It's hard to remember a whole week, let alone a year, but here are the moments that stand out the most from this past year, in whatever order they occur to my brain:
10. Eating at La Caille on our 10th anniversary. Layne took me there the night that we got engaged. I was such an uncouth redneck that I didn't know that steak tartar was raw meat. I ordered it for an appetizer because whatever it was, it had to be better than the snails that Layne was eating. This time, I knew to order their French Onion Soup and Filet Mignon. I love their chocolate-dipped strawberries that look like they are wearing tuxedos!
9. 6 days in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Not a place I ever would have chosen to go on my own, but a free trip is a free trip! And, as it turns out, it is a beautiful city.
8. Yellowstone in the fall. We spent a few days in October with my parents and some of my sisters and their families. Seeing the bear next to the road was awesome. Finishing the ride from Old Faithful to West Yellowstone was even awesome-er. (My blog, I'll make up words if I want :-)
7. Disneyland with our friends. After a few times, we've got the 5 day Disneyland trip down to a science. We know where to stay, how to do it cheapest, what rides to hit first and where to eat. (Tortilla Jo's. Guacamole. Gooooood stuff.) This time, we went with friends who have kids the same age as ours and had another great trip.
6. Finishing my first century (100 mile) ride in June. You'll notice I said "finishing", not "riding". That part almost killed me. Layne just finished signing us up for it again. I had to go change my pants, as it scared the crap right out of me.
5. Realizing that I actually achieved 4 of the 5 New Year's Resolutions that I made last year. The fifth one (lose 20 pounds) I think that I actually achieved as well, as I gained, then lost, then gained, then lost the same 3 pounds over and over during the year. Thinking that way, I actually exceeded my goal, I'm sure. I never said that I couldn't gain them back as I went!
4. Mesquite / St. George trip in the spring. It was awesome to go see our friends who moved to Hurricane last year. Miss you, Gina!
3. Riding the Salt Lake Marathon bike race in April. This one WAS a blast to ride. Only 26 miles on closed roads in Salt Lake City. Anyone want to join me this year?
2. President Hinckley's funeral. Not a fun moment, but a very spiritually satisfying one for me.
1. Walking into my new kitchen with everything exactly as I wanted it! I still like scrubbing the sink and mopping the floor.
Happy New Year!!!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
10 Reasons I've Gained 8 Pounds in 3 Weeks.
10. I haven't been to Pilates in 3 weeks. I feel my abs turning to Jello as we speak.
9. Jello. And potato salad. And that green pistachio stuff. All the salads, which I normally never make nor eat contributed to my diet delinquency.
8. Almond Toffee. Lots of it. Dang that sister-in-law!
7. Snowboarding. I know, you'd think that would burn calories, right? Not when I wrenched my knee within my first 30 minutes of trying, which has kept me off my bike trainer for a week. I know, I was only burning 500 calories a day doing it, but when you're eating like you're pregnant with triplets, every 500 calories helps.
6. Hersheys. Kisses, M&Ms, fudge, chocolate chips, Reeses peanut butter cups... they all have their place in my sad story.
5. Christmas punch. Nothing like drinking a full day's worth of calories in a single meal.
4. Christmas Ham. 1000 calories of honey-baked goodness. On a daily basis. (Seriously, when is the ham going to be gone? And does me eating more of it to get it gone faster really do me any good?)
3. Kid's stockings. You'd think I would have been smart like I was for Easter and filled their stockings full of stuff I hate, or at least stuff I can resist. Now they keep wondering why their stash of Christmas candy keeps disappearing. I say nothing. I always taught them not to speak with their mouths full.
2. Neighbors. They all want to see me fat again, I guess, as they keep bringing me tasty temptations and leaving them on my doorstep. One of these days, my REAL friends will bring me some carrot sticks and a rec center class schedule.
1. Cookies. They are everywhere. I haven't had them or made them for months, and now I'm stuffing them in my face like I'm afraid I may never get them again. Enough already. I give up.
9. Jello. And potato salad. And that green pistachio stuff. All the salads, which I normally never make nor eat contributed to my diet delinquency.
8. Almond Toffee. Lots of it. Dang that sister-in-law!
7. Snowboarding. I know, you'd think that would burn calories, right? Not when I wrenched my knee within my first 30 minutes of trying, which has kept me off my bike trainer for a week. I know, I was only burning 500 calories a day doing it, but when you're eating like you're pregnant with triplets, every 500 calories helps.
6. Hersheys. Kisses, M&Ms, fudge, chocolate chips, Reeses peanut butter cups... they all have their place in my sad story.
5. Christmas punch. Nothing like drinking a full day's worth of calories in a single meal.
4. Christmas Ham. 1000 calories of honey-baked goodness. On a daily basis. (Seriously, when is the ham going to be gone? And does me eating more of it to get it gone faster really do me any good?)
3. Kid's stockings. You'd think I would have been smart like I was for Easter and filled their stockings full of stuff I hate, or at least stuff I can resist. Now they keep wondering why their stash of Christmas candy keeps disappearing. I say nothing. I always taught them not to speak with their mouths full.
2. Neighbors. They all want to see me fat again, I guess, as they keep bringing me tasty temptations and leaving them on my doorstep. One of these days, my REAL friends will bring me some carrot sticks and a rec center class schedule.
1. Cookies. They are everywhere. I haven't had them or made them for months, and now I'm stuffing them in my face like I'm afraid I may never get them again. Enough already. I give up.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Santa's Makeover
‘Twas the day before Christmas, and all through my house,
Every creature was stirring, each dog, kid, and mouse.
The kids ran amuck, fueled by excitement and candy
(About now, some Benedryl would come in quite handy!)
The presents are wrapped, well, most of the lot,
And I was sitting here wondering who I forgot.
I fought all the crowds in search of a deal,
I’ve fixed salads and cookies for the pre-Christmas meal.
The house is not clean, but not too dirty either
And I decided it was time to sit down for a breather.
When what to my dozy eyes should appear
But a cool looking sleigh pulled by 8 well-groomed reindeer.
The man that jumped out was no jolly old elf,
My jaw dropped when I saw him, in spite of my self.
He was dressed in Armani from his head to his toes,
Not a speck of ash could be seen on his clothes.
His skin was all tan, like a native Hawaiian
His muscles were flexed, without even tryin’.
His hair was dyed black, cut and gelled to perfection
It seems dear old Santa’s had a change of direction.
I cleared my throat and he looked over my way
He winked and I blushed, hey, what can I say?
The fat, red old Santa, this guy’s certainly NOT
I have to admit, this St. Nick sure is hot!
When I asked him what caused change in such a degree,
He admitted to watching reality t.v.
Seems that during the year, he let the elves all take over
And Santa flew to Hollywood for a serious makeover.
Even the gifts that he brought were just way too much
All Ipods and gift cards and cell phones and such.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
Then tossing his bangs like some super-cool skater,
He winked and he said “Hey Babe, Catch you later.”
My heart skipped a beat as up the chimney he flew,
And I ran to the window—trust me, you would have too.
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a wicked cool night!
Every creature was stirring, each dog, kid, and mouse.
The kids ran amuck, fueled by excitement and candy
(About now, some Benedryl would come in quite handy!)
The presents are wrapped, well, most of the lot,
And I was sitting here wondering who I forgot.
I fought all the crowds in search of a deal,
I’ve fixed salads and cookies for the pre-Christmas meal.
The house is not clean, but not too dirty either
And I decided it was time to sit down for a breather.
When what to my dozy eyes should appear
But a cool looking sleigh pulled by 8 well-groomed reindeer.
The man that jumped out was no jolly old elf,
My jaw dropped when I saw him, in spite of my self.
He was dressed in Armani from his head to his toes,
Not a speck of ash could be seen on his clothes.
His skin was all tan, like a native Hawaiian
His muscles were flexed, without even tryin’.
His hair was dyed black, cut and gelled to perfection
It seems dear old Santa’s had a change of direction.
I cleared my throat and he looked over my way
He winked and I blushed, hey, what can I say?
The fat, red old Santa, this guy’s certainly NOT
I have to admit, this St. Nick sure is hot!
When I asked him what caused change in such a degree,
He admitted to watching reality t.v.
Seems that during the year, he let the elves all take over
And Santa flew to Hollywood for a serious makeover.
Even the gifts that he brought were just way too much
All Ipods and gift cards and cell phones and such.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
Then tossing his bangs like some super-cool skater,
He winked and he said “Hey Babe, Catch you later.”
My heart skipped a beat as up the chimney he flew,
And I ran to the window—trust me, you would have too.
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a wicked cool night!
Confessions of a New Insomniac
I have been blessed with one great talent in life-- sleeping. Sure, I have other minor talents (I am great at vacuuming, although I should practice a little more, and I give killer shoulder rubs), but my main claim to fame is snoozing.
I get it from my dad. This inherited super-power means that no matter what is going on in my life, I'm always able to escape for 8 hours of dozy bliss. That is, until now.
I've lost my gift and I can't figure out why. For the last 3 weeks, I struggle a little to fall asleep, but eventually do. The problem is that I wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning and either can't get back to sleep at all, or I do that weird dream for 20 minutes, wake-up and think "what the heck was that all about?", then try to go back to sleep for an hour-thing, then start the cycle all over.
Layne tells me it is always that way for him. (You see, he is NOT a talented sleeper.) He, however, functions well on 5 hours of sleep a night. I, on the other hand, NEED 8. (This is a major reason why I am done having babies. I turn into a walking-migraine, psycho-hose-beast when I go more than a day or two with inadequate sleep.)
Which means, like the Hulk, I feel myself turning into said beast. Not good. Especially for Christmas Eve.
It starts by me saying some things out loud that probably shouldn't have even been in my head. Next, I start picking on Layne and the kids for things like making footprints in my freshly vacuumed carpet. (Why can't you just levitate to your bedrooms?) Pretty soon, I start foaming at the mouth.
I can't figure out what brought this on. I'm no more stressed out than usual. The only lifestyle change I can come up with is that I quit drinking caffeine about the same time I lost my power. Could that be???
I get it from my dad. This inherited super-power means that no matter what is going on in my life, I'm always able to escape for 8 hours of dozy bliss. That is, until now.
I've lost my gift and I can't figure out why. For the last 3 weeks, I struggle a little to fall asleep, but eventually do. The problem is that I wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning and either can't get back to sleep at all, or I do that weird dream for 20 minutes, wake-up and think "what the heck was that all about?", then try to go back to sleep for an hour-thing, then start the cycle all over.
Layne tells me it is always that way for him. (You see, he is NOT a talented sleeper.) He, however, functions well on 5 hours of sleep a night. I, on the other hand, NEED 8. (This is a major reason why I am done having babies. I turn into a walking-migraine, psycho-hose-beast when I go more than a day or two with inadequate sleep.)
Which means, like the Hulk, I feel myself turning into said beast. Not good. Especially for Christmas Eve.
It starts by me saying some things out loud that probably shouldn't have even been in my head. Next, I start picking on Layne and the kids for things like making footprints in my freshly vacuumed carpet. (Why can't you just levitate to your bedrooms?) Pretty soon, I start foaming at the mouth.
I can't figure out what brought this on. I'm no more stressed out than usual. The only lifestyle change I can come up with is that I quit drinking caffeine about the same time I lost my power. Could that be???
Monday, December 22, 2008
Holiday Observations
1. I'm getting a kick out of Mike's version of "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas." He thinks he's singing the right words, but here's what he's actually singing:
"Have a holly-jolly Christmas...
Yo-ho, the mistletoe (it's the pirate version, I guess)
Helping you and me
Somebody waits by it,
Hoping it is me."
Might be the only way the poor little guy's gonna get smooched.
2. Zoo lights. We had a blast Thursday night at the zoo, but when I got thinking about it, I think that we actually only saw 3 or 4 animals. Seriously, where were the penguins? You'd think they'd be loving this weather!
3. Snow. Snow. More snow. Layne cancelled clinic this afternoon (didn't want all of the old folks driving in the storm) so he came home early and we shoveled snow. For 3 hours. I haven't had such a good workout in I don't know how long. Everything hurts. Good point is that my new coat and boots were AWESOME.
4. I made my kids work pretty much all day long cleaning out the toy room and their bedrooms. We essentially spent the better part of a day finding stuff they could get rid of to make room for more stuff. Something's fishy here. . . Spoiled little boogers.
5. Alvin and the Chipmunks. I used to watch them when I was little (who can forget "Christmas, Christmas time is here. . ."?) I found the Chipmunks Christmas video the other day at the store. My kids love it. They also love How the Grinch Stole Christmas and the old versions of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman. All of those shows are as old as the hills. Still good stuff for kids, though. (And still pretty annoying to parents, which I never realized until I was one.)
I hope that you all have a very Merry Christmas and a Wonderful New Year!
"Have a holly-jolly Christmas...
Yo-ho, the mistletoe (it's the pirate version, I guess)
Helping you and me
Somebody waits by it,
Hoping it is me."
Might be the only way the poor little guy's gonna get smooched.
2. Zoo lights. We had a blast Thursday night at the zoo, but when I got thinking about it, I think that we actually only saw 3 or 4 animals. Seriously, where were the penguins? You'd think they'd be loving this weather!
3. Snow. Snow. More snow. Layne cancelled clinic this afternoon (didn't want all of the old folks driving in the storm) so he came home early and we shoveled snow. For 3 hours. I haven't had such a good workout in I don't know how long. Everything hurts. Good point is that my new coat and boots were AWESOME.
4. I made my kids work pretty much all day long cleaning out the toy room and their bedrooms. We essentially spent the better part of a day finding stuff they could get rid of to make room for more stuff. Something's fishy here. . . Spoiled little boogers.
5. Alvin and the Chipmunks. I used to watch them when I was little (who can forget "Christmas, Christmas time is here. . ."?) I found the Chipmunks Christmas video the other day at the store. My kids love it. They also love How the Grinch Stole Christmas and the old versions of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman. All of those shows are as old as the hills. Still good stuff for kids, though. (And still pretty annoying to parents, which I never realized until I was one.)
I hope that you all have a very Merry Christmas and a Wonderful New Year!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Just When You Think Your Kids are Boring. . .
I know, I know, what fool would think that? I confess, I did the other night. We went to a family party on Monday. My mom has 9 brothers and sisters and, well, lets just say they have some good stories to tell. Some involve bows and arrows and b.b. guns. Some involve chalk on walls and jumping out of planes. Some involve the police.
As I sat there listening and laughing, I turned to Layne and said, "Man, this makes our kids sound boring." Dumb move. Way to call down cosmic karma.
Last night when I was at church meetings, Layne heard giggling and then strange thumping. This is what he saw:
Mike and Doug were ticked off that the junior high kids had slid all of the snow off the hill at the park. They devised a way to try out Doug's new sled.
Who could really blame them? If there wasn't a big GLASS display case at the bottom of the stairs, it would have been fine. Yeah, right. Kind of reminds me of the time I was babysitting the Oakman twins and found one of them pushing the other one down the stairs, IN A SUITCASE. They just wanted to try what they'd seen on a Samsonite commercial on t.v.
Lest I be tempted to think that my children are perfect, I am "blessed" with moments like these. . .
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Where the heck are the deals?
I keep hearing on the news that the stores are in trouble and that they are slashing prices in order to get people to buy stuff.
I keep going to the stores in search of said deals, but I haven't found anything news worthy. Well, except for a coat for Em that was on clearance for $11.74, but that's about it.
That means one of three things:
1. Trickery. The stores are just claiming to have great deals in order to get my moolah. Wouldn't put it past them.
2. I don't know how to shop. Can't be that. If you knew my mother, you'd know that I was taught from an early age how to be a bargain shopper. I think I've said this before-- in my family, if the gift you get someone was a great deal, a big part of the present is to tell them how much you paid for said present. We like the bargain part as well as the gift itself.
3. I'm too good of a shopper. I'm already so good at finding deals that it just seems normal out there to me.
I don't know which one of these things it is, but I know I'm not impressed. I hope that I'm just about done. So does Layne.
I keep going to the stores in search of said deals, but I haven't found anything news worthy. Well, except for a coat for Em that was on clearance for $11.74, but that's about it.
That means one of three things:
1. Trickery. The stores are just claiming to have great deals in order to get my moolah. Wouldn't put it past them.
2. I don't know how to shop. Can't be that. If you knew my mother, you'd know that I was taught from an early age how to be a bargain shopper. I think I've said this before-- in my family, if the gift you get someone was a great deal, a big part of the present is to tell them how much you paid for said present. We like the bargain part as well as the gift itself.
3. I'm too good of a shopper. I'm already so good at finding deals that it just seems normal out there to me.
I don't know which one of these things it is, but I know I'm not impressed. I hope that I'm just about done. So does Layne.
Monday, December 15, 2008
2 Weeks Off The D.C.!
I've hit my 2 weeks of caffeine freedom today. This is the longest I've gone without a drop in I don't know how long.
I've "quit" a couple of times before. In the last year, as a matter of fact, but it was a half-hearted effort. It was more like I quit drinking it at home, because I would still drink it when I was out. I never really got off it that way, as you can imagine, and it was pretty easy to slip back into old habits.
Seriously, I've not had a drop for 2 weeks. I've lusted after it, but my self control amazingly has held out. Weird enough, I can't seem to sleep. I know, it's supposed to have the opposite effect, but my body never reacts normally to drugs.
So, like the drug addict I am, I'm counting the clean days and hoping to stick it out. . .
I've "quit" a couple of times before. In the last year, as a matter of fact, but it was a half-hearted effort. It was more like I quit drinking it at home, because I would still drink it when I was out. I never really got off it that way, as you can imagine, and it was pretty easy to slip back into old habits.
Seriously, I've not had a drop for 2 weeks. I've lusted after it, but my self control amazingly has held out. Weird enough, I can't seem to sleep. I know, it's supposed to have the opposite effect, but my body never reacts normally to drugs.
So, like the drug addict I am, I'm counting the clean days and hoping to stick it out. . .
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Gifts of Christmas
I had to teach a lesson last Sunday about the best gifts of Christmas. It was based on a talk by President Hunter. It really got me thinking about some of the wonderful gifts I've been given so far this year. I can't send thank-you cards for most of these, so I thought I'd mention them here.
Thank you to all of the people who put lights on their houses. Christmas lights are my favorite part of the season, I think. I love to drive around at night and admire how people decorate their houses. So, I know that it's a pain to get them up there, but thank you. All of you. (Except the people who have the giant blow-up Santa riding a Harley. My jury's still out on that one.)
Thank you to my mom and dad for watching my kids tonight so that Layne and I could go and do some "elfing". You are awesome.
Thank you to all of the volunteers who have made our Christmas season fantastic so far. All of the people who arranged and ran the Santa parade at the Star Mill were great. The Creche exhibit that we saw in Midway was fantastic and must have taken thousands of hours of work, as did the hundred or so gingerbread houses in the gingerbread exhibit. All of the volunteers at Temple Square were so friendly. My family has had a wonderful time because a lot of people cared enough to give a little of their time.
Thank you to my fifteen year old cousin who watched all of my kids an all of my sister's kids (8 in all) last week while we went to a movie. That was brave. Better yet, when we came home, they were all sitting quietly watching a movie on the couch. She's a magician. Shaylie, will you come live at my house?
Thank you to whoever ended up cleaning up the party at Layne's mom's house on Tuesday night. I felt really bad leaving the mess to go to a meeting.
Thank you to my friend who made me a beautiful star for Christmas and wrote me a card that was just a beautiful to go with it. You are amazing.
These are just a few of the things I've thought of so far, but I'm going to pay much more attention to the intangible gifts I'm given every day during this season and try to bestow a few of my own...
Thank you to all of the people who put lights on their houses. Christmas lights are my favorite part of the season, I think. I love to drive around at night and admire how people decorate their houses. So, I know that it's a pain to get them up there, but thank you. All of you. (Except the people who have the giant blow-up Santa riding a Harley. My jury's still out on that one.)
Thank you to my mom and dad for watching my kids tonight so that Layne and I could go and do some "elfing". You are awesome.
Thank you to all of the volunteers who have made our Christmas season fantastic so far. All of the people who arranged and ran the Santa parade at the Star Mill were great. The Creche exhibit that we saw in Midway was fantastic and must have taken thousands of hours of work, as did the hundred or so gingerbread houses in the gingerbread exhibit. All of the volunteers at Temple Square were so friendly. My family has had a wonderful time because a lot of people cared enough to give a little of their time.
Thank you to my fifteen year old cousin who watched all of my kids an all of my sister's kids (8 in all) last week while we went to a movie. That was brave. Better yet, when we came home, they were all sitting quietly watching a movie on the couch. She's a magician. Shaylie, will you come live at my house?
Thank you to whoever ended up cleaning up the party at Layne's mom's house on Tuesday night. I felt really bad leaving the mess to go to a meeting.
Thank you to my friend who made me a beautiful star for Christmas and wrote me a card that was just a beautiful to go with it. You are amazing.
These are just a few of the things I've thought of so far, but I'm going to pay much more attention to the intangible gifts I'm given every day during this season and try to bestow a few of my own...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The Annual Pilgrimage
Last night we made our annual trek to Temple Square to see the lights and displays. We had to guilt my mom and dad into going, but of course it wouldn't be the same without them. Two of my sisters buggered out (you know who you are), but the rest of us had a very nice time.
I didn't take my super-cool camera (wish I would have.) And, I was a total dork mother and forgot the bag of hats, gloves and scarves I had so carefully prepared. Luckily, it wasn't too cold, so no one lost any digits to frostbite.
Here are a few of the snapshots I got with my point-n-shoot:
I didn't take my super-cool camera (wish I would have.) And, I was a total dork mother and forgot the bag of hats, gloves and scarves I had so carefully prepared. Luckily, it wasn't too cold, so no one lost any digits to frostbite.
Here are a few of the snapshots I got with my point-n-shoot:
Always have to watch the nativity scene...
Dad, Emalee and my beautiful mother.
Layne, Doug and Mike. Layne was trying to smile, but he was having an "I hate people" moment. Besides the traffic and no parking problems of downtown, there were a few Young Men/Women groups at Temple Square who kept stopping and blocking up the whole sidewalk. Clueless.
This was a pretty good shot, but could have been really cool with my Nikon.
My parents and family. I swear, my kids are going to think I never went anywhere with them because I am never in the pictures.
The camera doesn't do justice to this picture. The full moon was shining between the lit branches of this tree-- it was fantastic. You'll have to trust me on that one, 'cause this shot kind of stinks.
I love this reflecting pool with the nativity in the middle. Last night was the first time we've been up there for years when someone wasn't getting proposed to right there. Almost as public and embarrassing as the billboard at the Jazz game.
Reflecting pool again... I remember going to Temple Square with my family as a kid. There was always more snow and we wore our sexy moon boots. Seems like there were more lights back then...
Definitely feels like Christmas now.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
They Start Young
Friday night, Layne took the boys to a Utah Flash game with some of their boy cousins. (Imagine a mini-van full of 6 boys and 2 dads. Crazy.)
Their dads took them to Sonic afterward for a shake. Apparently there was a cute girl making the food on the other side of the door. All of the boys-- ages 2 to 10 started FLIRTING and dancing for this girl.
We girls met them there and found this humiliation going on. They all say they hate stinky girls, but they were trying their best to get this one to laugh! I wish I wouldn't have been too embarrassed to go and see exactly HOW cute this girl was. And maybe apologize to her for my young Romeos. . .
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Canned Santa
I hope that you can see what this picture is showing-- it is "Canned Santa Claus". I took this picture at an antique shop and it made me laugh. Seriously, what the heck is canned Santa Claus?
The back of the can says that this way you can have Santa all year round. What IS this stuff? What do you do with it? I can see it now:
"What did you have for lunch today, Mom?"
"I had a Santa-salad sandwich. It was delicious."
Don't think it goes over well.
Christmas Saturday
Just a few fun pics from a great day. We went to the Star Mill to see Santa come in on a fire engine (where the heck are the reindeer?) and then we drove to Midway to see the Creche exhibit. There are great pics to be taken at the Star Mill!
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Old Tricks
My boys have been having a hard time staying in bed for the last few weeks. We put them down and then hear the pitter-patter of ever-growing feet right above our heads for up to an hour afterward.
Last night, I pulled out the big guns. I told the little stinkers that if I heard them out of bed for anything besides going to the bathroom (and only that if absolutely necessary), I was going to have to call Santa.
Their eyes got big and Doug asked me how I know Santa's number and I told him that all parents know it. I could see Mike's head spinning with the ideas of what he could add to his list if he had the Big Man's direct line, and he asked "when do I get his number?"
I told him I would pass it on the day that he had a baby of his own. He looked at me like I was an idiot and reminded me that boys don't HAVE babies. Duh, Mom.
I corrected myself and told him that I'd give it to him the day his WIFE had a baby. That satisfied them both and they went right to bed. And stayed there.
This morning, Mike got himself up at 7:00, got dressed, practiced the piano, did his reading for school, and made his bed before I even came downstairs.
It's so awesome when the tricks my mom used on me work on my kids! I've been waiting for years to use that one. At least I didn't have to get the phone and pretend to dial a number like my mom did...
Last night, I pulled out the big guns. I told the little stinkers that if I heard them out of bed for anything besides going to the bathroom (and only that if absolutely necessary), I was going to have to call Santa.
Their eyes got big and Doug asked me how I know Santa's number and I told him that all parents know it. I could see Mike's head spinning with the ideas of what he could add to his list if he had the Big Man's direct line, and he asked "when do I get his number?"
I told him I would pass it on the day that he had a baby of his own. He looked at me like I was an idiot and reminded me that boys don't HAVE babies. Duh, Mom.
I corrected myself and told him that I'd give it to him the day his WIFE had a baby. That satisfied them both and they went right to bed. And stayed there.
This morning, Mike got himself up at 7:00, got dressed, practiced the piano, did his reading for school, and made his bed before I even came downstairs.
It's so awesome when the tricks my mom used on me work on my kids! I've been waiting for years to use that one. At least I didn't have to get the phone and pretend to dial a number like my mom did...
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Day 2 of the No-Caffeine Plan
Anybody read through this month's Ensign? There's a big old article on the dangers of caffeine addiction. The short story of it is that I read it, then felt guilt.
I've quit drinking caffeine at least 1376 times. My problem is this-- without caffeine, I fall asleep at 8:00 pm. Layne hates it when I quit-- he says I'm boring. You see, I inherited a genetic trait from my dad-- when I sit down at night, I fall asleep. It doesn't matter if I'm watching a movie, a tv show or playing a game. When it hits dark, my eyelids fall.
When I drink a diet coke or diet D.P. during the day, the caffeine keeps me awake until 10:30 or 11:00. That's about when Layne is ready to turn in, so it has always worked well. Until I read the Ensign. And felt the guilt.
So now I've quit. Again.
My head hurts.
I was too tired to get up at 6:00 this morning and exercise.
I want to sleep. All the time.
Layne will be sad when I fall asleep after dinner.
But I don't feel guilt.
I can't wait for a few days to pass so that I can forget the Ensign and wake up again.
Or maybe I can find some other way to stay awake. Any ideas?
I've quit drinking caffeine at least 1376 times. My problem is this-- without caffeine, I fall asleep at 8:00 pm. Layne hates it when I quit-- he says I'm boring. You see, I inherited a genetic trait from my dad-- when I sit down at night, I fall asleep. It doesn't matter if I'm watching a movie, a tv show or playing a game. When it hits dark, my eyelids fall.
When I drink a diet coke or diet D.P. during the day, the caffeine keeps me awake until 10:30 or 11:00. That's about when Layne is ready to turn in, so it has always worked well. Until I read the Ensign. And felt the guilt.
So now I've quit. Again.
My head hurts.
I was too tired to get up at 6:00 this morning and exercise.
I want to sleep. All the time.
Layne will be sad when I fall asleep after dinner.
But I don't feel guilt.
I can't wait for a few days to pass so that I can forget the Ensign and wake up again.
Or maybe I can find some other way to stay awake. Any ideas?
Monday, December 01, 2008
Super Cyber Monday
So, I've found my shopping groove. I had an hour or so before Layne got home from work and I jumped online to see if there was anything to the whole "Cyber Monday" thing. My opinion: it rocks.
While sitting on my couch, watching my sons play with their Fisher Price nativity set (tell me again why Baby Jesus is on top of the manger?), I purchased most of the rest of the presents I've been looking for. Most everyone had free shipping and killer deals. I got what I wanted and it will be delivered to my door in 5-7 business days.
Best of all, this shopping trip did not require that I wake up a 4 o'clock in the morning, I didn't get bruised by anyone's elbows, and I could simultaneously check the prices from JCPenney, Kohl's, Sears and Walmart at the same time.
Dual Wii Lightsaber controllers: $19.99. Really cool present for Layne: $37.88. Shopping with no shoes and no crazy shoppers: priceless.
While sitting on my couch, watching my sons play with their Fisher Price nativity set (tell me again why Baby Jesus is on top of the manger?), I purchased most of the rest of the presents I've been looking for. Most everyone had free shipping and killer deals. I got what I wanted and it will be delivered to my door in 5-7 business days.
Best of all, this shopping trip did not require that I wake up a 4 o'clock in the morning, I didn't get bruised by anyone's elbows, and I could simultaneously check the prices from JCPenney, Kohl's, Sears and Walmart at the same time.
Dual Wii Lightsaber controllers: $19.99. Really cool present for Layne: $37.88. Shopping with no shoes and no crazy shoppers: priceless.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
We've been playing with our new camera-- here's some of the stuff we did this week:
Doug at the park during some of the fantastic fall days last week.
Emalee decorating the tree in her room.
Mike decorating his tree.
One of the "Great Balls of Fire" that I found and hung in place of my flower baskets.
Our house all lit up. This is the first time we've hung lights outside for 10 years. Layne did it because he felt guilty for not carving pumpkins this year with the kids. The lights are his way of making it up. And because he needed to clean out the gutters anyway.
Mikey running the ball in our annual Thanksgiving Turkey Bowl. The Bearss kicked butt. Again.
Here's me going up for a pass from Layne. This is the play where the ball hit me in the nose and I tried not to cry. There's NO CRYING IN FOOTBALL, even two-hand touch.
Mike playing in the leaves. I love his expression here.
Em in the leaves.
Doug taking a rest from the 30 seconds of raking he managed.
Doug at the park during some of the fantastic fall days last week.
Emalee decorating the tree in her room.
Mike decorating his tree.
One of the "Great Balls of Fire" that I found and hung in place of my flower baskets.
Our house all lit up. This is the first time we've hung lights outside for 10 years. Layne did it because he felt guilty for not carving pumpkins this year with the kids. The lights are his way of making it up. And because he needed to clean out the gutters anyway.
Mikey running the ball in our annual Thanksgiving Turkey Bowl. The Bearss kicked butt. Again.
Here's me going up for a pass from Layne. This is the play where the ball hit me in the nose and I tried not to cry. There's NO CRYING IN FOOTBALL, even two-hand touch.
Mike playing in the leaves. I love his expression here.
Em in the leaves.
Doug taking a rest from the 30 seconds of raking he managed.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Black (And Blue) Friday
The other night, I saw a pretty disturbing episode of some crime drama on t.v. I remember thinking as I watched it that it's a good thing this is just crazy fiction and that people aren't really depraved monsters. Unfortunately I changed my mind about that today. Why? It's called Black Friday.
My sisters love the mayhem of the biggest shopping day of the year. I have joined them once or twice at around 8:00 a.m., long after the carnage has ceased. They always try to get me to come and I always say that I will, if I feel like getting up at Oh-Dark-Thirty. Hadn't happened yet. Until today.
Due to my unfortunate eating of too much dinner and then playing too much football (did I mention that my sister and I are a little competitive?), I got very little sleep last night. I was awake at 4 am anyway, so I thought I'd see what it's all about.
The number of cars on the road shocked me. When I pulled into the rainy Wal-Mart parking lot, I knew I was in trouble. I parked somewhere in Indiana and ran into the store in the rain.
When I got through the door, it was like I had entered a war zone. Some guy was standing there handing out maps. Groups of women in battle-mom fatigues (track pants and hoodies-- at least I was dressed correctly) were standing around with grease pencils and walkie-talkies making attack plans. I felt like I'd just stepped into Faluja.
They knew where to go and what to do. I had no clue where to start. I knew that my sisters where somewhere in the "hot zone", but they could have been anywhere between the $4 pajamas and the $399 flat panel big screens. I started to sweat.
All of the war booty was wrapped in cellophane and guarded by an unfortunate Wal-Mart operative. Crazy people were standing around with their hands on the piles, waiting for the 5 o'clock bell. Every minute or so, an announcement came over the loud speaker counting down to lift off and stirring up the crowd to near frenzy level. I knew I was out-planned, out-manned and generally out of luck. I camped next to the $4 track suits and hunkered down.
I've never seen anything so crazy as the moment when the bell went off. People grabbed as many $2 DVDs as they could get their hands on. (Do you really need 18 copies of August Rush?) A group of 30 women fought over 10 Kitchen Aid Mixers and nearly smothered a 70 year old woman who had the nerve to grab two.
I grabbed some fleece lined slippers, a hoodie and some stuff for my boys and decided to bail-- most of the stuff I wanted was at Target anyway. I got in line and watched in amazement as the organized units of women ran their battle plans. One would stand in the line with two carts and the others would run back and forth hauling in the loot. My armful of crap was pitiful in comparison. When I heard them announce that anyone with less than 20 items could go to the service desk, I ran, but I didn't need to. I was the only one with such a lame load. I left quickly with my head hung in shame.
To make too long a post a little shorter, I'll just say that I did a little better at Target. I had to stand in line for 45 minutes in the cold, but it gave me time to make a plan. It also gave me time to gather my troops and get a strategy. We got most of the stuff we wanted, stood in the check out lines for about an hour, tried to fight off all of the hosers who were butting in line (lost some of those battles), and made some new standing-in-line-together comrades.
I was home before my family even woke up. I fought hard for my $200 worth of Christmas shiz. I saved about $100 all told I think. Next time I'm going to pay my sister the $100 to get my stuff for me and I'm staying in bed.
My sisters love the mayhem of the biggest shopping day of the year. I have joined them once or twice at around 8:00 a.m., long after the carnage has ceased. They always try to get me to come and I always say that I will, if I feel like getting up at Oh-Dark-Thirty. Hadn't happened yet. Until today.
Due to my unfortunate eating of too much dinner and then playing too much football (did I mention that my sister and I are a little competitive?), I got very little sleep last night. I was awake at 4 am anyway, so I thought I'd see what it's all about.
The number of cars on the road shocked me. When I pulled into the rainy Wal-Mart parking lot, I knew I was in trouble. I parked somewhere in Indiana and ran into the store in the rain.
When I got through the door, it was like I had entered a war zone. Some guy was standing there handing out maps. Groups of women in battle-mom fatigues (track pants and hoodies-- at least I was dressed correctly) were standing around with grease pencils and walkie-talkies making attack plans. I felt like I'd just stepped into Faluja.
They knew where to go and what to do. I had no clue where to start. I knew that my sisters where somewhere in the "hot zone", but they could have been anywhere between the $4 pajamas and the $399 flat panel big screens. I started to sweat.
All of the war booty was wrapped in cellophane and guarded by an unfortunate Wal-Mart operative. Crazy people were standing around with their hands on the piles, waiting for the 5 o'clock bell. Every minute or so, an announcement came over the loud speaker counting down to lift off and stirring up the crowd to near frenzy level. I knew I was out-planned, out-manned and generally out of luck. I camped next to the $4 track suits and hunkered down.
I've never seen anything so crazy as the moment when the bell went off. People grabbed as many $2 DVDs as they could get their hands on. (Do you really need 18 copies of August Rush?) A group of 30 women fought over 10 Kitchen Aid Mixers and nearly smothered a 70 year old woman who had the nerve to grab two.
I grabbed some fleece lined slippers, a hoodie and some stuff for my boys and decided to bail-- most of the stuff I wanted was at Target anyway. I got in line and watched in amazement as the organized units of women ran their battle plans. One would stand in the line with two carts and the others would run back and forth hauling in the loot. My armful of crap was pitiful in comparison. When I heard them announce that anyone with less than 20 items could go to the service desk, I ran, but I didn't need to. I was the only one with such a lame load. I left quickly with my head hung in shame.
To make too long a post a little shorter, I'll just say that I did a little better at Target. I had to stand in line for 45 minutes in the cold, but it gave me time to make a plan. It also gave me time to gather my troops and get a strategy. We got most of the stuff we wanted, stood in the check out lines for about an hour, tried to fight off all of the hosers who were butting in line (lost some of those battles), and made some new standing-in-line-together comrades.
I was home before my family even woke up. I fought hard for my $200 worth of Christmas shiz. I saved about $100 all told I think. Next time I'm going to pay my sister the $100 to get my stuff for me and I'm staying in bed.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Think to Thank
Did you know that the words "think" and "thank" have the same etymology? Originally, they had the same root word which meant to feel. I've been thinking (haha) that it is significant that our ancient English anscestors associated thinking and thanking-- perhaps they knew something that we have forgotten. . .
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
The Red Zone
Before I decided to get healthy, I knew absolutely nothing about exercise or how my body worked. I figured if I was huffing and puffing, that was good enough.
Since then, I've done a lot of reading and research and I know the whole spiel about aerobic / anaerobic exercise. I have a heart monitor and I know how to use it. However, I've developed my own exertion scale which seems to be at least as effective as my heart monitor, and it doesn't make me sweat under my bra.
Level 1: (we're talking under 120 beats per minute) I call this the "You-need-to-kick-it-into-gear-here-you're-not-doing-much-good" zone. It's way too easy to spend time in this zone when I'm exercising with friends. It's slightly better than sitting on the couch. Slightly.
Level 2: (130-150) This is the Awesome zone. This is when it feels like I am flying and I could go for pretty much the whole day, barring crazy hills or a stiff booty. I can still talk at this stage, but have to catch my breath every once in a while.
Level 3: (150-165) No Woman's Land. At this point I'm riding a little too hard for comfort or sustainability, but we're not in danger yet. I can stay in this area long enough to kick Calli's butt up the golf course road. (I spend more time than I should in this zone when Layne's riding in front of me and I'm trying to keep up.) Silly Wabbit.
Level 4: (170+) This zone has no name, other than the RED ZONE. Not red because of danger or stop or any of the other things that the color often signifies, but because that's the color of the spots I see when I get to this point. A classic symptom of this zone is a slightly metallic taste in my mouth-- I think that might have something to do with parts of my lungs exploding from the exertion. Blood is full of iron and I'm pretty sure that's what I'm tasting.
I know, that sounds terrible, and it is. Nothing that gets you that close to vomitting can be good. However, there is this incredible feeling that comes about a minute after you get out of the Red Zone that makes it all worth it. The beauty is that you are usually descending by that point, so the anaerobic endorphins combined with the exhiliration of the descent-- well, if I wrote what it's most like, your internet filter would probably block this page.
If I would have known what a buzz I could get on a bike, I would have picked it up years ago. . .
Since then, I've done a lot of reading and research and I know the whole spiel about aerobic / anaerobic exercise. I have a heart monitor and I know how to use it. However, I've developed my own exertion scale which seems to be at least as effective as my heart monitor, and it doesn't make me sweat under my bra.
Level 1: (we're talking under 120 beats per minute) I call this the "You-need-to-kick-it-into-gear-here-you're-not-doing-much-good" zone. It's way too easy to spend time in this zone when I'm exercising with friends. It's slightly better than sitting on the couch. Slightly.
Level 2: (130-150) This is the Awesome zone. This is when it feels like I am flying and I could go for pretty much the whole day, barring crazy hills or a stiff booty. I can still talk at this stage, but have to catch my breath every once in a while.
Level 3: (150-165) No Woman's Land. At this point I'm riding a little too hard for comfort or sustainability, but we're not in danger yet. I can stay in this area long enough to kick Calli's butt up the golf course road. (I spend more time than I should in this zone when Layne's riding in front of me and I'm trying to keep up.) Silly Wabbit.
Level 4: (170+) This zone has no name, other than the RED ZONE. Not red because of danger or stop or any of the other things that the color often signifies, but because that's the color of the spots I see when I get to this point. A classic symptom of this zone is a slightly metallic taste in my mouth-- I think that might have something to do with parts of my lungs exploding from the exertion. Blood is full of iron and I'm pretty sure that's what I'm tasting.
I know, that sounds terrible, and it is. Nothing that gets you that close to vomitting can be good. However, there is this incredible feeling that comes about a minute after you get out of the Red Zone that makes it all worth it. The beauty is that you are usually descending by that point, so the anaerobic endorphins combined with the exhiliration of the descent-- well, if I wrote what it's most like, your internet filter would probably block this page.
If I would have known what a buzz I could get on a bike, I would have picked it up years ago. . .
Monday, November 24, 2008
All Good Things...
One of the changes I was referring to a couple of days ago happened on Sunday. The Relief Society Presidency I'd been serving in as secretary was released. It needed to happen (one of us is expecting a new baby and it's NOT me!)but it was still bittersweet.
This was one of those presidencies where everything just clicked. I will dearly miss serving with these wonderful women.
Well, two of them, anyway. The 1st counselor was called as the President, and she kept me in as the secretary. I am excited about the new presidency, but I have to admit I'm a little apprehensive as well. It's hard when you've had things so good, to move on to something unknown.
There are reasons for everything-- sometimes they are apparent and sometimes they are not, but I guess that's where faith comes in, huh? Looking back throughout my life, I can see now the purposes for every calling in which I've served-- lessons I've learned, or people I was able to help. My life has always been enriched by the people with whom I've served. I look forward to seeing where this new direction will take me!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
M&M Follow Up
It's Saturday. Mike gave me my M&Ms back. I shared. We ate the whole bag in about 15 minutes. They were delicious.
Thank you, Sir. May I have another?
Thank you, Sir. May I have another?
Friday, November 21, 2008
Where the @#%$! are the M&Ms?
I've finally done it. I've outsmarted myself. And now I'm ticked off.
My friend Jamie gave me a package of mint M&M's the other day for watching her kids. Totally unnecessary, but very sweet.
In the spirit of trying to do better, I thought I'd save them until Saturday-- my "free" day, if you will. I didn't trust myself, however, so I made a plan. I told Michael to hide them from me and not under any circumstances to give them up until Saturday.
He did his job well. Now I'm jonesing for chocolate and I CAN'T find it!!! He just laughs when I tell him to go get me the M&M's RIGHT NOW. He thinks it's a test. He doesn't know he's angering an addict. He's playing with fire.
Seriously, how good a hiding place could a six year old find? Kind of makes me wonder what else he has stashed around here. All I know is that if the kid doesn't give it up here soon, I'm going to take desperate measures and instigate some serious tickle torture.
Don't mess with the Chocolate Beast. . .
My friend Jamie gave me a package of mint M&M's the other day for watching her kids. Totally unnecessary, but very sweet.
In the spirit of trying to do better, I thought I'd save them until Saturday-- my "free" day, if you will. I didn't trust myself, however, so I made a plan. I told Michael to hide them from me and not under any circumstances to give them up until Saturday.
He did his job well. Now I'm jonesing for chocolate and I CAN'T find it!!! He just laughs when I tell him to go get me the M&M's RIGHT NOW. He thinks it's a test. He doesn't know he's angering an addict. He's playing with fire.
Seriously, how good a hiding place could a six year old find? Kind of makes me wonder what else he has stashed around here. All I know is that if the kid doesn't give it up here soon, I'm going to take desperate measures and instigate some serious tickle torture.
Don't mess with the Chocolate Beast. . .
Thursday, November 20, 2008
ER
I'm sitting here watching E.R. and realizing that I've been watching this show for like 14 years now. That's almost half of my life! :-) Granted, there've been years when I watched less-- the whole Kerri Weaver thing kind of turned me off for a while-- but quite honestly, this is still the only show that I will Tivo and watch later.
I have to admit though, I miss the days of Doug Ross and Dr. Green. I remember watching George Clooney and his sexy rebellious doctor ways in my apartment in college. Watching ER was about the only thing that all of my roommates could agree on. Good times.
I keep thinking that it's just not as good any more and I should stop watching it, but I never do. Now it's the last season, and I guess I'll have to. . .
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
At Season's End
I've lived in Utah for most of my life, so you'd think that I'd be used to seasonal change. I guess that I am used to it, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it.
I have an odd relationship with change, truth be told. I don't like change, but sometimes I crave it, kind of like a fish sandwich when I'm pregnant.
I find myself on the brink of a lot of change in my life, and I'm not terribly happy about any of it. I've been in such a good place during this summer and fall-- beautiful weather, lots of time on my bike, my husband and kids are great, and I've had different projects and reasons to spend more time than usual with good friends-- it's been about as perfect as a period of a few months can get. And I feel it ending.
We're living on borrowed time with the beautiful weather-- I know this. And, while I appreciate every perfect day I am given, it almost prolongs the agony of the coming winter. I don't like the cold. I don't like the short days and long, dark nights. Only the beauty of the Holiday Season makes it all bearable.
More than the weather, though, is the fact that things are changing in my life. Nothing major, just a bunch of things all at once. Funny how sometimes change comes in a chain reaction, sparked by some small thing that just keeps spinning.
I know that these changes are bringing new opportunities and challenges, and I guess this is that part that I simultaneously crave and dread. When you've had it so good for a while, it's hard to see how change could possibly make anything better. However, better is always a possibility, and change is ever the probability, so I guess it's up to me to buck up and roll with it.
I guess in the end, it's about hope and faith and ultimately acceptance. It's like risking the fish sandwich-- you might puke it up, but then again, it might just hit the spot!
I have an odd relationship with change, truth be told. I don't like change, but sometimes I crave it, kind of like a fish sandwich when I'm pregnant.
I find myself on the brink of a lot of change in my life, and I'm not terribly happy about any of it. I've been in such a good place during this summer and fall-- beautiful weather, lots of time on my bike, my husband and kids are great, and I've had different projects and reasons to spend more time than usual with good friends-- it's been about as perfect as a period of a few months can get. And I feel it ending.
We're living on borrowed time with the beautiful weather-- I know this. And, while I appreciate every perfect day I am given, it almost prolongs the agony of the coming winter. I don't like the cold. I don't like the short days and long, dark nights. Only the beauty of the Holiday Season makes it all bearable.
More than the weather, though, is the fact that things are changing in my life. Nothing major, just a bunch of things all at once. Funny how sometimes change comes in a chain reaction, sparked by some small thing that just keeps spinning.
I know that these changes are bringing new opportunities and challenges, and I guess this is that part that I simultaneously crave and dread. When you've had it so good for a while, it's hard to see how change could possibly make anything better. However, better is always a possibility, and change is ever the probability, so I guess it's up to me to buck up and roll with it.
I guess in the end, it's about hope and faith and ultimately acceptance. It's like risking the fish sandwich-- you might puke it up, but then again, it might just hit the spot!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Can You Do This?
I've heard that it is physiologically not possible to lick your own elbow. Don't even ask me how Doug discovered this new talent, but here he is, licking his elbow like a Tootsie Pop. Just another in Doug's long line of "talents" :-)
Monday, November 17, 2008
Giving Thanks
I just taught our family home evening lesson on the typical November lesson-- gratitude. We talked about the blessings of living with gratitude and how mad it makes Heavenly Father when we don't. We played Blessing Charades-- Mike was trying to act out how he was thankful for his mother, but it ended up looking like he was thankful for jackhammers.
As I sit here listening to my kids making their family night treat with Nilla wafers and Reddi-whip (they were both reduced fat-- it's not quite as bad as it sounds), I'm thinking that I need to be grateful for things beyond the home, family, and church answers. Here's what I've got (in random order):
I'm thankful for a husband who seems constantly attracted to me, no matter what size I am.
I'm thankful for a playroom with a door where my kids can play to their hearts' content and I rarely have to see the results.
I'm thankful that for tonight, I can sit and be proud that my house is clean and my laundry is done.
I'm thankful for friends who keep me on my toes, who share their lives with me, and who genuinely care about how my day is going.
I'm thankful for parents who taught me the value of work, of loyalty, of laughter, and most of all who taught me that the most important thing you can give a child is the good example of your own life.
I'm thankful for mint M&M's-- and for the fact that they are only around for a couple of months a year, lest I gain back all of the weight it took me so long to lose.
I'm thankful for my daughter's willingness to help me in the kitchen, for little boy hugs and sloppy kisses, and for the beautiful sound of them all snoring in their bedrooms at night.
I'm thankful that when I got married, I got a second set of parents who I love like my own. I'm thankful that I got the big sister I never had in the bargain.
I'm thankful for sisters who are more like friends than family, although being family is pretty dang good too.
Most of all, I'm thankful for a Heavenly Father who knows me well enough to give me a life that's easy enough to be fun and hard enough to make me grow. I'm going to spend more time telling Him thanks.
As I sit here listening to my kids making their family night treat with Nilla wafers and Reddi-whip (they were both reduced fat-- it's not quite as bad as it sounds), I'm thinking that I need to be grateful for things beyond the home, family, and church answers. Here's what I've got (in random order):
I'm thankful for a husband who seems constantly attracted to me, no matter what size I am.
I'm thankful for a playroom with a door where my kids can play to their hearts' content and I rarely have to see the results.
I'm thankful that for tonight, I can sit and be proud that my house is clean and my laundry is done.
I'm thankful for friends who keep me on my toes, who share their lives with me, and who genuinely care about how my day is going.
I'm thankful for parents who taught me the value of work, of loyalty, of laughter, and most of all who taught me that the most important thing you can give a child is the good example of your own life.
I'm thankful for mint M&M's-- and for the fact that they are only around for a couple of months a year, lest I gain back all of the weight it took me so long to lose.
I'm thankful for my daughter's willingness to help me in the kitchen, for little boy hugs and sloppy kisses, and for the beautiful sound of them all snoring in their bedrooms at night.
I'm thankful that when I got married, I got a second set of parents who I love like my own. I'm thankful that I got the big sister I never had in the bargain.
I'm thankful for sisters who are more like friends than family, although being family is pretty dang good too.
Most of all, I'm thankful for a Heavenly Father who knows me well enough to give me a life that's easy enough to be fun and hard enough to make me grow. I'm going to spend more time telling Him thanks.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
A Manageable Beast
Yesterday, Layne, Calli and I rode up the Matterhorn. Okay-- really it was Matterhorn Drive in Alpine, but there is a dang good reason why it's so named.
It was the perfect day for a fall ride, once the temperature topped about 40 degrees or so. It felt so good to be riding outside after too many days on the trainer.
We headed into Alpine, and our recently-turned-mountain-goat friend Calli said, "Let's ride up my parents' road." Up we went.
Layne hasn't really ridden in weeks. I've been putting in 40 minutes a couple of days a week inside (alternated with the self-imposed near-drowning excercise I jokingly call swimming.) Neither of us like to climb much to start.
I did all right. I stuck right by Calli's side and she actually got me to slow down and take the tortoise approach (vs. my typical hare). It was painful and I told Calli she was fired as the navigator for future rides.
Layne didn't fare as well. He swears his bike can't go slower than 10 mph. He made it to the top, but he was 90% ready to puke. I felt so bad for him (on account of the fact that the reason he hasn't had time to ride is that he is so busy working hard so that I can stay home). To my discredit, I was a little bit happy that he'd burned out-- he was a much more manageable beast for the rest of the ride. (Meaning Calli and I could almost keep up with him.)
Nice to see he's human.
It was the perfect day for a fall ride, once the temperature topped about 40 degrees or so. It felt so good to be riding outside after too many days on the trainer.
We headed into Alpine, and our recently-turned-mountain-goat friend Calli said, "Let's ride up my parents' road." Up we went.
Layne hasn't really ridden in weeks. I've been putting in 40 minutes a couple of days a week inside (alternated with the self-imposed near-drowning excercise I jokingly call swimming.) Neither of us like to climb much to start.
I did all right. I stuck right by Calli's side and she actually got me to slow down and take the tortoise approach (vs. my typical hare). It was painful and I told Calli she was fired as the navigator for future rides.
Layne didn't fare as well. He swears his bike can't go slower than 10 mph. He made it to the top, but he was 90% ready to puke. I felt so bad for him (on account of the fact that the reason he hasn't had time to ride is that he is so busy working hard so that I can stay home). To my discredit, I was a little bit happy that he'd burned out-- he was a much more manageable beast for the rest of the ride. (Meaning Calli and I could almost keep up with him.)
Nice to see he's human.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Can't Buy Me Love-- Just Happiness
They say that you can't buy happiness. "They" never found the perfect boots. I've looked for two years for perfect brown boots. I bought two imperfect pair that just didn't work out for me. It wasn't them, it was me. Ok. Maybe it was them.
Today while shopping for others, I found THE ones. They were 50% off. I bought them. I'm happy. 'Nuf said.
Today while shopping for others, I found THE ones. They were 50% off. I bought them. I'm happy. 'Nuf said.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
No Chicken Soup for My Soul
Funny how you associate certain foods with certain events. Some things are cultural-- turkey and pumpkin pie of course remind us of Thanksgiving. Some things are familial-- our family always has a special punch that my dad concocts for Christmas and New Year's. And some things are personal-- and some aren't so good.
Take for instance Ramen noodles. I can't eat them because the first time I ever had to clean-up barf was unfortunately Ramen noodles. Yuck.
Corn pops cereal reminds me of the disasterous Easter when I had my appendix out. (Come to think of it, it was me barfing that time. Maybe my bad food memories have something to do with throwing up...)
Tonight I made homemade chicken egg noodle soup. That used to be one of my favorite meals, but unfortunately, it too now has a bad memory association.
A few months ago, I made this same soup. I was in a hurry and didn't cut up the chicken as small as I should have, especially as Michael has a tendency to wolf down food without chewing it well enough. You can guess what happened. He got a wad of chicken stuck in his throat.
He could breathe, barely, but he was convulsively gagging and slobbering everywhere. We took him to the insta-care and they sent us up to Primary Children's immediately. On the drive up, I was having every horrible thought a mother can have-- what if it slips a little further and he stops breathing? What do I do if my son dies here in the car in my arms? It was a long ride, even though Layne drove at least 90 mph the whole way.
We arrived, and after a rotten too-long wait in the waiting room (seriously, my kid is about dying here!) we were just about ready to take the kid in for endoscopic surgery when he gagged it out. All better. That quick.
Needless to say, I diced the chicken well today. Everyone else gobbled it up-- even Mike, who you'd think had reason to be wary. I ate a little, but I just can't quite get past it yet. Who says the chicken soup makes everything better? Not me. Think I'll stick to chili.
Take for instance Ramen noodles. I can't eat them because the first time I ever had to clean-up barf was unfortunately Ramen noodles. Yuck.
Corn pops cereal reminds me of the disasterous Easter when I had my appendix out. (Come to think of it, it was me barfing that time. Maybe my bad food memories have something to do with throwing up...)
Tonight I made homemade chicken egg noodle soup. That used to be one of my favorite meals, but unfortunately, it too now has a bad memory association.
A few months ago, I made this same soup. I was in a hurry and didn't cut up the chicken as small as I should have, especially as Michael has a tendency to wolf down food without chewing it well enough. You can guess what happened. He got a wad of chicken stuck in his throat.
He could breathe, barely, but he was convulsively gagging and slobbering everywhere. We took him to the insta-care and they sent us up to Primary Children's immediately. On the drive up, I was having every horrible thought a mother can have-- what if it slips a little further and he stops breathing? What do I do if my son dies here in the car in my arms? It was a long ride, even though Layne drove at least 90 mph the whole way.
We arrived, and after a rotten too-long wait in the waiting room (seriously, my kid is about dying here!) we were just about ready to take the kid in for endoscopic surgery when he gagged it out. All better. That quick.
Needless to say, I diced the chicken well today. Everyone else gobbled it up-- even Mike, who you'd think had reason to be wary. I ate a little, but I just can't quite get past it yet. Who says the chicken soup makes everything better? Not me. Think I'll stick to chili.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Flushed Away
I hate public restrooms. I have since I was a little kid. I was proud of myself for the fact that during my entire high school career, I only used the school bathroom twice. I made myself sick at girls' camp because I refused to use the porta-potty for 4 days. I think that some things should be done at home.
As I've gotten older, unfortunately I've had to spend more time in the restroom. Each of my kids has gone through the stage where they have to visit the bathroom of every store, restaurant, and theater we frequent. I've discovered that some are better than others.
For example, I appreciate the concept of toilets that flush themselves. The theory is that no one ever leaves nasties behind for all to see and I don't have to touch a germ-infested handle. The problem is that some of these toilets are too darn aggressive.
Take the toilets at Walmart (and the airport, the theater and about every other public building these days). Those things flush if you even re-adjust yourself on the seat and they are serious about flushing. Water (and whatever else) goes everywhere! I've taken to packing disinfecting wipes in my purse, just in case I'm attacked by one of these water belching behemoths.
We can build 100 story buildings, two story jet planes, supercomputers the size of buttons, and cars that practically drive themselves. Seriously, can't we come up with something better for the one thing that everyone has to do???
Monday, November 10, 2008
Happy Birthday, Emalee!
Today is Emalee's 9th birthday. She's growing up so fast! She asked if she could have a new bed and more grown-up looking room for her present. Where'd that come from? At least I was able to talk her out of the garrish High School Musical stuff.
She had a pretty good birthday weekend, actually. Saturday, we took her and a friend shopping and to a movie. Yesterday, we took her birthday cake to my mom's house. She's definitely my daughter. No fruity decorated cakes for her-- she wanted home-made chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. We call it a Chocolate Coma.
Today, she took donuts to her class. She also found out that she won the reflections contest in the film category. Way to go Em!
I asked her if she wanted to go to dinner somewhere or pick something for me to make. She picked pork roast, mashed potatoes, and homemade rolls. (Yes, Olive Garden would have been easier!) I seriously burned my finger in the process, but it was delicious.
Pretty good weekend, for a pretty wonderful little girl. Happy Birthday, Princess!
Sunday, November 09, 2008
That's Our Boy
Today was the children's program in our church. Our family was asked to sing a kind of obscure song called "Home." It's a cute, simple song and all, but I'm not a fan of singing in front of people.
I don't get nervous to speak or teach in front of large groups-- it actually gives me a rush. Singing is another story-- I get that same fluttery feeling in my stomach that I have the first time I ride a new roller coaster-- you know that point where you're buckled in, moving slowly away from safety and it's too late to hop off? Yeah. I could barf.
My kids said their cute little parts first, then Layne and I went up. We were all dressed in white shirts. We had practiced over and over this week. Depending on how things went, I was even prepared to harmonize. We were going to be the awesomely put-together Garrett family.
We forgot about Doug. Doug means "unpredictable" in some foreign language, I'm sure. When we started singing, he grabbed the microphone and started belting out the first verse right into it. Everyone smiled, and I discreetly reached up and moved the mic down. He turned and glared at me with a most offended look like, "I'm singing here, Mom-- you're throwing off my groove!." Then he grabbed the mic back and put it right in front of his mouth again.
The whole congregation erupted in laughter. As I have a propensity to laugh when I'm nervous already, I broke up and couldn't sing anymore. Layne was laughing too, but still trying to carry the tune. The more I tried, the more I laughed and there was Doug, just standing there looking grumpy and making everyone else laugh even more.
It went like that for 2 more verses. Needless to say, there was no harmonizing, perfect Garrett family number today. Luckily Emalee and Mike did their jobs and sang their little hearts out and redeemed us somewhat. I must have looked fanstastic standing up there with my beet red face and teary eyes, not to mention the fact that I just can't sing. I was never so glad to take my seat.
It could have been worse. The last time Doug was in front of a microphone, he was giving a talk in Primary. He was kind of shy and quiet until the very end. After he said "Amen", he grabbed the mic, did a dance and sang, "Chicka-chicka-wah-wah" to the laughter of the crowd. At least we didn't have a repeat of that number...
Friday, November 07, 2008
All that Jazz...
Layne and I ended up with Jazz tickets for Wednesday night's game against Portland. His dad gave us his tickets, which were much better seats than we ever would get on our own. I had a good time, but it had nothing to do with the fact that the Jazz won.
Going to events with thousands of other people is always a people-watching feast for me. You see, I'm the weirdo that watches all of the strange things that people do in groups, then I laugh at them and then write about it.
There was the girl in front of me who spent a good chunk of the game texting her friend who was also at the game. (Yes, I'm also the person who reads other people's texts if they are right in front of me. I need therapy.) What I'm wondering is why bother? You pay $112 to be at a game, then sit and type on your crackberry all night?
The other thing occupying this girl's time was keeping her boyfriend's hand off her booty. Don't know why he'd think that a ballgame was the right place for that.
Then there are the 3 buddies two rows in front of us who found a way around the two drink limit. They kept standing up and staying up from the start of the 3rd quarter. They were downright belligerent when the folks behind asked them to sit down. Every time the Jazz scored, the three of them would do a group hug. It's like the drunker they got, the more they thought they were part of the team. It was especially funny when Moron #3 dumped his beer all over the lady in front of him during one of the celebratory hugs. (Ok. Probably not so funny for her.)
Behind us was a guy who brought 4 noisy 9-10 year olds to the game. They seemed to have a great time, but the whole time I'm thinking, that's $500 bucks worth of tickets wasted on munchkins there. Some people have so much money it's incomprehensible to me.
The Jazz dancers are another source of entertainment for me, but mostly because I can't understand why grown women dress up in very tight costumes and gyrate to horrible music. Really? High school is OVER-- and it was stupid even then. (Says the debate nerd.)
Some friends of our call people who act strangely "woodwork" as in they just crawled out of it. I have to say, I'm starting to think that most of world (at least in downtown Salt Lake City) is made of wood...
Going to events with thousands of other people is always a people-watching feast for me. You see, I'm the weirdo that watches all of the strange things that people do in groups, then I laugh at them and then write about it.
There was the girl in front of me who spent a good chunk of the game texting her friend who was also at the game. (Yes, I'm also the person who reads other people's texts if they are right in front of me. I need therapy.) What I'm wondering is why bother? You pay $112 to be at a game, then sit and type on your crackberry all night?
The other thing occupying this girl's time was keeping her boyfriend's hand off her booty. Don't know why he'd think that a ballgame was the right place for that.
Then there are the 3 buddies two rows in front of us who found a way around the two drink limit. They kept standing up and staying up from the start of the 3rd quarter. They were downright belligerent when the folks behind asked them to sit down. Every time the Jazz scored, the three of them would do a group hug. It's like the drunker they got, the more they thought they were part of the team. It was especially funny when Moron #3 dumped his beer all over the lady in front of him during one of the celebratory hugs. (Ok. Probably not so funny for her.)
Behind us was a guy who brought 4 noisy 9-10 year olds to the game. They seemed to have a great time, but the whole time I'm thinking, that's $500 bucks worth of tickets wasted on munchkins there. Some people have so much money it's incomprehensible to me.
The Jazz dancers are another source of entertainment for me, but mostly because I can't understand why grown women dress up in very tight costumes and gyrate to horrible music. Really? High school is OVER-- and it was stupid even then. (Says the debate nerd.)
Some friends of our call people who act strangely "woodwork" as in they just crawled out of it. I have to say, I'm starting to think that most of world (at least in downtown Salt Lake City) is made of wood...
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Political Limericks
Okay. So writing the limericks was harder than I expected. They stink, but here they are anyway.
There once was a man named Obama
Who had a penchant for drama.
In every exchange,
His mantra was CHANGE
And saving the country from trauma.
There once was a man named Barack
Who wanted us out of Iraq.
To great disbelief,
He's now Commander-In-Chief
And the Republican Party's in shock.
Sorry about the crappy poems. Blame it on my great-grandma who wrote much bad poetry and somehow figured out how to end every poem with the words "Love One Another." I can't help it.
I did find a cool website for the bad poet in all of us--http://www.rhymezone.com/ which is a rhyming dictionary for those times when you can't find that right sounding word. (I wouldn't have come up with Iraq on my own!)
I'll try to do better tomorrow...
There once was a man named Obama
Who had a penchant for drama.
In every exchange,
His mantra was CHANGE
And saving the country from trauma.
There once was a man named Barack
Who wanted us out of Iraq.
To great disbelief,
He's now Commander-In-Chief
And the Republican Party's in shock.
Sorry about the crappy poems. Blame it on my great-grandma who wrote much bad poetry and somehow figured out how to end every poem with the words "Love One Another." I can't help it.
I did find a cool website for the bad poet in all of us--http://www.rhymezone.com/ which is a rhyming dictionary for those times when you can't find that right sounding word. (I wouldn't have come up with Iraq on my own!)
I'll try to do better tomorrow...
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
The More Things Change...
So, it's 7:30 pm MST on Election night, and it appears that Obama's got it in the bag. I have to admit, I feel a little apprehension about this. Perhaps it stems from my overall dislike of CHANGE.
Depending on my mood, (glass half full and all that), I think that things are either good enough already, OR that change could make things much worse.
I'm not a big believer in change, truth be told. It's rare that "change" per se leads to a permanent good difference in the status quo. Call me pessimistic, but I think that people are basically the same and tend to stay that way. Rare but true change for the better tends to come from dramatic events-- and I just don't see the election of yet another politician as providing that motivation, no matter how many times he says the word "change."
Sorry to get so serious here, when really there are so many funny things that could be said about a President Obama. (Have you thought of how many funny words rhyme with his name? How about llama, comma, and my favorite yo' mama.) I'll work on a good poem for next time-- maybe a nice limerick. "There once was a man named Barack..."
Perhaps I'm being disrespectful-- see what I mean? I got in trouble for writing mean poems about my teachers in junior high too. Seems like I haven't CHANGED much either...
Monday, November 03, 2008
Voting to change voting
I'm tired of election stuff. I'm tired of the ads. I'm tired of the hype on the t.v., radio, internet and in the paper. It's to the point that I just don't care anymore either way, just please let it be done.
It's kind of getting to be like holiday commercialization-- one's not even over before the other one begins. I swear, I'm starting to want to vote just for the guy who's ticked me off the least...
Maybe we should try a new system. Nobody can mention anything about any elections until 1 month before the vote. They can do whatever they want to try and win our votes for 30 days-- that's it.
That's plenty of time for me to weigh the issues and measure-up the candidates, then make up my mind. Think of the money and time that could be saved this way.
I read that this year, the candidates are spending upwards of $10 per vote. Next time, they should just forget it and send me a $10 gift certificate to Chili's. That guy's got my vote for sure.
It's kind of getting to be like holiday commercialization-- one's not even over before the other one begins. I swear, I'm starting to want to vote just for the guy who's ticked me off the least...
Maybe we should try a new system. Nobody can mention anything about any elections until 1 month before the vote. They can do whatever they want to try and win our votes for 30 days-- that's it.
That's plenty of time for me to weigh the issues and measure-up the candidates, then make up my mind. Think of the money and time that could be saved this way.
I read that this year, the candidates are spending upwards of $10 per vote. Next time, they should just forget it and send me a $10 gift certificate to Chili's. That guy's got my vote for sure.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sugar Cookies are Like Babies
I make sugar cookies twice a year-- Valentine's and Halloween. It is just enough time between the two to forget how I swore I'd never make them again. What a mess.
I made the dough last night and thought to myself, "Self, this isn't so bad, why don't we do it more often?" Self forgot that the worst part was to come.
The dough was too sticky, so I had to add in flour this morning before I could roll it out. I had four 4-year olds standing on chairs around my island, poised with cookie cutters and waiting for me to finish rolling. Even though it is Halloween, we had dinosaurs, trucks, stars, and even a few Christmas trees. (That's my boy!)
I baked the first batch for too long. (Can't quite get the hang of this new oven.) I ran out of butter for the frosting and had to call a neighbor. There was orange frosting everywhere-- seriously, I'm sure that I didn't make anywhere near as much as I cleaned up. It must have the same self-replication properties as the toothpaste that gets all over the kids' bathroom. It multiplies itself too.
The kids were actually pretty good-- at least they confined their part of the mess to the kitchen table. They ate a lot of cookies too-- sorry if anyone pukes. Lucky for me, Doug doesn't really care much for cookies.
I'm documenting this experience so that maybe I won't be so dumb come February. It worked with Doug-- I wrote all about labor in my journal and haven't had another baby since. . .
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Humble Pie
I ate a big old slice of humble pie today. No. Actually, I ate the whole pie.
I got my butt kicked by my Padawan Calli today. We decided to take advanage of the gorgeous fall day and ride up the canyon. I've meant to do that all summer long, and always found an excuse not to. I ran out of excuses today, so up we went.
It started well-- I rode almost effortlessly up to the mouth of American Fork Canyon. About half a mile in, though, I knew I was in trouble.
You see, going along with my buffalo theme, buffalo not only don't swim, they don't climb well.
It's not that I'm not strong enough, it's that I'm patience impaired. As in, I have none. It was the Tortoise and the Hare all over again. Calli went slow and steady all the way. I would go in spurts, ride hard until my heart was pounding out of my chest and I was seeing spots. Then I would stop at a pull-out and suck wind for a minute until my heartbeat slowed to a manageable rate.
During these stops, Calli would usually pass me. Sometimes consciously and sometimes not, I would be annoyed that she was in front of me (I am Yoda, after all), and my pace would increase, along with my heart rate, and then the whole cycle would start all over again.
I wanted to quit a couple of times, but my pride, and my friend wouldn't let me. I did make my goal of getting up to the cave. Calli barely looked winded. She wanted to go further. Thank the powers that be that I had to pick Doug up from preschool so I had to decline.
The descent was wild. I left without a windbreaker and got pretty cold, screaming down the canyon at 35 mph. There were a couple of big rocks in the road that made life interesting. (And I thought that my heart rate was high before!) I thought I would at least school Calli on the art of descent and let my gravity advantage carry me down miles ahead of her, but as I pulled out at the forest check station, she flew past me.
So Calli, good job, my Padawan-no-more. You are full-on Jedi Master now. Thanks for the lesson on being patient, and for the lovely pie. Yum yum.
I got my butt kicked by my Padawan Calli today. We decided to take advanage of the gorgeous fall day and ride up the canyon. I've meant to do that all summer long, and always found an excuse not to. I ran out of excuses today, so up we went.
It started well-- I rode almost effortlessly up to the mouth of American Fork Canyon. About half a mile in, though, I knew I was in trouble.
You see, going along with my buffalo theme, buffalo not only don't swim, they don't climb well.
It's not that I'm not strong enough, it's that I'm patience impaired. As in, I have none. It was the Tortoise and the Hare all over again. Calli went slow and steady all the way. I would go in spurts, ride hard until my heart was pounding out of my chest and I was seeing spots. Then I would stop at a pull-out and suck wind for a minute until my heartbeat slowed to a manageable rate.
During these stops, Calli would usually pass me. Sometimes consciously and sometimes not, I would be annoyed that she was in front of me (I am Yoda, after all), and my pace would increase, along with my heart rate, and then the whole cycle would start all over again.
I wanted to quit a couple of times, but my pride, and my friend wouldn't let me. I did make my goal of getting up to the cave. Calli barely looked winded. She wanted to go further. Thank the powers that be that I had to pick Doug up from preschool so I had to decline.
The descent was wild. I left without a windbreaker and got pretty cold, screaming down the canyon at 35 mph. There were a couple of big rocks in the road that made life interesting. (And I thought that my heart rate was high before!) I thought I would at least school Calli on the art of descent and let my gravity advantage carry me down miles ahead of her, but as I pulled out at the forest check station, she flew past me.
So Calli, good job, my Padawan-no-more. You are full-on Jedi Master now. Thanks for the lesson on being patient, and for the lovely pie. Yum yum.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Our New Toy
UPS brought our Christmas present today. After our trip to Yellowstone and comparing our point-and-shoot pictures to my dad's DSLR pictures, we decided to get our own. We got a Nikon D80. I had fun this afternoon, although I realize how very much I have to learn about this new hobby. Here are some of my first attempts:
I love the quick action on this camera-- caught Mikey mid-air.
I only had late afternoon lighting to work with, but it was fun to experiment.
A guy came into Layne's office today and saw a picture of Michael and said, "that boy's going to be a movie star." I think he's pretty handsome myself, even if he is kind of a poser.
With such cute kids, you'd think I'd want another one, huh? :-)
Now, I'm afraid I'm going to turn into one of those moms who sees everything from behind a camera lens. . .
I love the quick action on this camera-- caught Mikey mid-air.
I only had late afternoon lighting to work with, but it was fun to experiment.
A guy came into Layne's office today and saw a picture of Michael and said, "that boy's going to be a movie star." I think he's pretty handsome myself, even if he is kind of a poser.
With such cute kids, you'd think I'd want another one, huh? :-)
Now, I'm afraid I'm going to turn into one of those moms who sees everything from behind a camera lens. . .Tuesday, October 28, 2008
All Grown Up
Today I noticed two things that made me realize that I really am getting old.
The first was that my taste in books has changed. I used to hate Jane Austen-- I thought that she was boring. Recently, I decided to give Emma a second chance, and am finding it very entertaining. Either I was wrong the first time or I now like boring stuff.
The second was visual proof-- I was putting all of my Yellowstone pictures in an album (no 
scrapbooking for me) and I discovered that I am getting laugh lines. How can that be? I still feel 24. (I also decided that I look an awful lot like my mom, but we'll save that topic for another post.)
scrapbooking for me) and I discovered that I am getting laugh lines. How can that be? I still feel 24. (I also decided that I look an awful lot like my mom, but we'll save that topic for another post.) There are a few more signs that I'm not exactly part of the "rising generation" anymore-- I think I've already risen.
*I can't live for days on Doritos and Dr. Pepper anymore.
*I will give up a lot of things for a good night's sleep.
*At least ten times a day, I tell my kids to "turn it down!"
*I don't know how to text on my cell phone, even if my low-tech phone was enabled to do so.
*When they put the age stats on for pro-football, I'm older than all of the players.
*I'll be old enough to be elected President of the United States within the next year. (That is, if I remember anything about US History, as that was a really long time ago.)
I used to think of things in terms of "when I grow up". I guess I'm there.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Irreconcilable Halloween Differences
I hate Halloween. I loathe scary movies. I don't like gore. I'm disgusted by pumpkin guts. Come to think of it, I don't like the color orange all together. Why, you ask? Near as I can figure, it's my Grandma's fault.
My grandma was a very proud woman. She didn't like any event where you invited someone with the expectation of receiving a present. Birthday parties, wedding receptions, baby showers, and, yes, even Halloween all fell into that category.
My mom is not quite as bad as my grandma was, but she kept some of the Halloween-hatred. She loves Christmas though, so this was her compromise:
On Halloween, we'd go the store and each pick out whatever bag of candy we wanted. We'd then go home, turn off all of the lights, hide in the basement, and watch Christmas movies. After that, playing Christmas music was fair game at our house.
My husband is a Halloween lover. He likes carving pumpkins and trick-or-treating. He likes handing out the candy and eating chili and drinking apple cider. He likes finding costumes for the kids. Worst of all, he thinks that Christmas should not be mentioned at all until after Thanksgiving dinner is consumed. (Isn't it ironic that for our first date, Layne took me to a haunted house? He swears I was so scared that I grabbed his hand. Right. Me, make a move on a first date? I say it was him. It's another of our irreconcilable differences.)
I tried to talk the kids into doing Halloween my way this year. Of course Layne wouldn't hear of it. The kids weren't too keen on it either, but I think it's because they are really excited to wear their Star Wars themed costumes. I told them I'd make a compromise and we could stay home, eat Snickers bars, they could dress up, and we could watch Star Wars. The deal breaker was the pumpkins. They still want to carve the dang things.
I don't see how we can ever really work this out-- I don't think I'm ever going to get my way. I can't wait for Friday to be over...
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