00.003-07:00

Oh this little clip made me laugh. It also made me think...... There has been way too much of that going on around here lately. It has occurred to me that I have no desire to be "normal", to fit in. I do however, want people to be comfortable around me. It's an interesting balance. Certainly not a balance I have perfected.

Playin' Tag

2008-11-12T05:57:00.004-07:00

Flea tagged me with this Meme of 4 things. This one is a little harder than it looks. Or maybe, I'm just over thinking it.

A) Four places I go over and over:
1. The kids school. Three times a day. I have a kindergartner and a second grader.
2. Target......I love this place. So much so, that it a prerequisite for living someplace new. If there is no Target.....I'm not going
3. The Laundry Room....whether I want to or not
4. Costco

(B) Four people who e-mail me regularly:
1. Krista
2. Carrie
3. My Aunt Jean
4. My Dad

(C) Four of my favourite places to eat:
1. Rumbi Grill, I love their Voodoo Chicken Salad......YUMMMY
2. Cafe Coronado....I have only ever been there once, it's in Phoenix and it is amazing.
3. Phuket....A Thai food restaurant in Huntsville, Alabama....truly some of the best Pad Thai ever known to man.
4. Red Beans Bayou Grill in Wichita, Kansas. The tomato bisque is worth the trip.

(D) Four places you'd rather be:
1. Huntsville, Alabama
2. Target
3. Lake Tahoe, it is so beautiful there
4. Europe, I have never been and really want to.

(E) Four TV shows I could watch over and over:
1. House Hunters International
2. Extreme Makeover House Edition
3. Everybody Loves Raymond
4. According to Jim

(F) Four people I think will respond:
1. Krista
2. Carrie
3. Missy
4. Kim.....because then she will have something to post about.

Message In a Bottle

2008-11-11T09:43:00.004-07:00

It's that time of year. The time of year that there are things that my spouse needs to know without the children over hearing me.

It use to be that we could spell things, but those darn kids keep getting smarter! I remember my parents spelling when we were little to discuss things they didn't want us to overhear at the dinner table. Of course, all that taking us to school and all, started to work against them too. My Dad has a firm grasp of the Spanish language and my mom just enough to look confused when they started trying that route.

So, last night we were trying iron out the details of Wednesday night without the kids finding out I was taking them to Disney On Ice. As we spoke in code I was reminded of being a little kid trying to figure out what it was that my parents didn't want me to know. You know....I'm not really against my kids knowing. However, I am against them asking about it every waking second until the moment arrives. Anyway, I decided that I would tell them we have plans for Wednesday night. They wanted to know exactly what it is we are doing. I said that I wouldn't tell them, but they could guess and I would give them a few hints. Typically all the questions about this would make me crazy, but the guesses are so darn entertaining.

So do you have a special language of your own? How is it working out? Does it leave you looking confused like my mom with Spanish words flying at her or me when my husband tries the "really big words" route? You wishing your kids didn't spell so well? I may be trying the message in a bottle route next.

A Married Question Meme...

2008-11-07T13:00:00.001-07:00

My friend Melissa tagged me with this meme. Since I love to talk about the Rocket Scientist, I was thrilled to play.

What is your husbands name? Rocket Scientist, well in cyberspace it is.
How long have you guys been married? 14 years
How long did you date? Too long. I felt like I had to drag him to the alter, kicking and screamin'. 1 year.
How old is he? 37
Who is taller? The Rocket Scientist
Who can sing best? The RS's Eustachian tubes collapsed years before I met him while skiing a semester he spent at BYU. So, the answer would be me. (that is really not saying much)
Who is smarter? He is a Rocket Scientist. He was a physics major. He also just thinks more than I do.
Who does laundry? I'm not sure if anybody does laundry looking at the pile.
Who pays the bills ? He makes the money, I spend it.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? I'm not sure which is the right side.
Who mows the lawn? The RS
Who cooks dinner? Both of us.
Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? Me, but it usually is me who is wrong.
Who kissed who first? He kissed me first, but if he had waited much longer....I would have kissed him.
Who wears the pants? I make the decisions and he has the veto power.

So tag you're it.

Second guessing my words

2008-11-06T09:38:00.004-07:00

You know I have started many posts in the past couple of days, only to abandon them. Some because I can't find the right words to express how I feel. Others because, I decided they have no relevance to me or most people. Then there is the one that I think I sound whiny and well, I'm not a fan of whining when it comes to me doing it. I have way too much to be thankful for.

So, this brings me to a question. Do you have posts you start and never finish? Post you finish that you never actually post? Posts that you delete? I guess that is more than one question.

Can I exaggerate like Longfellow?

2008-11-04T10:49:00.005-07:00

I feel like I'm hearing Paul Revere running through the streets yelling the "British are coming, the British are coming." Only it sounds more like, "Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming." Can you believe that we have, at least, two local radio stations that are playing Christmas music almost full time. Yes, I mean now. This has been going on since the day after Halloween, at least.

Maybe this is the cry in the streets, trying to salvage our economy. I hope they accomplish their mission, because if I hear Christmas music in September of 2009, Paul and I are going to have a talk.

Crop Circles in My Head

2008-11-02T19:55:00.002-07:00

I am feeling a bit philosophical tonight, so you all have been warned. I have always thought myself to have a clue when it comes to life. The strange thing about that is.......the older I get the more I realize........there may be no clues, for me anyway. Just when I think I have it figured out............well........the rules change? Or maybe it is that I never understood the rules to start off.

For instance, you might fall in love with someone when you are young and think that this is it. You believe you will get married, have a family and live happily ever after. Then you start to hear about the statistics of young love and its success rate. It appears that the rules are changing. Then you get your heart broken and you think your life is over and once again it feels like the rules are changing. You meet other people, you date, you eventually find someone else you fall for. Then you begin to wonder which set of rules apply to this new relationship. Is this the happily ever after? Are you still too young? Is this the heartache express?

You see, it seems like this is the pattern of life to me. That there are sets of rules that I clearly do not understand. Health......Nutrition......Right......Wrong.......Republican......Democrat......
Life......Death........Love...... it is as if their definition changes daily. Then I wonder if it is just my own evolution that brings to a higher understanding of the things in my life. Or maybe these are all just pieces of a puzzle that I need to keep turning until I have them facing the right direction so that they will fit with the right place. Either way, I have a lot to learn.

If you haven't had enough deep thought I might suggest reading this. She is a dear friend of mine that has some real insight to life.

Traditions

2008-11-01T09:42:00.007-06:00

Thank you all for you kind words and thoughts at the passing of our furry family member. Your words were so appreciated.

We all have our own sets of traditions. This is really funny to me, since Halloween is a necessary evil so to say. To say that I am not fan, is truly an understatement. It's a holiday about candy, monsters and tricks to me. None of which I believe deserve a celebration.........well maybe the candy.......but no one needs 35 pounds of candy to consume for themselves. (Yes, I do really know the real story behind Halloween.) So, the fact that our families most defined traditions are for this holiday, humors me a bit.

When the kids were really little, it was too much work and too much for them to cope with to carve 4 pumpkins. The Rocket Scientist came up with this great idea. He would hand each of them a black crayon and tell them to draw the eyes and tell another to draw the nose and so on. The RS would then carve out whatever and where ever they drew. There are years that we have some Jack-O-Lanterns with some serious personality. So this is this years. I love him. I think he is darling. The Sea Monkeys trick-or-treated in the neighborhood. I have decided that there is no easy way to take a picture of four kids at once. There is always somebody not looking, walking away or posing in a fashion that, well, scroll down, you'll see.

One from the Rocket Scientist

2008-10-29T19:53:00.009-06:00

Today has been a rough one. The Rocket Scientist in all his sweetness has written the post that I desperately needed written tonight, but could not do myself.

So, after dinner tonight I sat down at my computer. I went to flickr.com and looked at the pictures that Karen has saved on the website...one thousand eight hundred and seven (yes, really, 1,807). I looked at everyone of them. There were pictures of unfinished yards, finished yards, houses, houses that became our homes, home improvement projects, trips to home improvement stores to buy stuff to do those home improvement projects, and pictures of the Sea Monkeys in shopping carts at home improvement stores. Of course, I lingered slightly longer on those last pictures.

In addition to the pictures of the Sea Monkeys in shopping carts at home improvement stores, there were pictures of birthdays, Christmases, Halloweens, and vacations. I saw kids playing in desert yards, Great Plains yards, and yards buried (and I mean BURIED) under the Greatest Snow on Earth. If you don't believe me, read the license plates. It says so right there. I saw pictures of kids who sneaked off to fall asleep in their beds and pictures of kids who sneaked out of their beds to fall asleep on the floor. There were pictures of kids blowing out candles on cakes, eating cakes, and, of course, wearing cakes. As I looked at these pictures I noticed two things--not a single picture of my beautiful wife and I am (and I can prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt) the most fortunate man who has ever lived. And for that I am grateful. Blessings have been lavished upon me that I will never deserve.... I know that and I acknowledge that.

And despite all the feelings of gratitude, I hadn't found the picture for which I searched. It was a needle in a haystack. See I was looking for this picture (or a semblance, thereof).

See, the yellow lab (to the left) is Sabrina. You've seen a picture of her before. Sabrina is a Guide Dog flunkie. I've been advised to refer to this as a "second career", so as to avoid injuring her delicate self-esteem. Sabrina is my dog. The dog on the right is Penny. We got her as an "oops" from a friend. Penny is Sabrina's dog. I'm certain Penny cannot remember a day in her life without Sabrina.

Sabrina came to us in the summer of 1998, just a few months after we moved into our first house. She was, bar none, the best trained dog in neighborhood...until I got a hold of her. Sabrina has lived in every state in which I have lived. Really. California (for guide dog training). She moved back to Utah in 1998 to become my dog. She moved from Utah to Kansas with me in 2003. She moved from Kansas to Arizona with me in 2004. She was even willing to move back to Utah with me in 2007. For each move, Sabrina rode in the vehicle I drove. We played together, ran together, wrestled together, and hid out in basements during tornadoes together. We traveled the road between Clinton, Utah, and Carlsbad, California, who knows how many times together. I could go on and on about the things we've done together. This picture reminds me of Sabrina's favorite pasttime. I was, so often, the recipient of her expressions of love.

Sabrina and I have spent many days and nights side-by-side. She is gentle and concerned by nature. She is massively expressive with her eyes and eyebrows. She truly broke me in as a pet owner. I have always planned on being the one responsible for all of her care, regardless of what she required. However, I wasn't with her last night. I was 1,442 miles away from home, on business in Nashville, Tennessee, and Huntsville, Alabama. Sabrina left us in her sleep.

I've spent the day trying to occupy my mind with (what today anyways seems so trivial) thoughts of how to ensure the rocket that will someday carry astronauts to the International Space Station & the moon will function properly and meet its intended mission. Each time I lost focus, I had to fight the tears that wanted to flow knowing I will never have the opportunity to see my own "man's best friend" again.

I thought of my wife, who, once again, had to face a difficult challenge alone, because, once again, her husband was across the country (or across the ocean) on business (I am so sorry you had to handle this Karen). I thought of the Sea Monkeys, who, even though they try, will take several weeks to grasp that Sabrina is really gone. Even the First One is struggling with the concept, despite having lost one of our cats a couple of years ago. The Little Jamaican won't get it for several months, or maybe even a couple of years. I think about Penny, who, last night, lost her master, her friend, and really her momma. I've been told her tail has been between her legs all day long trying to figure out why she's alone.

Mostly, I think about Sabrina, and the years we spent as companions...the miles on foot, the miles by car, the of number times I wore my arm out throwing balls for her, the time my dad hit her with an aluminum bat because she was to impatient for the ball to actually get hit far enough for her to run after it, and the amount of things she destroyed even within the last couple of months with her teeth (I thought labs outgrew chewing). Mostly, I think about how grateful I am that yesterday afternoon, before I left for the airport, I had the opportunity to watch her run, full-bore, to her feed bowl. I'm also glad that I heard she ran the yard last night before going to bed. Sabrina, we will all miss you. You're a great pet, great dog, and great companion. I will, however, miss you more than the others...I knew that would be the case, though.

Lastly, I think about the three incredibly kind neighbors (one state trooper, one municipal police officer, and a director of new product training for Novell) who stepped up after I made a single phone call explaining the situation. They took upon themselves the task of removing Sabrina from her kennel and the kennel from the garage so Karen would have so much less to worry. And, to the director, an incredibly deep, heart-felt thanks for taking Sabrina and burying her on your family's farm, where I can stop on my way to or from work and say good-bye to the friend to whom I didn't get to bid farewell.

Good-bye, my friend.

Good-bye sweet puppy, I will miss you, too.

Funny backsides, cheap gas and missing you.

2008-10-28T20:29:00.009-06:00

Today as we were at the gas station, the Little Jamaican notices a man putting air in the tire of a motorized scooter. She starts chuckling and then full on laughing. She blurts out, "Mom, I see that guys butt cracker." Of course, I have to look, yep, you can see where the good Lord split him. Leave it to a four year old to notice, find funny and point out such a spectacle to the whole car.

Speaking of gas stations, I was so excited to see that one of the local gas stations is down to $2.59 a gallon for our lowest grade. Then because I'm apparently not thinking clearly, I decided to see what it cost for gas in some of the other places we lived. Most of them were a few cents to about 20 cents lower. Then I got to Kansas. You know where we lived in Kansas is down to $1.97 gallon. Suddenly $2.59 feels a little high.

The Rocket Scientist was business traveling last week. Sadly not leaving me much time to blog when I'm running around trying to keep the Sea Monkeys out of trouble all by myself. This week is not different, he left today, taking my heart and my sanity with him.

I miss you all. I will be doing my best to catch up with you. If I don't you will know that the Sea Monkeys are keeping me buried.

Funny stuff I learn about from my kids....

2008-10-26T23:22:00.003-06:00

The Little Jamaican kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I was having a heck of time understanding her. Finally, I got that she wanted to watch something. Then I had to ask many times what it was she wanted to watch, because it sounded like she said, "Chuv-chuvs." Ya.....I didn't have a clue, but the Rocket Scientist new what it was.

How to recapture trust?

2008-10-25T12:05:00.002-06:00

No this is not a "how to" post. This is a plea...........I have recently been thinking a lot about this. A LOT! When trust is broken, how do you recover it? Can you get back what you broke? Once you are untrustworthy are you always untrustworthy in the eyes of the person whose trust you broke? Do you let friendships go over trust issues? Spouses? What about children? How do you earn trust? How do you give trust? If you took time to read this, please take time to leave your thoughts. I really need to hear them.

Disclaimer: At the Rocket Scientists request, I am stating that this post has nothing to do with my marriage. We can't have you all thinking he is anything other than the Mr. Incredible he is.

The unknown use for a lime green bracelet

2008-10-23T10:16:00.005-06:00

There is no end to what my children will do to avoid going to bed!

Glazed.......

2008-10-21T23:00:00.000-06:00

Last week, was a busy one. One of my three sister's wanted her kitchen cabinets glazed. She seemed to be under some delusion that I was the person to talk to. Don't get me wrong.......I love to glaze. I'm just not sure I'm the person to talk to. That all said, my sister, her husband and myself got busy and glazed the cabinets and the oak handrails in her house.

Here is a before shot:

This is my sister that loves the water and loves boats. The following are the after shots. I also love the crown moulding and knobs on the cabinetry! I love how the color of the cabinets changed. It honestly makes them feel and look brand new.
There are home improvement projects I love and others I hate. This is one that I love. So which improvement projects do you love? Which do you hate? The top of my hate list is ripping out old flooring. (Makes my skin crawl. I can't help but think about all the stuff that is in the old flooring.)

Not enough branches in my family tree

2008-10-20T21:17:00.005-06:00

You may have noticed that I don't mention my mother-in-law much. I need to say up front, she is an amazing woman. I love and adore her, but most of all I miss her. My sweet Rocket Scientist lost his mother to cancer about 6 months after we got married. Ruth was her name. She fought cancer like a master ninja. In the end, though, I think it was just her time to go. God must have needed her more there than here. So, even though there are days it breaks my heart that she isn't here to meet 8 of her 11 grandchildren I know that there must be some Divine purpose in why she is there instead of here. Who knows, maybe she was one of the angels desperately working behind the scenes to help us get our children. (Trust me there were angels employed. Adoption is a miracle all of it's own.)

Ruth was from a holler in West Virginia. I love to hear the stories she told of her growing up there. She was kind enough to record a lot of her memories in both the written and audio formats. It really is a treasure to have. One of the things she talked about was that most of the people that lived in the holler were related. Everyone was related to either Hackney's or Hurley's or both. Before you were allowed to have a crush on someone, you had to figure out how far removed that family member was. (I know many of you are either laughing or cringing.)

Well tonight when we were out and about with our Sea Monkeys, the Wild Child was talking about how Mom and Dad lived together before we had kids. Then she proceeds to say that we even lived together when we were kids. The Rocket Scientists zooms in on this and says, "Your mother and I did not live together before we were married." The Wild Child's response to that, "Yes, you did! Mom was your sister!" The Rocket Scientist is now trying to control his need to laugh. "Baby, Wild Child, your mother is not and was never my sister!"

"Dad, she was too. Mom is your sister!"

"Nope, Wild Child, Grandma Ruth grew up in West Virginia, not me."

You would think after a conversation like this that the RS might have made some sort of head way, but no. She went to bed tonight, honestly believing that the RS and I are brother and sister.

On the Contrary!

2008-10-19T23:32:00.002-06:00

Have I ever mentioned that I love the charter school my 1st One and Wild Child attend. They are learning a ton. The best part of that is that they are excited about what they are learning. I don't know about you, but when I was is school they didn't teach us about "greeting" new people and proper etiquette for such situations in the 1st and 2nd grade. My 1st One came home and told me all about it. She even said, "You should say, 'Hello, my name is ........, it's a pleasure to meet you.' Mom, did you know that is a greeting?"

The kids have been doing a bunch of field work lately, aka: field trips, that have all been centered on or around trees and the products they provide us. They talk about how they grow, why leaves change color, what grows on trees, how we get paper form them and what might live in and around them, to name just a few. A few weeks ago the the 1st One was able to tour and Violin Making school. Can you believe how cool? I know you are all thinking......."OK....we get it. You like the school.......is there a point here?" No point......just a Wild Child story.

So this past week when the 1st One was at school and before it was time to take the Wild Child to afternoon Kindergarten, the Wild Child had the Little Jamaican and My Son sitting on the couch. She was literally making them stay there, because she had made a "Contrary" and they were doing field work, learning about some of the animals in her "Contrary." She had taken all the throw pillows off the couch and had made "cages" for some of her "animals" (aka: stuffed animals) and was pulling them out one at a time and talking about them to her brother and sister like she was a tour guide. Of course, this is all very amusing to me, especially since it took me forever to figure out what a "Contrary" was.

This is what I over heard as she was giving the tour of her conservatory. "This here is a weasel-rat. They live here in the forest. Can anyone tell me what a weasel-rat eats?" as she is holding up her stuffed animal that is actually a weasel she's named Womp. "Do they eat leaves? No. Do they eat bugs? No. Do they little kids? No. How about noses?" She lets out a little snort/laugh. "They eat HAIR! THEY EVEN EAT THEIR OWN HAIR!" Wow.........now that is a very self sufficient weasel-rat.

My list of excuses.....

2008-10-17T16:44:00.002-06:00

I'm feeling bad about not posting much this week and even worse about not reading so many of your blogs. I do have a list of excuses, but you all really don't want to hear them. I do have a ton of stuff to tell you all about, but still no time. I'll be back soon though....I have to tell you all about the Wild Child building a "Contrary" and show pictures of the cabinets my sister, BIL and myself glazed in thier house.

Happy Birthday, Jen!!!!!!!

2008-10-14T22:00:00.002-06:00

Sometimes in life, you meet people that you like right away. Jen who is Buried With Children is one of those people. Today is her birthday........so stop over and tell her Happy Birthday.

Jen, Happy Birthday. I hope this is your best birthday yet! Sorry that the video is so dark. We are still learning to carry a tune, but our sentiment is heart felt.

1st Snowfall

2008-10-13T20:33:00.002-06:00

Oh, how I love snow on green trees. Did I ever mention that I grew up near Lake Tahoe? That may be my definition of paradise. It really is beautiful there. The water is crystal clear and the pine trees almost have a coconut/pine essence that mingles with the mountain air. In the summer the air is hot and the lake is cold with sky scraping pine tree surrounding you. But the winters........oh the winters. The snow all over those pine tree over looking that blue lake is breath taking.
This is the snow that fell on Sunday. Not too much.Just enough snow to get the Wild Child all excited about snowmen and lobbing snow balls at her dad. You notice the flip-flops on the deck covered with snow? Yep, I think, most of us were still in summer mode when this storm said, "Hello.........You are not in Arizona anymore." I know, I know, we have been here a little over a year and half, but I still haven't adjusted back to having so many weather variations.
Oh hey, did you also notice the size of this deck? Can you really call this a deck? The builder we bought this house from calls it one, but I'm thinking that may not be the right word. I think we will put a real deck out there sometime next year.

No again, no again, no again

2008-10-11T14:30:00.000-06:00

I love when my kids are first learning to talk. There is something almost magical listening and watching as those patterns develop in their little heads.

My sweet Son at the tender age of seven is just really learning to talk. There is a lot I still don't understand, but there is a lot I do. Part of it is, he talks really, really, fast. If you know this child, you know that this is the exact opposite of everything about him. He likes to take his time. He doesn't like to rush anything. For a long time I worried his life's aspirations were to be a "couch potato."

Two of my new favorite phrases from him are: "No again, no again, no again" and "No bubbles" The first one he uses for the obvious things........the things that he doesn't want to do again. The other one is reserved for the washing of his hair. Nope, he doesn't want it washed. As a matter of fact, he doesn't like it combed or cut either. Trying to cut his hair is similar to what it must be like to shave a cat. It takes two of us. We don't subject a stylist to this as it is quite taxing. I hold his arms down and wipe his nose, as he is screaming through the whole thing and the Rocket Scientist shaves his head. Sounds like fun.....huh? Tomorrow will be one of those delightful days that My Son will get a haircut, at which point I am sure both he and I will be crying, "No again, no again, no again!"

It smells like.....

2008-10-10T20:34:00.003-06:00

SNOW! Yes, I am aware there is no snow in this picture, but it honestly smells like it. If you ask the weather man he'll tell you, we should see some this weekend.

So do you love it or hate it? Snow that is.

What's in an IQ score?

2008-10-08T21:06:00.001-06:00

Free-IQTest.net - IQ Test

Yeah........I'm not sure how accurate this little test is that I took, but I am going to believe that I am that intelligent today. (Trying to keep from rolling my eyes.)