My Blog

Napa Valley Ragnar--kill me now...

2011-04-22T16:01:00.000-07:00

Have I ever mentioned that I hate running?

I love soccer. I can play soccer all day long. But jogging? For fun/exercise/whatever? No thank you.

And yet, even with that definite attitude toward running, I have handed over my check for my entry fee to the 2011 Napa Valley Ragnar.

That is a running relay race.

Running.

On purpose.

I have until September 17th to get my buttocks in shape enough to not completely die in a relay race with 11 other people on my team.

My sister Susan is the runner. She enjoys it. She goes on vacation--big time vacations, like Aruba on her anniversary trip--and still takes the time to get out and run.

For fun.

I don't get that even a little.

Susan is going to be on the Ragnar team with me..it is her group that is doing it and she is letting me join in. She might regret it later, but I hope to have garnered a little better relationship with running by then than my hate/hate relationship I have now.

I am also running the Ragnar with my husband and with my 2nd daughter Raquel. Both of whom are the type who can run for a long time and not want to kill somebody.

Barely break a sweat.

I don't find them fun when running.

I let Raquel run with me last week and the stink ran backwards the whole time and wouldn't stop talking.

And expected me to respond to her questions and comments. Like I could take time from gasping for air to chat.

My 7 year old daughter rode her bike alongside while I ran and kept saying things like "You sure run slow, Mom"..and "I am pretty sure I could run faster than you." So I took her little bike from her and rode while she ran the rest of the way home.

Ha.

Showed her.

(Actually, she ran easily and quickly and still looked at me as if I were a huge disappointment..I am going to pretend it is because a 40-something year old woman probably should avoid riding a purple 20" bike, but I am not dim enough to really believe that)

I am posting my Ragnar decision here so it is public. I cannot back out. I am holding myself accountable.

If you see me jogging on the street please refrain from all laughter and rude comments.

It is always funny to yell "Run faster! You're winning!" to total strangers who are out jogging. Not so funny to be on the receiving end of that one.

So there you have it. I am running in the Napa Valley Ragnar. I'm sure the scenery will be marvelous even if I see most of it from between my knees as I am bent over sucking air.

Music Videos for your Viewing & Listening Pleasure

2011-04-08T06:06:00.000-07:00

The first video is the Hoobastank video I mentioned in my previous blog...if you got that far to notice. I like this song a lot.

And this one is an '80's favorite, although I don't remember the weirdness of the video...I guess 80's and 'weird video' are synonymous. :)

And since I am a mostly closet country listener eer since having a lovely Texan roommate Tammy who showed us all some tolerance for the genre, (although I usually only like the funny songs, like 'I'm Still a Guy' by Brad Paisley) here is one from Toby Keith that my whole family gets a kick out of:

That's it. Just 3 songs for you to enjoy today.

At least I posted again and didn't wait another 6 months like usual..:)

My 100th Post :)

2011-04-06T18:34:00.000-07:00

That is a lot of rambling...

In recognition of my 100th blog post I am going to make a list of random facts about me. Things I like, don't like. Things I find fascinating. Random. 100 of them, so random will be key. :) And yes, it is about me and my world...so you can just wait for blog #101 if you don't want to suffer through this. ;-D

1. I like Hershey's chocolate bars dipped in Jif peanut butter. Not Reeses. I mean the 'homemade' "You got your chocolate on my peanut butter!" stuff.

2. My favorite dinner since I was a kid is spaghetti.

3. I love dogs...but that said:

4. I don't like schnauzers or basset hounds.

5. Pet peeve #1-people's spelling errors with the to, too, two; your, you're; their, there, & they're

6. I don't know how to snow ski, but have lived in Utah my whole life. (It is the stopping I don't do well...)

7. I have actually gotten to the point where I have to do math to remember how old I am.

8. Favorite dessert type item: Kneader's Bakery's fruit tart. That is one dessert I would 'cheat' with and not feel one bit of remorse.

9. I don't like putting laundry away

10. Apparently I'm a "white" on the color code chart. Not really sure what that means.

11. I don't believe in palm readers/fortune tellers, but refuse to go to one 'just in case'. Which probably means I don't want to hear anything bad because I will worry..

12. Pet peeve #2-People who sing really loudly and really badly all at the same time without realizing that they are hurting the ears of everyone within 10 miles because they are positive they are most excellent at singing. Except when I am the one who is singing. That doesn't bug me. At that point people who are peeved at my singing bug me.

13. I get a kick out of people when they find out I knew and dated Doug before my mission. They still have the mindset that if a girl has the opportunity she should get married instead of going on a mission. For some that is probably true. For me it was never an option--I had my decision to go on a mission set since I was 8. It never crossed my mind to stay home and get married instead.

14. I don't like my kids to have the candy 'Nerds'. The reason? They have never, EVER had some without dumping most of them on the floor.

15. I also hugely dislike Easter grass in Easter baskets for basically the same reason...I find Easter grass all over the house. In July. It seems to expand and grow and multiply. Not unlike Easter bunnies...

16. I have a tendency to go to boutiques and shops looking for home furnishings/wall hangings/etc and end up getting nothing because I am sure I can do just as good of job painting a picture or making some sort of decoration just as well as what I could buy...and thus save a lot of money. I don't take into consideration that I never find time to make these things, so I go a long time with bare walls and little home decor.

17. I don't like sad movies. Happy endings are half the fun of a movie, so if it makes me cry but doesn't make me feel better at the wrap-up, I don't like it.

18. I have never seen the movie "Titanic" because of #17.

19. I want to learn how to play the guitar

20. I think it would be fun to learn to ride a motorcycle, but the whole hands, feet, shift, brake, gas thing is too much for my simple brain and coordination so I am fairly certain that I would learn and then I would crash. So actually learning to ride a motorcycle isn't very high on my list of things to do once I remember that part.

21. I have mentioned before that I am a decent ventriloquist because of liking to sing to my car radio without drivers around me realizing that I am belting out show tunes. Well, now I have decided that cell phones have made that trick unnecessary. I can sing and pretend I'm on my hands-free phone and no one bats an eye anymore. As long as I remember to not bob and weave aka:dance at the same time. That sort of throws it off a bit.

22. I think people should look at me and be surprised that I'm not 10 years younger than my real age. I don't feel this old so I can't possibly LOOK this old. Right? I know, I know...no one is surprised and I should just be glad people don't think I look 10 years OLDER than my real age. [that isn't nearly as satisfying to my ego...]

23. I am eating peanut M&M's right now and they are NOT part of my diet. [muahaha....]

24. I like to golf

25. I am allergic to walnuts. If I eat them they give me canker sores. Which is unpleasant, but sometimes I eat them anyway just to live on the edge. (And if they happen to be encased in caramel and chocolate..)

26. I have the best parents in the world. :)

27. One of my favorite songs is 'The Reason' by Hoobastank. Interesting music video too which I will post as post #101 so you can hear it..

28. What in the heck does 'Hoobastank' mean and why did they make that the name of their band??

29. On the birth order charts, I don't think I fit many of the 'oldest child' category listings..except for the part about not liking change. And maybe the part about being bossy. ;)

30. I think I am hilarious. Even when no one else does.

31. Sometimes I catch my reflection in my car window and am surprised at how old I am. Dang it.

32. I've stopped watching very much tv. The only thing I watch really is Sportscenter. It started out as wind down time with Doug after the kids are in bed. Ends up being me watching while he falls asleep on the couch. (Stupid car reflection is rubbing off on every other aspect of my life showing me getting older..)

33. I've learned the hard way to never ask questions you really don't want to truthful answer for. Like "Who looks older, me or that person (who looks at least 10 yrs older than me...to me)over there?"; or "Do I look like I've gained weight?"

34. My favorite chocolate like item for the past couple of years is chocolate covered cinnamon bears. Love them.

35. Food storage is fine and dandy until you realize half of what you have expired 3 years ago. Apparently 'rotate' isn't in my storage vocabulary.

36. Zumba is fun.

37. I see joggers and wish I thought jogging was fun. But I hate jogging. (probably should have capitalized the 'h' in that...)

38. I am really, really bad at making sure I serve a vegetable with dinner. I'm not fond enough of vegetables in general to want to make them. I only like them when served to me. :)

39. I think one of the reasons why I am a Primary teacher in my church is so that I will go home on Sundays liking my own kids more...because:

40. Other people's children drive me a little nuts. Not all of them. Just a select few.

41. I don't feel bad about #40 because I have kids of my own who fill that same reality for all other Primary (and school) teachers. And, lets be honest, most neighbors too.

42. One of the best places in the world to 'people watch' is the State Fair. Holy moley.

43. On the lines of #42, I have begun the self-entertainment of secretly taking photos of some of the most..interesting..characters I run across at large public places..like the fair and Lagoon. But not in a creepy way. Somehow this one doesn't sound quite right...

44. Why is it that the very second you start a healthy eating regimine, you suddenly have a plethora of junk food in your house?

45. 'Plethora' is a funky word.

46. I always thought I was a decent speller...but I am a huge fan of the spell checker.

47. I really, really, really like my Nook eReader.

48. I am a most excellent 2nd in command. In my opinion, I do better when I have to keep track of what other people are doing--i.e. I think I was a much better junior companion than senior comanion on my mission. So I don't do totally in charge well...but am good at keeping the one who is in charge in line and on task. (Okay, I nag...)

49. I get annoyed by stupid people a lot more quickly than I used to..which annoys me more because I can feel the inherited scowly furrows between my eyebrows deepen as I unintentionally give them my 'you've got to be kidding me' look.

50. I'm halfway to the end of this blog post. Still with me?

51. I'm glad I can blame my 'scowly furrows' on an inherited facial feature. I would hate for the furrows to be there just because I am ornery. :)

52. Two favorite college traditions--and I will put them in two numbers because 100 items are getting harder to come up with--1. Studying for finals with roommates and taking a break at 2 a.m. by driving to Denny's for hot chocolate and a side of hashbrowns.

53. And 2., also a food tradition during finals: eating oatmeal cookie dough.

54. Speaking of which, I really don't like oatmeal cookies. The dough I love. The cookies, not so much. Unless there are raisins in the dough and then I wouldn't touch it with a 10 ft. pole..Ick.

55. In case you couldn't tell...I don't like raisins.

56. I also don't like olives or celery. I've tried my whole life to like those things, but just plain don't.

57. My favorite daughter, nay, my favorite child is Victoria.

58. I have funny kids..as you can tell by #57 when I left this blog up and someone took over. :) I love them all.

59. I eat some foods weird...for example, I really prefer to eat a Snickers by eating the bottom part first and then the top. So I eat the nugat off and then leave the caramel/peanut part for last. This particular habit drives my husband crazy. But he is the type to eat an Oreo like any old cookie and not take it apart. So what does he know? :)

60. If Snickers would come in a version of only carmel and peanuts it would make both me AND my husband happy. Me, because it would no longer be a drawn out process for eating it, and my husband because he would no longer get disgusted with seeing me dissect a candy bar.

61. Much to my embarassment, I am a sympathy crier. I was much 'tougher' before my mission. Could hold it back better. Now there is no stopping it. Darn it all.

62. If I had monthly discretional funds, I would pay to have someone else clean my house. Total no brainer on that one.

63. When I was a teenager, I looked forward to being 26. I thought I would be single, have a german shepherd and a Jeep..and 26 seemed old enough to be finally considered an adult, but young enough to have lots of fun. Instead at 26 I was married with a baby and one more on the way—I did have a german shepherd though.. Funny how real life is usually a bit different than you expect. It was at that time a completely different kind of ‘fun’. I never thought I would be 26 watching Barney for my ‘fun’. :)

64. Even after years of dealing with my computer, I still consider myself computer illiterate. I do things the hard way with the computer programs. Kind of annoying to see Doug zip through an Excel worksheet inserting all kinds of fun and having it work out quickly, after I have just spent an hour doing what just took him 3 minutes.

65. Coming up with 100 thoughts, things about me, etc. is harder than I thought. I started this stupid blog entry 4 months ago.

66. I have a most excellent husband. I am very proud of all he accomplishes at work and at church. He knows practically everyone in the Stake from being on the high council for the last 5+ years, and I can honestly say that he genuinely likes everyone he meets and they seem to all genuinely like him back. He loves public speaking and it shows in the talks he gives. They are always filled with humor and insight and even I get compliments on his behalf once he has spoken to a ward or group from people who were touched by something he said or did.

67. I, on the other hand, hate public speaking..have a hard time keeping names and faces right, and prefer to be anti-social. So we are a good balance. :)

68. One thing I can do, however, that Doug cannot, is list descriptions and traits of pretty much every AKC recognized breed of dog, and some that aren’t recognized. It is a skill, like anything else. Not one to really brag about I suppose…but it is something. :)

69. I hate all things math. I can actually feel my brain rebel against working when I look at a math problem. Mostly because I look at a math problem and can’t really figure out where the question is. Fractions make my head hurt.

70. Hallelujah, only 30 more of these to go. Are you still reading along? Or are you skim reading the same way I am skim writing?

71. I love to read. I am a fast reader, so I can whip through a book quickly which makes me feel a little less guilty about reading when I should be cleaning instead.

72. My favorite cereal as a kid was ‘Freakies’. Discontinued for a long time now. Here is a picture of the box: 73. Favorite cereals now are still from that time..I like Count Chocula & BooBerry & Frankenberry cereals. Harder to find except around Halloween, which might actually be why I like them so much still.

74. We have always loved German Shepherds, but since I insist on our next dog being a mostly indoor dog, and GSD’s shed more than anything and would drive us all crazy to live in that amount of dog hair, we are looking to find a new breed of dog to own. If anyone has a suggestion, our criteria is the following—large size, more rare breed (i.e. not a lab or something that everyone seems to have…not necessarily rare in the exact sense), low shedding, good with people. We are open to suggestions.

75. The very best place to have a hot dog is at a ball park. (duh)

76. Mariah will be in 1st grade next year. So that means I will get to finally go back to school and finish my degree. Too darn bad I STILL have no idea what I want that degree to be in. If I could find a job instead I would probably do that. But I think I need a degree to be more employable. For all the jokes about how much a homemaker does and how to put it all on a resume, I don’t see employers going for that whole shpeel.

77. I think back on things my mom allowed me to do and wonder to myself “What was she thinking??” Letting us ride our bikes from our home in Bountiful to my dad’s work in SLC…by taking a busy-even-then Redwood Road from Bountiful to 1100 South in SLC? My kids wish I were as nice as Grandma Jamie. I get cranky when they want to go to the Smith’s a mile away that has sidewalks the whole way and only one light to cross.

78. I still wish I had a Jeep. Or a Lotus Elise. :) Playing xbox GT2000 made me really like the Lotus.

79. I might be the worse player ever for Halo, but that GT2000 was MINE. I owned that game. Beat everyone. Which is probably why the family enjoys beating me at Halo now. I just can’t get the controller and my head to match up…I try to make it look up, it looks down. Every time.

80. I can’t believe I still have to come up with 20 more of these things…if you are still reading—more power to ya.

81. I like to fish.

82. I don’t know how to fly-fish.

83. We have a wall mural in my house that I painted that when completely finished will be a subtle mockery of everyone who has the cheesy sayings in vinyl on their walls. Mine will have vinyl sayings too…but it will have quotes like “Be excellent to each other.” –Bill S Preston, Esquire. I’m looking forward to the completed wall.

84. I don’t think Doug wanted me to let everyone know about #83. I think part of the fun was going to be seeing everyone read the quotes and weeding out kindred spirits by those who ‘got’ the humor, and those who just see a nice quote. :)

85. I hope you realize that this post might put me off posting for awhile again. My ideas are already sporadic on blog topics…this one is throwing me right off the edge.

86. I personally realize that this post will probably put anyone reading my blog off my blog indefinitely. Sorry about that.

87. One of my favorite sayings is the Murphy’s Law—“All things being equal, a fat person requires more soap than a thin person.” Unfortunately I think about that saying almost every time I take a shower. Annoying really. But I still like the quote.

88. Favorite actors of mine(please see previous blog for lovely photos of these guys)…for their acting ability and/or handsome good looks: Cary Grant, Josh Duhamel, Colin Firth and Ryan Reynolds.

89. Favorite actress of Doug’s..I think more for the handsome good looks although she is a good actress too: Halle Berry

90. I don’t have a favorite restaurant. I don’t like having to pick a place to go eat, because I honestly don’t care. I wish I cared. I like to eat. I like the Market Street Grills, Ruth’s Chris, etc., but I also am just as happy at IHOP or Kneaders. Guess I’m an easy date.

91. My oldest daughter is going away to college in the fall. I’m going to miss her.

92. I am not looking forward to my kids getting married and having kids. It will make me a grandmother. Once you get that title, you can no longer pretend to be young. No matter your actual age. Once you have ‘grandma’ tacked next to your name, you have a whole different persona..if not to yourself, to everyone else.

93. I don’t like minivans.

94. I am a breast cancer survivor..but it is hard for me to think of it that way. It feels like I didn’t go through enough compared to all of the other women that needed chemo, etc. to fight it. All I had was a mastectomy and reconstruction. I’m not complaining..I just think other women fought more valiantly. I was very, very blessed to have found it early enough to not have to go through more than I did.

95. Almost there….do these ones count? I’m counting them. Shows everyone how I like to cut corners. :)

96. My first car was an ’84 Ford Escort hatchback. I loved that car. It was an oxidized blue and it got me to Dixie and back umpteen times. My brother totaled it. Luckily he was unhurt, but my poor car went to junkyard heaven.

97. My first job outside of working for my dad, was as a waitress at a small diner in Bountiful. I didn’t last long. I hated that job.

98. I wish I spoke better Portuguese. I think I might take lessons sometime and finally try to get those verbs down pat.

99. I love DisneyWorld. I went there on my honeymoon and then we took the family there on our 13th wedding anniversary—because we were married on a Friday the 13th. Which is kind of fun in and of itself. :)

100. I really like writing in this blog, even though I don’t seem to manage to get to it as often as I used to. I will do better. It is a new goal. Okay, it is an old goal, but one I hope to actually achieve one of these days.

DONE. :) You need to go get a nice beverage to reward yourself for sitting through this one. Thanks for reading my 100th blog.

Blogging in 2011

2011-04-06T11:06:00.000-07:00

I always seem to surprise myself on how long I go between posts here. Already April and I haven't posted a single blog post. I will say that I have been writing on my blog for the past couple of months in anticipation for my 100th blog post.

This one is number 99.

Number 100 just got finished, but then I realized that one of the number I was counting is just in drafts, so you can only see 98.

So this is a random blog written with the sole purpose of taking up space to get to #100.

Doesn't say much about the quality of this post I suppose. I will have to come up with something interesting to mention so that it doesn't waste your time....

Hmmm...

Instead of posting words, I will post photos of the 4 celebs I mention in my 100th posting that I really like. A little 'eye-candy' will hopefully go a long way toward forgiving my lack of interesting posts. :) These guys are favorites of mine. I don't think they need introduction or explanation. :0)

In age order:

[sigh]

Yep. The old "a picture is worth a thousand words" should work just fine here. Hope you enjoyed this post #99. Post #100 will be up either later today or tomorrow. Just so you know. And if you don't know someone in the above pictures just ask. I'll be surprised, but ask anyway...:)

Firsts

2010-12-02T21:16:00.000-08:00

Did you ever wonder about the people who did things first?

I'm not talking Adam and Eve being the first people on earth...although now that you mention it, I might ponder a bit on that later...

I'm talking about weird foods eaten, or inventions tried, or... hmm. I can be a bit more specific. Try this out:

What about the first guy who invented and tried the neti pot. Do you know what the neti pot is? It is a teapot looking device that you put warm water and a saline solution in and you put it up your nose to supposedly clear the sinuses. You do it twice. Once for each nostril. You actually put the spout up one nose hole, and then lean over a sink to let the liquid go from that nostril and drain through and then out the other nostril. There is a bit of an 'ick' factor involved.

Who thought that would be a brilliant idea?

I have neighbors who swear by the neti pot. "Haven't had to use my inhaler for the past month", "Stops me from getting a worse cold"...etc. etc.

Why do I know about the neti pot?

Because I have had a sinus issue for way too long and figured I might as well try it. If I don't have to go get more antibiotics and this clears it up, it will be worth it.

I can't tell if it is helping. I do know that it is providing fascinating entertainment for any child of mine who happens by when I use it. And they usually want to chat about it while I'm neti-ing, which if you know how it works you have to breathe out your mouth so the saline doesn't switch tracks and go down your throat. Makes it difficult for conversation.

Not that I would want to hold a conversation with people (even a 7 year old) while liquid is coming out my nose and I'm holding a teapot to my nostril. Gross.

I'm not good at completely getting rid of the liquid either. I think I'm good to go and then when I least expect it I will lean over to pick something up and a stream of water will come out my nose.

Are you picturing this?

At least one neighbor has had the 'privilege' of being present for this lovely occurrence. I'm not really planning on them visiting again anytime soon.

So why would someone invent this? Who?

Knowing the Internet, you could probably go to youtube and have a lovely demonstration of the right way to use a neti pot.

Which makes me wonder who in the world would think that filming themselves doing that would be a good idea??

I guess it could be worse. What about the person who first ate tripe? Seriously. I know the whole story about how it is a delicacy in Portugal because during some famine it saved lives by people resorting to eating it. But I could never wrap my head around any food made from a body part that was specifically built to not be digested. Eating stomach doesn't make sense to me.

Or what about the person who was first to run with the bulls in Spain?

[Is it just me, or do you think that large quantities of alcohol were probably involved in some of the world's 'firsts'?]

I can picture a bunch of drunken Spaniards leaning on the gate of a pen that is holding mean looking bulls and having them joke and jostle and double-dog dare each other to try to reach in and touch one. Jostling gets too rough, gate opens, and *ding ding ding* the first running of the bulls takes place. Drunk guys trying to get out of the way of angry beasts of burden. No one dying. So they decide "what the heck? let's do this again next year!"

Brilliant. A tradition is born.

Anyway. There you go. My rambling thoughts brought on by sinus issues and neti pots.

Tup

2010-11-09T11:01:00.000-08:00

My daughter Olivia has an imaginary friend. His name is Tup. He has been her imaginary friend for years, and the whole family has grown to like him quite a bit.

I have always thought it would be fun to write a story about Tup, so I started one awhile ago. I didn't get very far into the story because I realized that it was very possible that at the end of my story, Tup would no longer be needed and would 'disappear'. I don't like sad endings, but couldn't figure out how to make it anything but a cliched end...

Tup will now probably be the only imaginary friend on the planet whose creator (Olivia) is kept alive forever because of his creator's mother (me).

Every November 23rd (Tup's "birthday") I will probably remind Olivia about her friend Tup and how we used to make "Tup-cakes" to celebrate his happy day. (true story)

Sad how I like her friend so much. Can't decide yet if it is creepy-sad, or just get-a-life sad...

Anyway..

Here is part of the story I wrote about Tup. It isn't long at all, and ends short, but now you can know more about him and maybe hope he doesn't 'disappear' someday too. :)

TUP

In the way back corner of the mind of a child, something sparkled. It grew and took shape. It changed, it laughed, it danced. It came to be.

The life of an imaginary friend is not always a long one. Sometimes the life is fleeting. A life that is there for only a matter of days, until the child whose imagination created it moves on to other objects of fascination. Usually objects that have actual physical substance. Objects that can be held and touched, like a teddy bear or a blanket.

And sometimes the life of an imaginary friend, while still not long in terms of human life, will last for a few short years. An invisible being who is allowed to enjoy the ups and downs and all around chaos that rules in the everyday life of a child.

Occasionally an imaginary friend will be lucky enough to be created in the mind of a child who always believes. Always remembers. Those imaginary friends are around the child for a lifetime, from its creation until both the child and the friend pass together from mortality. Bonded together by love and comfort that no one outside their circle really understands.

One such imaginary friend burst into its version of reality in the mind of a small girl named Olivia. Olivia had a very vivid imagination, for which the new friend was happy, and she quickly decided that her friend was a boy named Tup.

In four-year-old Olivia's mind, Tup is the ideal boyfriend. He brings flowers and always says kind things to her. He is there whenever she needs him, and he doesn't mind when she gets distracted and doesn't think about him for awhile. After all, a four-year-old is constantly growing and moving and changing. It is hard work growing up, and sometimes things that are important to them are put aside for a moment until they remember to slow down a little and not forget those who they love.

Tup had no complaints. He knew that Olivia was special and that he was very lucky indeed to have been created in such a child. He felt honored to be classed as a member of the family, and was equally grateful that her parents and siblings encouraged her imagination--even going so far as to making him a real birthday cake on the date that Olivia declared was his birthday.

Tup sat quietly in the corner of Olivia's room and watched as she colored on the bright paper with crayons. He smiled as he watched her draw a picture of herself, ponytails and pink ribbons and a triangle shaped body. A warm fuzzy feeling grew in his heart as he watched her draw him standing next to her. His eyes in her drawing were two very different sizes. He had color and substance in the drawing instead of the vague impressions of his reality.

Olivia suddenly looked up and turned toward him.

"Tup, what color do you want your shirt?"

"What color would look best?" Tup's eyes sparkled with good humor.

"I think today you would look your very best in blue." Olivia turned back to her crayons and started to reach for the cornflower blue. She paused. "No, I think maybe green." She grabbed the dark green from the box and frowned in concentration as she colored the square shape that was his shirt.

"Green is a good choice, Olivia." Tup walked over to stand beside Olivia.

"Thank you Tup." Olivia smiled, but didn't look up from her paper.

After a few more minutes of coloring, Olivia tilted her head and scrutinized her drawing. Her eyes squinted in concentration and then she finally held the drawing up towards Tup and looked at him questioningly.

"I'm done now. Do you like it?"

Tup leaned over her shoulder and looked at the picture. He tilted his head and pretended to study it deeply, his arms crossed and his finger tapping his chin.

"I do believe it is your best work yet, Olivia." He announced, and felt a warm tingle as he was rewarded by her brilliant smile.

"Thank you, Tup." Olivia jumped up and walked out of her room, fully expecting Tup to follow. "I am going to hang this on the fridge so everyone will see."

"That is a very good idea." Tup watched as Olivia stretched up on her tiptoes to reach the poodle shaped magnet she would need to stick her drawing to the fridge.....

Fly-On-The-Wall

2010-11-05T08:30:00.000-07:00

When you go on a trip and are driving across country, past towns you've never heard of or cities that you would usually not consider visiting, do you ever look at the homes and wonder what the lives of the people who live there are like? What they do for a living? What struggles they have? If they like living in the middle of nowhere?

Maybe it's just me.

I'll see people out in their yards and wonder if we would be friends if I knew them. Or I wonder what it would be like to change places with them for just a moment--not the "Freaky Friday" way, but just enough to get an insight on what someone else is going through.

I will drive through Idaho and past small farming communities during the Christmas holiday season and wonder what the people in that little farmhouse that you can see from the freeway will be doing on Christmas morning.

That would be my ideal "fly-on-the-wall" situation...to just be able to observe strangers in their homes with their families. To get insight on their joys and their struggles. To see if they are as crazy as the general populace, or if they are unique.

Of course, I wonder about people as I pass them on the freeway just driving around town too.

I realized today that although I might be driving my husband to the airport at 6 a.m., most people in the cars around me are headed for work. But they probably think that is where my husband and I are going too. They don't know we are airport bound.

Or when I was being driven to the hospital for my cancer surgery I remember watching the cars pass and thinking that no one knew I had breast cancer and was going in for a mastectomy. They have their own lives and probably don't give two thoughts to the people they are driving by.

Have you ever thought about this kind of stuff?

If you had your choice of three people to go and be a 'fly-on-their-wall', who would you choose? Would you choose a celebrity, a mentor, a homeless person? How do you think it would change your perspective on life in general if you could have that moment of complete understanding of someone else's life? Would it change you?

Hmm. Interesting.

I would choose someone who gives all the appearance of having a fabulous life first. Perfectly behaved kids, sweet husband, etc. No one can be that fabulous behind their own doors all the time, can they? I would be hoping to either see her secret for this fabulous life so I could emulate some of it, or I would be hoping to see a bit of a meltdown so that I would know that she is as normal as the rest of us but hides it better.

Next I would choose one of those random farmhouses in Idaho. Mainly to ease my curiosity and imagination. I wouldn't expect any great revelation except to see that they are normal people with a house that happens to be seen easily by I-84 traffic.

And last, hmm. I am not sure. A homeless person would give me more empathy. A celebrity would probably do the same thing, but I could turn around and help a homeless person. I don't think a celebrity would be that interested in 'help' from someone who has an Average Joe lifestyle.

I will have to think on that last one. Maybe your ideas will give me a better idea of who to use that 3rd fly on. So post comments and let me know. Pretty please. :)

Jane Austen Thoughts

2010-11-04T08:25:00.000-07:00

I am going to just start typing and see where it takes me. If it doesn't make sense to you don't worry. It isn't making sense to me either. Even in my head. And usually the blog in my head is fantastic. :)

All blog thought started this week when I started thinking about Jane Austen....

As you can tell by the graphic on my blog, I am a Jane Austen fan. (Well, more specifically a Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy Pride & Prejudice fan...but I like all things Austen too..)

Jane Austen has brought women all over the world--from all walks of life, all ages, etc. etc.--together with the shared love of a good story, a brooding hero and a spunky heroine.

I have a friend who is probably the biggest Colin Firth fan around. She and I were just acquaintances until the Sunday she taught a lesson and managed to throw out an obscure Pride & Prejudice quote. I am fairly certain I was the only one in the room who caught the line, and after class I talked with her about it and we have been good friends ever since.

A&E's version of Pride & Prejudice has made it so anyone who has seen it multiple times will immediately know the scene if someone simply says, "On foot?" But anyone who can pull off throwing Austen-speak into a Sunday school lesson...well, that is something special. :)

This friend of mine had a birthday a while ago, and to celebrate she and a bunch of other women in our neighborhood got together to watch the new British version of Emma. It was good. It was a bit disconcerting for me to watch though, because partway through the movie my head started comparing Austen characters to real-life people and I distracted myself.

So here is where my brain wants to work through this really well. It is trying. I hope this comes out coherently...

I've decided that for the most part, a lot of women who read Jane Austen or watch movies based on her novels have chosen favorite characters and wish that their life would imitate her art. At least a little.

Most women who are Austen fans wish their significant other had a little bit of Darcy's presence. Maybe a little bit of Bingley's charm. Perhaps some of Mr. Knightly's common sense. And we really, really hope that he has no resemblance whatsoever to Mr. Collins. :)

Most women who are Austen fans probably wish they were a little more like Elizabeth (witty, bold, and thought to be one of the prettiest girls in the county), and perhaps a little less like Emma (although pretty, she tends to be more like the rest of us--speaking before thinking, accidentally hurting other's feelings, being a little bit flighty and self-centered)

I guess that is what a good writer hopes to accomplish. Having the reader be able to put themselves into the heroine/hero part without thinking about it. Being able to relate to some, if not all of the story and characters.

I know I have a 'Mrs. Bennett' in my acquaintance.

I know women who have characteristics of Jane Bennett. Elizabeth is a bit more of an enigma, but some of her traits can be seen in some of my friends.

I DO know men like Mr. Collins. Happily, my husband isn't one of them.

My mom doesn't like Jane Austen books. She knows they are British and reads them as haughty. I think she would like the humor if she would 86 the accent. :)

Anyway. That's my rambling on Jane and her characters for today. I hope that if I ponder on this any longer, that I will pinpoint some of the character qualities that I wish I had personally and try to work on them.

Or maybe I will just start speaking in a bad British accent...that might be easier.

Just a conversation to share :)

2010-11-03T08:03:00.000-07:00

Here is how the mind works in the children of this family...follow along with their conversation they had with me while driving home from some random activity this past summer:

Kady(age 17): "Mom, I have no clothes. They are all too small or not good for summer. We need to go shopping."

Victoria (age 12): "Yeah. What she said."

Kady: "See? We all need clothes. You can take Victoria and me shopping. Otherwise we will have no clothes at all and will have to go to school naked."

Victoria: "Yeah."

JD (age 10--popping off from the backseat of the car): "If they had 'Naked Day' at school, I don't think I would like it very much."

Kady: "JD!"

Victoria: "There are definitely some kids who wouldn't look good naked."

JD: "I was thinking that it would be bad to see the naked teachers."

Me (age old): "Maybe 'Naked Day' would actually be a good thing to help with obesity in children. We'd hear them say "Dang, 'Naked Day' is coming up in just a couple of months..I'd better go work out and stop hitting the vending machines instead of eating lunch."

Husband: "Maybe we should stop talking about 'Naked Day'."

Party pooper. ;)

Voting Day

2010-11-02T12:38:00.000-07:00

Today is Election Day. I have already done my civic duty and voted this morning. Some Republican, some Democrat.

One thing always sticks out for me when I vote... I never study the judges enough to have a clue as to whether I think they should stay in or be voted out. I tell myself every year when I leave the polling booth that "next time you will read those over better and go in with an idea of who shouldn't be there anymore."

I don't ever, ever listen to myself.

All I remember is that most of them seemed to have pretty high ratings.

And I feel a bit silly hearing the beep of the voting station as I just hurry through and click 'yes' on all of the judges. It seems to shout out that I am not very informed and am just having a really good time pushing the screen button.

Another thing I re-learn at election time is that I wish I had a better head for politics. I have a few convictions. I am not good at voicing political opinions I have. I wonder if I practice that if I would get better, or if I would still know that somewhere back in my brain I have a fantastic rebuttal to something someone has just said...but I can't for the life of me remember exactly what that rebuttal would be. I have a tendency to mix metaphors and juxtapose stories so that instead of two really good points, I make one half-baked crazy sauce point.

I'd be really good at making points for the opposing team. Whichever team that may be at the moment.

I would love to be able to hold up my end of a political conversation. I would love to sound as informed as Glenn Beck--love him or hate him, the man knows his stuff and he loves his country.

Plus he disses Joy Behar which is fun to hear. [She is a bitter woman. How can she stand to be that unhappy all the time?]

Doug would like to be involved in politics. He would be fantastic at anything like that. When he mentions it, I try so very hard to keep it all about him and not swing it my direction..i.e. "I can't be a _____'s wife. People will ask me questions. I will have to have my brain working faster than my tongue--which has never happened in my entire life. I will have to look composed and "with it"...crap."

I guess I should just start my 2011 resolutions now...1. Study the issues and get an opinion set enough that you can vocalize it in a social situation, but not be so stuck on it that you can't understand both sides. (I didn't say agree with both sides--just understand them).

It is a darn good thing people are told to avoid talking religion and politics in social situations. Maybe I will be okay...

I also need to start listening to myself. If I don't, I might miss out on hearing myself say something really awesome in 2011. That would be sad.

Go vote.

God Bless America. :)

Hints and Clues...and NaNoWriMo

2010-11-01T10:03:00.000-07:00

Here are some hints and clues I have learned or observed recently that might make your life easier to navigate. I wish I had paid more attention to the learned part before the learning had to take place. (Kind of a 'learn from my mistakes' thing):

1. If you start out a conversation with your husband "I did something today, but if it makes you mad I can fix it.", you probably realized at some point during the doing of the thing that your husband might not approve. Like getting sucked into a door-to-door salesman's pitch for the first time in years and then, yes, after having the conversation with your husband having to go and cancel agreements before the '3-day rule' expires. Basically, if you know you will probably have this conversation, tell the salesman "No". Saves time, hassle, and marital bliss.

2. You can wish and hope and pray, but in the end if you don't eat more healthy and be more active there will come a day when "sucking it in" is no longer an option. And with that, holding your breath while standing on a scale at the doctor's office will NOT make you lighter.

3. When keeping your appointments on a calendar, you must LOOK at the calendar to make sure you don't miss anything. Just writing it down does not automatically make you remember what you have going on...which is why you wrote it down in the first place. I could give too many examples of this, so instead I will just move on...

4. Things to not forget in order to feel like you are a decent parent: 1. Tooth Fairy, 2. Early-out days at school, 3. Tooth Fairy. (seems like such a small thing, but seriously...if you have ever been awakened by the sad face of a kid who thinks the tooth fairy forgot them...I'm just saying, don't forget that one. Trust me...)

5. Blogging only works if you publish what you write. I have about a dozen unfinished blogs all waiting patiently for me to either finish or delete. Since it has been since April that I have posted, I need to work harder on this one.

6. If you facebook, don't post profile photos that make you look unnaturally thinner than you look in real life. (key word: unnaturally) I have some fb friends who have done that and it is borderline creepy looking. If you are heavier, rejoice in the extra you. ;) That said, I haven't changed my profile photo for a long time because I don't have any "good" pictures of me. Which translated means "makes me look thinner". Guess I will have to actually lose weight to get that kind of photo. Dang it.

I really hope that is enough insight to give for now. I'm starting to depress myself. :)

On a side note, I've decided to join the NaNoWriMo this month. Which means I am going to start today from scratch and write for 30 days through this month of November to complete a 50,000 word novel. It won't be good. The point is to just write. No editing, etc. This is a "get 'er done" type challenge. If it ends up decent, December will be my go back and edit month. We'll see how it goes.

It might be that I'll come back and add a #7...Don't try to write 50,000 words when kids won't even let you use the bathroom without suddenly needing something and pounding on the door. Guess I might be having some late night write fests.

I'll let you know how it goes. :)

In Case You Missed My Rambling Ways :)

2010-04-19T21:29:00.000-07:00

It has been 5 months since I have added to my blog. Yes, FIVE months...it flew by for me, and all the spam comments I just 86'd only emphasized the fact that I really should check my blog more often.

I probably should write more frequently if for no other reason than to take some of the pressure off for writing something brilliant. I mean, if I haven't written for five months surely something fabulous has happened or some extraordinary mental genius has come to my attention to write about here.

Surely.

Okay, I was dreaming too.

Really the only great insight I have made lately is that I am shocked that a six year old child who has grown up in this household thinks that if he throws himself on the ground screaming and arching his back to emphasize his world collapse as he knows it, will somehow get me to change my answer from "No" to "Yes".

Why do my kids (all of them, really) think that whining will make me want to jump up and do whatever it is that will make them happy.

You would think that after all this time with having me as the mom, they would realize that I am just as thrilled to keep saying 'no' when they are throwing fits as I was the first time I said 'no'. More so, actually. I start getting a kick out of calmly stepping over the thrashing form of child and going about my merry way.

The old "what part of no did you not understand" is probably over used in our house, but seriously. The first time I change the "no" to a "yes" because I don't want to hear the screaming fit anymore will be the end of my reign as 'Queen' here, and I will just become a lowly peasant placed here to cater to the children's every whim.

I soooo don't need that.

I keep waiting for my kids to get old enough that reasoning with them works. To figure out that their actions have consequences. That no means no--and that I rarely say no just for the heck of it.

I think my mom is probably still waiting for me to figure those things out too.

I want to keep this post kind of short just so I make sure I actually post the blog. So to end, here are 5 things I have learned over the past few weeks that have to do with my kids:

1. 5 minutes in the microwave is too long for microwave popcorn. It scorches. And it makes the house smell bad for a solid 24 hours.

2. 6 year old boys and 5 year old girls should not be allowed to use a microwave unsupervised. (See #1) --['allowed' is a tricky word there....if they don't ask permission, they don't hear 'no'. They hear 'NOOO!!', but by then they have had their fun. :) ]

3. A 10 year old boy can hold an entire conversation about video games in a way that seems like I should understand at least a few of the words coming out of his mouth, but ends up with me zoning out--like when Grandma used to tell her meter-maid stories for the 50th time--instead of me trying to keep up with the whozits and the whatzits of the gaming world.

4. I have moody daughters. I was hoping to get a pass on that, since I am not the moody type. I guess with 5 girls, my odds were stacked against me anyway.

5. I must really love my son to be able to sit though an "opera" about the rock cycle that was completely written by four classes of 4th graders, and still act thrilled to be there. He did a marvelous job. It was a solid hour of "Holy crap, how did Doug get so lucky to be out of town this week on business?" And honestly the 5 minutes my kid was onstage made it worth it--he was "Joker Rock" and had to do a staged fall that ended up being him really tripping over his monkey slippers and hitting his goggled face into the stage. Looked like it hurt, but he was sure it was a sign that he is a really good actor to make the fall more real. I could have done without the other 55 minutes, but what the heck. I now know more about the rock cycle than I ever wanted to know.

(My parents can thank me later for 'forgetting' to mention the opera to them, so they didn't have to sit through it too. :) )

I will start writing more regularly again. I guess that can be good or bad depending on your take on my blog I suppose.

If nothing else, I have not forgotten how to ramble. So I have that going for me.

Catching Up on Rambling x 10

2009-11-21T13:15:00.000-08:00

I can't believe the entire month of October passed without me posting even a tiny blog entry.

Well, actually I guess I do believe a whole month can pass without me posting...truth is that I can't believe the entire month (and most of November) has past. Period.

This time of year seems to pick up serious speed. I wonder if I would get Christmas shopping done early if the Oct.-Dec. time period would slow down a bit.

Since I don't see me actually getting Christmas shopping done before December 24th, I probably will never know the answer to that question. Oh, well.

My reconstruction surgery is scheduled for December 17th...so I guess I'd better start figuring Christmas out a little sooner rather than later. I don't think my kids will be that thrilled if I tell them my new boobs are their Christmas present this year too. I can see how well that conversation would go over... ;)

Here are some catch up topics I wanted to touch on that have gone through my head at least twice these past couple of months:

First, I want it on record that I personally think the health care issue thing about not getting mammograms until age 50 is retarded. If I had waited that long I would be looking into mastectomy, chemo, the works. There has to be a happy medium for the higher-ups. Or they need to put a woman on their panel. Either way is good. Enough said.

Second, Montana is a lovely State. We went there last weekend for my nephew's non-farewell and non-open house. He entered the MTC this past Wednesday and will be going to Costa Rica. He is excited. Great kid.

I thought that I would freeze in Montana in November, but actually Utah right now is colder than Montana.

Third, I could go my whole life and not have to spend an aimless hour and a half driving around Idaho Falls again. Been there, done that. On the way home from Montana we stopped at the Walmart in I.F. and bought a fuse for the converter thingy (yes, that is the technical term) to the power do-hickey (not the technical term, but it should be) so that the kids could continue watching movies on the way home from our trip and the parents could maintain some semblance of normalcy. Then we found out that Wendy's closes early in IF. And we drove around looking for another fast food place. Seriously took waaayy longer than it should have. And it put is home at 2 a.m. instead of midnight like we had planned.

Fourth, have you ever looked back at what you had or didn't have your kids involved in and wondered where you went off track? I remember when I first got married and though about having kids, I pictured my daughters all taking dance and playing soccer (I took dance from the time I was 3 until I was 16...and I've played--and still play--soccer forever), and my sons would be involved with baseball and soccer (husband is the baseball guy, and again me with the soccer). I also thought my kids would love horses just because I do--having owned horses and having been able to ride since I was 3, and because my husband also had a horse growing up).

I know those aren't huge problem type issues, but I really pictured those things being part of our lives. Soccer is, so I guess you can see where my real priorities have been. But my kids have never taken a dance lesson, my older son played 2 years of baseball and that is all, my youngest hasn't ever played; my oldest daughter is actually afraid of horses--which is actually what shocked me into this direction of thought. Some of my most fun times were with horses. My first date with my husband was me taking him riding through Snow Canyon when we were both at Dixie College. I feel like I've cheated them out of something. I'm sure they don't mind at this point, but when I was first married I would never have thought that 18 years later I wouldn't have dancing baseball playing kids.

I'll get over it eventually. It is just such a weird thing to me.

Fifth, have you noticed that you look better in some mirrors than others? Maybe it is just me--okay, most definitely it is just me, but still...--It might be the lighting, it might be the actual mirror itself, but some mirrors I look at myself and think "Huh. Not too shabby today", others I have an almost uncontrollable urge to give myself the wink and the gun, and then the evil mirrors that make me look like a 41 year-old housewife (oh, wait...that's what I am....dang). I was thinking that if I could figure out what makes the wink and the gun mirror work the way it does, and then make that work the same way in a camera--I'd be set for life. Because honestly, even if I pass a wink and gun mirror and then get my picture taken...photo ends up looking like I got ready in front of evil mirror. Why can't someone invent a camera that REMOVES 10 pounds instead of adding it?

Sixth, here is another thing I have always found myself doing. I want to decorate my house more. I want nice paintings, etc. So I go look at home decor places or boutiques and look around. And I see a lot of things that I could totally do equally well if not better (in my humble opinion), so I don't buy any of the paintings, etc. But the key here is that I don't actually go home and make them myself. So just because I CAN do something better, doesn't usually (ever) mean that I will actually DO the thing. So my house isn't decorated like I'd hope because I'm too vain to buy something I think I can do better, and yet also too lazy to just get off my backside and do it. Which is an annoying trait to realize I have. And it is even more annoying to know the odds of my getting over the trait is slim to none.

Seventh, I decided I'm already not looking forward to January and New Year's Resolutions. Just so you know.

Eighth, I think that people who dread being called to serve in the church nursery either haven't actually been in the nursery before, or they are not seeing the great potential that is there. I mean seriously. How bad can a calling be when you have the parents take care of any diaper issues, you take kids to their parents if they are being overly upset that day--both of which means that you really only get to have the good part of playing with little kids--happy and dry and non-stinky--and you get to sing songs, play with toys, color, and--hello--eat snacks. C'mon. Seriously. It is a primo church calling.

I am not in nursery right at the moment. I am in YW. Not a bad gig either, but 16 and 17 year old girls tend to frown on their adult leaders breaking out into 'Once There Was a Snowman'. I have found they are fine with being offered mini-marshmallows or goldfish crackers though. :)

Ninth, what is hotter? A man in a tux, a man in a military/police/firefighter uniform, or a man giving out free chocolate. Not just any chocolate...but your very favorite kind? Just wondering.

Tenth, there are a few videos/movie lines etc. that can make me laugh just thinking about those particular scenes. Some like in the movie 'Night Shift'--that I can't actually see again since I've given up on 'R' rated movies, but it is still one of my favorite comedies of all time--when Michael Keaton's character yells "I'll save you Chuck!" and belly flops off the balcony. (You had to be there). I like things that make me laugh. I've shared these two things before, but I figure if you've read through this far you deserve a little humor too. The first is a link to one of my all-time favorite Barats & Bereta clips from YouTube and the second is the German Coastguard thing that cracks me up when I remember the punch line. So enjoy.

And thanks for putting up with 10 rambling topics. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bn1-M5Ze0p8

Update on Me

2009-09-28T11:48:00.000-07:00

It is official.

I no longer have cancer.

I'm not done with reconstruction...but the cancer has been removed completely with something as "simple" as a mastectomy.

I had it a little easier than some. I won't need radiation or chemo. All the test results came back that they got all of the cancer and it had not spread or moved into lymph nodes.

Everything moved so quickly from getting the mammogram to having the surgery--July 23rd was the mammogram, Aug. 26th was mastectomy surgery--that it has taken awhile to really sink in that I just kicked cancer's butt.

I have learned a few things through all this.

One: I have pretty fantastic friends and family and neighbors. Everyone has been supremely supportive and helpful. I have been given the luxury of not having to worry about my youngest kids after school or dinners for my family for the three weeks following surgery because of volunteers who wanted to help.

It is actually pretty humbling to see everyone around so willing to serve and go out of their way so that I can get back to normal as soon as I can. There really isn't anything more surprising to me than people actually saying yes when asked if they can watch three 5 year-olds for 3 hours after they get home from kindergarten. And to top it off, they have actually said nice things about my kids after the fact. So either my kids were on best behavior or my neighbors are fabulous liars. :) Either way, I will forever be grateful to everyone and am going to be permanently put on the list on helping anyone else in need in the future. I am looking forward to being on the other end of the service thing.

Two: I have a pretty fantastic community too. School teachers making sure my kids are dealing okay with everything. School administrators letting me get a parking pass for my daughter at the high school even though she is a junior and passes are for seniors, just so she can be mobile during my recovery and better able to help me out. The list is longer, but you get the idea...there are genuinely nice people in this world.

Three: I still really need to work on showing gratitude. My whole life I have had a hard time showing excitement about anything. At birthdays, Christmas, baby showers, etc. I have had to psych myself up to force a cheerful expression. On the inside I can be happy and grateful, but I've always had trouble showing it on the outside. So I tend to come across as not very grateful or excited, which is usually far from the truth. Which probably makes all of the above mentioned genuinely nice people maybe not quite as thrilled about giving me service. It is hard to serve people who give the impression of maybe thinking that service is somehow 'owed' to them. Which is how I am afraid I come across sometimes...although that is far from how I actually feel.

Well, that was depressing enough.

I just want to thank everyone who has asked about me, prayed for me, thought about me, helped me. Even if I haven't demonstrated sufficiently enough, I am grateful. You have all cheered me up, eased my mind, and helped me in more ways that I can count.

For a physical update on me, I am almost done with the tissue expanding part of my reconstruction. My surgery to complete all this is scheduled for December 17th--mainly because I really want to get it done before the end of the year so I don't have to cough up the insurance deductible again--but also because it will make it easier for family to shop for me for Christmas :) I'm getting new boobs for Christmas so I've got bras and shirts on my list. :)

The feeling is coming back in my chest--the nerves are healing and putting themselves back together--which means that I actually have more pain at the moment after each tissue expanding appointment than I did after the mastectomy surgery. Which is unpleasant. But I should only have one or two more of those appointments left since I am close to the size I am shooting for.

Everything seems to be going well. No more cancer and a bra size I never in a million years would have thought I would wear without dr. assistance--and since that wasn't ever happening as an elective surgery (I'm not a fan of pain, even for vanity), I'm perfectly fine with this being my 'silver lining'. If I had to get cancer, at least I get a bigger chest out of it. :) I do wish my nerves decided to take longer to heal so that I couldn't feel this expansion thing quite so well, but I can't have everything.

So thanks to you all for your thoughts and prayers. They were felt and needed. And even if I don't look it on the outside, on the inside I am filled to the brim with gratitude and appreciation for you.

Why Women Need Mammograms

2009-08-20T14:08:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are on facebook and are a friend of mine there, remember that status I put for myself at the end of July when I mentioned getting a mammogram?

Women don't want to get them because they hear all the stories about how it squishes the heck out of your chest (it isn't pleasant), or they don't want to bother with them because it will take too much time (for the record, from the moment I walked in the front door to the minute I walked out only 30 minutes had past...that isn't a lot of time).

Well, funny thing, mammograms...

They actually find cancer sometimes.

Which is what happened with me.

Kind of a bummer to go to your very first mammogram and find cancer. I went in because A. I'm over 40 now and I figured I should go, B. My maternal grandmother had breast cancer, so it made me paranoid since I'm in that over-40 age category, and C. I had a gland under my left arm that was bugging me, so since I was already paranoid, I figured I would go make sure that wasn't something to worry about.

It wasn't.

The Breast Care Center folks called me back after a few days and told me that they had found something on the right side that they needed me to come back in to have another mammogram and an ultrasound to check.

Being the genius I am, I did ask "Are you sure it isn't on the left side?" Like they wouldn't know how to read the charts....but my left side was the one that was bugging me, so I had to ask. Right?

I went back in for a 2nd mammogram and ultrasound. This time the radiologist checked the results immediately and I was then scheduled to come back in for a biopsy. They needed to check two areas--one that looked like calcium deposits, and one that was a dark mass.

The dark mass turned out to be just a benign lump of nothing.

The calcium deposit looking thing turned out to be a "Ductal Carcinoma in Situ" or DCIS. You can go here to read about what that means exactly if you want.

Basically it means that I have the very beginning stage of breast cancer in my right breast. So early that it would have been at least 3 years before I felt anything, so I am also textbook as to why women should get mammograms even when they don't think there is a problem.

Treatment for this is a lumpectomy and radiation. Being the worrier I am, however, I have opted instead to have that breast removed. So I will be going in for a mastectomy on Wed. Aug. 26th. Not a double, like I was also seriously considering. I will wait and if anything ever shows up on that other side I'll have that taken care of at that time.

I wanted them both taken when I was still in panic mode. But I know that right now my left side has no cancer, so I've dialed back the panic and will just go into it a bit slower.

Two good things come out of having a mastectomy....1. I won't need radiation with the whole breast gone, and 2. my insurance covers reconstruction when it is cancer caused, so I get to upgrade my chest size. :)

Silver linings and all that, right?

I've also pulled the "cancer card" a couple of times, and people are pretty darn sympathetic--which is nice when you are trying to get dentist appointments for a child before I go have surgery. They have no room for another appointment, but when I say "Oh, Thursday won't work because I'm going in on Wednesday for cancer surgery" they seem to be more than happy to work something out.

(I felt a bit bad about using the cancer card on that one, but I hadn't tried it yet at that point and was a bit amazed at the immediate sympathy I was able to garner on that one )

Besides getting to have a bigger bra size out of this whole fiasco, the other thing I am looking forward to is getting and wearing this t-shirt:

I keep thinking that because I have an "easy" type of breast cancer, that I don't really get to put myself in the category with all the other women in the world who haven't been as lucky and have to go through so much more than just a surgery or two. I don't need chemo, and since I'm opting for mastectomy I don't need radiation...so I don't think of what I'm doing as "fighting" cancer. I have to remind myself that yes, I do have cancer..and yes, when I have it removed from my body I will have fought it and it will hopefully not return and I will be a cancer survivor.

So this shirt, while it made me laugh...also reminds me that what I have could kill me. And probably would have if I had waited on the mammogram until I felt something worrisome in that breast. Or at least it would have been a longer, harder fight.

Not to be melodramatic--I don't like to do drama--I really do hope that if you are a woman reading this who hasn't had a mammogram yet...or who hasn't had one for a long time, that you will make an appointment and just get it done. Or if you are a husband of a woman who is 40 or older, encourage your wife to go in and have a mammogram.

Peace of mind is worth a little squishing and some of your time.

Writing it All Down So I Don't Have To Become a Scrapblogger

2009-07-22T19:46:00.000-07:00

You know, when you aren't blogging like a scrapbook of your life but are trying to just write about random ponderings that have entered your head at any given time, you can have long dry-spells between entries.

I haven't mastered the skill of writing down thoughts to blog about as they come to me. I drive down the road and have a couple of dozen "great" blog ideas come to me, but by the time I get home...nothing.

Or worse, I get the idea for a decent blog and sit down at the computer to get it all typed up--I even get the first couple of paragraphs and I can feel my head jumping ahead certain directions as I type that I am hoping my fingers can keep up with--and then kids come in either screaming, fighting, or bleeding (or any mix of those three), and by the time I turn back to the computer the idea is completely gone. Zip. My brain is shockingly blank.

When that latter one happens I usually keep muddling through hoping for a new grip on my previous brainstorm.

What usually results from that muddling is about 75% of what you read here on my blog. Rambling, miscellaneous quotations, and usually a lot of head-scratching "what-is-she-talking-about?" type bogging.

I have 4 unfinished blog entries waiting in my "Edit Posts" area for me to get a clue and hammer them out.

THIS blog entry will probably have 67 re-writes and will still make no sense, but what the heck?

[Not that you would know it reading this after I've put it all together, but I just got sidetracked with a little yogurt mishap and my 4 year-old. All is well now--and as a bonus the room now smells like strawberries... What was I talking about?...oh, yeah...]

Sometimes I think it would be easier to blog like a scrapbooker/scrapblogger type, but then I remember that I don't really have a life either and would be stuck with just as much material to write about that way so I might as well stick to what I know. Or what I do anyway, since I can't always claim 100% knowledge on any given topic that I've spouted off about.

I also don't have fun or interesting photos to help my scrapblogging.

And what the heck, let's go for broke: I don't LIKE scrapblogging. But I do enjoy rambling masses of confusion.

I suppose all this means is that I either need to start writing down topics of discussion for my blog when I get a half-way decent idea, or I continue on as always.

You all know me well enough to know which way I'll go with that one.

And do you know what? I'm okay with being that predictable. Better to be predictable than me forcing you to all look at photos and read about saccharine stories of my perfect children or tell you about the results of my latest dentist appointment, right? :)

[What was I talking about? I started laughing about the perfect children thing and my mind blanked again....Ya...Nope, I've got nuthin'...]

Career Choices and Growing Up

2009-06-29T10:30:00.000-07:00

My teen aged daughters are getting to the age where adult pressures are starting to work their way into their lives.

They are being asked frequently by friends, neighbors, & teachers the dreaded question of "What are you going to be when you grow up?"

Since I still don't know the answer to that same question, I've been interested in watching my girls' thought processes as they work on their own personal answers.

When first asked that question, my oldest daughter told her friend that she plans on marrying a rich guy who will let her stay home and go shopping. Since the friend who asked her that question was of the male variety, he was a bit offended at her attitude and asked other pertinent questions like, "What will you do if he dies? Or if he loses his job so you have to help support the family?...etc."

That actually helped get her thinking back to reality and she has since decided that she wants to be a middle-school p.e. teacher.

I'm not sure how she made the leap from 'kept woman' to 'gym teacher', but it works.

My 5 year old daughter, when asked about her future she said "When I grow up, I'm going to be a woman. And I'm going to marry a man who always says 'Yes'."

I guess she liked my oldest daughter's first "career" choice.

In thinking about careers and how one decides what direction to take on that path of life, I thought of some jobs that I wouldn't mind having...and a few I would absolutely hate.

Everyone knows that a meteorologist on the news would be a fairly low-stress job. You study the weather, you make your predictions based on the years of knowledge you gained at school, and then when it snows after you promised sunny skies your job is still secure because you are dealing with 'Mother Nature' and not an exact science. In other words, you can be horribly wrong and still keep your job.

I could totally love a job like that.

What people might not know is that being something like a comedian would be really hard. Sure, to your friends you are funny. Your co-workers laugh hard enough to do spit-takes during lunch breaks at something you say. You even find yourself thinking funny things more often than not, and trying not to suddenly laugh out loud at something that struck your fancy.

But think about it. A professional comedian is always expected to be hilarious. Someone says they are a comic for a living and the person they are introduced to says "Really? Say something funny."

Talk about pressure.

Or they are on stage at a comedy club and the crowd that night just doesn't 'get it'. The best joke in his repertoire gets blank stares or courtesy laughter when two days before in Des Moines that same joke brought down the house.

Even a meteorologist can be funny in his delivery of the weather, but he doesn't get hecklers insulting his mother because his 30% chance of showers ended up being more like a 30% chance that you won't have your basement flooded in the deluge of water pouring from the skies.

I know my examples are cliche.

Everyone makes jokes about meteorologists and their uncanny ability to get the weather wrong. Those same jokesters also think that being a comedian would be an easy job--sleep late, think funny things all day, get paid to stand on a stage and make people laugh at the stupid things your brain came up with that day.

I suppose I should have picked two more obscure occupations to blog about and avoided the cliches...

But I was feeling cliche-like today, so I'm going with what works for me. :)

I'm glad my oldest daughter decided on a career to focus on. She is already a giant step ahead of me in that sense.

My kids are growing up with focus and direction. I am realizing THEY were my focus and direction, and now I need to do some growing up too.

I hate that.

I have put off deciding what I want to be when I grow up until the very last possible moment.

If I could get a job as a professional procrastinator, I would be their most excellent employee.

Until that "dream job" opens up, I guess I will figure out what I like to do and go from there.

Maybe it isn't too late to grow up to just be a woman...and teach Doug to always say "Yes". :)

(Right...and maybe the weather guy will hit 100% accuracy on his forecasts this year...)

Tristi's July Writing Challenge

2009-06-25T20:46:00.000-07:00

Tristi Pinkston--author extraordinaire and all-around fun gal--has posted a writing challenge on her blog for the month of July. Check out her blog here and see what I'm talking about.

I have accepted her challenge and have decided that my goal for July will be to write every single day--without fail--except for the week I spend at YW girls camp. During which time I will be at least THINKING of what I want to be writing...and perhaps even scribbling out notes and plot twists on the backs of paper plates.

During the month of July I will be posting on my blog about my progress. I won't necessarily count that as my writing for the day though unless it is more than just a simple blog entry. You'll see what I mean when I get to that point.

When you check out the details of Tristi's challenge, look to the link on the right of her page and go browse her regular blog. You'll be glad you did. :)

Kady

2009-06-18T10:28:00.000-07:00

My oldest daughter has now been 16 years old for 5 whole months. These are a couple of photos of her:

She hasn't been on a date yet, and while that is just fine with me I think it is starting to bother her a bit.

Luckily she isn't thinking "What is wrong with me?" but rather, "What is wrong with these dang boys? Are they afraid of me? Do they think I will laugh at them if they suggest going out?"

She can be a bit intimidating to boys, so I vote for her response too.

I do have to admit that she was sort of asked out on a date last week but couldn't find anyone to double-date with so she had to cancel. (That is a rule here...no single dating until she is 18...and I didn't even have to say anything to her about it. She just took care of it with no argument--shocking, huh?).

When I asked her if she called a particular good friend of hers to see if she could find a date and double with her, she looked at me like I was insane. "NO!" I asked her why not, and she replied that she is too good of friends with her and would probably end up spending most of the date chatting with her girlfriend instead of her date.

(Again, I see nothing wrong with that...but what do I know?)

When I told her that the idea of going out with a group of people you like is in part to help you if your date ends up being horrible--at least your friends would help salvage a decent time--she just sighed and said "I'm not looking for great advice from you."

Note: She did actually notice that it was great advice. From me. Her mother. The one human that most teenagers pretend to not know and are sure have no common sense. I'm writing that down here for all to see.. :)

A lot of boys like my daughter. She, unfortunately, is a practiced flirt and quite fickle. So I don't think any of the boys believe that she really likes them enough to say yes if they were to ask her out.

The advice I give her on that one is not listened to very well. (NOT a shocker)

Have you noticed that as an adult giving opinion and advice and telling stories of your own teenage years to your kids, that because you have the 20/20 hindsight your advice is brilliant and your stories make you sound like you actually had a clue as a teenager?

I don't tell many stories about my flirting gone bad. Or about when I didn't listen to my mom's advice. Or anything that I might have done at their age that I would ground them for life for if they did it themselves...

The stories I tell are more like how to act really well when you see the dumbest movie in your life and your date goes on and on about how great it was...He paid for it. It was free to you and only killed half your brain cells and took up two hours of your life that you will never get back, so suck it up and pretend you enjoyed it a little.

Or, if you ever go to a batting cage with a date and you know you can hit the fast pitch balls...but your date is struggling and not hitting any and it is making him upset because his idea to be all manly in front of you isn't working out--don't hit the fast pitch balls either. Trust me. It will only end in tears. Unless of course you never want to date that guy again. Then, by all means...smack the heck out of the ball and watch a boy cry.

I also give great dating hints like, always have at least $20 with you in case your date runs out of money--or in case you mix signals and end up being on a dutch-treat date and didn't know it until he pays for himself and then stands aside to let you pay. (Usually with this type of date, I'd be seriously looking for the batting cages....)

Another less popular hint is that if you are having a really awful time, your mom is always more than happy to get a call from you and come pick you up. Not sure if she would take that advice, but one can hope. And she knows the offer is always out there. And if it is a REALLY bad date, her dad is even MORE happy to go rescue her.

So she has that going for her. Even if right now she might not see it as a good thing.

I hope I have told her enough of my lame-date stories that she realizes that sometimes not dating is better than dating a jerk. I might have to pull out some of my better (worse) dating stories to share with her if she starts questioning herself instead of the boys.

For now, I will just enjoy the time before she starts dating. Enjoy the slow progression of gray hair instead of the influx of gray that I am sure will come when I add "Kady dating" to my list of worries. Enjoy having her think I have a clue when I dole out unsolicited dating advice. Enjoy spending time with her before it starts getting taken up more and more with friends and boys as she experiences life.

And until she starts dating, I think I'll take her over to the batting cages and teach her how to hit a fast-ball.

It's All About Me

2009-06-04T19:18:00.000-07:00

I know my previous post says 'it is all about love', but I've changed my mind.

It has come to my attention that I am not only shallow--as per described in an even more previous post--but I am also fairly certain that everything is all about me.

When something like this comes to ones attention, it isn't actually a positive and uplifting moment in time. It is unpleasant, really.

I won't mention the specifics of this particular epiphany.

I will only give 'lovely' examples of my world as I see it and why it is all about ME. I will start out easy so that you can see the natural progression of my thinking:

1. When I finally have a 5 year old who is a good soccer player--i.e. doesn't watch butterflies and only look forward to the halftime treats, but wants to play soccer and KICK the ball...and doesn't have to ease into the sport and only get good at the age of twelve...or older--I take full credit. My kid has inherited a love of this sport and is actually good. Must be my doing. Can't be because he has watched his older siblings play and is good on his own merit. Nope. It is because I love soccer so much so I have at least osmosised (is that a word?) the love into his little, learning and growing body.

2. When the Relief Society president gets up and complains (well, 'constructively criticizes' since RS presidents are all good at talking sweetly even in reprimand--which is probably why I only lasted a year in that particular calling because I couldn't master the removal of my foot from my mouth...but that is another story all about me that I won't get into here...) that "we" haven't done our visiting teaching and our numbers are down, I don't think to myself that our ward is at 30% for visiting teaching so a lot of ladies are slacking off on that particular job. I think she is speaking directly at me. It is my world after all. She is just making is sound like everyone is a slacker too so that I don't get offended and leave the church forever just because I don't like bugging the women in my ward on a monthly basis on purpose. Bugging them accidentally on a weekly basis every Sunday is more my style.

I don't think you get style points in heaven. So I might need to adjust that thinking....

3. When a family member has regrets about a life choice, I don't think to myself that I wish they had made a different choice. I wonder what I did to cause them to make that choice in the first place. What could I have done differently to make their life happier? I'm sure I am the cause of all their displeasure and pain.

I know. I should seek professional help. Expand my world to include other people's worlds. Embrace the fact that some (most) of the time it really isn't all about me. Sometimes [gasp] it has absolutely nothing at all to do with me.

Shocking.

If I could learn that, I think I would probably be a better listener.

(What?)

I don't think I could empathize better, because right now I empathize so much that I make it personal. So really I should probably learn to empathize less.

I could--maybe...if I try really hard--try to do things strictly because I know they will be helpful to someone else, and not because it will benefit me in any way.

Now that I have rambled this far, I have realized that I can't call this revelation an epiphany. Doesn't an epiphany imply that I have discovered something and it is life changing? I'm not really planning on this being a springboard for change.

In a perfect world I wouldn't need to change. In a semi-perfect world I would see the need for change and try to accomplish that task. In MY world I see the need, weigh the pros and cons of making any kind of effort and then I probably make a few better choices and still keep the status quo for bad choices.

On a good note for anyone who wishes, feel free to blame me for any time your mouth has worked before your brain could stop you. It is all about me so I know that if I had been around, my great capacity for speaking before thinking would probably have been transferred to you anyway...so I'll just expand my influence and take up that slack for you. Nice of me, huh?

It might be all about me, and you all might just be visiting my world...but no one can say I haven't been an okay hostess. Usually. Sometimes. Okay, whenever I make an effort.

Thanks for putting up with me. :)

"It's About...Love"

2009-05-14T18:09:00.000-07:00

I have mentioned my lovely family in my posts.

I usually throw in the caveat that two of my kids were adopted when I mention that I have seven children--not because they are different or not as much a part of my family, but probably because in this day and age when one says they have seven kids you get a lot of shocked looks. So I think I am sort of apologizing for having more than the 2.3 kids that is the 'norm'.

I shouldn't do that.

I don't love my adopted children any less than my biological children.

I'm really going to have to start being more proud of the fact that I have 7 kids. I adopted two...so it isn't like they were a surprise. :)

[I've been writing this post over a few weeks, tweaking it here and there, and I just wanted to pop in a quick story here that happened at kindergarten open house last week. I had this topic on my mind, so when I checked my 3 littles in, the lady asked if the two were twins. I simply said "No." And she waited. And waited. And waited. I finally rolled my eyes and said that one was adopted, and then the woman was fine and moved on. But it bugged me that I had to clarify. Maybe my answer from now on will just be "Yes."...]

I do wish that I had a wonderful, warm-fuzzy story about their entry into our family though.

You know what I mean...everyone has heard the touching stories about how a family went through the adoption process and had grandiose spiritual experiences that solidified the fact that their children were meant to be with them.

Sometimes those stories are so fantastic and tear-jerk worthy that I am sure that for a few seconds in time I can hear the violin playing in the background and hosts of heavenly angels singing the Hallelujah chorus....

That didn't happen with us.

That doesn't mean my two additions weren't meant for my family.

We genuinely wanted them. We got into adoption on purpose. We were foster parents to two other separate placements before we were able to bring these two siblings into our home.

So let me break a couple of myths that people tend to think about fostering and adoption.

First, fostering isn't a horrible thing. Even when you take in children and love them and get them in a home that finally gives them structure and stability, only to know that they will be returning to the chaos that they called home before they lived with you.

You know that for the short time they are with you, you will be giving them what they desperately need. And also during that time you know that their parent (usually just one parent) is trying to get his or her life back together enough to be able to get their child--who they really do love, even if their life choices don't seem to reflect that--back with them.

In my mind, I always switch places with the birth parent. If I were in their situation and had my child taken into State custody, I would want to have every opportunity to work to get my child back. It only makes sense that reunification is a State's first priority.

That said, when I took in foster children I never gave my whole heart to loving them. I was more like a caregiver who loved them as much as I knew my heart could take if they went back to their birth family.

After two placements being returned, I had shut down a little more of my heart by the time we had our two placed with us.

By the time we realized that our situation was going to become permanent, it wasn't a big 'a-ha' moment. It had evolved into something more like instead of 'knowing' they were meant to be with us, we knew it would just simply feel wrong if they left.

That is a different feeling, even though it might sound redundant.

I think it just took me awhile to let go of the clamp I had cinched around my heart that was protecting me from the 'just in case they go back' thought.

The second myth is that all foster kids have issues.

A lot of them do. You would too if your parents were on meth and cared more about their next 'hit' than feeding you. Or protecting you. Or keeping you clean.

But honestly, I know more kids with "issues" who aren't adopted, than those who are.

That's the thing with agency. Everyone chooses their own actions and regardless of your familial status, you might choose right or you might choose wrong.

I think every kid has caused some grey hairs on their parents' heads.

It isn't fair to blame it on the biological link. As if they would have been perfect if they had been the fruit of your own personal loins.

Right.

At least with foster kids you have an idea as to WHY they are acting and reacting the way they do. That makes it easier to help them, or to get help for them. A lot of parents with biological kids with issues go so long in a state of denial that by the time they realize that maybe they should step in and do something, they have a lot of sifting to go through to pinpoint the method of assistance that would benefit everyone the most.

(I'm trying really hard to not point fingers...in my experience, the second you point out someone's poor parenting skills you have a child that suddenly gloms onto that and decides to take that exact poor parenting example and magnify it tenfold.)

Third, remember that what you hear in the news about adoption or foster care that is negative is the extreme. It doesn't make the news unless it is shocking or dramatic. For every case of neglectful foster parents who chain their foster kids to their beds, there are thousands of fantastic foster parents.

As a matter of fact, even if you have never in your life considered fostering children or teens, I highly recommend everyone who has kids or who deals with kids to take the foster parenting classes. They teach you how to be parents. They teach you to understand why your child acts a certain way--foster, adopted, biological...it doesn't matter. Some things are universal. And the foster care system has developed a fabulous course to help adults be, well, adults.

For example, I learned more about the world a 4-6 year old lives in. If you see your 4 year old break your lamp and you ask "Did you break that lamp??" and they say "No." They aren't lying to you. Honest. They are telling you the answer they want to have in their world. In their world, they didn't break the lamp. So where I might have been mad that they broke the lamp and then mad again when I thought they were lying to me--"Helloooo...I just SAW you break it"--really I should have asked, "Why did you break that lamp?" Or send myself to timeout until I can deal with a 4 year old and a broken lamp with some level of maturity since last time I checked, I was the adult. Mostly.

So there you go. My ramble on foster parenting, adoption, and things I've learned in that whole process.

We are truly blessed to have all seven of our children.

When people hear we were foster parents and that we adopted two from the foster care system, I hear too often responses such as "Those kids are lucky to have you."

The truth of the matter is that we are the lucky ones.

I might not have had a burning flame of confirmation that our two we adopted were somehow pre-ordained to be in our home, but the gaping hole I am sure we would feel if they weren't here is confirmation enough.

May Writing Challenge

2009-05-10T23:00:00.000-07:00

Christine Bryant has issued a May writing challenge to those of us in A.I.

In a moment of weakness--and knowing that I should take every advantage to write--I agreed to her challenge this month, and the following is the result. The challenge is to write about a woman that has influenced our lives in some way--the key being that it cannot be my mother, so don't feel bad, Mom, when you read this and it isn't about you. :)

Now, before I begin my challenge piece let me just say that 'challenge' has been the key word for me on this one. As I have admitted freely in previous posts, I am basically a shallow person. I thought about a lot of different women in history, in the Bible, in my neighborhood...and realized I don't often think hard enough about anyone to have them effect me in any way that hits me hard enough to stand out.

I had to be a bigger person than that, right? I thought harder, and vague visions of past women in my life floated just out of reach for my head to wrap around any one person in particular who could stand out as having an impact on my life.

Then I made the mistake of reading Christine's own entry on her blog, and that threw my thinking in all sorts of different directions.

But the following story began to stick out a little bit more and a little bit more. And while I'm not 100% positive it fits the May writing challenge criteria, it is a decent story about a great female. One who I hope to grow up to be like someday.

To a missionary new in the field, if you are waiting for your visa you aren't always excited to be somewhere else. You aren't supposed to be spending three months in the States, you are supposed to be immersed in the country you were called to serve in. But sometimes the Lord has different ideas. Sometimes a short stay in the Ft. Lauderdale, Florida mission ends up being a time for growth and learning that you couldn't have developed anywhere else.

What Hollywood, Florida did for me was teach me through the simple choices of an investigator what true sacrifice is.

Carola Davis was only twelve years old. She and her parents had been taking the missionary discussions for a few months. They lived in a poor area in town, in a simple duplex. They loved my companion, who had met them tracting--going door to door in their neighborhood. They first tolerated and then accepted me, and we had many visits with them to help them overcome some issues, such as a 20+ year smoking habit of Carola's father.

Carola wanted to be baptized. Her mother and father wanted to be baptized. They had done everything that had been asked of them to take that next step, except attend a church meeting. Every week we would invite them to church, and every week something would 'come up' that made it impossible for them to attend.

During these visits we talked with Carola and she would tell us how she is doing in school and with her friends. She talked on and on about an upcoming band trip her class was taking. She had been selling candy door-to-door and had finally raised enough money to pay for her bus ride with her school. She was thrilled, and we were excited for her.

Before leaving her house, we asked her family again if they would like to attend church services with us the following Sunday. They knew that it was the last requirement they needed to take in order to finally be ready for baptism, but with reluctance they once again told us no.

Not having a ready excuse this time though, Carola's mother finally admitted that the reason for not being able to attend church was that they didn't have any good shoes to wear to church.

It surprised both my companion and myself enough that we had no immediate response except to say that we were sure everything would work out, and that we would do what we could to help them.

That Sunday morning just before leaving for church, my companion and I received a phone call from Carola's mom asking us for directions to the church and to double check on the time. We told them we would wait on the front steps of the church for them and introduce them to the bishop and show them around.

When they finally arrived we could see all three of them wearing brand new shiny church shoes. All three had matching smiles and such a great spirit about them.

My companion and I complimented their new shoes and Carola's mother hugged her daughter to her and told us with tears in her eyes, that Carola had heard her excuse for why they had been refusing to come to church. She had then immediately gone to her room after we had left that night and had brought her mother the money she had earned to pay for the school trip.

Carola told her mom that it was more important for her to see her family baptized and able to become sealed in the temple for eternity than to go on a trip with her classmates.

Two weeks later, the family was baptized.

Carola's example--even twenty years later--has stayed with me. I don't know if I would have sacrificed what she had when I was twelve years old. I would like to think I would have done the same thing, but I remember that age being one of self-import.

It has stayed with me enough to help me prioritize what is really important in my life.

It influence my decisions because it taught me to look at decisions in a bigger scope.

Will my decision help other people? Or will it only effect my life?

Is it a worldly desire? Or a decision that will have cause and effect forever?

A twelve year old girl.

You never know who is going to have an impact on your life. I never would have dreamed that I could learn so much from someone so young. But I did. And I will forever be grateful to her for the example she set for me.

'What if's' in April

2009-04-16T11:00:00.000-07:00

Have you ever looked back on your life and wondered what it would be like now if you had married someone else? Seen the life of one of your old boyfriends and pictured yourself in that situation instead of the one you are in now?

No?

Must just be me.

My husband and I went through bins and bins of scrapbook stuff (took 5 bins down to 2 with all the crap I ended up throwing away and wondering what in the heck I was thinking when I saved it in the first place...), but we saw old photos of ex's....some of his old girlfriends, some of my old boyfriends. And I wondered.

I think I would have driven a lesser man completely insane by now.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Doug is the only guy that could have put up with my idiosyncrasies for this long without killing me--or divorcing me, or at least kicking me in the shin really, really hard.

I hear about what some of my ex-boyfriends lives are like now and think they really got off easy when I made them break up with me. ;) The wives they have now are exactly right for them.

I hear about some of Doug's ex-girlfriends and wonder if he would have been happier with someone with more emotion, better conversation, and a bigger set of...um...mammories.

To his credit, he hasn't complained. (Not even about that last item... ;) )

I'd like to think I have him snowed into thinking I was his absolute best choice. I mean seriously... After reading my previous post about all my talents who wouldn't want to be married to me? The pie I make alone would be enough to convince a man to take a chance on marrying me.

Doug and I both dated a lot of people before we got married. So it isn't like we were scraping the bottom of the dating barrel and decided that we'd better just get married because nothing better was coming along....just to clarify.

We had options.

We ended up preferring each other over everyone else.

Nothing wrong with that.

But I still wonder how it could have turned out differently.

If I hadn't worked for a year after high school before going to college I wouldn't have met him.

If he hadn't had a freak baseball accident in the 8th grade that hurt his vision in one eye, he might have joined the Air Force (he wanted to be a pilot) and I wouldn't have met him.

If I hadn't held up my bargain with Doug's cousin Jason about bringing Portuguese socks back for him from my mission--thus having Doug find out I'd returned home after I dropped them off at his uncle's house--we might not have crossed paths again.

Heck, if the girl he started dating seriously while I was on my mission had chosen to stay home and get married instead of going on a mission herself...he might have married before I got home and reminded him that I was his best option. :)

If, if, if. Lots of ifs in this world. But they all worked out exactly the right way to make it possible for Doug and I to meet and fall in love and get married.

I guess in this rambling I just wanted to vocalize on the 'what-if's'. And in doing this I realized that whether he is thrilled about it or not, I'm glad I married Doug and that he has put up with me for this many years.

Some days I'm sure I exasperate the heck out of him.

Turn about is fair play, after all... (did I 'say' that out loud?)

But that's the fun. Keeps him on his toes :)

This is an old photo of Doug and me in the summer of 1989. We dated until I left on my mission in October of that year.

This is Doug and me on our wedding day. I thought about posting a photo from our photo album instead of this snapshot, but the photo album photos are too detailed--made me realize that I have a huge head. Just like the kid on 'So I Married an Axe Murderer'...

"Look at the size of that boy's heed... I'm not kidding, it's like an orange on a toothpick...Well, that's a huge noggin. That's a virtual planetoid. ...Has it's own weather system....I'm not kidding, that boy's head is like Sputnik; spherical but quite pointy at parts! Now that was offside, wasn't it? He'll be crying himself to sleep tonight, on his huge pillow. "

But again, I ramble myself into a nice digress....

All I'm saying is that even when looking through old scrapbook photos and pondering lightly on the 'what if's' while listening to Little Texas sing 'What Might Have Been', (which is why I added a playlist today so that you can all get the "mood"..) I'm glad things turned out the way they did in my life and that my husband is my husband and my ex's are my ex's...

And I'm pretty sure everyone involved feels the same way. :)

Positive Talents

2009-03-23T09:50:00.001-07:00

I have decided that I would like to dedicate just one blog entry on things I think I do well. I keep writing blogs about my bad habits and keep admitting to things that normal people would try to keep to themselves...like my previous post on how great I am at procrastinating.

I don't count procrastination as a talent. Although I do procrastinate better than probably 95% of the population, I was thinking more along the lines of talking about things I am good at that are a positive thing.

This could be a very short blog. Maybe I'll add pictures to make it more interesting....

[5 minutes later...I'm still trying to come up with something....]

Okay, I guess I should put down my stand-by "Artist" talent. I don't work on that as much as I should, so the quality isn't what I think it could be...but I do like to draw.

This is a drawing I did of Max a few years ago..a dog that belonged to a friend of a friend...long story...

Right now my big daily art project is to draw in Sharpie a picture on my kids' paper lunch sacks. I'm not sure if they are enjoying the artwork, but it does give them a unique lunch sack. I've drawn two different things each morning since school started in September. I got tired of coming up with new scenes, so at the moment I'm going through the alphabet and drawing animals that begin with the letter of the day.

Let me just tell you that if I were to ever discover a new species of animal I would probably name it something that begins with the letter 'X', and rhymes with 'orange'. X because really the only decent animal out there is the Xoloitzcuintli--or Mexican Hairless Dog. And the orange rhyme is just because nothing rhymes with orange.

This is the Xolo...not very attractive is he?:

[Another 5 minutes later...Why are lists of my negative qualities so much easier to come up with?]

Okay. I'm a fairly decent athlete. I'm better when I'm not carrying an extra 20 pounds, but I enjoy sports. I like it that I can still (20 pounds too heavy and more grey hair than I want to admit) take a soccer ball and school young punks. I can still have a man goal keeper run out at me thinking I'm an easy pick, casually slide the ball around his hulking form, and leave him on the ground while I put the ball neatly in the back of the net at an outdoor co-ed soccer game.

I can bake a mean pie. (which doesn't help the shedding of those extra 20 pounds, but brings happiness to everyone enjoying said pie)

I like to write. Not sure how great I am at it, but I enjoy it so I'll count that as something I can do.

I sing really well to the car radio. Not so much on my own, but imitating other singers is fun for me. Probably has to do with my sadistic liking of mocking people...which I probably shouldn't have mentioned in a blog I'm trying to keep to positive things I do well....

[Another 5 minutes later....this is getting depressing....]

I'll stop now before I hurt myself.

The photos made it look like a longer post anyway, so that's something.

So now you can all say that yes, I have positive talents. Everyone does. And to stay with a bit of a trend here, I found this quote that made me feel a little better:

Talent counts thirty percent; appearance counts seventy. - Chinese proverb

So I'll take that and go about my life with 30% talent, and will appear to have more. :)

Works for me.

I've put it off long enough--another blog on procrastination

2009-03-18T08:04:00.000-07:00

I believe I have mentioned before that I have an innate ability to procrastinate. I have procrastinated things for as long as I can remember.

Countless last minute hours were spent finishing homework assignments that I knew about for a month, but started and finished the night before it was due.

I STILL haven't taken Christmas neighbor gifts around. For Christmas 2007.

My house needs a good thorough cleaning, but is kindly waiting for me to stop putting it off and just get to it.

And right behind me as I type this blog, I have 5 really big Rubbermaid bins FULL of "scrapbook" stuff that I have just thrown in the bins over the years to 'someday' get to and put in some sort of order showing that I actually care about my family and the mementos we have kept. I can't procrastinate this one much longer. The bins were kept tucked neatly "out of sight, out of mind" in our storage room, but when my husband decided to clean out the room he also forced my hand on the scrapping crap.

And trust me, most of it IS crap.

I am fairly certain that if/when I do finally go through these bins that I will take the number 5 down to just 2 bins.

Because I also put off deciding what is really worth keeping, so have been known on way too many occasions to just open a bin and throw in things to decide about later.

Old school work my kids have done over the years. Art work, fine. But I'm talking spelling tests and math homework. I didn't even want to DO math or spelling as a kid, why would my own kids want to keep old paperwork? For posterity? "Hey look, back in the day I could add." Ah, the memories....

I'm really not looking forward to going through the bins. But I know it has to be done. So I will do like I always do and put it off to the last possible minute.

In the dictionary the definition of procrastinate is this:

pro-cras-ti-nate

–verb (used without object)
1. to defer action; delay: to procrastinate until an opportunity is lost.

–verb (used with object)
2. to put off till another day or time; defer; delay.

I admit to having looked that definition up before I started this blog entry. It is another case of me knowing half the definition. #2 was the way I thought of the word. It is exactly what I do. Put everything off till another day or time.

The first definition made me actually pause and think. "To procrastinate until an opportunity is lost."

If I were the type of person who looked back a lot on things I've done or decisions I have made, I would probably be able to come up with a pretty long list of opportunities I have lost because of my procrastination.

Luckily (or unluckily) for me, my memory is not that wonderful--especially on things that might dishearten me. I have a fairly selective memory I think. I don't hold grudges--well, except for that one chick in band in high school who borrowed $20 from me on our band trip to Edmonton Canada to buy a cashmere sweater that looked fabulous on her and then she would run the other way when she saw me and never repaid me or the other people she borrowed $20 from to have enough money for the sweater...that still bugs me even 24 years later. Not that she didn't pay me back, but that she hid from me and wouldn't just tell me she couldn't pay it...but I digress--

I don't remember reasons for arguments, which can be good and bad. Good because I'm not walking around mad all the time (and holding a grudge), bad because if the argument is with my husband he has been known to take my forgetting of the reasons for our disagreement to mean I am pretending it never happened. I remember the part where we were disagreeing, but rarely remember the why of it all.

Which I guess makes a good case for my husband because if I don't remember why we were arguing, how am I going to not do or say whatever it was that started it in the first place? But it also makes a good case for him because if whatever it was that we fought about was HIS fault, I'm not going to nag and whine him to death about it all.

Seems like a win-win for him, doesn't it? :)

I do need to work on not procrastinating. I do see things that I am missing because of this particular skill I have.

Simple things like being late for most things because I just flat out put off getting ready to go. Putting off writing so that I miss the deadline for the 'First Chapter' contest at a writer's convention this year.

Complex things like not becoming friends with new neighbors because I put off meeting them until it becomes downright awkward. Not going to see new nieces or nephews when they are born because I put it off so long that they are home from the hospital--and sometimes crawling--before I get my backside in gear and go see them.

Things that when I am old and have nothing better to do except finally let my brain look backwards into things I have or haven't done with my life, I will regret. Or I will do my best to talk myself out of the regret--even though I will have earned every twinge of guilt or remorse.

Arthur Miller said: Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.

So I will do my best to stop procrastinating. Then maybe I will have the right regrets.

Easier said than done when you have made procrastination an art form like I have.

I will probably just ease myself into it...be closer to on time to things. Meet my neighbors within at least the first 6 months of them moving into the neighborhood. See my new nieces and nephews before they speak in complete sentences...

I guess to start I should wrap up this rambling blog that is really only helping me ignore the Rubbermaid bins behind me...

Here is a quote I found that I like..and when you read it you'll see why...and then you will have zero faith in me that I will ever stop procrastinating. :)

Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow. ~Mark Twain

Happy Pi(e) Day!

2009-03-14T08:30:00.000-07:00

In case anyone wants another reason to have pie...(does anyone need a reason??)

Today is 3.14

Pi Day

I'm not good at math, so Pi means pretty much just another number to me.

But I'm good at pies :) So if there is a day that combines something I'm horrible at and something that tastes pretty darn good, then I'm all for it.

So whether you like a nice fruit pie, a cream pie...a Kahlua cream cheese pie from Marie Callendars--seriously tasty--...Or even a chicken pot pie, take advantage of an excuse like today's date to indulge.

But do it my way and leave the math part out of it--no counting calories, no adding up the weight gain that will come with having that extra piece of your favorite kind of pie....

Happy Pi Day everyone :)

March Ramble

2009-03-08T15:55:00.000-07:00

Just a bit of rambling thought today. Shocker, I know.

I was driving down the freeway the other day and a car passed me that had those vinyl letters in the back window that said "Die Trying".

They were young punks in that car, so they probably thought it was a fairly tough statement and didn't mean for it to cause undue thinking on any one's part--especially a kooky lady in a crapper suburban like me.

But I did think about it for awhile. Probably longer than I usually think about things, and I'm sure I'll get over it sooner rather than later....but still. I actually pondered a bit. (Write that down, because it will probably be awhile before I ponder again..)

My first thought (after the one about punk kids and their driving habits..,), was that the phrase 'die trying' is actually what everyone should hope for.

In the religion I belong to, we believe that everyone should strive toward perfection. Christ gave us the perfect example and we should emulate that and do good deeds, love thy neighbor, etc.

But also in my religion--especially in the women--I think that they have taken that perfection route a bit too literally. There are all sorts of statistics on the number of women in my State who are on anti-depressants. And I have felt for awhile that a lot of that is due, in part to the drilling in of the perfection statements.

The key is that we are to strive for that. It never, ever says we will actually become perfect. No one can. It is just part of being human that makes it so. We cannot become perfect in this life. We can, however, try to become better people. Better wives, husbands, friends, brothers...We can help others, we can volunteer, we can set good examples and try our darnedest to not be judgemental of other people and the choices they make. And we can be easier on ourselves and those around us.

No one is perfect. It isn't going to happen in this lifetime. All we can do is try to become better tomorrow than we are today and not be hard on ourselves when we slide backwards a bit because of our human nature.

All we can do is try. Try to just be good to yourself and those around you. Try to give up bad habits and replace them with good ones. Try to learn more. Try to be an example of a decent human being when the rest of the world is going to crap. Try to be more involved. Try to be more forgiving. Try to love yourself and not stress so much about being perfect.

Try every day until we die.

Hence, the 'Die Trying'. That's what we should all be doing. We should die trying to be better people. To make the world--at least our little part of it--a happier place to be. Die trying to make other people's lives a little nicer.

A great thought that sort of goes along with this whole jumble of ramble is from Marvin J. Ashton, an apostle from my church. He said:

“Be one who nurtures and builds. Be one who has an understanding and a forgiving heart, who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them”.

I know it isn't a huge epiphany of sorts. It is just a reminder that even if we die tomorrow, we won't be dying perfect...but we will hopefully die trying to be a better person than we are right now.

And like my favorite part of that quote..."Leave people better than you found them."

If we do that, we won't just die trying.

I think we will have died succeeding.

Valentine's Reflections

2009-02-16T20:24:00.000-08:00

In case you missed it, Valentine's Day was a couple of days ago.

Hallmark's favorite holiday after Christmas.

Did you know that one billion valentine's day cards are sent worldwide each year? It's true. I looked it up and learned something. One b i l l i o n. (Go ahead and say that drawn out with a pinky held at the corner of your mouth. It's more fun that way when you bring in a little Dr. Evil to the mix)

I was not one who joined in the masses of Valentine's card mailings. Or givings. Or even post-it note leaving.

It isn't that my husband and I didn't participate in some semblance of Valentine's celebration...we went to dinner at a friends house with some other couples and had a lovely meal, great conversation, and watched a really bad movie. So that was something.

I learned early on in my marriage that Valentine's isn't my husband's favorite holiday.

I remember buying a card (apparently Hallmark sold one billion and one that year), and a shirt for my husband of 5 months and presenting the gift to him that evening when he got off work. Our first Valentine's as a married couple...no kids yet to kill off brain cells...you know the drill.

I have pulled way back on my Valentine's giving since that year. He tried really hard, but couldn't actually bring himself to like the shirt I bought for him. He did keep the card though, so over the years I have given the occasional card, but left the clothes buying to him.

It all reminds me of the advice I have heard given to newlywed couples: Start the way you mean to go.

If you don't want to have to add Valentine's as a holiday to remember, don't start off with the extravagant gifts.

I can check that box off. Tried it the other way, didn't work. What we have now works fine. It is what we expect. It isn't a romantic holiday, but it is a good excuse to pretend to make really yummy sugar cookies to give to neighbors, but eat them all yourself...:)

Starting the way you mean to go is like when you make your husband a lunch to take to work. If you start packing a lunch for him, he is going to expect it. Makes sense. So unless you are going to keep doing it willingly, don't start making his lunch unless you are in it for the long haul.

Or like when you are first married and you and your husband are watching TV together and he says "I'm really thirsty", so you jump up and get him a nice beverage. Maybe even add crushed ice...and a straw if you are feeling really loving.

Fifteen (or seventeen) years later when he says "I'm really thirsty" and you pop off with the "Great. While you're up..." That doesn't go over quite as well when he has you trained to help him out of his parched predicament.

(I find it hilarious...my husband? Not so much. But we are getting to a good middle ground now, which is nice).

The one thing I never started was ironing. I hate to iron. Hate. But when I do iron I figure it shows that I care, right? (I'll just keep telling myself that...)

Starting as you mean to go is harder than it sounds. When you are newly married, you are still in the 'honeymoon' stage where you are trying harder to please so that your spouse doesn't start praying that they are just in the middle of a bad dream and are begging to wake up and find themselves single again.

The stage where your "quirks" are still endearing and not yet annoying.

So making lunch everyday with a cute little note slipped inside is more likely to occur in the first year of marriage.

By the fifth year, the note--if there still is one--will usually have fewer little heart doodles and more lists of 'To-do's for when you get home from work.

By the 23rd year you are probably making your own lunch and wondering how you got to that point.

Don't take it personally.

Life changes. Stuff happens. You get more comfortable with each other and don't feel the constant need to remind your spouse that you love them.

Which is probably the very best reason we have to celebrate Valentine's Day.

After a year of living and getting through all the ups and downs that life throws at you, it is nice to have a holiday that reminds you to tell your significant other how much they mean to you.

Because even if you are certain that they already know--I mean, after all...I DID iron those shirts for you...that one time...a few months ago....it is nice to have your partner acknowledge that you are an important part of their life. Someone you care for. Appreciate. Can't imagine life without.

You know. Love.

So if you forgot to mention to your better half on Valentine's Day that you are grateful for their presence in your life. Maybe we should change that.

You can never be told too often that someone is happy you are in their life and that you make living life more fun and entertaining than it would be otherwise.

Even if you go through life with a slightly wrinkled shirt and you pack your own lunch.

Happy belated Valentine's Day.

"English is your mother tongue, and stuff."

2009-02-05T14:53:00.000-08:00

Human vocabulary is fascinating. We have dictionaries with thousands and thousands of words--with pronunciations, forms, and a lot of the time the words have multiple definitions.

If you pick a random word of which you are fairly certain you know the correct meaning and look it up in the dictionary, there is a decent chance that it will be a little different than you thought. You might have the basics down on that word, but sometimes there is more than one way to use that particular word that catches you completely unaware.

For example, since I was feeling a bit melancholy today, I looked it up. One of the noun definitions for melancholy is 'black bile'.

Whatever the heck that is. I couldn't even really figure out how you would use the word melancholy to talk about black bile.

So you see, you don't always use some words in all the ways they could be used.

With my attention now caught for a moment, I saw that one of the synonyms for melancholy was 'funk'. So just for fun I entered f-u-n-k into the search and pulled up this definition:

Funk [fuhngk]

–noun
1.cowering fear; state of great fright or terror.
2.a dejected mood: He's been in a funk ever since she walked out on him.

–verb (used with object)
3.to be afraid of.
4.to frighten.
5.to shrink from; try to shirk.–verb (used without object)
6.to shrink or quail in fear.

I am probably showing my ignorance of the English language here, but honestly I always thought that only #2 was the definition of funk. When I think of being afraid or fear, the word funk never comes to my mind.

Of course, part of that could be due to the addition of the letter 'Y' to funk for a completely different word. Because, c'mon. How can you be afraid if you are funky? :)

I admit that I am not a wordsmith. Keeping it simple works for me. I don't have to think too hard, and anyone I am talking with doesn't have to pretend to understand what I am talking about.

I will admit that in the past I have pulled the 'dumb blond' maneuver to get out of a relationship with an overachieving wordsmith type. I was a senior in high school and dating a guy who was fond of coming over and reading the paper. He found me a bit naive and childish when instead of watching him read the paper (there was no paint around for me to watch dry...), I chose to go outside in the snow and play catch with a stray dog that happened by. Silly me.

Once I realized that his intelligence was his point of pride, it was really quite simple for me to figure out how to make him think it was HIS idea to break up with me.

I played dumb. And I played it well.

This is the guy who I might have mentioned before, as the one who poured out his life's drama to me and then got angry with me when I didn't have any similar stories of pain and anguish to share.

He popped off with a "Doesn't ANYTHING bother you???"

And my smart aleck (read "dumb", but I meant every word..which I guess is kind of sad...) response was "Yes. I hate it when you eat a peanut M&M and there is no peanut in it."

And the last nail in the coffin could be heard echoing throughout the room.

I saw him a couple of years later and he rattled off a complete sentence with more large words than a Thesaurus, then smiled a cocky smile and waited for my response to that one.

I honestly had no idea what he had said. Not one. I'm not sure it was even English. So I did the only thing I could do in that situation.

I looked at him blankly, shrugged, said "Nice talking with you" , and walked away.

To this day, the man still believes I am dumb as a post. Maybe so. But his life is still miserable and I still only really get bummed about peanut M&M's without a peanut. I can handle the dumb as a post title if my other option is so depressing.

This has been my pensive ramble for today. I hope someone learned a little something here--mainly for my resolution for 2009--and I hope that you think about looking up some words and learning something on your own too.

And if anyone can explain that 'black bile' thing to me that would be great.

Melancholy? Black bile? I just don't get it....

Broken Resolutions (Already) and BFL

2009-01-21T11:32:00.000-08:00

I know it has been a couple of weeks since I last wrote here in my blog.

Truth be told, I totally ruined any chances of ever writing in this again when in my last post I made the huge error of deciding that my New Year's resolution would be to not write here unless I had some sort of point. That right there killed any ability I had to write in my blog unless I wanted to immediately cancel out my resolution.

You see which part won.

I really shouldn't make resolutions. They are depressing when you don't keep them.

Maybe if I'm really lucky I will be able to throw in a good point today so that I can not completely fail in the resolution...we'll see.

I went out to dinner last Friday with a good friend of mine from high school. We hadn't seen each other in years, but it didn't seem to matter. We ate really bad food and had a wonderful time.

One thing that came up in our discussion--and I told her this was what I was going to write about in my blog--was that there are some things that people will not show other people, even if you offered them a large amount of cold hard cash.

The 'thing' in particular that I had in mind was the "Before" photo of anyone doing Body-for-Life--as long as you haven't as yet reduced your mass to an "After" type body.

Body-for-Life, in case you aren't aware, is a diet and exercise lifestyle that includes lowering your fat intake, exercising daily (alternating between cardio and weight training), having 6 smaller meals per day instead of three large ones, and having one blessed day known as your "free day" where you can eat ANYTHING you want. Most people live for that day.

At the beginning of this program, they encourage you to take photos of yourself in a swimming suit. This photo is to be posted somewhere where you will see it and be motivated to continue with the outlined diet and exercise. Because, seriously...who wants to be a 'before' photo?

I happen to have 'before' photos of myself.

You will never, ever, ever see them. And that is because I still look exactly like my 'before' photos.

It is funny how the vanity of humans make it so that the instant we become an 'after' photo, we will be more than happy to show those frightening 'before' photos. I would actually look forward to showing them if I had an 'after' body.

The reaction in my mind would be someone taking the photos from my hand and gasping "That was YOU???"

(I would at that time smile demurely--assuming that my 'after' body also included the ability to suddenly be demure...right now I'm not sure demure is in anyone's description of me--and say, "Yes, that was me. Shocking isn't it? Look at me now. --I would pause and dramatically add--I can be dramatic even now--"It took a lot of hard work and dedication, but I love my 6-pack abs and my size 4 jeans.")

Can you be demure and mention being a size 4 at the same time? I think the word demure becomes something a lot less lady-like..

Showing the 'before' photo before there is an after photo is not nearly as satisfying.

The thought of it is actually frightening.

Can you imagine? "Here, look at this 'before' photo of me."

Stunned silence. Glances from the photo, to my gelatinous self, back to the photo. "Uh. Before what?"

At least in real life I have clothes that cover my 'before' body. Those photos are 'before' body in a bikini. If you are a 'before' photo type, it is easy to ignore when you are always fully clothed. Throw a swimming suit into the mix and there is no more hiding. It is cruel, but effective.

I know you've seen people in bikinis who should never, ever be out in public in such a state of undress. I have seen them and have actually thought to myself, 'They must have a fabulous self-image to have looked in the mirror and thought that looked good." Good for them.

Not so good for the rest of us.

Maybe someday I will post my 'before' photos. That would be a really nice day for me, because it would mean that I have finally achieved my 'after' body.

Either that, or I will have joined the ranks of the bikini-wearing heavy folk who have magical mirrors, good self-images, or rose-colored glasses. Or my eyes will be poked out. Or all my friends will be even larger than me so I'll be known as the skinny one (thanks Sinbad for that idea...).

Pretty much don't count on ever seeing my photos.

But for fun, you can go here and see the before and after photos on Body-For-Life. If you go there and read about the program, you might learn something--which will make this post meaningful. Which means I will have not broken my resolution.

Brilliant.

Still a "Before" body type, but brilliant just the same. :)

From Shallow Rambling to Waist-Deep Pointed Trivia

2009-01-08T10:02:00.000-08:00

I'm not a very deep person. As a matter of fact, if I were a swimming pool I would probably be the shallow end--but at the TOP of the stairs going into the pool..you know where I'm talking, the part where you stand in water to your ankles and wonder if you should dive in or keep edging your way deeper.

In other words, I'm almost dry-land I'm so shallow.

(Reading my blogs probably points that out since I admit that I am a rambler without much aim)

I have, however, been reading articles in magazines and newspapers and online from authors who are consistently writing about subjects that are important to them, yet they are able to add the humor and fun that makes reading their articles entertaining. They are featured writers in their respective columns for a reason. I admire their ability and prose.

For example, I think the ESPN writer Rick Reilly is a hoot. He writes his opinions well and is able to add phrases like: "It's like being named Miss Ogallala. Or Best Amish Electrician." That is funny to me. (read his whole article I took that from here)

Mr. Reilly is knowledgeable on sports. He has an actual opinion and is able to get that point he is trying to make across to a lot of readers. He is able to be funny enough to get those same readers to make a point of reading him consistently.

Another more local newspaper man I enjoy reading is Robert Kirby from the Salt Lake Tribune. He causes a lot of lifted eyebrows in the Mormon community--which is exactly why he writes for the Trib and not for Deseret News, even though he happens to be a member of said community. :) He actually lives near me, and I often pass him in the frozen food section of the local grocery store...his photo looks just like him. Poor guy. ;) An example of his work can be found here That is his piece for today's paper.

In the past when I have thought about the kind of writer I would like to be, I assumed I could just write and all would be well.

Then I attended some writer's conferences and learned that I should write what I know, or get to really know something so that I can write about it. One speaker at a conference said to become an expert in something and then people would want to read your book and have you speak about that subject that you have become an expert on. (Apparently run-on sentences would be a subject I could excel at...and dangling prepositions, and excessive use of parenthesis).

After that particular conference I realized I really have no single minded knowledge of any particular subject. Unless you count 'How to Go Insane with Seven Children or Less', or 'The Best Places in Your House to Hide the Good Snacks'.

I suppose Kirby doesn't have a single subject he is attached to but he has been writing his column so long that no one cares. Now they just read it for the laughs and to see if anyone in their church congregation resembles people he has mocked.

I'm rambling again, I know. But there is a point I am trying to make.

I am shallow and have no focused knowledge of any single subject. So against everything I believe in regarding resolutions, I have finally found one I think I might be able to pull off.

My goal is to write blog entries that will have some sense of meaning. Maybe give anyone who reads the blog a tidbit of information that they never knew before.

I'm not kidding myself (or you). I know that what I write here--even with a concerted effort at having actual meaning--will still be classed as rambling trivia. I can't help that part.

I can help directing the blog from rambling trivia to rambling trivia with some sort of point.

Maybe.

And I can try to keep them light in tone. Which is pretty easy, actually since--Hello--I'm shallow. Remember?

I can't guarantee that you'll learn anything from my blogs. I can't even guarantee that I'll write something funny enough to make you want to keep coming back to see what I write next. I can barely promise myself that I'll come up with a topic to write about that will keep me interested enough to keep writing any particular entry.

The only thing I can guarantee is that the sun will rise tomorrow, I will have to come up with something edible for dinner tonight for my family, and that the water in the pool is easier to adjust to if you just jump right in.

So I'm jumping. No diving. No running. No lifeguard on duty. Just me getting used to learning something new, sharing it here on my blog, and at least giving myself a chuckle out of the whole mess, even if no one else does.

January

2009-01-05T09:00:00.000-08:00

I am not a fan of January.

For one thing, it is too stinkin' cold outside. I am a fan of sun and warmth. Snow and ice? Not so much.

For another, it is the new year so I always contemplate resolutions I should make, resolutions I have failed at achieving, and resolutions that I think other people assume I should make. (In other words, I think far too hard about how much extra poundage I have going and try to justify it by saying that at least I haven't GAINED any weight this past year...which in reality only really means that I have officially hit a much too comfortable rut).

Another reason why I'm not a fan of January is that it is my birthday this month. So I'm not only chubby/stocky/pleasantly plump (take your pick)...but I'm old too.

I have decided though--and I'm only putting this down on the blog so that I can look back on it in a year and remind myself of another resolution that I have made (and am still hopeful that I will attain)--that although I can't do anything about getting older, I CAN do something about being heavier than I would like. So I'm back to the "eat less, move more" plan and am doing my best to not label it as a new year's resolution. It is just me deciding that if I can't stop time, I will not be old and fat, but will instead be old and fit.

This year I'm also not a fan of January because my oldest child will turn 16. That brings on a whole other set of worries. Dating, the drama that comes from dating, the boys that cause the drama...I'm not sure I'm ready for this. My daughter is sure she is ready. I wish I had her confidence.

Of course, with my added age and the 'been-there-done-that' that comes with being my advanced age, I can see more of what my daughter is in store for than she does. And she has the added burden of being pretty and nice and friendly to everyone. I had the nice and friendly part down when I was 16, but I was never as self-assured of myself as she is.

I can't decide if that is a good thing for her or a bad thing.

But it doesn't help my worry factor for her at all.

January would probably be more palatable if I snow skied. But I am one of those rare Utahns who has only skied one time. Ever. And the rented skis I had were cheap and the bindings broke on the first run down the mountain. So it wasn't exactly a successful outing.

Skiing wouldn't solve all my problems. I would still be fluffy and old. I would still worry about my 16 year old daughter. And I probably would still prefer the heat over the cold. I just have one hangup about skiing that I've had trouble getting past enough to attempt the sport again, and that is that I don't know how to stop. If I could snow plow, or do the fancy turn that brings me to a standstill, I think skiing might hold some appeal.

But since I can't stop in skis, all I do is picture me hurtling down the frozen mountainside trying to dodge other skiers and various trees, praying that by some miracle I will stop without causing bodily damage to either myself or some unlucky bystander(s).

("Go that way, really fast. If anything gets in your way...turn.")

Maybe I will just stick to working out in my basement, trying to skip the sweets, worrying about my daughter, and trying to stay warm until the sun decides to live in Utah again so I can do some real skiing--the kind that involves water and boats and a single slalom ski.

Hibernating until February would be a nice second option.

To wrap up my rambling first blog of the new year, I'd like to stick with my John Cusak movie quotes. It won't make a whole lot of sense, but it does fit with the whole skipping the sweets theory. That is a grasp at a straw, but I'll take it.

If for no other reason than because I love this quote. :)

"You know, junk food doesn't deserve the bad rap that it gets. Take these pork rinds for example. This particular brand contains two percent of the R.D.A. - that's Recommended Daily Allowance - of riboflavin. "

Happy New Year. :)

Science Fair Projects

2008-12-30T08:17:00.000-08:00

It is the time of year that I'm not really thrilled about. Time when your (my) child hands you a paper from their teacher that they have had shoved in the bottom of their backpack for over a month that states that said child is expected to participate in the school science fair.

Now, if they had given me the paper when the teacher expected them to, it wouldn't be such a problem.

And if my husband wasn't a science guy/Biology major, it would still be okay because I could figure out a really quick and easy project for them to do--at this point going solely for credit and NOT to make a run for winning any prizes.

Last year the brilliant plan was to buy a bunch of baby mice, 2 cages for comparison, and feed one group regular mouse food and the other group sugared cereal. The plan sounded easy enough, but the mice in the cereal group ended up not being all that healthy to begin with and thus lost weight (which was not really what we were going for here).

And to top it off, once the project was over we were stuck with pet mice.

This year, my daughters chose their own project.

No animals involved, which was nice.

They decided to do a sleep deprivation project. The plan was to stay awake for 3 days and 2 nights, doing various activities such as a reading comprehension test at the beginning, middle, and end of the project; physical activities at those same times to judge coordination and stamina, etc.

This project started Sunday night.

They took at 4 hour nap in the middle of the first night.

Last night--night #2--...after I explained to them that 4 hours of sleeping does not a sleep deprivation case make...they fell asleep for another 4 hours.

Now, I am not going to stay up all night to help them stay awake just so they actually complete the project.

And 4 hours of sleep is actually normal some nights.

So now, after all that effort I am terrified that my husband is going to load the kids up in the car and take them out to purchase more items for a different project. Items with legs and hair and that breathe.

I know....maybe I can talk them into studying why a person can't leave their blog text colors alone....:)

In the mean time, I have 3 daughters and one of their friends who have had 8 hours of sleep in the last 48 or so hours...which means they probably don't have enough for a science fair project, but they definitely have enough to make for very ornery children.

It is like normal around here--but escalated. To much louder decibles.

So we have that going for us.

New Backgrounds

2008-12-28T22:24:00.000-08:00

If any of you have checked my blog over the last couple of days, you will have noticed that I am now on my 5th background.

I can't decide what I like best.

I started with the standard blogger background that I have had for over a year, then I moved to a lovely green. But when browsing a bit more I decided that I like the red and black and white colored backgrounds the best so I found one in those tones, but my mom didn't like the white text. So I changed to pink, and got comments like: "Well, it is pink." But you could tell they didn't mean that in a good way. So I went back to the red/black/white combo, but with a red background behind the text instead of black so that I didn't have to have white text.

But you'll notice that the background has the words "Happy New Year", which means that in a week or so I will be changing the background again.

One of these days I might break down and figure out how to do html stuff on my own and design my own background. That way everyone will have to zip it about their likes and dislikes because they will be trying to boost my ego and tell me how talented I am.

Or they will just be trying really hard to not hurt my feelings.

Either way works for me. :) When I don't design the background myself, it is easy to say that they aren't fond of the choice.

I just thought I would explain the multiple backgrounds lately. It all comes back to my lack of having a decision making gene. Not sure who I can blame for that one, but I'm trying really hard to not take it all on myself. Parents are lovely scapegoats. And as I am becoming my own children's scapegoats on their defects, I am getting good at talking them into blaming their grandparents too.

So mom, it is all your fault.

Whatever it is. :)

And we all thank you for it even when you actually have nothing at all to do with it.

Whatever that means.

(Are you sure you didn't like the pink?)

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T15:02:00.000-08:00

Look! A Christmas entry that is actually ON Christmas.

That's huge.

I just wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas...Happy Holidays, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa...etc.

My Christmas has been good. I only have to return one item, so that is a bonus. And shockingly it isn't an item for my husband (picky guy), it is from my daughter (I *gasp* got her the wrong boots--so she is turning into picky teen :) )

At this time of year, as every Christmas lately, I am now at the point of trying to decide if losing weight is worth it or if I should just throw in the towel and see how large I can get. If I hadn't started exercise/eating right 3 weeks ago, I might have been able to break new weight records this year. :)

It is nice that all is normal in my world for the moment.

For the "reason for the season" comment in today's blog, I would implore you all to go read "The Living Christ" again. (For you non-LDS folk, you can see it here: The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles . I guess for even you LDS guys. Might make it easier to read it online than to get it off your wall or wherever you might have put your copy. It is a good reminder of our faith and our beliefs that He was born for us, He lived for us, and He died for us. Christians can all embrace that, regardless of denomination.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season filled with friends and family and laughter--and little to no fruit cake.

New Year's Resolutions for 2009

2008-12-21T09:00:00.000-08:00

What the heck.

I write about Thanksgiving almost a month after the fact, why not write about resolutions--that may or may not be kept--before Christmas.

It all stems from Christmas anyway. The thoughts of resolutions that I really should have instigated years ago. I am reminded of these items usually on Christmas Eve when I am one of, well..more people than you would think, who are out doing beyond last minute Christmas shopping.

I am reminded that I should resolve to do my Christmas shopping early. Like maybe February. Sure my kids won't want a single item I buy for them that early in the Christmas shopping year, but since I put off buying gifts until everything they ask for is sold out anyway, why put myself through the headache? Either way they end up wondering why they bothered even handing over a Christmas list.

I am also reminded that I should probably resolve to have a more festive December. I never remember that one until January, and by the time December rolls around again that thought has definitely left the building. Part of the problem might be that I don't really have a secure grasp on what exactly I mean when I say 'a more festive December'. Maybe I should start there and move forward from that point...I might mean having more decorations, louder Christmas music playing in the house, more outside activities like playing in the snow, going to see Christmas lights, or hosting a party. But who knows? Any of that might make it more festive, but in order to do those things I would have to also resolve to write things down and follow through.

Speaking of which:

My husband asked me today if I could just appear to make an attempt at being more organized this year. I don't even really have to be all that organized--just have to look like I'm trying. I might be able to pull that one off. Maybe I should write that down....

Now, don't go thinking my husband was being rude. For the record he told me this as we were driving away from the house to go Christmas shopping. He had taken the day off work so we could get it all done. I knew it. He knew it. I had the kids' lists clutched in my hand. All he did was ask "Where to?", and I gave him a blank stare and probably said something really intelligent like, "Uh..."

You would think that in order to really get the most out of Christmas shopping--especially when it is 3 days before Christmas and up to that point we had done a total of ZERO minutes shopping--that I would have had nice orderly lists of what to buy, where to buy them, and maybe a detailed map with shortcuts, times allotted for each store, and color coded push pins to mark where we had been and if we had been successful, and a back up plan in case something was sold out.

But no. All I could come up with was the classic response of "Uh..."

So you can't blame the guy for asking if I could try to look more organized. He has given up on me actually BEING organized. He has, in the past, bought me calendars, planners, day timers, etc. all in an attempt to help me become organized.

I have found that you have to actually USE those items in order for them to work.

Keeping a calendar works for me...but only when I remember to look at it.

If I go back and look at all my past New Year's resolutions, getting more organized is usually on the list. This year, putting down that I need to LOOK more organized makes me think that I might actually accomplish the task. :) I'm pretty good at opening a day timer and flipping through pages and frowning in mock-concentration. I have an old day planner full of marvelous doodles. A few appointment dates and times. And doodles with captions--which I suppose could be categorized as comics except they aren't funny to anyone except me.

So we have a week or so before the new year. I would adore it if anyone reading this would leave a comment on something they are going to resolve to do in 2009.

(Yes, I used the word 'adore')

Come up with something fun, something good. Something funky.

I'm going to go practice looking efficiently organized....

Giving Thanks

2008-12-15T20:57:00.000-08:00

I know most normal human beings would have taken the opportunity to talk about being thankful around, oh..I don't know...Thanksgiving maybe? But since I have never claimed to be normal, I wait until mid-December to mention anything about thanks.

Strangely enough, I will be chatting a bit about this past Thanksgiving.

Okay, not so strange...typical actually.

I'm also the type who thinks of really fantastic comebacks in arguments about 2 hours after the fact. Which is really annoying, and a totally different subject that I may or may not ever get back on.

So for Thanksgiving this year we travelled to Idaho to spend the holiday with my in-laws.

Lovely people, the in-laws.

My mother-in-law had a poster board taped to her refrigerator and a big pile of post-it notes next to it. Her brilliant idea for something to entertain our brood, was to have us all come up with 25 things each that we are thankful for. Once we had 25, we were able to get her special prize (which IS different than a major award...just in case you were paying attention to my earlier posts...).

The only real rule was that it couldn't be a generic thankful note. You had to expound a bit on the thought.

My husband didn't get that part of the memo and rattled of 25 quick things he was thankful for, such as toilet paper and indoor plumbing. There is a theme there that no one should dwell on too deeply...

My daughter Victoria and son JD got into the spirit of the program and went to work immediately. They were the first two to complete the assignment.

My favorite of JD's was: I'm thankful for Kelly because she isn't always mean. Which, if you know my daughter Kelly you would agree that it is nice that she isn't always mean. Just mostly mean. :)

I, of course, did my duty too. I'm always up for a special prize. I was also hungry and hoping the prize had anything at all to do with chocolate. But the award was a two dollar bill for each person. Which is dandy, but I always feel like I should never spend them so I might as well have been given the stack of used post-its...

But I digress...

My list was well thought out. It was also worded very carefully because my in-laws are more straight-laced than I am, so I have to watch my phrasing. Which is good for me, probably. My kids always wonder why I give them the "Remember, they are called 'toots' at Grandma's house, not 'farts'," speech before we pull up to their house. And I won't mention the whole 'bottom/buttocks/bum' fiasco...

My list had lovely items such as, I am grateful for chocolate because it makes me less cranky: and, I am grateful for gas stations that are right off freeway exits so that we can coast on in and get gas when my husband pushes it way too far thinking he can get from SLC to Boise on one tank of gas in a car that only gets 9 mpg.

(and yes, that really happened this trip...adds excitement to the game...)

The whole idea was okay for a Thanksgiving project. I liked it more than how they usually play it by springing it all on us at the Thanksgiving table and going around taking turns saying what we are grateful for. Too much pressure on me for that one. I need more time to think of a brilliant answer that won't get me in too much trouble.

In those instances I usually end up either stammering or blushing (either is bad, and sometimes I get really lucky and do both simultaneously), and then saying something completely cheese-worthy like "I am grateful for my family. That we can all be here together today and eat this lovely dinner that mom-in-law has made--except for those stuffed celery stalk things, which I can't stand. Other than that, it is all good. Really." At which point I usually get a not-so-subtle kick under the table from my husband who is hoping my rambling will stop before I really start to embarrass myself.

(It's all good. My mother-in-law knows I hate the celery things. I've managed to inform her of that every single Thanksgiving that we spend together.)

So if I could sum up, I would say that even though it is the middle of December and I haven't done ANY Christmas shopping yet, I am thankful for a lot of things. I'm thankful for holidays that force us to think about being thankful. I'm thankful that that holiday is before Christmas so that a lot of thankful people are more giving because they have been reminded of all the things they are blessed with. And I'm thankful for family, good friends, good food (especially chocolate), and good times.

Because all of those things make for some pretty great memories.

Some Random Monday Musings

2008-12-08T07:57:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I haven't written a Christmas story here like I said I would. I've started one. But then I had trouble getting it to post correctly, so it is in my drafts area waiting for me to get back to it.

I had the chance to post my part of the A.I. Christmas story and decided it didn't totally suck, so that's nice. And the lady who wrote after me did a fantastic job (she managed to pull in angels and a bit of Christmas magic...so all is well in my Christmas story world now :) ).

With all that out of the way I feel much better. I didn't screw it up--although to be 100% honest I was *this* close to writing that the main character woke up, relieved to find out that the first 8 chapters had been a bad dream.

I would have laughed, but I'm pretty sure the rest of the writing group would have killed me.

On the Christmas train of thought, I wanted to mention that the family left at 7 a.m. Saturday with 3 other families in our neighborhood to cut down our Christmas tree. We have done this for the past 5 years or so, and it is one of the few traditions we have that we are consistent on.

For $5, you get a permit and can cut down any tree you like in certain forests. Our permit is for trees around the Scofield Reservoir area near Price, Utah. Mainly because one of the men in the group is the one who started this neighborhood tradition and he and his wife are from that county.

We all drive in tandem, hike up a mountain, look at dozens of trees, and our family is usually the last one to choose a tree and get it back down the mountain. We also get the tallest tree, so it takes more to find just the right one.

We have 12 1/2 foot ceilings in our living room and always get a tree that goes all the way up. (Which means we over shoot and end up bringing a 20 foot tree home and complain about the 7 feet of tree we managed to drag down to the trailer...7 feet of tree is heavy, by the way).

Luckily we haven't had much snow to wade through for the last couple of years. The last time we had snow to deal with in our tree cutting expedition, was when my husband had just torn his ACL and was waiting for his surgery the next week. Because of his injury the neighbors had gone on their own the week before, so our family drove up alone and my husband sat in the suburban with the youngest 3 kids and they watched as me and the other 4 hiked through thigh deep snow, found a tree 'close' to the road and then took an hour dragging it back to the car.

That was NOT my favorite tree cutting trip.

My husband had the video camera and enjoyed filming our struggles. The rat. He even managed to film a couple of the times when one of the kids would lose their footing and get run over by the tree before we realized we had a rider down.

Good times, good times.

This is me and the kids in front of the tree we finally chose to cut down.

We have the kids take turns cutting the tree, so this year it was my son JD's turn. This is him getting the saw stuck. Again.

And this is my husband Doug (white cap) helping load the trees onto the trailer with our friend Jeff. I couldn't post the whole family and leave him out. Right?

And this is the finished product. I don't have the tree skirt around the bottom yet, and most of our ornaments are handmade ones that the kids did in school over the years..so it is a hodge podge type tree. But we like it.

Author's Incognito Christmas Story

2008-11-30T16:06:00.000-08:00

I have decided that the reason why I sometimes go so long in between blogs, is that I keep waiting for me to come up with something funny and entertaining to write about--or at least something interesting.

Then I realized that I haven't done that at all up to this point, so why start now?

I might as well write constantly in the inane and humdrum style and hope that inspiration strikes at some point.

Like maybe my next life.

So today's blog will not be funny or entertaining or interesting. It probably won't be inspirational either. Humdrum though, I can pretty much guarantee. And thanks to my spell check, I will probably have very few spelling errors.

So we have that going for us.

It is the last day of November and my Yahoo group 'Author's Incognito' (a group of LDS Writers) have started a Christmas story. Each day someone new writes another chapter in the story and we see how it turns out on Christmas.

My day is this coming Saturday. December 6th.

I was looking forward to it in a going-to-the-in-laws kind of way (not too horrible, but you know that at some point disaster could strike without warning..), but now after reading the first couple of chapters I'm looking forward to it more in the 'going-to-the-dentist-for-a-root-canal' type way. I've had time to think about what I've gotten myself into--adding a chapter to authors who are actually published, instead of authors such as myself who write a bunch and WISH they were published. And where I was sort of hoping for an easy, cliche filled icky-sweet Christmas story, we have already had one woman flying to China, her husband in a hospital in Boise, and nary a single elf or Christmas miracle in sight.

At this point I'd be happy for a leg lamp and someone with their eye shot out with a bb gun...

(it's a major award...)

The good news is that I am early enough in the rotation that the skilled writing of the other authors can salvage whatever damage I might do to the story on my day.

I was hoping to gain a tiny bit of assurance in this whole scheme that I have a bit of talent and am not just fooling myself into a sense of skill, so the bad news is that is pretty much not going to happen.

Oh, well.

Since it isn't my next life yet (the life I am really starting to look forward to, by the way--I'm thinking that I'm going to be pretty darn amazing in my next life--brilliant, talented, "really, really good looking" (you have to say that like Zoolander, or it loses it in the translation...) :) ), I do have all power on December 6th. I can pretty much take the story to new highs...like maybe Des Moines. Who needs Boise, right? I just got back from there and it isn't anything to write home about. Or write a Christmas story about...

I'm starting to think more and more about every Christmas cliche out there, and I'm fairly certain I could take this story to a whole new level of hair-pulling frustration for the other authors.

Okay. I wouldn't do that. Not intentionally anyway. But I would have a lot of fun thinking about doing just that.

Instead, I will take my 24 hour time frame for writing and do my very best for what is given to me and hope that what I end up writing just helps make the flow easier for the next author in line.

Darn, I'm too nice.

Maybe I'll write my own Christmas story this month. I'll start tomorrow and go every day if possible. That way I will leave the serious book alone and the other A.I. writers won't hate me.

Be forewarned...I'm also restricting my diet and exercising more this coming month, so for the first week I'm going to be horrifically cranky. It will probably show up in my story. Sugar/chocolate withdrawals will do that to me.

And please remember the disclaimer at the beginning of this post. Humdrum I guarantee. Everything else is a crap shoot.

As Long As We're Dreaming...

2008-11-18T12:42:00.000-08:00

I think I have mentioned before about how one of my mom's favorite past times is to imagine herself winning the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, and then proceed to figure out to the penny how she would spend the 10 million dollars...

If I have mentioned it, I might be repeating myself here...but this is where my rambling thoughts are taking me today, so if you read on it is your own fault. :)

My mom figures out how much money she will give to each of her kids. And then proceeds to worry about 'ruining' us with the gift and imagines us all (or most of us) blowing through the money in record time with nothing to show for it except maybe some photos of exotic vacations and a mortgage on a house we would no longer be able to afford. Of course, I'm sure she figures all the breadwinners in the family will have quit their jobs when given a cool million or two, so she will be worried that once we have no more funds we won't be easily employed.

Which is where the REAL nightmare starts, and she pictures all six of her kids, their respective spouses, and all 27 (?) grandkids move into her house with her and dad. Which means she goes back to her original 'How would I spend the money' thought and revises her dream home to include a lot more bedrooms and bathrooms to fit all of us.

Or she decides to not give us any money at all so that she avoids the whole ruining part of her dream. Which is nice.

What started out as a pleasant 'What if' dream, turns into an ulcer causing headache that just makes my mom glad she won't have the problem of making those decisions. Even though deep down (or maybe not so deep down) she would welcome the opportunity of finding out how it would really all work out.

Her talking about this usually makes me think about what I would do in that situation...what if I suddenly came into millions of dollars? What would I do? I mean besides be annoyed at suddenly finding myself popular--or suddenly meeting relatives I never knew existed, or getting phone calls not from bill collectors (they would be genuinely happy for me for a change ;) ), but from people expecting me to suddenly want to donate money to every cause known (and unknown) to man.

The 'what would you do with X amount of money' daydream is a fairly common one. It is one that helps me keep my husband awake on long driving trips--although now that we are older our answers are not as frivolous and are pretty boring, actually...education funds, wedding funds--with 5 daughters that is a worry for him--mission funds, retirement...My husband usually throws in a car just for kicks, but it isn't anything exciting like a Lotus Elise, but he wants a Mercedes diesel sedan that he gets with no mileage on it so he can keep it forever and drive it to a million miles...

So we have upped the daydream. Beyond money, we take it personal.

What would you imagine you being like if you could picture a perfect life? What would you change in your motivations and goals and life situation?

This discussion usually touches on money...I think most people assume that having money is a better option than not having money. So you wouldn't hear us say "Well, for one thing, we'd be dirt poor and living paycheck to paycheck". Sorry. Been there, done that. :)

Usually we just say that we have enough money for our needs, plus extra for saving and having the freedom to be able to do what we want without worry. Then we move on to other things...

Oh, and one big rule with this discussion--Never suggest what the other person could change to be better. Never, ever, ever. Not unless you want the silent treatment for the next three days.

We talk about physical changes. Like, I would--without the pain of surgery or dieting--be back to my pre-kids weight, but actually have a chest that needs no help from 'miracle' bras. (Can I say that outloud?)

We talk about personality changes. I would probably hope to be more outspoken and quicker to help others. I know my husband would rather I show more emotion--he actually complains that I am too even tempered. Ha. He has no idea how good he has it--until he sees one of his friend's wives throw a complete tantrum over something ridiculous, and then he is forever grateful and thanks me for not being a 'typical' female. Which I am sure I should be offended about that crack, but that would take actual energy... :)

We talk about spiritual changes. I would love to be a scriptorian. I, however, have a memory like a seive. Maybe in my next life....
Until then, we always discuss how we should read and study more, pray more sincerely. Etc. Things we really have the power to do and change, but as you'll see in the next category I am just not that good of a person yet.

We talk about habits--ones we need to gain, and ones we need to lose. I am stuck in the "ignorance is bliss" mode of life. I am fabulously skilled at ignoring the things I should be doing. I'm not proud of that fact. Usually. But I am good at it. If I could change habits--adding or subtracting them with the snap of my fingers--I would probably be a better time-manager. I seem to waste more time than I should. And I would be organized and "together". Although I would probably need a solid definition on "together" in order to really grasp that one.

We talk about professional choices. This can be hard if your spouse or you had a different vision of what his or her life would be like at this point. Annoyingly depressing, actually. So don't forget to keep a lighthearted backup plan ready to fire off if you see the eyes glaze over. For example when my husband starts off with "I always planned on being a doctor. It is what I studied for. It is what I went to school for. It is what I had as a goal since I was eight years old." It would be a good idea to throw out something like, "My high school career center test told me I should be a migrant tree farmer, but I think if I really applied myself it would be fun to be a rodeo clown." Just the shock factor if you can say that and keep a straight face, should be enough to pull the dramatics back about fifty notches and get him over the melodramatic hump.

I'll add a warning to this discussion, should you choose to bring it up with your spouse or a friend. Unless you keep it light, this can be a depressing topic. Not just the career part. And if you don't stick to the rule about not giving the other person suggestions for themselves to change, you will not enjoy this chat even a little. Even if you start your sentence with "We should", that is a dangerous direction to head. Because chances are you meant "You should"...not really "we" should.

So, as long as we are dreaming...what would my picture perfect life be like?

Kids who grow up as assets to society, who help others and are friends to the underdogs.
A husband who is a doctor. :) Or at least finally happy with who he really is so that it doesn't bother him anymore.
A family that enjoys spending time together and is well rounded and not caught up with the things of the world.
Good friends.
More time with extended family.
And an abundance of love to give and to receive.

Oh, and I'd look fabulous, be able to eat all the chocolate I want with no weight gain, and will have just won the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes....

As long as we're dreaming. :)

What Kind of Family Are You?

2008-11-11T14:09:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while, my husband and I will start talking about what kind of family we want to be.

The conversation usually starts after we have done something out of the ordinary but really enjoyed, like gone water skiing, or camping. Or when we have been talking with friends who have told us about some random family activity that they participate in, like one neighbor who has a daughter who is heavily involved in Jr. Rodeo, or another neighbor who always spends a lot of time during the winter with their family snow skiing.

My husband and I end up making a list of all the activities we used to enjoy before we had kids. Then we add to that list the things we always thought we would be doing with our kids.

Then we make a list of things we actually DO with our kids, and proceed to get a bit depressed at the lack of fun and excitement in our lives. :)

After the depression phase of our discussion, we pick at the list and work it down to what we really think we might do with the family. Our list would be longer if it were just the two of us, or if our kids were all older...but we work it and tweak it and do the best we can. Add the pros and cons, and then pretty much just move forward as always until the urge to make new lists hit us. Which is sad, really...

What we end up with is usually a list something like this:

1. Water skiing family--my dad has a ski boat, we have bought enough life-jackets and water tubes over the last couple of years for just our family to make it a good possibility. Negatives--pretty much the cost in gas lately. And my fear of the kids drowning. But I'm working on that last one.

We actually went water skiing this past summer at Jordanelle Resevoir. This is two of the kids on one of our tubes.

2. Snow skiing family--Only my husband snow skis--which is pretty much sacrilege since I grew up here in Utah and have only snow skied once. We both think it would be fun for the kids to learn. I am still fairly certain that until they put breaks on skis or snow becomes warm that I want nothing to do with this one...

This is all the kids with husband in the background...we haven't ever gone snow skiing together so the best I could do for a photo is this one when we went to cut our own Christmas tree last year...snow was involved, so I figured this counts.

3. Horse family--We live at a house with horse property. We have owned horses before. I start at this point remember that my 3rd daughter is allergic to alfalfa and unless we can work around that one, it bumps down the list..but you note that it is usually still on the list.

Somewhat embarrassing, but this is a photo of me and my horse Summer about 20 years ago. Nice hair I had then, huh?

4. Camping/Hiking family--Not as expensive as any of the other options, and being in Utah we are blessed with all kinds of fascinating places to hike and camp. The negative with this one is that our youngest are still too young to hike very far and I am sooo not going to carry anyone.

This is Kelly, Victoria, and JD on a hike this past summer in the Uintahs with their dad. The littles and Kady stayed home with me.

5. TV/Movie/Hang-out at Home family--oh, wait. We already do this one.

I had to add this photo...I like Aragorn. :) He's way hotter than Legolas...

6. Soccer family--Everyone in the family plays soccer. From husband, to me, to all the kids. Well, Victoria refuses to enjoy soccer anymore so that is a problem...but out of default I think we have to just have this one be one of our descriptions--otherwise the insane amount of time I spend coaching, watching, and playing soccer year round would be a waste.

This is my oldest daughter (in purple) playing for her high school soccer team this fall.

7. My kids want to be a 'Go to Every Disneyland in the World' family. Sounds good to me.

So what kind of family are you? What activities do you all do together? What do you wish you did? Or what did you think you would always do when you first got married and then found out that real life kind of snuck up on you and you let it go?

I guess as long as we are doing things together, it doesn't matter what "kind" of family we are. It would be nice to do more things together no matter what the activity. We are lucky that we still enjoy each others company--even with two teenagers and three pre-kindergarteners and two in between...

And now that I've taken waayy more time to write this blog than I planned, I am fairly certain that in about 5 minutes from now we are going to become a "Clean That Mess Up Right Now" kind of family.

Ah, togetherness.

Gotta love it. :)

Procrastination Pays Off

2008-11-01T22:08:00.000-07:00

My whole life I have been a procrastinator.

That is NOT news to anyone who knows me.

From putting off homework all through school until the very last minute, to having to end up doing things myself because I put off asking someone to help out...I put things off with the best of them.

In college I remember having a major English paper due at the end of the quarter. I knew about it for a good month. A friend of mine had the same class and she very diligently studied and wrote her paper, completing it with two weeks to spare. She would ask me if I had written my paper yet and my answer was always "Um. No. I should probably start thinking about that."

The day before the paper was due, I spent 13 solid hours in the college library. I studied. I wrote. I turned my paper in the day it was due having finished the last draft about twenty minutes before class.

My friend who finished her paper two weeks early? She got a C+. Me? I got an A.

My friend was not happy with me.

I, however, was quite proud of myself. :)

Fast forward to this week.

Yesterday was Halloween. We still hadn't bought pumpkins for everyone to carve since I am the great putter-offer. So I loaded kids in the car as soon as school was out and we drove to two grocery stores--All pumpkins...Sold out. I'm thinking, "Crap, maybe I should start actually getting things early. My kids are going to kill me if I can't find a stinkin' pumpkin."

I drove over to a 'pick your own pumpkin' lot with my fingers crossed, and was thrilled to see their field still had a ton of pumpkins. The kids all picked one out (Remember I have 7 kids here...), and I went to pay asking "How much for these 7 pumpkins?"

The answer: "I'm dollaring them out today since it is Halloween. So that will be $7."

Woo hoo! :)

My procrastination saved me at least $14. If I had bought my pumpkins at WalMart at the start of last week like I considered briefly, they were selling for $3 each. Times 7 would have been $21. Plus tax.

That was huge.

I shouldn't really be proud of my procrastination bonuses, but sometimes it has paid off. And I won't be showing my kids this blog entry anytime soon since I keep hounding them about getting homework done early so they can relax and make fun of all the kids who are up late doing their projects at the last minute. I'm not thrilled with being a hypocrite on top of being a procrastinator, but that's what I'm looking at.

Someday I'll work on not putting things off. But not today. Maybe a week from next Tuesday...unless something comes up....

8 Things About Me

2008-10-30T16:59:00.000-07:00

8 Things I am Looking Forward To:

* Relieving my kids of Halloween candy that I am sure they won't like ;)
* Christmas
* My daughter's 16th birthday in January
* Finishing my first novel
* LDS Writer's Convention 2009
* School 2009-10 (all the kids will be in school)
* Winter TV season of Monk, Psych, and Burn Notice
* Summer :)

8 Things on my Wish List

* Being debt free
* Getting back 100% on FLY-lady
* Losing 30 pounds
* My husband figuring out a job that he actually enjoys before he is old enough to retire
* 2-week vacation to DisneyWorld
* To go back and visit my mission in Portugal
* To be more smarter
* To be a better neighbor

8 TV Shows I Like to Watch

* Monk
* Psych
* Burn Notice
* Ace of Cakes
* Iron Chef
* What Not to Wear
* The Office
* Law & Order: SVU

8 Things That Happened Yesterday

* High School soccer banquet for my daughter
* Forgot to pick my 14 y.0. up from school
* Son broke the front of my kitchen drawer completely off
* Daughter broke the arm of a dining room chair
* Vacuumed the stairs (trust me, that's something :) )
* Made caramel layer brownies
* Finally hit the downswing of the nasty headcold I've had
* Returned books to the library

8 People I am Tagging

Cindy
Stacey
Aimee
Angie
Becky
Debbie
Brian & Stephanie

Seriously, I don't have 8 people I know well enough to tag who have blogs. That is so sad and pitiful.

Thanks to Danyelle for the original tag. Way to help point out my lack of social grace in blog-land :)

Ukranian Ice Bath Video

2008-10-30T16:52:00.000-07:00

I laughed out loud at this one...which probably has something to do with my slight sadistic streak and poor habit of laughing at other's misfortunes I suppose...and though some of you have seen it, I thought I would post it here for your viewing pleasure. >:)

Trying to Get Over It

2008-10-16T10:36:00.000-07:00

I have a problem.

I don't really see it as a huge problem, but it drives my husband crazy--and has for most of the 17 years we've been married.

And since I've had this problem for 17 years (more really), you would think that I would either get over it..or HE would.

But since that isn't happening, maybe if I purge my problems here and 'talk' it out, I might see this in a different way and be able to adjust my methods. Or I'll come up with a new argument for my husband that will let him see my madness in a better light. :)

So, here it is.

I cannot clean my house well when anyone is home.

Oh, I can straighten and vacuum with the best of them, but deep down clean? Not a chance. I hate it. (And that should be in capital letters...H-A-T-E)

I'm not fond of cleaning anyway. I don't know many who are. Although I admit I like and prefer it when everything IS clean, I just dislike everything about getting to that point.

When I was in college I would make all my roommates leave for a couple of hours so I could clean the apartment. I would turn my stereo up with a cassette tape of songs that I know all the words to so that I could sing along--usually a compilation I made myself with 80's hits (since...hello...this was back IN the 80's). I would clean, scrub, and mop. The apartment would sparkle and smell nice. My roommates would be more than happy to leave me to my madness since that would mean they wouldn't have to clean.

I think all of this is because I don't like cleaning when other people are around. I don't like it when they are watching me clean. I don't like it when they come through behind me and mess up what I just finished. I don't like it when I get interrupted in the middle of doing something to help out someone else or answer a question...

I also think I really just want 5 minutes at the end of my cleaning blitz to know that for that instant in time, my house/apartment is CLEAN. 5 min. That is all I ask.

My husband (and probably all of you reading this...) thinks I should just 'get over it'. And I should. But this is a long ingrained habit. My stomach actually tenses up at the thought of mopping the kitchen floor or cleaning a bathroom when all of my kids are home. Because I KNOW that 3.7 minutes into it, someone is going to start whining or fighting or demanding attention and I am going to lose it and get my evil-mom-scrunchy-face going.

Cleaning isn't fun anyway...but to clean with the knowledge that nothing I do is going to stay that way--my insane meter starts flashing warning signals. And if I clean too early in the day my husband will come home and wonder what I've been doing all day...sad, but true. I have to time my cleaning to coincide with when he walks in the door. That has been my compensation for him with my OCD response to cleaning with company. Clean just before he gets home and hope that at least ONE room in the house stays in some semblance of order long enough for him to appreciate the effort.

I know that if I just teach my kids to clean up better after themselves, or help out more in the actual cleaning that it would be better. But with all the patience I have in my body (which is actually quite a bit), the patience for cleaning is the shortest straw I have.

It's just me. I don't know why.

My husband refuses to take all the kids out for a couple of hours so I can clean--he is smarter and knows the importance of having the kids pitch in and help, but not smart enough to see that those 2 hours without everyone around would actually make his life better. What is that saying? "Happy wife, happy life"? I need to get that framed and stuck where he can see it daily. :)

My older kids, however are good at taking the younger ones to the park for an hour so I can get at least one room really clean. They know, as my roommates did, that getting out of the way meant them NOT having to clean. I am not raising stupid children.

Just messy ones.

And I have heard the "enjoy the time now, because one day your kids will be grown and you'll have all the time you never wanted to clean". Which is just a lovely thought (can you hear the violins in the background?), but until that time I still need to clean my house, the littles will be doing their best to keep me in business that way, and I'll still wish I could get my husband to take them out for a couple of hours so I can clean the way I need to clean.

I don't see me getting over it. I don't see my husband ever understanding it. So I guess we'll just keep going on like we are, and I will actually look forward to when all the kids are in school so I can have those couple of hours. It is just one more year. One more year of trying to keep evil-mom-scrunchy-face out of the picture. Trying to keep the house passable enough to appease my husband. Trying to teach the kids that cleaning will not kill them...I might, but cleaning won't...and trying to keep in mind that cliche or not, I really will be sad when no one interrupts me anymore. When the messes get smaller, the kids get bigger, and when I wake up and realize that what I thought was evil-mom-scrunchy-face is actually my real face and I have no more excuses.

What a mess.

Monday Rambling on Sarcasm. Great.

2008-09-29T07:47:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a bit about sarcasm.

The whole concept of that method of communication...the skill one needs in order to be sarcastic and not make everyone around them angry. Or sad. Or take it completely personally and have any of a dozen reactions.

To me, sarcasm is an ornery sense of humor. It is usually a bit (a lot) negative, and it is a huge mockery of any given situation.

It is also usually used in my family way too much. My kids grow up with a strong sarcasm streak. Which is actually fine in some situations, but we have found that other people's children don't 'get' sarcasm. My kids end up saying something that would make an adult chuckle, but makes a peer of theirs frown.

Comedy is a big part of our family life and we have treated our kids as real people instead of "babies", so they seem to have picked up a good grasp of adult humor (fortunately not anything risque...but anything else doesn't get past them very often). We have had comments from teachers about all of our kids and their sense of humor...i.e. a first grade teacher telling us that she would make an "inside joke" in her lessons that she was sure would go over all of her student's heads, but would look up and see one of my kids laughing. She would at that point have to be more careful with her humoring herself in class when she found out that my kids 'got' her jokes.

So my kids are funny. They just are. Just last night we had home teachers over and the man giving the lesson asked what is "Be One". My nine year old son immediately popped off with "A number in bingo".

And then he laughed and laughed. (1. I need to be quicker, because honestly when he said that it took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about...and 2. I should also work on having the kids not laugh at their own jokes..they work better that way :) )

Sarcasm, however, is a whole different ball of wax. When you use sarcasm in a situation with people who appreciate a good sarcastic comment, it is great. When you use sarcasm around people who aren't good at picking up on sarcasm...or when you think you are being sarcastic but don't use the right intonations so it sounds like an insult and not a sarcastic comment--well, that can just be awkward.

My 14-year old daughter is my most sarcastic child. She has friends who appreciate it. And she has distant acquaintances who think she is rude. We need to work a bit on her delivery and timing with people like the latter...or get her to find her "off" switch so she can be a normal human with people who don't understand sarcasm or who haven't really been around it before.

I can see her sarcasm coming a mile away. If you know what to look for with her, you know to take the next phrase out of her mouth with a grain of salt. Her eyes narrow and she usually uses a slight hand gesture. And the sentence coming out usually begins with "Uh, ya...".

I've seen her make kids cry because of a sentence that started with those two words.

That usually means she failed in either the delivery or her ability to assess whether or not the person she was talking with could handle some sarcasm.

I will admit that I've never seen her use sarcasm on anyone undeserving of a little shake-up. But still. She needs to find a kind and gentle use for her sarcasm.

Good time to use sarcasm for her: Helping her sister learn how to make mac & cheese on her own...

"Uh, ya....some people probably like macaroni and cheese soup, but the rest of us read the directions on the back of the box and pay attention to the part right here that says "DRAIN"."

Bad time for her to use sarcasm: During a close soccer game after the other team scores a goal on us...to the goalie...

"Uh, ya...I think you were supposed to NOT let the ball go in the net. But maybe that's just me."

(Goalies don't have much of a sense of humor after they have to walk back and take a ball out of the net...but besides that, our goalie outweighs Kelly by 50 pounds and has a good 7 inches on her...you'd think self-preservation alone would keep her from yapping. But no).

Sarcasm is practically an art-form. You have to use the right tone with your voice, you have to try to quickly judge the situation and the people involved and hopefully be able to pull the sarcasm back if you find yourself wanting to say something but realize it would be a bad idea. It is subtle and blatant all at the same time.

Whatever that means.

Uh, ya...nice try on waxing philosophical with sarcasm. Good one. Really.

20 Year Reunions and the Sneetches

2008-09-26T07:43:00.000-07:00

My twenty-year high school reunion was a couple of years ago. I know I try to avoid blogging about things that age me, but there you have it.

I attended my 5-year reunion with a date. Everyone after five years still seemed the same. Same groups of people hanging out and talking about the other groups, no one losing their hair yet. Most still looking young and fit. It was held at the high school, and honestly if they had thrown up some tacky banners and more streamers, hired a photographer whose skill lay in taking the worst photos possible with a disco-ball thrown in for good measure, it would have felt like we'd never left. It would have been a high school 'stomp', but with better refreshments.

I attended my 10-year reunion with my husband. I had gone with him the year before to his 10-year reunion and had high hopes for fun and reminiscing--his reunion was fun and I didn't know anyone there at all. Mine was still filled with some clicks that refused to go away, and someone had the bright idea of showing the video montage of our senior year in high school for the highlight of the program. Apparently it was the idea of the people who were in every single scene. Not really the all encompassing love and feel-good situation for the majority of the folks who had paid money for a lousy dinner and lame entertainment. So, after 10 years people were still a little young. Still focused on self. But there were some balding heads and protruding bellies, which thrilled me--so you can see there that I was still my shallow self. :) The good news is that they held it in a resort instead of at the high school...but it did make it hard for the materialistic people to show off the make and model of car they drove up for the occasion....

There was no 15-year reunion--thank goodness.

For my 20-year reunion life had changed. For almost everyone. Suddenly who you were or who you knew didn't matter so much. A lot of people had to look at the name tag to place the face. Some looked the same as they did in high school. The rats. :)

But we could all sit at random tables--not knowing who you were sitting next to until you checked their name tag...and even then you might still not have a clue who they were...and it didn't matter. We could talk, converse, listen. We could share high school stories that even if they weren't directly involved, they understood and appreciated. They had been there. But it didn't matter if they were 'jocks', 'stoners', 'cowboys'...etc. back then. Today they are men and women who happened to have graduated from the same high school the same year I did. They have jobs and responsibilities. Kids. Spouses. Mortgages.

The whole evening was eye opening. I thought about my own kids who at the time would be starting high school in the very near future and thought that if I could teach them anything that would help them enjoy high school more, it would be for them to grasp the concept that clicks don't matter. People matter. If you see someone who needs a friend, BE a friend. It shouldn't matter if they wear a cowboy hat or have multiple piercings. Because in 20 years, these same people will look a lot like you. The clicks will be gone. But they will remember a friend.

In my "deep" pondering I realized Dr. Seuss was a genius. (And in looking for a picture online, I found that I wasn't the only one to think of this line...confirming that I'm NOT all that deep and philosophical...) I'm talking about his story about the Sneetches--you know the one. Star-bellied sneetches and those without "stars on thars"...They all thought having a star on their belly made them better than those without. Until the Mr. McBean and his machine came along and put stars on the bellies of those who didn't have them before, which made the star-bellied sneetches upset so they had theirs removed--and the cycle continued until no one could remember who had a star and who didn't. (Well, and they ran out of money...so they couldn't continue the insanity :) )

But they realized that star or no star, they were really a lot alike. They could accept each other as is. Star. No star.

It is like high school. The goths aren't bad people. The nerds are worth getting to know for more than homework help. The jocks can actually carry a conversation with real words and not just grunts and sports plays. The "in" crowd has down moments just like every other kid on the planet. In other words, star or no star, we all have thoughts, feelings, wants, and needs. And we all need a friendly face and someone who will accept us for who we are.

Because 20 years from now the 'stars' won't matter.

If I could teach that to my kids now, it wouldn't take 20 years for them to figure that out. I can't imagine that being a bad thing.

The Power of Pudding

2008-09-05T08:27:00.000-07:00

As I type this blog, I am taking five minutes out of my housecleaning schedule to test a theory.

The theory? What are three four-year olds willing to do for a Snack Pack pudding?

All of my older kids are in school, so I get to try to keep the littles busy/entertained/exhausted in order to keep them out of trouble. Or attempt that seemingly impossible task anyway.

So I have just informed them that if they clean the tv room, they can have a pudding.

They are now "folding" blankets and picking up their toys. (To be 100% honest, they are doing those things between bouts of throwing plastic toys at each other--thus the pause in cleaning while they cry and come tell me about it--whining, and using the bathroom).

Apparently I have not only taught them how to clean, but how to do anything else EXCEPT clean. (My typing here is proof of that...I'm avoiding it too)

Let me update their progress and get back to you............

Um. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

The youngest 4 year old has just jammed a video into the VCR the wrong way. The oldest 4 year old is gazing longingly at the pudding in the pantry. And the middle 4 year old is back in the bathroom hoping for a longer break in the action.

[sigh] I guess that means I get to go help them finish the job.

It was a good theory. They did their best, and it kept them out of major trouble (well, unless I can't get the video unstuck....).

I will have to stock up on the pudding and we'll keep at it until they either get the whole idea of keeping things clean--or they grow out of the pudding bribery stage and move on to cold hard cash....

Classics

2008-08-28T12:28:00.000-07:00

Unneeded background info: I coach a competition soccer team (girls U14) and drive my daughter and three other girls to practice each week.

Point of the background: During these drives, undoubtedly the girls will get into an arguement about which actor is the "hottest".

Why? One of the girls is a H-U-G-E fan of Johnny Depp, and another of the girls thinks Depp is the exact opposite of hot. I think they all get a kick out of the one defending Johnny and the other bashing him openly.

Now, in all fairness for this war, the one who doesn't like Johnny Depp is a superheros fan--she likes all actors who played Superman, Spiderman, etc. And the Depp stalker thinks that anyone who would wear tights to his job needs some serious help. (She does admit though that should Johnny wear tights, she would be more than fine with that. :) )

The conversation this past Tuesday turned to "Well, if you don't like Johnny Depp (or Christopher Reeve, etc.) who DO you like?

The girls all named some guys who surprised me (guys I agreed with) and some who I had never heard of (which made me feel old).

Surprisingly, the superhero fan mentioned one of my all time favorites..and it surprised me because of the fact that this guy is older than MY time, so I didn't think an even younger generation would mention him. But in thinking it over I realized that some actors are just flat out classics. Timeless. Some come and go, but others are going to always be revered as someone a little special. Who can make hearts beat a little faster long after they have passed on.

Here he is. I don't think I need to mention his name.

Favorite movies? I love 'An Affair to Remember', 'Bringing Up Baby', 'The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer'....

I will watch any movie he is in.

Some people say that George Clooney is the new Cary Grant.

I like George just fine.

But there is no one like Cary Grant.

If you have any timeless actors you'd like to add, please leave a comment. Current actors, actors who have passed on...

I'm fairly certain my 15 y.o. daughter would add Harrison Ford, and my mom would probably add Elvis to the mix.

But scroll back up and look at that face. Remember a movie you have seen him in.

[sigh]

Classic.

Moving Siblings

2008-08-13T14:20:00.000-07:00

I am the oldest of six kids. All of us were fairly close--there is a span of only 7 years between me and my youngest sister--and we all basically ended up married and living in the same general valley where we grew up.

Before marrying, four of us went away to college--our first living away from home scenario.

Those same four also served missions for our church, so we had the opportunity to get out of our valley and taste a bit of independence before we found our respective spouses and married.

When my 2nd sister moved out of State with her husband for her work, I was happy for her because she was one who stayed in the valley for college and didn't serve a mission. So I knew that even though she has always been the more mature sister--even 3 years younger than me--I knew that getting away from the valley with her husband would be a good move for them. It would help her grow and learn things you can only learn when you leave the comfort of your extended family and have to rely more on yourself and your spouse to make things work.

She has since moved back to our State and lives about 15 minutes away from our mom and dad.

Same thing happened when the sister who is 19 months younger than I am moved to the other end of the State...far enough away to learn those same things--she moved to the town where the other four of us went to college, so I was also a bit jealous of that move. I love it where she moved. Now she lives in a different State even further away than before, and because of the type of work her husband does, I don't see her moving back to this State. Which is a bummer if truth be told. It's weird, because even if she lived in the same town I do it wouldn't guarantee I'd see her more often. I'd like to think I would, but life gets crazy. I think it would only make me feel better because I would know that we COULD see each other if we wanted. I could sign her up and make her play soccer with me so I'm not the only old fart playing co-ed soccer...:)

One of my youngest sisters moved out of State a couple of years ago and that was weird because even though she is 7 years younger than me--which actually makes her a bonafide adult to the rest of the world--I still think of her and her twin sister as 14, so for her to be married and the mom of four kids is shocking enough without adding in the bonus of her actually having the nerve to move 6 hours away.

And now as of a couple of weeks ago, my dearest onliest brother has taken his cute family and moved not only out of State, but across the country. He is proof that if a sibling lives in your same town it doesn't guarantee you'll ever really see them...they had been living not even 5 minutes from me and we really only saw each other when passing on info. etc. from our parents. Which is sad, really.

And the saddest part is that it shows that cliches are cliches for a reason--no one would say "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" unless millions of us do exactly that.

So now my brother and two of my sisters live out of State. And while I'm happy for them since the moves seem to be the best for them, I'm bummed for myself. (Since it is really all about me ;) )

Taking advantage of having family around is something I apparently haven't learned--even after going away to college and serving a mission. Taking people you love for granted isn't a very nice thing for me to do. I do the same thing with friends...so my family doesn't need to feel that kind of special. I'm lame on all sorts of levels.

I don't really think about siblings being out of reach until we have family gatherings or events and I catch myself looking around my mom's house wondering where so-and-so are and then realizing that they actually won't be there.

They will miss out on Mom's early Thanksgiving dinner of roast, having all the cousins getting to know each other, catching up on the mountains of meaningless gossip and sometimes inappropriate topics of conversation (I'll save that explanation for a different blog--something to look forward to :) )...

And we (I) will miss out on seeing their kids grow, having them have any idea who we really are...my kids will hear about a cousin of theirs and ask "Who is that?". Granted, with mom having 28 grandkids, my kids might say that anyway...but still. I'm trying to make a point here. We will miss out on their special occasions, and they will probably not actually miss the meaningless gossip and inappropriate conversations.

I'm going to have to actually put myself out and be a normal human being who remembers birthdays and sends Christmas cards in order to stay connected to my siblings. It will probably be good for me. Make me grow and progress into becoming someone decent.

So thanks for moving and making me be a better person. (Because remember--it really IS all about me...)

But if you don't mind, I'll keep on missing you guys anyway.

And that has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with what great people you guys are.

I love you.

(Even Brian ) :)

Things I Wish

2008-08-10T18:13:00.000-07:00

I wish chocolate was a diet food. Man, I would look smokin' hot....

I wish my house was always as clean as it is when I know I'm having company stay over. Enough said.

I wish my kids minded me the first time. Not the twenty-third time--if I'm lucky.

I wish I had snappy comebacks for all occasions. Not snappy comebacks an hour after it would have been useful.

I wish I were as funny as I think I am...but I'm positive real comedians probably don't make themselves laugh harder than those hearing the jokes....

I wish I were more smarter. :)

I wish my suburban got 36 miles to the gallon. Instead of 36 miles to the tank.

I wish I had a better memory--but then I would probably hold grudges, so I'll have to think about that one for awhile...

I wish there really were time machines. But there were wacky restrictions, like you could only use it three (round trip) times in your lifetime and couldn't change anything major...it would be fun to go make different choices now with hindsight and all. You couldn't change life or death situations, but maybe you could go be nicer to someone who you find out later has a difficult life. Or maybe work a little harder on your mission, or grades, or friendships. Or maybe just go back to re-live something that was perfect but that you aren't 100% clear on anymore, like your wedding day or a family vacation, or whatever.

I wish I knew where the book I'm trying to write is going. I really should work harder on that.

I wish this blog wasn't so lame. I am in something of a rut I guess, but that's what wishes are for, right?

Just some ramblings for you.

I am consistent. Remember that. :)

Crazy Family Ramblings Today

2008-08-06T13:13:00.000-07:00

I won't apologize for my ramblings today...mostly because I don't feel like apologizing.

So there. :)

First up for the big ramble is that today my newest nephew Dylan had heart surgery yesterday. He was born on August 1st and is a doll. He was born with truncus (sp??) and if you go to my sister Cindy's blog site you can see photos of him and figure out what his heart issue is. Go there. To her site. He is a cute baby and she will probably keep everyone updated...

So yesterday was a worry day. Which is probably why I'm in full ramble mode.

My other worry yesterday was my 15 y.o. daughter trying out for the high school soccer team. She made first cuts and yesterday was the last day to tryout before final cuts and then the roster getting posted. Luckily for everyone involved, tryouts ended at 5:30 and the coach was going to post the results online around 7, so with travel time back home and then my daughter showering, we only had to fret for about an hour before she got the good news that she made the team.

My daughter squeals when she is excited. At a really high pitched frequency. I had no idea.

I'm glad I don't have to find out what would have happened if she hadn't made the team this go around...

For tonight, I had my second to last DCFS training class (for foster care licensing). Hallelujah. 32 hours of training is not my idea of a good time. Not when you realize that if you had just kept your license current--even if you didn't want to foster for a bit--that I would have only had to take 12 hours of training spread out over 12 months instead of 32 hours jammed into one month.

So I sit through the classes that I have already taken before and listen to random people make comments to the teacher just to hear themselves speak. And of course I am thinking the whole time that if they would just shut their yap we could get out early and still get full credit. Which then starts my mind wandering through the comedian Brian Regan's routines and I have to force myself to not laugh out loud for no apparent reason.

Of course, being the crazy one in class might have benefits...I should have figured that out on the first day instead of waiting until the end...:)

So to end my rambling, here is some Brian Regan for you to enjoy. I'm not smart enough to figure out how to post the youtube directly here, so check out the link and then do yourself a favor and take the time to watch some of his other clips:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9m2FLHlEwA

Who Knew What Making a Sandwich Means?

2008-08-01T13:11:00.000-07:00

I have created a monster.

My 4 1/2 year old daughter asked me the other day if she could make her own peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Make it all by herself. Because she is fairly certain that she is a 'big girl now'.

So, what the heck. Right? I let her make her own sandwich. She did a lovely job. Only got a few streaks of peanut butter on the table...and the side of the jar...and her hair...but overall quite well done for a rookie sandwich maker.

The problem?

She is now convinced that she IS a big girl. After all, if you can provide sustenance for yourself without relying on an adult, that must mean something.

Now she is asking me all day long if she can make herself a pb&j sandwich. Breakfast, lunch and dinner.

And she tells me she is certain she can now walk to the park by herself. You know, because she is big now.

And--this is my personal favorite-- calling to me from the bathroom and saying "Hey Mom! Since I'm a big girl now, I'm pretty sure I can wipe my own bottom."

'Pretty sure' isn't very settling in the minds of this mother....and for good reason, but I won't go into that here. (you can thank me for that later).

Until this week, I had no idea that being able to make your own peanut butter and jelly sandwich meant so much.

It means a few more messes for me to clean up while she learns and becomes more confident.

It means having a little girl bursting with happiness at something as simple as making sure the jelly gets all the way to the edges of the bread. Practically a work of art.

It means wishing sometimes that a little girl would stay little just awhile longer.

Everyone Should Experience the 4th of July in Evanston, WY

2008-07-10T08:39:00.000-07:00

At least once.

Why? That's a hard question to answer in a simple manner. So I'll stick to what I know and ramble through the answer. :)

To start the story I need to begin a few days before the 4th. My husband was excited that he would have Friday off for the 4th so we had a long weekend ahead of us. He wasn't excited about the fact that we had no plans at all for anything out of the ordinary to do over the long weekend, so he told the family that we should discuss amongst ourselves some ideas and we would hold a family meeting when he got off of work that night and decide what to do together.

The littles like anything, so we didn't ask their opinion. My 15 year old simply didn't want to go out on the boat again--for reasons we still don't understand. And everyone else was pretty much up for anything that involved not having to stay home to weed or mow the lawn.

After some debate we finally decided that we would go to Evanston, Wyoming to see their rodeo on the 4th and catch a fireworks show afterwards.

Why a rodeo? Because I told my husband that when I was younger my dad used to always take us to rodeos and I loved them, but we had only been to maybe two rodeos in the whole 17 years of marriage. Our 8 year old and the younger kids have never been to a rodeo, and our 10 year old was too young when she went to remember anything about a rodeo at all.

Why Evanston? Honestly, because all of the local rodeos were already sold out.

Evanston is only 70 miles outside of Salt Lake City, so it wouldn't be a long drive. We called ahead and got a hotel reservation, packed up the car, loaded in the kids, dropped the poodles off at my folks house and then started on our way.

Here is what we learned as a side bonus: My 15 year old daughter has the capacity to practically inhale the largest fajita burrito I have ever seen in my life. I was impressed. We had unloaded the car at the hotel and then left to find a place to eat dinner. Don Pedro's Family Mexican Restaurant was conveniently located just across the street from the rodeo grounds and they served excellent food.

After eating we made our way over to the rodeo. I won't go into a lot of detail about the rodeo at this time, but I will say that my 8 year old is NOT good at the 'Chicken Run'--he can't catch a chicken to save his life. It does make for some good comedy though. Maybe not for the chicken..

Now. To get to the 4th of July experience in Wyoming, let me preface it by reminding you (or letting you know) that Wyoming has completely different fireworks laws than most States. The big "illegal" fireworks are not illegal in Wyoming.

While watching the rodeo we were on the top bleachers facing toward the hills and a small subdivision that lay just past the rodeo grounds. Behind us was the city of Evanston.

The people in the subdivision began setting off fireworks about an hour or so before dark. So we pleasantly enjoyed watching calf roping, bull riding, and bronc bustin', while also being treated to a lovely fireworks display.

During this time I began to wonder where we were going to have to go to see the actual fireworks show after the rodeo.

The answer to that? Just turn around and look at Evanston. Anywhere in Evanston.

The entire town purchased tons of fireworks. It was the most amazing sight I have seen in a long, long time. Everywhere you looked fireworks were shimmering and popping. The whole valley was one giant fireworks display. The colors and flash surrounded the city. When we ran inside Walmart to grab some beverages, you could hear the booming sounds of the fireworks. When we went outside into the Walmart parking lot, we saw cars parked there with people standing outside their vehicles simply to get a better view--and many of those cars had out of state license plates, so we aren't unique in choosing Evanston as a July 4th destination.

Neighborhoods were lined on every street with people in their lawn chairs both watching the light show and adding to it.

Church parking lots were full, and whole congregations sat on the lawns watching as they all set off fireworks and more fireworks.

When every street in a town has dozens of large fireworks going off, you can't help but be impressed with the magnitude of the exhibition. It was like one giant fireworks show finale that lasted more than two hours.

It was breathtaking.

So much so that we are already planning on going there again next year. And this time we will shake out of our fireworks stupor and get the camera out of the bag and take photos.

The next morning as we passed back through town on our way home, we saw people sweeping and shoveling up piles and piles of spent fireworks. Dumpsters were full. Kids were working hard to clean up the aftermath. But no one seemed to mind the work.

Trust me...after the show we saw, it would be well worth a few hours of clean up the next morning.

If any of you find yourselves wanting to do something different for the 4th of July, I recommend a trip to Wyoming. Not something I ever thought I would actually say to anyone, to be honest. But this was an amazing discovery. A beautiful end to a patriotic day of celebration for our country.

Blog Book Tour For You All to Check Out

2008-07-09T20:40:00.000-07:00

My friend Danyelle has written a blog interview with author J. Scott Savage on her blogsite.

If you go here you will see the post in its entirety AND will see where you have a chance to enter her contest at a shot at a free copy of his new YA novel.

Go look. It is worth the effort. :)

Food Network Idea

2008-07-08T20:01:00.000-07:00

So as I was scrounging through my pantry looking for something to make for dinner, I had a brilliant idea...

(And if this is already something they have done, ignore my post and move on please...)

What if the Food Channel had a show entitled "Iron Chef Joe Shmoe" (or the equivalent). It would be a series where two people who have absolutely ZERO training in the culinary skills compete against each other for an hour long battle.

No actual Iron Chefs would be used...the series would be for a set number of weeks and the winner of the night would move on to the next week to face another challenger. OR, they could run it like a tournament and have winners compete against winners until there is an ultimate Iron Chef Joe Shmoe for that season.

One of the keys here would be that the items available for their use would be everyday items a normal (read non-cordon bleu chef) would have in their cupboards...canned vegetables, boxed mac and cheese, Velveeta...you get the idea. Don't forget the microwave as a must-have. A grill to barbecue with--not the grill on the range, because what fun is it in that?, maybe a dutch oven or two...

The only thing the contestant couldn't do that you would normally see in an everyday situation, is order pizza or other take-out items and have them delivered to the studio. Trust me. That one has to be in the contract or someone will pull that one.

I think it would be a hilarious show. Can you imagine the faces on the judges when they get some mystery meat placed in front of them? Or the shudders as they try something no sane human would put near their mouth? Of course, there would also be the hugely surprised look as they bite into something green and unidentifiable and find it tastes quite good.

And speaking of the judges...they couldn't be actual food critics. The Joe Shmoes know they aren't top chefs and don't need some snooty person telling them that while they admire their ingenuity, they couldn't possibly score higher than a 1 because those spices were never meant to be in the same dish. Blah, blah, blah.

Nope. The judges should be 3 fold--the first guy (or gal) should be some (un)lucky passer-by in the street or in the studio audience...the second person should be any celebrity that is crazy enough to accept the job, likable, and is preferably a bit larger around the middle--someone like Kevin James. Not a health conscious type. That would be just as bad as a food critic. You need someone who will actually EAT the food. The third person could be a viewer who won the opportunity to taste potentially lethal food on tv.

I think it would be a big hit. I would watch it. I love watching Iron Chef and Iron Chef America, and sometimes think it would be fun to try some of their dishes...but seriously. Who in everyday-America uses fois gras to feed their family?

Tagged! A Closer Look...

2008-07-06T19:43:00.000-07:00

Okay. I knew I shouldn't have looked at Danyelle's site. She even warned me that she tagged me...

1. My Kitchen Sink

We just finished dinner, and I am totally out of dish washing detergent--so if I waited until tomorrow morning it would look even worse than this...

2. Inside My Fridge

Not a lot to look at. I need to go grocery shopping too, but we just got back in town late last night and I haven't had a chance to restock. Note the KFC bucket though. I figure that makes a nice, colorful touch...

3. My Favorite Shoes

If Danyelle can choose more than one pair, so can I...The shoes on the left aren't much to look at--just scuffed worn black loafers, but I got them on my mission and they are both comfortable and sentimental. The middle are my newest addition, and the shoes on the right are my indoor soccer shoes.

4. My Closet--and 5. My Laundry Pile

Okay, I admit to more cheating here...this is my closet, and on the floor is my laundry pile. I refuse to take a photo of the laundry pile in my laundry room. I have a door to my laundry room for the express purpose of being able to shut it and not have anyone see it. :) If you don't let this pass go, I'll take a photo of the laundry room on Tuesday after I've had a couple more days to find the floor....:) For those of you who I tag at the end of this...go to Danyelle's site and see the way it is supposed to look...

6. What My Kids Are Doing Right Now

The top photo is of the three littles running through the front sprinklers--which I actually was unaware was happening until I took the camera and went looking for them.

The bottom photo is the rest of the gang--including my husband on the one couch, and one of the poodles on the back of the chair. They are all watching "I Am Legend".

7.My Favorite Room

Sort of another cheat. I like my living room. I like my new main light we just put in above the entry there. I like the dark (brick) red paint we painted that wall, and the white trim. It is a comfortable room. However, this room is the 'catch-all' after our trip and I haven't put everything away yet, so showing you the rest of the room--couches, coffee table, etc.--is out of the question. Seriously. I'm not even sure you could find the couch at this point....

8. My Recent Purchase

This is in my outside fridge. We bought a case of water on the way home from our trip yesterday.

9. My Fantasy Vacation

WITH kids, I'd take them back to DisneyWorld for two weeks this time, and throw in the Disney Cruise. We LOVE DisneyWorld.

With just my hubby, we've talked about going to Iceland...warm water springs, Icelandic horses, geysers, beautiful scenery...and you don't hear about a ton of people going there. They DO go there...but it isn't the typical vacation spot for most people I know.

10. A Self-Portrait

Note the new hairstyle. I guess if you don't know the OLD hairstyle, this photo means nothing to you. :) Just add 8 inches and a straightening iron, and you've got it.

Now--I get to tag :) This is the fun part.
I choose Cindy, Stacey, and Aimee :)

What We Perceive

2008-07-01T07:10:00.000-07:00

I'm getting my haircut today. I will be leaving in a short while to drive 45 minutes to get my haircut by a nice Argentine man named Oscar, because 1. Oscar is a most excellent hairdresser, and 2. My mom is tired enough of looking at my mess of a current hairstyle that she is willing to pay Oscar's outrageous prices for me. (Which is why I haven't cut my hair for over a year--I don't trust a lot of stylists, but I can't justify Oscar's pricing very often--and my hair hasn't bugged my mom enough until now for her to volunteer. :) )

My whole build-up for this blog is to reflect a bit on what we perceive as reality, and what actually IS.

For example, today I am fully optimistic that Oscar will take me into his skilled hands and work miracles with his scissors. I will come out looking younger and thinner. And that is him just working on my hair--no scissor work anywhere else. ;)

In reality, I will come out of his overpriced salon with my mom poorer and my head lighter. I might lose weight in there, but it will be because of the volume of hair he removes. NOT because I would be in need of a new wardrobe to fit my now-svelte body. If Oscar could really make people look younger and thinner with a haircut, he could charge ten times what he does and still have a line around the block with women wanting to sit in his chair.

Have you ever looked in the mirror after going to a little extra trouble with your makeup and clothing and thought "Man, I look good." Maybe fought the urge to give yourself the 'gun' and a wink...?

I have. Okay, maybe not the gun and the wink part--but certainly a turning of the head to catch different angles and make sure I wasn't missing something.

And then, have you had someone take your photo and you see it and suddenly you wonder if you have trick mirrors in your bathroom because you are certain you didn't look like that 5 minutes ago when you had your finger on the trigger and were forcing back the wink that you are fairly sure would have looked more like a twitch if the photo is anything to go by?

Where did that extra weight come from? Someone let me leave the house wearing THAT?

Gun, shmun...someone shoot me now.

Not only do I get caught thinking that I'm more attractive than reality would show, but I also have a youth complex.

I see someone who is younger than I am and I am sure I don't look that old.

Hint to those with teenagers....DON'T ask them if you look older or younger than someone you think must look older. You'll actually get the truth. Well, if you have my daughter you will get a deer-in-the-headlights look as she wonders frantically if telling you the truth will dock her allowance or get her grounded...but the result is the same.

So you see why I am now convinced that I will go into Oscar's chair with too high of expectations and come out briefly thinking that I have gained what all vain women want--youth and beauty--I will think people are checking me out. Wishing that they looked this good.

Then I will get home to reality, where the best comment will be "Your hair is shorter". I will try my hardest to remember to let it go at that and not press for more data.

I like my fantasy.

Reality pops up frequently enough to keep me humble and a bit cranky, but in another flash of dreaming I will just chalk the crankiness up to 'unpredictable' or 'mysterious' and then stay away from mirrors and cameras--and 15 year old daughters--for the rest of the day.

The Jinx of the 'Know-It-All' Parent

2008-06-13T07:14:00.000-07:00

You know what I'm talking about, don't you?

The jinx where, when you are young and have no children you are quick to judge a person's parenting ability--"When I have kids, MY child will NEVER behave like that", or "Did you see what they are feeding their kid?? Don't they care at all about health and nutrition?".

And then, suddenly you find yourself married with children. Sitting in a church pew trying to look nonchalant as your out-of-control (or, rambunctious if you prefer...and I think I do) child is climbing over the back, making faces at the congregation behind you and throwing crayons 12 rows back--while you shove the 4th dum-dum sucker into the mouth of the crying baby and vow to never say anything bad about the parenting skills of others ever, ever again.

From that point on, you still judge. It is human nature. You just do it less vocally and hope (pray) that the jinx won't come back to haunt you.

Why? Because now that you are a young mother you focus your attention to parents with teenagers. In your mind you see the boy who refuses to go to scout camps or youth conferences and you wonder why the parent won't insist--because you know that those activities will undoubtedly have experiences that will strengthen the testimony of that boy. Or you see the parent who is thrilled that their fifteen year old daughter has a boyfriend, and you vow--in your head as you look frantically around for wood to knock--that YOUR daughter will not be serious with a boy until she is 25. And if by some jinxed reason she does fall madly in love at 17 and thinks she is old enough to be married, you swear you will be more likely to lock her in her room until said age of 25 instead of welcoming the idea with a genuine smile.

I watch happenings around me...parenting issues of people I know and those of strangers...and I get genuinely frightened of the future.

Not because I don't think my kids will make correct choices--I always give them the benefit of the doubt, and while I know mistakes will be made I am mostly confident that they will prevail--But because I have thought the opposite and am terrified that I have just jinxed them all to a life of horrible mistakes that will come back to haunt me.

And because I will probably end up giving younger mothers a whole truckload of something to jinx their own children with. :)

This Killed Me

2008-06-12T11:12:00.000-07:00

Officially Summer Break

2008-06-05T12:34:00.000-07:00

Summer vacation. It was my favorite time of year when I was a kid, and not much has changed. It is one of the weird reasons why I am not a fan of year-round school...kids don't get a 'normal' summer break. Every kid should get summers off. It must be some sort of rite of passage, right?

I like not having school. Not having to wake kids up and drag them out of bed to get ready. Not having to worry about homework getting done, or signing notes, or getting calls from teachers because my 8 y.o. son is a talker who forgets to raise his hand, and my 10 y.o. daughter has enough of a sarcastic sense of humor and timing that she makes the kids in class laugh and not pay attention to the teacher.

Speaking of which, one would assume that it would be the boy who "innocently" rips out a huge belch in the middle of a math test and then without so much as a smirk says "Oh, sorry." But no. It was the girl. She thought she was hilarious, and apparently so did all other students within three zip codes who heard the sooo unlady-like sound. The teacher? Not so much.

I like kids sleeping in.

I like watching them run through the sprinklers in the yard.

I like them staying out later because the sun is still up at 9 p.m.

I like supplying the neighborhood with flavored ice pops.

I like sitting in the shade after working in the yard..the smell of fresh cut lawn, and lemonade.

I like the sounds of the ice cream truck.

I like water skiing--but not snow skiing, which is weird since I live in Utah near ski resorts.

I'm a fan of camping and fishing. But not the scout snow cave camping, so summer is fine.

(Apparently I'm not a fan of cold weather...)

I like not having carpools to school.

I like not having to feel guilty because I don't go volunteer in the classroom like I wish I could

I like not having to say the phrase "Go ask your Dad" when asked if I can help with math homework

There is a lot to like about summer break. Loved it as a kid, and I love it now.

And two months from now I might be singing a different tune...looking forward to sending them back to school.

But I don't think so. :)

Are You an Eight Cow Wife?

2008-06-03T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about this lately.

Most of you know the story of Johnny Lingo...how he paid 8 cows for his bride, when 2-3 was good, 4-5 was for a super wife, and most of the tribe found his bride plain and not worth even the 2 or 3 cows that was more typical. They laughed at him, and thought he was crazy to give that much for her...but ultimately the laugh was on them when he brought her back a few months later to visit the village and she was breathtakingly beautiful. A wife any one of them would have been proud to have, and they all changed their tunes and realized Johnny must really be some kind of genius.

When asked about it later he said that the reason why he paid 8 cows for her was because he loved her. But more than that, he wanted an eight cow wife. How we treat others--how we let them see how much we appreciate or love them--seriously affects their treatment or reaction to us, or to those around them.

Here are some questions I've been knocking around:

Are you an eight cow wife/husband/human? For ease of writing, I'll stick to having this be about married couples...go ahead and adjust it to your own situation since it is relevant to many different relationships.

What does it take to be an eight cow wife? (And don't say a husband who actually HAS 8 cows to begin with...work with me here).

What does it take to become an eight cow wife if you aren't there yet?

Why would you even want to BE an eight cow wife?

Only you can answer that first question, so go ahead and think about it. But in order to assess that, you have to know more about what an eight cow wife is. This is probably personal to each of you too, so in MY opinion, an eight cow wife is someone who is secure in her relationship with her spouse. She knows he loves her and cherishes her. Knows that her opinion matters to him and that he will stand by her through adversity, sickness, health, richer--poorer--you get the idea there.

Do you see that in your relationship? Hold that thought for later...

The 2nd question is personal too. But there are probably some basics that can put all of us on the path to bovine bounty. Think about these questions for this subject:
How are you treating your spouse? Can you expect him to be thrilled to see you when he comes home from work if the minute he walks in you are scowling and complaining? Do you stay positive and supportive? Do you tell him that you appreciate him? Love him? Do you take time for any type of affection? Even if it is holding hands in the car, or sneaking a kiss in the kitchen? Do you really listen to your spouse?

Honestly, how responsive would you be if you came home to Queen-of-the-Porcupines and then were expected to be loving and kind towards her? I'd be avoiding that area of the house until the flames coming out the ears were only steam blasts...but I am not sure I'd want to test it very often to see if the fire was out yet.. Scathing remarks, simply a bad attitude, expecting perfection...those are all things that would make the cow count go down. And that is not what we are looking for here.

The 3rd question ties into that one. What do you do to become an eight cow wife if you aren't there yet?

Well, don't hate me, but you know those silly e-mails you get that tell you how women in the '50's were taught to be wives and mothers? You know the one--the one that says you should freshen up before your husband comes home, have dinner on the table, don't talk about your awful day because he has had a hard day too, clean up the kids so they look nice for him--remember that one? I know people mock that, but there are some truths there. Even if you live in a two-income family.

I'm not saying you have to go June Cleaver on me here. What I am saying is that if we put more effort into looking nice for each other, speaking kindly to one another, trying not to complain about every little thing that has happened to you that day, listening to each other, trying to keep the house picked up a bit so that your atmosphere isn't sucking the life out of any good mood that is trying to exist (and if you know me, you'll know that that last one isn't easy for me even a little...I'm not the world's best housekeeper, but the feeling in our house is calmer when I've taken the time to straighten up a little...granted, I have to do that late at night when the kids are in bed so that I don't completely lose it when the littles destroy my efforts in 5 seconds...), if we try to do all that, then I know our spouses will respond positively. And when they are happy and positive they are more free with their praises and compliments which in turn makes us feel more happy and positive--we begin to feel wanted and loved and that, my friends, increases our cow potential.

4th--again, this can only be answered by you--do you want to BE an 8 cow wife? If you say no, then I sincerely hope it is because you are shooting for a ten cow wife.

Why wouldn't you want to be an eight cow wife? It won't matter how you look, how you talk, how you cook, how you merge onto the freeway during rush hour. Your spouse will love you and cherish you. And all because you have shown love and caring towards him. Funny thing that. You can become an eight--or nine--or ten--cow wife, simply by letting your husband know he is important to you. By showing consideration, love, gratitude...it makes him an eight cow husband and he won't even know it. He will simply return the favor in kind, because it is seriously hard to belittle, dislike, or ignore someone who genuinely cares for you.

So go back to that first question...the part I told you to hold for later...well, it is later and I hope that one makes more sense to you now. I hope you see things in your relationship that lead toward the eight cow scenario instead of the corner butcher shop.

The good news is that if you are in a two cow relationship, you have the ability to turn it into a whole herd of fun by being a good person. By treating your spouse in exactly the same way you hope to be treated.

So here is to all you eight cow people--and you potential eight cow people.

May you bless those around you with good humor, positive attitude, and kitchen kisses.

Poll Over

2008-05-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

Not a giant turn out on numbers, but then I don't really advertise my site...

Looks like #4 was the "winner". If you can call it that. :)

Personally I kind of liked #2, but you can see how that went.

I'm itching to write, so maybe I will come up with some good blogs in the next couple of days.

But not tonight. Tonight I am tired.

Spending the previous evening at Primary Children's ER can do that to a person. My 8 y.o. son is now the proud owner of one very broken arm. Helped out to that situation by his 13 y.o. sister. I think he will ponder the decision of trying to kick his sister a bit before attempting that one again. She grabbed his foot and he lost his balance and fell on his arm. It isn't a good story to tell. Not like 'I did it skiing', or 'I was hunting wild boar and it attacked me'. Not nice manly type stories like those.

No, my son gets to say he tried to kick his sister and she won.

On the plus side for him, his sister feels so guilty about it that she is using her allowance to buy him candy bars and other bribery items to make him forgive her. :)

Anyway....[yawn, stretch...]

I'm going on about 3 hours of sleep now. So writing anything coherent is probably too much to ask, so I will write more tomorrow.

Read the "Seriously..." Post For the #4 Explanation

2008-05-19T13:16:00.000-07:00

Then vote.

And leave comments.

:)

#4

2008-05-19T12:06:00.000-07:00

The wind caused more trouble with anyone who might be trying to calm a frantically beating heart than previously thought possible.

A loose shutter banged loudly on the side of the old house, increasing the heartrate another notch and causing the woman hiding in the deep shadows of the bushes lining the front of the house to feel sure that she had just lost another year of life. She had just begun to get used to the strange howling sound that came from the wind blowing through the six foot vinyl privacy gate that was behind her, not to mention the creaking noise it made as the wind pushed harder and harder against it as it picked up intensity, but that shutter knocking was new and it was starting to get downright creepy.

Dressed head to toe in black, dark hair pulled back from her face in a tight ponytail, the woman used her gloved finger to push back her sleeve and check the faint glowing hands on her watch to check the time.

One in the morning.

Great.

He was supposed to have been here by now. Why can't lying, cheating, worthless, scum sucking...weasles at least have the decency to be a little more predictible?

The woman shifted uncomfortably and then leaned forward to reach under herself in order to remove a very hard and pointy rock from her seat on the ground.

Stakeouts always seemed so glamorous in the movies and in books. Even sitting in a car in the middle of the night with nothing but stale donuts and a cola to keep her company would be better than sitting on the freezing, rocky ground in the bushes at the home of her only client's latest obsession.

Her client was a controlling, manipulative jerk who hired her to follow other controlling, manipulative jerks in order to find out everything on them before taking over their companies. She was fairly certain the information she gathered was used as blackmail of sorts, but she justified her involvement by talking herself into the fact--grey area though it was--that this was the only human on the planet who was as desperate for information as she was for a job. That, and all she did was take some photos, check the internet for public information on the person she was following, and then hand over everything to her client to do with as he wished.

And then she would collect a very large check for her services and pray that someone else would hire her for her private investigative work, or that her only client would suddenly need someone else followed before she was evicted from her apartment. Usually the latter happened.

Okay. Always the latter happened.

This time the object of her investigation was a man who her client wanted to know everything about for seemingly personal reasons. He hinted at a family tie, but he wanted to make sure that the skeleton's in this new guy's closet weren't too big to overcome. Or maybe he really wanted to know if the skeletons were too small to benefit his motives.

Whatever they were.

Sometimes she wished she knew more about the motivations of her client. But usually when she felt that way she quickly reminded herself that she was not as objective when it started to become personal, and she would stop thinking so hard and just get the job done.

In her internet search on the new guy, she had pulled up quite the social spreadsheet. A mover and a shaker, this guy seemed to be suave in all areas. Business and personal. She had rarely found a photo of him with the same woman. And she could tell by his wardrobe that he didn't buy off the rack.

She also thought he looked like a slick weasle, so she had started calling him that. Weasle. It fit. He had shifty eyes and a pointy chin. But money talks, so it seems that all the beautiful women that draped themselves on his arm for publicity photos didn't mind in the least that he resembled a large rodent. Money talks. Which was why she was sitting in the bushes with a numb backside at one in the morning.

The sound of a car pulling into the drive had the woman pulling back further into the darkness. She heard the shutting of two car doors, followed by a flirtatious giggle and the deep rumbling sound of a man's voice in reply. She peeked through the bushes and brought her night vision camera up and focused on the couple as they walked together up the walk toward the front door.
She started snapping photos silently, focusing in on the weasle's face and that of his latest conquest, proud of herself for being able to take photos and roll her eyes at the same time, when she suddenly saw movement from the street and watched in shocked horror as two gunmen came running up to the house toward weasle and his date who hadn't seen them yet.

She swung her camera around by instinct and kept taking photos, knowing somehow that if anyone knew she was there watching she would be in serious, serious trouble.

Like watching something from a movie--feeling like it was all happening outside the real world and she was just watching from the relative comfort of a movie theater--she saw the two men draw their guns. She saw the flash from the muzzles of the guns, and heard the zing of the silencers. And she watched as the weasle and his date crumpled to the ground without having known that their lives were in jeopardy.

She kept taking photos by sheer shock. Photos of the men checking the bodies. Photos of the men looking even more menacing as they whispered together and then pulled out a cell phone and made a call. They didn't even look one bit remorseful as they talked in heated tones to whoever they had called on the phone.

And they had the gall to laugh and slap each other on the back before running back into the darkness and to their waiting car down the street.

The woman sat in the bushes. Unable to move for a long few minutes. Then she quietly pulled out her cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. She stood, brushed herself off, and willed her shaking to stop.

Then she promptly leaned back into the bushes and lost whatever meager contents were in her stomach, wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, and sat on the grass to wait for the police to arrive.

Seriously...

2008-05-19T06:39:00.001-07:00

Okay. I admit it. All three of the stories are similar. Probably overly so, but still. I only took about 30 minutes on each story...I didn't take a huge amount of time to ponder a deep story line. I probably should have taken more time, but I was in it for writing, so I just wrote. They aren't very deep. Light is more my style anyway...perhaps due to lack of creativity, but there you have it.

There must be ONE that you like more than the others. Even a little?

And you can't say "I like all three", because that is taking the easy way out and I'll really only think that you don't like any of them much and are saying that just to cover your embarrassment for me. :)

So go ahead and vote. It doesn't mean I'll actually write the story. Think of it as supporting my very first poll on my blog instead of a writing critique.

And leave a stinkin' comment. Even constructive criticism is better than absolute silence....

Edited to add--Okay...if you want a little different, I will make one more story to choose from for you. So read #4 and then vote all over again.

Okay, The Three Are Posted

2008-05-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

All three story beginnings are posted. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to read all three and then vote in the poll. Choose which story makes you want to read on to find out what happens.

And leave comments if you'd like. Positive, negative. Doesn't matter. I just like comments. :)

#3

2008-05-15T11:30:00.000-07:00

Anyone walking past the old, ornate church at 3:21 p.m. on that bright Saturday afternoon would have smiled at the sight of the bride and groom stepping lightly out the doors, identical grins on their faces as they ducked the flying rice and waved acknowledgement to the gathered well-wishers.

Anyone walking past the old, ornate church at 3:25 p.m. on that same bright Saturday afternoon probably wouldn't have noticed the sadness in the eyes of the maid of honor as she stood at the top of the steps and watched the bride and groom drive away. A forced smile on her face and a half-hearted wave as her sister drove off into the proverbial sunset with the man she loved.

"It's okay, sweetie." A comforting arm settled around Emily's shoulders.

She looked up at her father with an embarrassed smile. "I'm fine, Dad. Don't worry about me."

"This is all for the best."

"Of course it is." Emily straightened her shoulders. "They will be very happy together." She gave her father a more genuine smile. "I really do wish them all the best, you know."

"I know Em." He hugged her closer and told her what she dreaded hearing the most. "You are only sixteen, hon. This infatuation with Michael will pass, and you'll meet someone who will make you forget all about the heartache you are feeling."

Emily forced another smile and blinked back tears. She didn't need to be reminded how young she was. She didn't want to hear how she would meet someone else. And she knew in her heart, she would never forget Michael. The only part of her dad's speech that Emily appreciated was simply the fact that he acknowledged her feelings and didn't just brush them off as unimportant.

"Michael who? Right?" Emily saw her dad's smile reflect something like relief as he patted her shoulder and turned her back towards the church doors.

"That's my girl." He led her to the pew at the front of the church where he had left his overcoat.

Emily followed her dad back outside to the church parking lot and let him help her into the front seat of their older model sedan. She stared blankly at the passing scenery as they drove slowly towards their home.

Later she would have to put on a great act and not let people see how devastated she felt at the loss of her dream. The dream of someday being Mrs. Michael Carson. The dream that he would wait for her. That he would one day wake up and see her as a woman and not his girlfriend's little sister.

Emily suppressed a sigh. She loved her sister. She really did. She just wished her sister hadn't been quite as pretty, or quite as sweet. Not quite right for Michael so that he would one day be available for her to marry instead of becoming his sister-in-law.

Now Emily got to look forward to holidays and occasional Sunday family dinners with them. Down the road she would probably be their babysitter once they started a family.

The thoughts made Emily's stomach clench and she again fought back threatening tears.

I am being so selfish.' Emily thought to herself as she brushed away a stray tear that had escaped her battle. 'I really am just a spoiled 16 year-old girl who never had a chance and let my imagination run away with my heart.' She almost looked around for a pen and paper to write that last thought down. Nice and melodramatic. Her writer's gene was starting to kick in and overwrite her heartbreak.

Emily shifted in her seat instead and leaned forward, turning the knob on the car radio to a popular station that was playing an upbeat familiar tune.

'Admitting it is half the battle.' Emily almost smiled. 'From here on out I am going to put Michael firmly where he belongs--as a brother-in-law who is crazy about my sister. And maybe someday I'll find someone just like him.'

Emily leaned her head against the window and offered a genuine smile to her now-whistling father.

'Yes.' She thought, 'Someone exactly like him. Except he'll love me back. And that will make all the difference.'

#2

2008-05-14T09:36:00.000-07:00

10 years earlier

With night and the darkness it brought, the bushes next to the porch were the perfect cover. The old yellowed light bulb that was miraculously still working, cast only a faint glow around the front door of the older home in the rural neighborhood.

The bushes rustled a little more than they should have had there been any wind that night, and the muffled giggle that was followed by the smacking thud of someone getting hit upside the back of their head was definitely not nature made.

"Shh!" a loud feminine whisper came from the forsythia bush next to the porch. "You're going to ruin it, you big jerk."

More muffled laughter and another smack could be heard, but all was suddenly quiet as the headlights flashed across the front of the house as a car turned into the driveway.

The sound of a car door opening and then jogging feet on the crunching gravel drive as the driver ran around the car to let his passenger out seemed louder to the two teenagers who had been waiting barely patiently in the bushes for the past half hour. They could hear slowly strolling footsteps coming toward the porch, and the muffled talking became more clear as the unsuspecting couple came closer to their hiding place.

"I had a really good time tonight, Tyler."

"Me too."

The male half of the bush duo rolled his eyes, and they both tensed with repressed laughter.

"Well, goodnight." The girl hesitated at the bottom of the steps, just barely out of the direct light from the porch light.

The boy reached his arm out shyly, but suddenly straightened with seeming resolve and he more boldly leaned in for their first ever good-night kiss. Bending down toward his date, the boy marvelled briefly at his good fortune, the heady scent of her perfume surrounding any coherent thought he might have had two minutes earlier. As her arms came to rest lightly on his chest and then slowly circle up to the back of his neck, he leaned slowly towards her gloss covered lips and was sure he was going to remember this moment forever. A perfect moment in his sixteen-year old life.

Or would have been if the bushes next to the porch hadn't chosen the moment right before their anticipated kiss became reality, to make a horrific screaming noise causing his date to nearly rupture his eardrums with her own earth shattering scream.

"What in the heck?" Tyler jumped back and tripped over an abandoned tricycle, falling on his backside just in time to see the offending bushes part and his twin brother and soon-to-be ex-best friend leap out in camouflage gear and giant water guns and drench his still screaming and definitely retreating date with water as she ran into her house and slammed the door.

And then turn their imposing water weaponry his direction.

Eyes widening, Tyler back peddled as fast as he could and then stood and started running for his car.

"I'm going to kill you Chase!" He yelled as he grabbed the door handle, dodging streams of water as well as he could, but failing miserably. "You too Allison. Both of you are so dead." He leaped into his car and slammed the door shut, locking it as fast as he could and then smiling mischievously as he glanced toward his date's house and seeing the two hulking forms of her older--much meaner--brothers coming out the front door to uphold the honor of their very frightened sister.

Tyler started his car quickly, gave a mock salute and backed out of the drive. Noticing the exact moment his twin brother and friend saw their impending doom heading their way.

He'd never seen those two run that fast. Ever.

And he laughed all the way back home.

Between Stories...One of My Favorite Videos

2008-05-08T21:50:00.000-07:00

#1

2008-05-08T21:23:00.000-07:00

Click...

Clack...

Thunk

Thunk? Jordyn rolled over on her stomach and pulled her pillow over her head. She knew exactly what had awakened her sleep. Matt's date was over and he wanted to discuss it with her. She could picture him outside her apartment windows two stories down throwing pebbles--thus the clicks and clacks--and sometimes missing the window and hitting the stucco wall--which explained the occasional 'thunk'.

After longer and longer pauses between the pebbles hitting the window, Jordyn heard Matt resort to fake bird calls.

Throwing the covers off, Jordyn sat up and ran a hand through her sleep tousled hair.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She stood and grabbed the robe hanging on the back of her bedroom door before walking over to the window and opening the blinds.

Opening the window, Jordyn stuck her head out and frowned down at her friend.

"What do you want Matt? It is one o'clock in the morning, for Pete's sake."

"I think I'm in love." Matt beamed his deeply dimpled smile up at her and threw his arms out dramatically.

Sighing, Jordyn rolled her eyes. "Of course you are Matt. After all, this is your third whole date with what's-her-name and you are still on your best behavior."

Matt gripped his chest in mock pain. "Best behavior? I am always completely genuine for my dates."

"Okay Matt, whatever you say." Jordyn yawned. "If we're done talking, I'm going back to bed."

"C'mon Jo."

"Fine. Let me ask you this Casanova." Jordyn's raised whisper got louder and she narrowed her eyes. "Did you refrain from using the phrase, 'That's what I'm talking about!' at any point during your date?"

"Yes, but what does that have..."

"Did you silently wonder why she ordered a salad and then let her eat the fries off your plate without making any rude comments?"

"I guess so, now that you mention it, but I still don't.."

"Have you at any time brought up the story with your date about how you won the alphabet burping contest at your fraternity party two years ago?"

"Well, no. I don't see what..."

"Matt?"

"Yes?"

"You are still on your best behavior. Until this newest love of your life gets to meet the real you, you can't be in love."

"You are nuts."

"No, Matt. I'm tired and cranky." Jordyn tried to stifle another yawn. "When you feel comfortable enough to let your date see you for who you really are, THEN you can come back and tell me you are in love. Until then, she is on her best behavior too and it is all make believe."

"I don't understand your reasoning there."

"I know you don't. You never do." Jordyn started to stand back from the window and put her hands up on the sill to close it.

"Jordyn, wait." Matt's low pleading caused Jordyn to pause and stick her head back out the window.

"What now, Matt?" She watched as Matt's expression changed from a frown, to a question, to a scowl. "Matt?"

"I don't know." Matt ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm trying to remember why I came here tonight. You are sort of a kill joy, Jo."

Jordyn smiled ruefully, "You came here because you like waking me up in the middle of the night to rub in the fact that you have a social life and I don't. Don't take me so seriously, Matt. I'm about sixty gazillion hours behind in my beauty sleep and I wasn't kidding about the being cranky part." Jordyn stretched her arms over her head. "You go ahead and be in love if you want. I hope she is good enough for you."

"You're just trying to make me feel better." Matt grinned.

"That, and I'm hoping you'll go home so I can go back to sleep."

"Goodnight, Jo." Matt chuckled.

"'Night, Matt."

Jordyn closed the window and watched as Matt jogged over to the parking lot and got in his car. Turning back to her bed as soon as the tail lights of his car disappeared around the corner, she sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her pillow to her.

From the glow of the street light outside, Jordyn could see the framed photo sitting on her desk of her and Matt at their high school graduation.

Someday, she thought to herself with a pang, someday he really will fall in love. And then what am I going to do?

Three Beginnings, and then a Poll

2008-05-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

To force my 'creative juices', so to speak...I've decided that for this next week--and I won't guarantee days so I won't be completely pressed--I am going to post the beginnings of three new stories.

I want you to read them all, and then once I've finally posted the third one I will start a poll. A poll for you to decide which story you'd like to find out what happens. The one that has most draw to you. Comments are more than welcome at any point.

It is a way for me to get back into the writing swing, mainly so that I can bust out of my 'chapter 13' block on the book I am currently writing. But also for fun.

So watch for the first entry either tonight or tomorrow.

German Shepherd Angels

2008-05-05T18:59:00.000-07:00

I served a mission for my church in the Porto, Portugal mission. It was a really great experience and I will always be grateful for the chance I had to serve full-time with the people there.

Some of the areas I served in weren't great. Run down apartment complexes, shanties...slums. But while I served there I didn't recognize the dangers of those areas, I only saw the humility of the people and the general friendliness that they showed my companion and me.

In daylight hours, I never gave a second thought about being in some of those areas. And honestly, I didn't really think twice about being there at night either unless a member warned us of places to avoid at night or if my companion would start acting a bit nervous.

After a late appointment one night in an area of Porto that was set off the beaten path a bit at the haphazard clapboard home of a gypsy family, my companion and I set off for the bus stop that was quite a ways away from where we were.

It was dark and there wasn't much light to guide us as we followed the narrow cobblestone road toward the more inhabited part of the area.

I heard a noise and looked behind us and saw a German shepherd come out of the darkness and start walking beside us. It didn't give us more than a quick glance, but it kept right by our side and walked with us toward through the almost deserted street.

A few hundred yards later we passed a bar where a lot of rough looking Portuguese men had stumbled out and were loudly taunting one another, singing, and showing obvious signs of having had too much to drink.

My companion and I kept walking confidently forward, our canine companion at our side. The dog stayed next to us as we past the men and ignored them when they tried to call him over.

When we were far enough past the bar that the men were no longer a threat, the dog took a long look at us and quickly darted up a side street.

We were close to the bus stop and the area was safer.

We never saw the dog again. And didn't actually give much more thought about the dog until two weeks later.

Two weeks after this situation my companion got a letter from her dad. He said that he had been at work and suddenly had the feeling that he should pray for our safety. He knelt right at his desk and prayed with all his heart, not knowing why he was praying. Only knowing that he must pray.

My companion and I immediately thought of the dog. If the dog hadn't appeared to be walking with us when we walked past the drunken men in that bad area of town, there is no saying what might have happened. It was just the right deterrent to keep the men from making unwanted advances. The dog acted like it belonged to us. It acted as though it was our protector. And after the letter, we felt strongly that he was indeed that.

Prayers are answered in ways we don't really expect. There was no flash of lightning. No flaming sword of righteousness. Just a dog.

But never 'just' a dog to me.

Protector, yes. Guardian, definitely. But most of all, an answer to prayer.

Day Seven

2008-05-04T13:21:00.000-07:00

Whew. Day seven is finally here.

I don't know what it is, but when I force myself to blog 7 days in a row I feel too much pressure. Nothing comes to mind that might be uplifting or entertaining.

I want to write uplifting and entertaining.

I think I would do better if I didn't make myself do the daily write--even if I DO write every day. I'm not sure if that makes sense.

So from here on out, I am no longer promising a daily blog entry. I will do better though at writing more often than I had in the past, but I'll keep the rigid rules out so that I don't freeze up and write really stupid entries. (Like today's, yes...no one has to comment on that and point it out.)

For today I will just give out some info.:

I finished the website for the soccer club. You can see it at www.razziafutbolclub.com . It is just a basic website at the moment. I needed to get it up fast so that they can get the tryout information out there for people. I'll customize it over the next couple of weeks. If you see any glaring errors on that--spell checks, etc.--let me know. Please. :)

The second info. I have is that my husband left today to go out of town on business until Tuesday. Not a big deal normally, but we are still trying to get the house put back together after taking everything out of the upper level of the home for the carpet cleaning. So he has left me with a lot to keep me entertained while he is in Colorado. The good news is that I can have breakfast foods for dinner with no complaining to be heard for miles. My husband isn't a fan of meals out of order. :)

And now, to end my seven day writing streak I will give you all a list of five things I like to do when my husband is out of town. How's that for an exciting topic? :)

1. Watch chick flicks that he mocks openly--so that I can watch them mock-free.
2. Eat peanut M&M's while doing #1...I can eat them when hubby is home, but then I have to share.
3. Sleep in the middle of the bed with all the pillows.
4. Have total control of the tv remote---which means watching Sportcenter only one time instead of twice because my husband falls asleep on the couch with a death grip on the remote and I seem to enjoy watching tv with him after the kids are in bed...even if he is snoring and I'm watching the same highlights--but that is a whole other topic.
5. Treat the kids to take-out. That one isn't hard to imagine--my husband goes on business trips and gets treated to fabulous restaurants while he is gone while we are home with standard fare of mac & cheese and hot dogs..."springing" for Wendy's isn't much comparison, but it gets me out of cooking one of the nights he is gone. :)

So there you go. I'd love to hear what you guys like to do when your significant other is out of town without you. Feel free to leave a comment. I'd love new ideas. :)

Day Six

2008-05-03T21:44:00.000-07:00

Okay. I'm pushing it today in getting this blog posted...I have just over an hour before it is Day Seven. But at least I'm getting it done.

As I was going about my busy day today--driving everywhere, coaching a soccer game, etc. I started thinking about romance and what it means to me.

It all started when I was rushing into the grocery store to get 'Magic Erasers' for our cleaning frenzy today, and walked past a movie poster advertising the movie 'P.S. I Love You'. I admit I have not seen that movie--I know the premise and I tend to avoid the sad romantic comedies like the plague--but what struck me was the great photography. I believed that the man in the photo really loved the woman. He had that 'look' about him.

Of course, it could just be that I think Gerrard Butler is easy on the eyes in general..but that is beside the point. :)

Then I was thinking about how the ladies in my neighborhood are getting together in a couple of weeks to see the movie '27 Dresses'...it was going to be a church thing, but the rules of that are that if we show a movie in a church capacity we have to show a movie that was actually made by the church. I'm not totally opposed to watching 'Johnny Lingo', but I just don't see a big turnout for that one. So it is a neighborhood activity now. :)

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make on that one is that although being an 8 cow wife is all well and good--and truthfully, Johnny DOES seem to gaze lovingly at his wife...he sees who she really is--it seems like we all want something more.

I don't see my husband look at me that way. I just don't. But I hear people tell me all the time how much he talks about me to them and how they can tell how much he cares about me.

Now, it would be nice to get the occasional gaze. I won't lie about that. But when I think about what my husband does for me, it is worth not getting the gaze.

I think that a lot of people don't feel that way though. A lot of marriages and relationships go a bit awry when the woman or the man feels like they aren't getting enough attention. They don't look at what they have, but at what others show. Like the gaze in the movie poster. That is a public display. Most women I know would love it if their husbands were as attentive as the poster seems to imply--but in reality, if that poster were real life Gerrard would be leaning over the smiling Hillary Swank and whispering "What's for dinner? Do we have any snacks?"

So don't just look at the surface. Don't look at what the world portrays as ideal in a relationship. If you look a little deeper and see what your significant other does for you--the little things that happen daily that you probably take for granted--then I am quite sure that we are all getting more 'gaze' than we realize.

And that is a good thing.

Day Five

2008-05-02T10:53:00.000-07:00

When Bob Barker reminded folks on a daily basis to "control pet population--spay and neuter your pets", he never once mentioned the cost involved.

Of course, if my pets were ONLY getting spayed and neutered it probably wouldn't be so shocking when I get the bill.

My cat Jackie, (Jackie-o-Lantern...she is a black and orange tortoiseshell and we got her as a kitten in October of 2006..) and our dog Dublin (our 6 1/2 pound toy poodle) are getting fixed today. Finally.

Dublin, however, is also getting all of his teeth pulled. All of them. He is only 5 years old, but has the nastiest teeth on the planet. His dental work is the cause of the huge increase in money owed to the vet.

Taking the time to brush your dog's teeth seems a bit silly, but when you are faced with a bill for over $1000 because of the dental destruction...well, it isn't quite so silly.

Now we get to buy soft dog food for him since he'll have to just gum everything. So he has that to look forward to. Dogs seem to like the canned stuff better than dry anyway.

You know how old folks look when they don't have their dentures in? Well, that's how I picture the dog looking when I pick him up later this afternoon. Kind of like a fuzzy Mr. Magoo. If he were a mean dog he'd now have to resort to gumming people to death. Poor little fella. :)

As for the cat, she is almost two and I can honestly say that cats in heat are the most annoying creatures. And it isn't like a dog that will come into heat just twice per year. No. That would be too kind. Cats are constantly in heat. It is a miracle that she never got pregnant. We were pretty diligent at keeping her in, but since I have proof of what happens when your children get it into their heads that letting animals together to make babies is a good thing, (one litter of poodle puppies is completely thanks to my 13 year old daughter thinking she is hilarious), I wouldn't have put it past them to "accidentally" let the cat out.

I actually put off spaying the cat for so long because in all my growing up years and since I've been married, most of our cats have had death wishes...they have all died young. Been hit by cars, had unfortunate results from anti-freeze, run away, etc. The only exception to that rule was my mom's cat Cid, who died of old age. And that, I'm convinced, is simply because he was the meanest cat I've ever known and was too ornery to die any younger. As a matter of fact, until I met my friend Jon's cat that was 18 years old at the time, I never knew ANY cat actually died of old age. I figured all cats probably died young. So I put off the spay, because I was certain we wouldn't have her very long. It is the same reason why I don't buy the jumbo Costco size bag of kitty litter...I don't want to get stuck with that when the cat decides to take on a car.

And now that she is spayed, it makes me think that she will die soon now since I went ahead and spent money on her...I guess time will tell. I hope I'm wrong though. Kind of morbid thoughts, but that's how things have happened so that is what I expect.

After today we will be a lot poorer, but Dublin will be happier without his rotten teeth (and all of us around him will be happier to not be able to smell his rotten teeth...) and Jackie will be happier to not be in heat forever.

So spay and neuter your pets. And check your animal's teeth so you can prevent having to do a major surgery like Dublin is going through right now, and then your bill will not be astronomical. You could say that if you do the preventative stuff, the "Price is Right". :)

Bob would be proud.

Day Four

2008-05-01T07:26:00.000-07:00

Remind me to not hope something different happens so that I can write about it.

Today I am sick. And tired. But mostly sick.

I have a fever, I'm achy, congested...and to top it off I was positive I didn't set my alarm last night so instead of dragging my sorry butt out of bed to check it, I kept waking up every 30 minutes to check the time. All night long.

Being a mom and being sick is worse than any other 'being sick' option. When you are a husband, your wife helps you out and your kids leave you alone. When you are a kid, mom is there to show sympathy (for a little while anyway :) ) and take care of you--the bonus being you get to miss school. But when you are a mom, you still have to get the little ones dressed and fed. You still have to break up arguments. You still have to pick kids up from school and carpool and take kids to soccer and track. You can't just take the day off. Especially when your youngest kids are 4, 4, and 3 years old. They are too active to even think about closing your eyes for a few minutes.

I DO have a fairly legitimate reason to just 'veg' today, so I have that going for me. My house is still in huge disarray from the carpet cleaning yesterday and I had planned on putting things back in order. Tomorrow is looking better for that.

Unfortunately, I know my husband well, and am fairly certain that when he gets home from work tonight I will be helping him drag furniture back upstairs. The clutter drives him crazy, and I can hear him now...."Let's just get this stuff moved and then you can go lay down."

Great. So I have that to look forward to.

Did you know that whining children are even more annoying when you don't feel well? Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Day Three

2008-04-30T11:31:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

I expect to come up with something to write for seven days? In a row?

I must have been out of my mind.

I never really wanted this blog to be like a journal entry marking out what I have done during my day. My days aren't that exciting.

For example, this is what has happened in my life in the last 12 hours...

1. My husband and I are having our carpets cleaned one level of the house at a time. Which means that last night we were up until 1 a.m. getting EVERYTHING out of the upstairs level of our house so the carpet guy could come this morning and clean the 3 bedrooms upstairs with absolutely nothing in the way. Nothing. No beds, dressers, bookshelves, toys, etc. etc. The carpet guy showed up and said "This is a first. I've never had anyone move into the living room of their home just to get their carpets cleaned. There must be a merit badge in there for you somewhere..."

Everyone is a comedian.

But he's right. My husband and I moved the dining room table into the kitchen and plopped our mattress down where the table had been since one of the upstairs bedrooms that we gutted of furniture is ours.

Carpets look marvelous, by the way.

2. My oldest daughter, who I never really considered overly vain, got her braces off this morning. And can't stop looking at herself in the mirror and smiling. :)

3. My 4 year old daughter said "Here is my name backwards" and then proceeded to spell it out. Correctly. I was impressed.

4. I read an entire 225 page romance novel while waiting the two hours for my daughter to get her braces off.

5. I took 10 bags of toys and clothes to Deseret Industries--there are bonuses to getting everything out of bedrooms...you find things that you really don't want to ever put back and it cleans and minimizes clutter.

That's it. Not too shabby.

But not a page turner...or mouse scroller.

Maybe something fun will happen between now and tomorrow--or I'll get some inspired deep thought to ponder out loud.

I guess you'll just have to stay tuned until tomorrow to find out....:)

Day Two

2008-04-29T10:32:00.000-07:00

I know you have heard this one before, but...

Never, never, ever, never go grocery shopping on an empty stomach.

Ever.

You can go in to the store with shopping list in hand, determined to not waver. You can even give yourself a very limited amount of time to be in the store, telling yourself that it will keep you on task and not let you take a turn down the 'wrong' aisle.

But when your stomach is in charge, you might as well just cozy up to the snack section and load up. No use fighting it.

Suddenly everything looks good--especially if chocolate is involved in even the most minute form.

It wouldn't be so bad if you suddenly craved food that is actually good for you. It would be more impressive to say, "I'm starving, let's go raid the produce section!" But no. Go hungry to the grocery store and anything with less than 500 calories per serving is shunned.

And heaven forbid you bring one of your kids with you. You can then tell how insane you are becoming when your kid asks for a snack item, you say "Okay", and they look at you in a very confused way and say "Really?" Looking back at the snack in hand and then back at you and then quickly putting it in the cart as if worried that you will suddenly come to your senses and tell her "You're right, put it back."

And I won't even talk about how much more expensive the bill is when your cart is loaded with more junk food than it should.

Not going to the store hungry probably means one should not put off grocery shopping for so long that there is nothing to eat in the house--thus causing the starving-while-shopping dilemma. That might be something I should remember....

Not a huge insight today for you all, but one that is close to my heart--and stomach...and waist line....and....well, you get the picture.

Day One

2008-04-28T09:28:00.000-07:00

For those of you who muddle through my ramblings, I thought I would warn you that I have decided to write a new blog entry every day this week.

Yes, seven days of writing about nothing in particular except what might strike my fancy at the moment.

You have been warned, so no complaining about the content. Things that strike my fancy might make zero sense to anyone else. Actually, I can almost guarantee that point. And it also opens up the blinding knowledge that I am not always the type who thinks in a straight line--I zig-zag in my thought processes and sometimes that makes it hard for you mere mortals to keep up. :)

Today I am going to write about husbands who sign their wives up for things they know absolutely nothing about.

Now, I will admit that I volunteer my husband for more things than I should. But the man has talent. He is a great speaker, gives good firesides to the youth, he can fix computers, he is good at helping people put down sod...and apparently I am really good at signing him up for those things and having him not complain too loudly.

It now appears that instead of the loud complaining, he has just been saving up for pay back.

The soccer club that our club just joined/helped form for the upcoming 2008-09 season needs a website. I knew this two weeks ago when I attended a coach's meeting. They asked then if there was anyone who could put the website together and get it running.

I didn't volunteer for a reason. I don't know HOW to do websites.

My husband had a board meeting with this club since he is on the board of our current club and HE volunteered me to be the web designer when the topic was brought up again.

I think he was pretty proud of himself when he called me from his cell phone on his way home from the meeting.

Usually he just volunteers me to bring dessert to some gathering--even when he volunteers me to make dutch oven cobblers for church parties, that isn't the same level as this one.

So there you go. I will be busy trying to look like I have a clue. I'll post the web url as soon as I get something solid there and let you take a look.

But for now....if anyone has need of sod laying help, or computer glitches fixed, you might even need a last minute speaker for a large group [the more last minute, the better]....let me know. I have a husband who I'm POSITIVE will be thrilled to help you out!!

Dating

2008-04-25T21:13:00.000-07:00

A woman I know online--not in real life--has a teen aged daughter who is going to start dating soon. This lady wants to give her daughter a 'course' on dating, so she will know what to look forward to, what to anticipate--what to avoid--etc. Because of this course, she asked the opinion of about 25 ladies and a couple of gentlemen on what they would include in this course.

Me, having an opinion on pretty much anything...I posted some tongue-in-cheek responses (should you say tongue-in-cheek when talking about teenagers and dating? All of a sudden that just doesn't look right at all....), and a couple of more serious answers.

Also, because I usually have an opinion but also can be swayed fairly easily if someone has a darn good argument, I start second guessing myself and my answers. Then, to get really psychotic I start wondering what I would do if I gave a 'course' to MY teen aged daughters. And let me tell you...it is a really good thing that I'm not the type to lose sleep over worry or I would be going on only about 13 1/2 minutes of quality R.E.M. about now...

I probably should think about that last one before I start offering flowing, humorous, "John Hughes" type answers. I'm fairly certain that some of my answers wouldn't make it to a course that I give to my own kids.

So here are the top ten answers from this woman's poll that I would actually tell one of my kids if I were trying to teach them about dating. These are taken from different folks from different areas of the country.:

10. It is okay to leave if you are on a bad date--call me and I'll come and get you if you are in a situation you don't feel comfortable with.
9. Most of the time, a friend is the best date. Going out with someone you have a 'crush' on is a lot of pressure and can be not as much fun as going out with someone you feel comfortable with.
8. Group dating is fun! Less awkward moments and lulls in conversation.
7. Some of the most fun dates are the ones that go wrong--go with the flow and make the best of the situation.
6. Respect each other.
5. Boys actually have feelings too, so be nice. Especially if you turn one down when he asks you out. But remember that you don't have to say yes, just because a boy got the nerve up to ask you on a date. Pity dates aren't good for either party.
4. Guaranteed, at least one boy at some point in your life will make you cry. That is life. Take a tissue and move on.
3. (Thanks Aimee for this next one:) Think of the $1000 question...is kissing that boy worth losing $1000. If not, don't. If he is, do. [to sum up the explanation on that one...a friend of Aimee's told her daughters that if they made it to the age of 18 without being kissed, they would give them $1000...makes them stop and think. And hopefully make better choices. More discriminate ones anyway]
2. Unfortunately, date rape and getting drugged without your knowledge is more and more common. Don't let anyone fill a drink for you and don't leave your drink unattended.
1. Have fun. Dating is for getting to know people. Making friends. Learning what characteristics you will ultimately look for in a spouse. Learning how to interact with people who are different than you. It really is fun. Really.

If anyone else has anything to add, please leave a comment. Or two, or ten. My oldest daughter will be 16 in 9 months. It seems far away still, but it will fly by. I am actually more worried about the dating part of her life than I am about her getting her driver's license and driving. Even with talking and teaching her about consequences and values, curfews and rules, I am going to be a basket case every time she walks out the door with a member of the opposite sex.

I think I'm going to buy stock in L'Oreal. My hair is going to become a lovely shade of gray really soon. I can feel it. I will probably keep the economy booming simply by the amount of hair color I start to buy to cover my silver strands of panic. :)

When I Grow Up...

2008-04-20T18:24:00.000-07:00

You know the phrase, "When I grow up I want to be..."? Well, I have been thinking about that saying a bit today and realized that even at my age, I still don't know what I want to 'be'.

When I was young I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love animals. Over summer vacation I would write reports on different breeds of dog just for fun. I know more about the different breeds of dogs than any non-vet should.

Then I found out that to become a vet, you needed to actually have a clue about math and science. Instead of working through my hang-ups with those subjects, I decided to give up that particular goal.

I toyed with the idea of being a nurse, but after spending a summer as a physical therapy assistant at a convalescent center and seeing what the lower-rung-of-the-ladder nurses have to clean up, I changed my mind. I did like working with the people, so occasionally I reconsider the health field.

I decided at one point to get my college degree in English. Then when I had to learn Portuguese and realized that I actually don't know English I changed my mind again. I still blow the verbs in Portuguese simply because I don't remember all the tense rules in English.

I considered getting an art degree--I like to paint and sculpt and draw. But honestly, I am horrible at self-promotion. I would never be able to make a living being an artist because I would never charge enough for my work thinking that no one would pay me what I am worth.

I do like the idea of writing for a living, but I know how difficult that is to make any money on too. The difference there though is that I would have an editor to fix my contractions, and hopefully an agent to help with my contracts. I do sometimes fall into the 'not quite good enough' self-pity move when writing, like with my art, but I like the creativity and bringing characters to life. Maybe I could write stories and do the illustrations or covers. That way I could do both.

In two years my youngest kids will be in school. That is where I am looking right now. I know how fast two years goes, and I really want to have a clue about what to do with myself when I don't have the 24/7 responsibility with staying home all day with little ones.

Truth be told, I have the job I want right now. Being a stay-at-home mom isn't glamorous and can be thankless, but it is rewarding when your kids excel at being human.

I always planned on continuing my education when my kids went to school. I just thought that by now I would know what to study, what to aim for, what to major in.

Maybe I'll just be a perpetual junior in college. (I already have my Associates Degree from a Jr. College). Take a whole bunch of classes, expand my knowledge moving from 'Barney & Friends' to Beethoven & French Impressionism.

And just along those lines, but off the subject a bit--I know a guy who actually grew up to be a train engineer. And one who grew up to be a fireman. Those are careers that you always hear little boys say they want when they grow up, and I am so darn impressed that I actually know some who really did. You might even say I envy them. They knew what they wanted, and they did it.

When I grow up...I want to be happy with how I turned out. I want to know that I make more people smile than frown, and I want to be the kind of person that people are glad to know. I don't know if there is a college degree in that, or even a college course, but I'm fairly certain it doesn't take a stitch of math to do, so I'm in. :)

Trophies and Esteem

2008-04-15T10:01:00.000-07:00

When I was in the 5th grade, a friend of mine talked me into joining a recreation soccer team. It was my first introduction to the sport. I remember playing as a defender and wearing really ugly red, white, and blue striped stockings. (They weren't part of the uniform, I just wore them--probably because I lost my actual soccer socks). I remember my mom being upset because I was on defense, and being new at the sport too she assumed that you stick all your bad players in defense and all the good ones in offense to score goals to win the game.

I'm still not sure if that meant that she thought I was one of the worst players and she didn't want anyone to figure it out because of my position on the field, or if she thought I was better than some and she expected me to play up front with Pele`-type aspirations...

Anyway. From that point on I was hooked. I played rec soccer for a few years. At one point I was on a team with Mr. Enomoto as my coach. We were a last place team. We really weren't any good. But Enomoto was a good coach. Within a couple of years we were the 1st place team in our age bracket. We earned ourselves a trophy. My mom was happy. I was playing forward at that point, and yes, I was scoring a lot of goals...but the defense was just as important to winning and we had all figured that out by then.

From that point, I tried out for a competitive soccer team and played on what was then one of the best girl soccer teams in the State. We went to out-of-State tournaments, played in two leagues--our U18 girls and in a Women's league, so I was playing soccer 6 days a week. When we would win 1st place we would get a trophy at the end of the season. When we took 2nd place, we would get a smaller trophy for the season. If we ever took 3rd or 4th...etc....we would get a 'thanks for playing' and a 'try harder next year'.

All that rambling gets me to my point. (Yes, I have a point)

I've been thinking about this for awhile now. Ever since my kids were old enough to participate in team sports. I played hard in soccer. Worked hard at it to improve my skills. I worked with my teammates and we strived to do our best. When we took 1st place we earned that trophy and it meant a lot to us. I have 3 of my old trophies on the desk next to my computer right now.

When my oldest daughter was old enough to play soccer I was surprised when at the end of the season EVERY kid who participated got a trophy. Not just the 1st and 2nd place teams. Everyone. The last place team was treated equally with the team that had taken 1st place. And it isn't ony in soccer. My son gets trophies for baseball in the same manner.

I sure hope it isn't just me, but does that seem right to you? All this talk lately about children's self-esteem is going to eveyone's head.

Here is how I see it. We are teaching our children NOT that everyone is equal and that we are all winners no matter what it says in the scorebook, but that it doesn't matter if you apply yourself and work really hard because in the end you will get the same reward as the guy who didn't care enough to even show up to half the games.

Now, when you have a bunch of 6 year olds running around learning the sport, I can almost see where the mothers in charge of warm fuzzies would want all the kids to get a prize for participating. And there is actually nothing wrong with a participation prize. But couldn't they still have a 1st and 2nd place trophy so that the next season it might spark enough desire in the kid who ended up with just a lousy medal to play a little harder and aim for the shiny trophy?

In the long run, I don't see how keeping everything exactly 'fair' is good for anyone. In school you get an 'A' for your hard work, and if you are a slacker you don't. Easy, right? In the work force--hopefully--you get rewarded for hard and ethical work, and if you aren't pulling your weight you might suddenly find yourself looking for a new job. Even in high school sports they do the trophy thing the right way.

So why do we pamper the little kids? Why not teach them young how to fight a little more for what they want? Or how to work harder with others to be successful? Or how participating is a great thing, but if you really go the extra mile and work at it you might get the big prize? I don't see how that can hurt them. It can only prepare them so that in the future, when bigger things come up like college and jobs and marriage, they will know how to dig in and work hard. How to be a good team member and know that if you work hard with others who are also trying to achieve the same objective, eveyone wins. Some years you get a participation medal for showing up. Sometimes you will work hard and the joker in the cubicle next to you holds back the whole team so that pat on the back is all you get. But other years it all comes together and playing nice and working hard gives you the ultimate reward--be it respect, love, social position, a better job, integrity, a good reputation, or even an 18" dust collector to display next to your computer for you to be proud of even 20 years later. Because you went above the call of just showing up. You actually earned it.

Prayers and Fasting

2008-04-10T12:57:00.000-07:00

I'm not used to posting blogs that aren't sarcastic or a bit light-hearted. So this will be new to you all. And to me. And I'll keep my ramblings to a minimum.

A friend of mine who is expecting twins, just found out that the little boy has an unoperable heart defect. The doctor's at Primary Children's Hospital are not giving many reasons to hope, and it will take a heart transplant very soon after his birth to save his life.

They are asking the Lord, through faith, for a miracle to save their baby son. This Sunday is Fast Sunday. They understand that they do not know what the Lord's plan is for their baby, and will accept whatever that plan is, but know that all things are possible through our combined faith and prayers.

Their names are Matt and Denise, and I'm sure they would appreciate all prayers anyone can pass their way.

Thanks.

Chick Flick Reflections

2008-04-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

My new blogger friend Danyelle--see Queen of the Clan blog link--has a contest running at the moment to discover the best 'chick flick'. She asked for suggestions, put them in poll form, and will have her husband watch the top three poll choices to determine the #1 Chick Flick.

(Which sounds really fun--me being a "chick" and loving "flicks"--but I'm not sure her husband is a good choice for picking the top chick flick movie. No offense. He is, by definition, a HUSBAND. Definitely not a chick. So in reality, he might actually choose the movie that is LESS chick-flick like. More watchable for a guy. Not that there is anything wrong with that...:) )

So, in order to expand a little wisdom to the guys for them to fully appreciate the 'chick flick', and what it is exactly that draw women to wanting to watch those movies again and again, I am going to point out some pivotal scenes in some of my favorite movies and try to explain why I like them. I'm not going to be so general as to assume ALL 'chicks' like these scenes the same way and for the same reasons that I do, but it is probably safe to say that most will agree with part of my judgement.

Let me start with 'The Lake House'. Mainly because this is the movie that my husband just doesn't 'get'. This is the movie that, when leaving the theater I overheard more than a dozen different men muttering to themselves something along the lines of "What was that? Did you get any of that movie? What a piece of..." Men with dazed expressions of confusion and the rolling of eyes at each other as their women (most of them anyway) smiled and told each other that they liked the movie. The men didn't understand the draw. The women ignored Keanu Reeve's acting ability and just soaked up the romance.

In the Lake House, there is one scene that clinches it all for me. The one scene that I will happily ignore the moans of my husband as I choose to watch my DVD again. It is the scene where Keanu goes to the party he knows Sandra will be attending. He sits with her on the back porch, knowing exactly who she is and she has no idea how their lives will become intertwined in the next two years. The scene when they end up dancing alone in the moonlight--fighting attraction, but giving in to a marvelous first kiss. [sigh] So romantic. It is what makes dancing so appealing. Being close. Feeling attracted--and attractive. I sometimes think all of us wish we had a little bit of Sandra Bullock in us. Or maybe we wish flashes of Keanu would be seen in our husbands. Not the bad acting parts--:) --but the going out and making the girl feel wanted. Like there is no one else in the world--no other place he'd rather be, than to be with his girl.

My 2nd movie to discuss would be 'Just Like Heaven'. My husband mockingly tells me that the criteria for a chick flick that I enjoy is only that it has some weird medical phenomenon. The Lake House has the goofy 2 year seperation thing, Just Like Heaven has the girl in a coma, While You Were Sleeping has another coma...there is a pattern, I will admit that much.

Just Like Heaven appeals because I think it shows more of the guy doing whatever he can for the girl. I mean, seriously...he steals her body for pete's sake. (No asking who Pete is....you punny people). He is willing to seem extreme, insane, and he is willing to sacrifice everything to save her.

With While You Were Sleeping, the guy is willing to step aside and let the girl marry his brother if that will bring her happiness. Even at the expense of his own.

Romantic comedy chick flicks are really easy to break down. A regular romantic comedy becomes a chick flick when you have the hero love the girl for who she is, love her in spite of obstacles and differences, love her enough to be willing to let her go. But in the end, true love prevails.

To make it a romantic comedy for guys to enjoy, all they do is add shooting and car chases. Men are much more simple than women. Give a guy a bag of popcorn and a movie like Sahara, and both of you are happy.

Of course, if you give a guy a bag of popcorn, a box of Milk Duds, and a large soda...okay, and a double bacon cheeseburger and large order of fries....he'll probably even sit through 'Pride and Prejudice' with you. :)

April Ramblings

2008-04-03T06:40:00.001-07:00

Okay. I wrote the previous post on April 1st, posted it...didn't love it so I took it off and put it in my drafts to contemplate it and the reasons behind not loving it. I then decided to just post the thing, so it is all there in its original form. And I still don't love it.
NOW I don't love it because the title is 'April Fools Day'--I originally wrote it then--but since I posted it a different day it doesn't quite make sense anymore.
Originally, I decided I don't love it because I had wanted to write at more length about the interruptions my kids love to make at inopportune times. I had a lovely ramble in my head about that one.
You know the saying about giving talks that says something like, 'You write three talks before you give it, the one in your head, the one you write down, and the one you actually give'? Well, the ramble in my head about my kids was awesome. Funny, memorable. It had Norman Rockwell type tendencies. Pure genius.
You will notice I didn't get to the 'write it down' part. It might have had a few chuckles, but probably not as memorable as my ego wanted.
So I condensed the thoughts and shoved them in my April Fool's post.
I realize that I probably just can't get the hilarity of the post in my head out of...well, my head. So that is why I am not a fan of that post.
Enough said.

Today, to make it really special I thought I would ramble like the pro I could be--if someone would pay me for my ramblings. [Just a side: If someone pays you to NOT ramble..to not post due to eye strain and an aversion to sarcasm...would that make me a professional thinker? That wouldn't look too shabby on a business card....hmm....]

I've become a people watcher lately. When I served my mission in Portugal I used to walk down the cobblestone streets and see old Portuguese women in their houses, staring out their front windows and watching people as they passed by. I found it quaint to see them as life passed by their windows. Their faces were lined from years of hard work and they rarely smiled, unless a fellow widow would make her way past their house and they would lift gnarled hands in greeting and smile a mostly-toothless smile at one another while praising God, cursing dead husbands, and making their way to the market.
Fascinating exchange, that.
I used to find myself watching out my window too. It is different here in the States. In my neighborhood. My husband caught me staring out the window a few times and could never understand the draw.
So now I mostly watch people while I'm in my car. I will be at a stop light and I find myself looking at an older woman in the car next to me and begin to wonder what she looked like when she was young. I look at the man in the car behind me through my rearview mirror and wonder what he looked like when he had hair.
I wonder who the man in the suit is talking with on his phone--imagining he is making some big business deal when he almost blows through a red-light because of the cell phone distraction (when in reality, it is probably just him chatting with his wife and trying really hard to talk her out of having to going to her parents for dinner that night).
I laugh at the extremely well dressed 'beautiful people'--you know the ones: great hair, blindingly white teeth, hugely expensive car--who pick their nose when they think no one is looking.
And I feel a certain kinship to those I catch alone in their cars happily singing along to the radio.

I am a people watcher. We are interesting creatures.

And when I am old and have no teeth and white hair, I hope that instead of buying a black lace shawl and pulling up a window seat, I'll still be enjoying life instead of just watching it pass me by.

April Fool's Day

2008-04-02T05:54:00.000-07:00

Today would have been the 17th wedding anniversary of my sister if they hadn't gotten divorced. Not a big deal except that I have been contemplating the date for some time and wondered how many people actually get married on this day, and if they do, how many marriages last. I mean, if it is a fool's day, are you getting married on this date to be silly or to fool everyone who thought you'd never end up together? Or maybe it was the only available day for the caterer for the month of April because no one wanted that date. Or maybe you picked that date on a dare.I would think that regardless of the reasons, being married on this date would be to bring some laughs and chuckles every anniversary. Right?Granted, my sister's marriage didn't last--but her 2nd marriage is still going strong, and I have no idea what her anniversary date is for that one. It just didn't stick in my head. When one elopes to Reno, you would think it would trump an April 1st wedding. It does in some ways--she is married with 5 kids now--and in others it doesn't, unless you count having a nice normal wedding anniversary date instead of one that sticks out.All that said, when above mentioned sister's marriage ended, I started wondering about my own marriage.April Fool's Day is a silly, lighthearted day to get married.My husband and I got married on Friday the 13th.Seriously.So when a happy day in April doesn't help out the longevity of a marriage, I worried about the fates when we thumbed our noses at any jinx that might occur when my husband and I picked a Friday the 13th. This will be our 17th wedding anniversary later this year. And we have 7 kids. 2 dogs. 1 cat. And 1 mouse (if you read my other post we had 3 mice as of last week, but they are quickly meeting their demise--not because of the cat however...)Some days with that craziness I'm thinking the jinxes are working well--for example:Maybe if I had married on the 12th instead I would get to take an entire shower without two 4 year-olds and a 3 year-old unlocking my door and coming in to complain about something, or show me something, or be generally annoying when all I really want is five minutes to get clean. Alone.Or maybe if I had married on the 14th I would not have all the kids be quiet and calm until the second I am talking on the phone when all heck breaks loose and someone is sure they are going to die unless I get them a corn dog.Maybe if I married on any other day than Friday the 13th I would not have such a crazy life...okay, I'm sure that if I had married on any other day my life would probably be the exact same, but what if it wasn't?If I think about it that way, I suppose I am glad I married on the date I did. I can't imagine life without chaos. If that is what marrying on Friday the 13th brought me, I welcome it.Most of the time. :)

My User Name

2008-03-25T07:46:00.000-07:00

If you look at my profile, you'll see that my "name" is gsd4de.

My husband has never liked that moniker. He thinks I'm trying to be clever. But if pressed, he can't come up with anything better so he keeps quiet. He isn't a fan of custom license plates either unless they are really brilliant, so I take his ribbing with a bucket of salt...

gsd4de stands for 'German Shepherd Dogs "for" De'. For 16 years my husband and I have had German Shepherds. That is, until our last gsd Gracie died this past summer. I had always planned on starting a kennel and raising beautiful, intelligent, friendly, healthy german shepherds. So maybe that screen name makes a little more sense to everyone.

And maybe you are all agreeing with my husband that it isn't clever enough. :)

Now that we no longer have german shepherds (which still feels really strange after so many years with them), my name makes even less sense now than it did before. But what do you do? I have had that name for so long now that everything is tied to it. I have TWO e-mail addresses with that listed. I am registered on a bunch of websites with that as my user name. To change it now seems like it would be similar to suddenly changing your home phone number or cell phone number and having to contact a million people to let them know.

Luckily for me I'm not feeling clever enough to come up with a snappy new name. We have two stinky toy poodles (so we aren't a completely dog-less family--although that is debateable if you don't really consider a poodle a dog...), but I don't want to be connected in anyway to poodles. They are my daughter's dogs. I don't claim them.

We also have a cat. She is stinky too, and I'm allergic to her so obviously that isn't even my first choice on the 2nd page.

I pretend we don't own three mice that are leftovers from my daughter's science fair project. So I won't go there.

Some people use things about themselves like Gr8Mom, ScrappingMachine, AustenLvr, etc. But since mine would read more like YouWantMeToCleanWhat?, GoAwayI'mReading, or It'sNotThePantsThatMakeMeLookFat...I don't see me coming up with anything short enough to describe myself in an internet friendly username.

So for now I'm stuck with gsd4de. Maybe I can make it stand for something else, but since I have to explain it as it is anyway that probably won't make much difference. Although it would be fun to randomly change the meaning.

Got Sons (&) Daughters 'for' Deserving Empathy

Gee, Someone Does "40" (4d) Easily

Get Some Donuts 'for' Delectible Expansion

Or not. German Shepherd Dogs 4 De works okay. Maybe it isn't all that clever, and you won't see it on any license plate...and it no longer makes sense since we don't actually have a real dog anymore. But it's me.

Writing Convention

2008-03-21T21:15:00.000-07:00

I attended day one of my first writer's convention today. Day two is tomorrow. (Nice and orderly...) I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm pretty sure that even if tomorrow is horrible, I will have liked it well enough to already be looking forward to next year's convention.

It was fun for a few reasons (the least of which being letting my husband be the one home with the kids, so when Dom flushed his underwear down the toilet, my hubby was the lucky guy who got to fix that particular ick).

First, it was nice meeting people who like to write. Published or not, there are some awfully friendly folk at this convention.

Second, the workshops I attended were really well done and I learned something from all of them. One thing I learned is that there is no way I will win (or even place) in the 'First Chapters Writing Contest'. Which is actually a good thing. The minute they talked about POV I cringed and realized that I had inadvertantly done just that--switched point of view in the middle of a page. So regardless of anything else in my story, just that glaring error that shows my novice-ness (is that a word??) is enough to bump me back down the list. This year. Next year I'll go into it with a little more savvy. I might not win next year either, but I'm already looking forward to making it a close contest between me and the third place guy or gal. :)

[And just an addition--I was right in my contest assessment--I didn't win. But I got some great critiques that will do nothing but help me write (re-write) my book and I'm looking forward to getting at it tomorrow. And I DID win a lovely gift basket from Jewel Adams...so that was a huge bonus. She is great.]

Third, it was good to just think about writing for a couple of days. To learn about aspects of writing...research, self-publishing, self-promotion...the list goes on and on. So much learned in such a little time. And none of the discussions centered around the merits of who would win in an arm wrestle--Spongebob or Patrick.

[Speaking of Patrick--and I apologize for flinging myself completely off topic, but my 4 year old daughter asked me if there is a Saint Spongebob day since there is a St. Patrick's Day. Took me a minute to figure out what in the heck she was talking about "St. Spongebob???" but she cracked me up. The stink.]

So, what are some things I learned from the convention that I will implement immediately? I will tell people I am a writer. I will write more often in my blog and will read other blogs of authors and people "in the know", so that I improve and tighten up my own writing. I will choose to make time to write.

I will also try to think a bit before popping off when people ask me if I write. For example, when a lady sits next to me at a writing convention and asks "Are you a writer?" and I say "I pretend to be one." I will think first and NOT say that on the off chance said lady is an editor. [Yes, this happened, but luckily she didn't hold it against me and we ended up having a nice conversation and she gave me her card and requested that I send her something when I'm ready]. And I also won't tell a friend of mine when she finds out I was at a writer's convention and asks "Do you write?" and I say "Yes" (because I learned from the other example), and she says "Is it secret?" and I again pop off with the "No, it's sacred". Goodness, who in the world will take me halfway seriously if my smart mouth takes off before my brain tells it to keep shut?

So there you go. I am a writer.

And you thought I was just a rambler. :)