"Brace" Yourself for a Heck of a Week!

This has been one heck of a week. Ups and downs. And more downs.

First off, here's Em with her new braces. She was really excited for them-- she thought they'd be cool. As a former brace-face, I tried to warn her that all that tooth-bling is actually quite painful, but, like most things, that's something you find out the hard way, I guess.

She didn't think they were so awesome the next morning.

Here's the kids at Zoo Lights. This was a blast-- Hogle Zoo really does a pretty good light show. We had a lot of fun-- except for the 10 minutes or so when we lost Michael and Payton. Mom's second worst nightmare.
Here's a picture from our Temple Square jaunt. Anyone notice less and less lights there every year?

So for the mom's first worst nightmare. Yesterday was a hectic up-and-down day all by itself, but by the end of the night, we had everything all ready for a fun day today. Layne and I finally got to bed about 11:00 or so and were watching a show about 9/11. As I was watching, I was thinking about all of those poor people and how when they woke up, they had no idea what was in store.

Thinking thoughts like that never goes well for me. Just then, Mike walked into my room and said that phrase we all dread,

"Mom, I barfed."

Man, did he. And he kept puking every 15 minutes or so all night. Essentially, for the second time in a month, Layne and I stayed up the entire night, although I'd take Black Friday a hundred times over a night of puking kid.

Needless to say, our traditional plans of going to see the Mormon Tabernacle Choir performance and to Little America for brunch went out the window. Layne took the two non-sick kids and I stayed home with Michael.

He wasn't feeling so bad at first, so we actually had an enjoyable morning reading Christmas stories.

That is, of course, until he stood up, passed out, then went stiff and started to shake. Emergency room, here we come. (Why is that always on a Sunday?)

He was severely dehydrated and they had to put in an i.v. to get him some fluids and anti-nausea meds. They also did a scan to rule out appendicitis. They gave him a c.d. with the scans of his guts, which he thought was cool.

I don't know what this means for the rest of the week, but scary stuff with your kids always puts things in perspective, you know?

Re-Cycled Poetry

After my very serious poetry from last time, I thought I'd better remind you all of the irreverent cretin that I really am. And, because I'm lazy, and also because my blog is called "Life Cycles", I am going to RE-CYCLE one of my favorite posts from last year.

"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!

Bethlehem

I was sitting this morning before church reading a story about a visit to the Holy Land and I was struck suddenly with a huge feeling of gratitude for the birth of Christ. I wrote this and thought I'd share.

"Bethlehem"

Bethlehem.
The name itself means "house of bread"--
Calling to mind that one scent which smells like fresh baked comfort--
Home.

How different was the smell that greeted the Newborn Babe!
The earthy tang of fresh cut hay in a manger bed
Mixed with the pungent essence of raw animal scent.
(Somehow fitting that the Lord of All should make His first Home among His own creations.)

Bethlehem.
Before that day, mostly unknown--
No "form or comeliness" that it should be desired.
Poor and lowly-- the very name ironic,
Almost.

Until into the world was born God-As-Man--
He who called Himself the
Bread of Life,
And made "House of Bread" a perfect name.

The symbol so strong--
That which reminds us most of all things good and worthy in our own
Earthly home
Is also symbol of Him who is
All good and in all ways worthy--
He who points the way to our
Heavenly Home.

Nourishment.
Sustenance.
Fulfillment.
Comfort.
Peace.
House of Bread,
Bread of Life.
Bethlehem.

Nativity Scenes

I guess that the best indicator that I am having a fun, busy time of life is my lack of time for posting on my blog.

Either that, or I am using all of my computer time to do a little online shopping.

We have been doing some really fun things as a family, though. We've been trying to keep things a little more Christ-centered this year and so far, we've done pretty well.

Last week, we went to the Star Mill to see Santa Clause with my sister Nicole and her family. Here is my beautiful little niece Olivia.
Em with Santa

Doug at Star Mill.

After that, we drove up to Midway for their Nativity Display. This is one of my favorite things to do. It is an inter-denominational display of hundreds of nativity scenes from all over the world. Here is a picture of Mike by one that was carved out of ice.


On Thursday, we went up to a house in Riverton to see more nativities. The Garick family started a project to help people in 3rd world countries by helping them to make nativity scenes out of materials locally available to them, then they import them. They've raised over $69,000 in 3 years to help people in South America, Africa and Asia.

My mom collects nativity scenes-- she has well over 100 if you count the ones on her tree. We always bring one back for her when we travel anywhere, and in the last few years, we've started collecting a few for ourselves as well. We've started our own tradition as a family of getting a new set each year and saving it for Christmas Eve morning when we have a special breakfast, then read Luke 2, then put out our new nativity set.

Layne looked and looked for one from Ghana both times he's gone, but was unable to find one. This family had a bunch of them-- including this ebony one that we bought.

I wanted to display it for the season, so we also bought one from China to put out on Christmas Eve.

I'm amazed at how much my kids have loved seeing all of these nativity scenes. You'd think they'd get tired of it, but they really seem to enjoy it.

It is fascinating to see how the Nativity story is so universal and can translate into any culture. The African ones have hippos and cheetahs instead of sheep. The Chinese ones have dragons. They make them out of stone, wood, clay, beads, and even soda cans. The story is the same-- it crosses boundaries and loses nothing in the translation.

I love Christmas!

Sorry, Mom.

I decided today that I must apologize to my mother.

Sorry, Mom.

Here's why.

I have discovered recently something that I never expected to be true. I get far more nervous for my children than I ever have gotten for myself. Assuming this is true for all mothers, I am only beginning to understand how much stress I caused my own poor mother.

Take today for instance. Our school participates in a story-telling contest. Each kid performs a story in their own class, the class chooses a winner, then the winner competes in the school competition.

Emalee won her class competition last week, which meant that today she had to tell the story in front of the school. I know that she had practiced and was excited, but I was a nervous wreck for her all morning. When she went up on stage, I was praying so hard that she'd do her best and not choke. I think that I held my breath for the whole 4 minutes that she was up there.

She did fantastic.

More and more, I realize how much she is like me. (Except that I'm not always fantastic.) She loves to be in front of people-- she loves to talk and teach. She loves to write and is always entering contests at school She loves hitting in softball and playing pitcher and first base. All of these things are things that I've loved doing too-- and I never once realized that I was killing my mother.

Every time she got up to bat, every time she competes in a writing contest, every time she puts herself out there, she takes few days off of my life. I want so badly for her to succeed-- I get sick at the thought of how crushed she will feel if she fails. Which she will. Because she needs to-- just like we all need to fail in order to appreciate success.

I think of all of the things I did growing up-- playing softball (of course I had to pitch), debate, running for student council, applying for scholarships, taking AP tests-- even crushing on boys that were way out of my league-- and I never once thought of how hard it was for my mom to watch me.

I remember the night I lost a really close election for student council. They announced the winners at a dance that night and I was devastated. I left in tears and drove around for a while before going home. I wanted my mom to be asleep before I got there because I wasn't ready to talk about it.

I was such a dork! Of course she wasn't sleeping-- she was waiting for me. I walked in and she threw her arms around me and I just sobbed.

Now that I'm a mother, I realize how hard that day must have been for her as well.

Luckily for both of us, I haven't always failed so miserably.

I hope that I can be as supportive for my children as my mother was and is for me. She encouraged me in 5 years of piano lessons, even though I am pitifully rhythm disabled. She came to my 8th grade dance concert, in spite of the fact that I am as graceful as a rhinoceros on roller skates. She helped me ask a boy to a dance who was way too cool for me. She supported me on a mission to a strange country -- even though my dad told me she was ready to fly there and get me after she read a few of my more discouraging letters.

I bet that she was praying all the time too. (Ever notice how the commandment to "pray always" definitely got easier when you became a parent?) Actually, I don't bet that she was praying-- I know she was. I have felt those prayers many times in my life, and I know that they have helped and saved me.

Anyway, sorry for the stress, Mom. And thanks.

The Great Purge

Doug finally went back to school today. I don't think that he was too thrilled about it-- he liked staying home with me and wearing his pajamas all day. (Who wouldn't like that life?) It was Polar Express day in kindergarten, so they got to wear pjs to school-- I figured that would help him transition back into normal life.

Being stuck at home for three days was good for my house. As it sometimes does, cleaning out one thing lead to cleaning out another, and before I knew it, I had filled the van with a load of stuff for the D.I., as well as one of our garbage cans with stuff I didn't even think that the D.I. would want.

I finally cleaned out the closet of the nursery-turned-exercise room. (Isn't that an ironic shifting of uses for a room?) I decided that all of the teddy bear stuff was not conducive to sweating- my- guts- out inspiration, so I tore it all off the walls (except for the wallpaper border-- what the heck do they use to make that stuff stick, anyway?)

Next, I attacked the closet. When I moved Doug into Mike's room, I stashed all of the old baby / nursery stuff in there and pretty much haven't opened it since.

I felt a funny, unexpected twinge as I packed it all up. I've given away most of my baby clothes and things to sisters and friends who needed it-- and I've never missed it. Getting rid of the nursery stuff felt different-- kind of final, I guess.

We tried to have a baby a couple of years after we had Doug. Things didn't go well, and going to the doctor to figure out why uncovered some major health problems that I was having which made it impossible for us to have a baby-- at least until I got things under control.

Luckily, with some good medicine and a great doctor, I was able to get better. However, as my illness disappeared, so did the desire to have a baby.

Mostly, that is.

I've said for a couple of years now that we are done. We are. But, as much as your head and even your heart know that is the case, the parts of me that make me a mother are more reluctant to let that part of life go. A friend of mine recently said in her blog that those feelings come from the tendency of the Love inside of us wanting to begat more love.

That may be true, but it was not strong enough to overcome the other urge I had to clean everything out and use the space for something more relevant.

Like storing bike stuff.

And Christmas presents.

I wondered if I'd feel regret for giving the stuff away, but as I drove off from the D.I. today, I just felt lighter. It's as if giving away the baby stuff purged not only the clutter, but also the small piece of me that was still holding onto the "maybes" and "what ifs?"

Wonder what's hiding in my other closets?

Sick Days

We've got the Goombah at our house. (That's what we call the flu, but I don't know why. I think that the name started with Layne's sister, but I can't be sure.)

I knew we were in for a bad one when I woke up yesterday morning and nearly tripped over Doug in the hall. He'd been too dizzy to make it all the way to my room (all 15 feet)so he curled up right there. Mike found him and felt bad for him, so he brought him a blanket, pillow, and a teddy bear and plopped himself right beside his brother. (Yes, he is a very good kid.) I asked why he didn't just come get me, and the sweet little guy just said that he didn't want to wake me.

I must be a monster in the middle of the night.

His fever was 103 and his head hurt. And I knew that any plans I had for the next couple of days were immediately cancelled.

This sucks, of course, because most of our favorite parties and activities of the Christmas season are this week. Not to mention the fact that my poor little boy looks like death warmed over and I think he feels even worse than he looks.

That being said, I have really enjoyed having 2 days where I can't leave my house. I cleaned out the spare bedroom and finally got rid of the rest of the baby clothes that I have been saving for who knows what reason. (Well, being as I can't go to the D.I., they are in bags by the garage door, waiting for my re-emergence into the world.)

I spent yesterday afternoon working on the Christmas present that I have intended to make for my mother-in-law all year, but secretly never thought that I'd get to.

I made roast beef, mashed potatoes and even home-made rolls for dinner last night-- my kids thought someone must have died.

I've even been making a scrapbook for poor Doug who is 5 and I don't know if he's ever seen a printed picture of himself, other than the ones from Kiddie Kandids that I hang on the wall.

My house is tidy, the laundry is finished, I got in two really good workouts. I'm thinking that it really would be kind of nice to actually be a stay-at-home mom, instead of the crazy-runaround-mom that I've turned into.

I may feel differently tomorrow, as I'm starting to get cooped-up naggings gnawing on the back of my brain, and I don't see this situation changing for at least another day or two. However, for right now, I am thankful for a little bit of time to spend in my house taking care of my sweet little boy.

The Black Friday Assault

I did what I swore I'd never do again. I did Black Friday.

My first time was last year. I called it Black and Blue Friday, if that gives you an idea of what kind of experience it was.

I wasn't planning on going-- it never even crossed my mind.

That is, until my sisters and mom all started looking at the ads after Thanksgiving dinner. I started to feel a little twinge inside. I can only describe it as similar to what I used to feel before pitching a fast pitch softball game. And then I knew.

Black Friday shopping is a sport.

I was still resisting, until Layne started to make comments about going with me. That has never happened before, and suddenly, a plan was born.

We shipped some kids of to my parents house and left a few home with the oldest cousins. And then the fun began.

Nicole and I were accompanied this year by both of our husbands-- who got progressively funnier and consequently more embarrassing as the night progressed.

Toys R Us was starting their sale at midnight, so we drove over to Orem. So did the rest of Utah Valley. We got there an hour early and the line was already around the block, so we went for plan B. We drove to WalMart and went to scope out the goods there so we'd be ready for our 5 a.m. assault.

In the toys, we found a Lego astronaut. Jared decided to do a little re-arranging of some of his parts. I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out.

That was about 1:00 am. Old Navy didn't open until 3, so we went back to Nicole's house for an hour's rest. I crashed on the couch, while Layne and Jared appropriately enough watched Beavis and Butthead on t.v. Come 2:15 and we were at it again.

Here's the Old Navy line. The first 30 people in line got Lego Rock Band free with a $25 purchase-- it was nuts. There were a lot of crazy teenagers in that line-- I think they might have been the same annoying crowd that was in the vampire movie with us. (I'm absolutely certain my friends and I were not nearly that stupid when we were that age.)

I didn't have anything on my list at Old Navy, so we just helped Nicole. Jared and Layne got in the checkout line first thing. Nicole and I ran around looking for her items and trying to find them before the boys got to the front of the line. We were a well-oiled shopping machine.

Kohl's was next at 4:00. I had a big list here. However, we got there at 3:20 and I was too chicken to stand in the cold for 45 minutes. We decided to chance it and sit in the car until it was almost time. We played Scrabble--I kicked butt.

Kohl's did not go so well. Our gamble cost me, as there was only one thing on my list still there by the time we got in. We also got stuck in line behind two of the dumbest people I've ever met who were trying to get Kohl's credit cards and bounce checks.

After Kohl's, we went to WalMart-- the holy grail of Black Friday. Thanks to our earlier recon, we knew just where to go. They had pallets of the good deals all wrapped in plastic, guarded by unfortunate employees. We all picked an item to stand by and dug in for 45 minutes. At 4:59 by my watch, a bell rang and all hell broke loose.

I was trying to get $7 snow boots, along with all of these people:

I was lucky, and found a pair of size 13 boots for Doug. Without getting mauled. Nicole was not as lucky. She got the games she wanted, but got shoved into a cart in the process. She might get a purple heart. Our husbands muscled their way in for a few MP3 players. Then we all ran for the check out line which looked like this:

We were about 6th in line, thanks to Nicole's mad dash. However, the first person in line was a moron who was actually price checking every item he had. He took FOREVER! When he finally left, our whole line erupted in applause.

We had a frustrating trip to Target-- by far the longest lines of the morning, and then a successful trip to Game Stop where we ran out of energy. And money.

We'd been up for 24 hours, drank nearly a whole case of diet coke and eaten a bag of jerkey for breakfast. (Pause to vomit.) However, we found nearly everything we were looking for and honestly had a great time. Don't know if I'll ever get Layne to go again, though....

Kim's Rules of Order

I've been in a blog-bog lately. Nothing good to say, so I've kept my keyboard silent.

(Actually, I've been reading. A lot. Like thousands and thousands of pages. I'll post a review soon.)

Anyway, I've been bothered by something recently that I wanted to throw out to the cyber world. It goes like this.

There are unwritten rules of personal and social behavior. I've been noticing too many of them being ignored lately-- so in an attempt to remedy that, I'm WRITING them down.

Thus let it be written, thus let it be done...

1. You should respect and maintain the bubble of personal space for all people around you.

Case in point. My sister and I went to see that vampire movie the other night. (We'll save most of that topic for another post.) There was a 14 year old boy sitting next to my sister. He had come to said vampire movie WITH HIS MOTHER. (We'll also leave that topic for another day.) This kid was obnoxious. He was sprawled all over the place-- feet, legs, hands. He actually PUT UP the arm rest between him and my sister, in order to take more of her space.

Where is the Taser when you need one?

When you are sitting in a seat-- be it a movie theater, stadium, or the back of a car, you should pretend that there are walls in between you and the people next to you and keep all of your crap (arms, legs, feet, coats, stinky breath, etc) confined in that space.

2. You should not stop to chat with people (be they live or on your phone) while you are in a flow of traffic. I'm not just referring to cars-- I'm also talking about the morons who stop their shopping carts right in the middle of the store aisle and just ignore the fact that everyone has to wait or go around them.

3. When sitting in a movie, ballgame, play or restaurant, you should keep your conversation at a decibel that only the people who care have to listen to you talk.

For instance, last night, Layne and I went to a Jazz game. There was a group of people behind us who thought that the whole section would like to hear about their co-worker who got sick and blah, blah, blah. I was really hoping that the Jazz Bear would come and spray them with silly string.

4. Speaking of things that you shouldn't do in movies or theaters, the suggestion to turn off your cell phones during the movie applies to EVERYONE-- not just EVERYONE ELSE. Again with the vampire movie-- the girls in front of us kept taking pictures of the half-naked werewolf boy on the movie screen and texting them to their dumb little friends.

Wish I would have had their cell numbers. I would have gotten up and gone in the hall and texted to them "Turn off your phone, morons." (Did you notice the get up and go in the hall part???)

5. Tied closely to this one, if you bring candy into the theater, open it BEFORE the event starts. The only thing more obnoxious than the guy who rips open his bag of chocolate covered raisins quickly is the guy who is trying to be sneaky about it and takes 15 minutes to get in the bag, thinking that he's being quiet.

Sat by that guy at Wicked. Nearly grabbed his box of Nestle Crunch bites and opened them for him.

6. Flush. Need I say more?

I'm sure there are more, but those are my top pet peeves right now. If you could all please print them and post them on every bathroom stall door that you are unfortunate enough to use, we'd all be better off.

Especially if everyone obeyed #6.

Lucy the Cow

There are some really funny things about being part of a family. Everyone has them-- you know the jokes that only family members get?

I was reminded of one of ours tonight as we drove home from my parents' house. A few early birds are starting to turn on their Christmas lights-- especially the ones in Highland and Alpine who pay people to put them up. (Guess I might turn them on every chance I got too if I paid good money to have them hung!)

Anyway, like the rest of the kids in the country, when the lights start to go on, our kids try to spot them first and they keep score for the entire drive. However, what makes this game different for our family is that when they see the lights, they yell out "Lucy the Cow!"

What does that have to do with Christmas lights (or anything else), you ask?

Years ago, my kids were fascinated by the idea that I could speak Portuguese, as I served a mission there. They would often ask me how to say words or phrases. One of the things they wanted me to translate was "Christmas lights." I told them "luz de Natal", which is roughly pronounced "Looz jee natow". Which sounded to little children like "Lucy the cow".

Thus a family joke was born.

They don't remember any other thing I've tried to teach them in Portuguese, (except for how to say "Peidei" (pay-day'), which means "I farted"-- go figure) but every year, come the first bright lights of Christmas, "Lucy the Cow" comes to stay for the season.

Welcome back, Lucy!

My New Favorite Toy

This is my new favorite toy. Well, actually it is Layne's toy, but it's still my favorite. It's a Kindle and it's the coolest thing ever.

This thing can hold like 1500 books. It weighs much less than a normal book. Some books on it are free and the rest cost like a third of normal. Those are all cool things, but there is one more feature that has earned it's status as New Favorite Toy. (Well, not to mention the fact that the old favorite toy, my iPhone, is on the fritz.) The Kindle reads to me.

Reading a book and feeling guilt because I should be folding the clothes? No problem-- Kindle reads to me WHILE I do my work-- right from the place I was reading.

Gave up reading while driving in college (I know, we're all grateful for that), but now I can just plug it into my car stereo and we all stay safe.

Riding on the trainer has been , well, less sucky for the past couple of days-- I actually finished before wanting to slit my wrists because it was 30 minutes of uninterrupted story.

Layne wants to go to bed and I don't want him to realize that I'm still reading? Plug in the earphones and listen in the dark.

I'm a third of the way through the second Mistborn book, written by Brandon Sanderson. Who happens to have the #1 New York Times best seller right now. And he and his family just moved into our ward. How cool is that?

The only really sad thing about this whole experience is that when Layne bought the Kindle (for him), he offered to buy one for me too at the same time. I thought it looked kind of stupid, so I told him not to bother.

Man, I'm an idiot.

So is he, I guess, because he knew better-- whenever he gets something cool (carbon bike, iPod, iPhone), he automatically orders two. Now he has to order another one. For him.

Thanks, Honey.

Happy Birthday, My Beautiful Daughter

Ten years ago today, I embarked upon the never-ending journey of Motherhood. I had no idea what joy, sorrow, laughter, tears, sunshine, and storms I held in my arms!

There is something incredible about having a daughter. In many ways, looking at Emalee is like looking into some kind of magic mirror which shows me my past, my present and both of our futures all at once.

The Past

In so many ways, Emalee's childhood has been much like mine. Physically, she is one of the tallest in her grade, just like I always was-- and I see her deal with that awkwardness in much the same manner that I did-- although I think that she owns it much better than I did. I'm glad-- it has taken me years and years to realize the advantages in being tall.

She is also very smart-- which also causes her to stand out a little bit. She reads super fast-- also like her mother-- I think that she has my same impatientness (is that a word) to get to the end. I hope that she's not as anxious as I was to just be grown up.

The Present

Sometimes I find myself being harder on her than I am the boys, and I think that it is because she is so much like me-- including some of my weaknesses. When I get after her, I have to stop myself and ask if it is really her that I am upset with, or if it is myself. Sometimes it is not a pretty picture. I think Heavenly Father made things this way to show us that, if we can love our carbon copy children (faults and all), maybe we can love ourselves too-- or at least stop being so hard on ourselves!

The Future

Emalee is so talented, beautiful, responsible, and kind-- I know that she can do anything that she sets her mind to do. It is hard for me to wait to find out what wonderful things she will do. I guess that's part of the parenthood lesson as well-- learning to be patient enough to enjoy the wonderful things that they ARE doing right now...

Happy Birthday, my Beautiful Daughter. Thank you for making me the luckiest mother in the world.

Chocolate Review

For a long time, we all lived quite happily with plain old Hershey's Kisses and M&M's. Sure, there were the peanut variety (of M&M's, that is), but for the most part, that was it.

Then things got creative, and like any artistic endeavors, some of their creations were better than others.

For instance, today I got suckered into buying Irish Creme flavored Hershey's Kisses. Bad call on my part. They are horrible. As are the caramel ones, the orange creme ones, pumpkin spice, vanilla yogurt, and hot cocoa. As I have a general aversion to chocolate paired with any fruit, I'd have to say all of the fruity ones-- strawberry, raspberry and caramel apple are also disgusting.

The ones with almonds are good-- as are the mint ones and the white chocolate hugs and truffles. But all in all, I'll take the plain ones any day over all of these.

I think that M&M's have faired a little better with the experimentation. I love the almond ones. The peanut butter ones are pretty good and the Mint ones are one of the only reasons to look forward to the winter. The dark chocolate ones are also good. But, who in their right mind came up with those terrible peanut butter and jelly ones? THAT was a bad idea.

However, when it comes right down to it, I'd rather have a big ole bowl of regular old peanut M&Ms.

Maybe there is something to the old saying, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

Who knows? Maybe they'll come up with something fantastic-- I'll probably keep trying them just to see. But please take my word and leave those Irish Creme ones on the shelf.

Grab the plain ones instead.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

I never knew that it was going to be so hard to be a mom.

I suppose in a way, that is a tribute to my mother. She made it look easy and fun. She always wanted us around and was a good friend.

My mom raised 5 girls, plus some of our friends. That is amazing to me-- as being the mother to one girl is incredibly challenging for me.

We're dealing with mean girl issues right now. Now, I'll be the first to admit that my little angel may not be 100% innocent in this situation-- but according to her and her friends, they really aren't at fault here. Be that as it may, all of the girls are getting in trouble with the teacher and the administration.

I want to beat this little stinker. At very least, I want to call her mother. What do I do in a situation like this? Where is the manual for raising girls?

I told Emalee that the really sad thing is that it doesn't really get much better. As evidenced by my own little issues last week, even some grown-up girls can be mean.

I told her to do her best for a couple of days to ignore the little s$*#, and if this girl purposely tries to find her and her friends to give them problems, to let me know. I'll turn on the mama-bear mode and kick butt while takin' names.

Or maybe I should just go back to my plan from last week and move some place where no one knows us. Nothing like teaching your kids to run away from their problems...

Wanted: Fashion Advice

So, as part of my going back to work experiment, I decided I had to buy some new clothes. We'll say that it's because all I owned was jeans and sweatshirts, but there might be something to the 8 pounds that have mysteriously stuck themselves to me over the last year or so.

For whatever reason, I have purchased the first pairs of dress pants I've owned in I don't know how long. Actually I do-- my daughter turns 10 next week, so I'd say it's been roughly a decade.

Anyhoo, I found these pants at Kohls that I love because they look good, they're comfortable, AND they come in TALLS. I bought black, brown and navy.

Herein lies my problem: I don't know what shoes to wear with the navy ones, as I definitely do not own a pair of navy shoes. (Once upon a time I did, but they disappeared sometime when I was on my mission. Go figure.)

I am such a fashion moron-- can anyone give me a clue here?

Spiral Staircases

I don't know why, but it feels like this year has gone by really quickly-- it seems like I was just in fall-- enjoying the leaves and dreading the approaching winter. And suddenly, I find myself here again.

I think that it has to do with my blog.

When you document so many of the events and thoughts of your life, they become more a part of you than just fleeting moments. The act of recording them in a way that you want others to read about them makes them even more real somehow.

Take for instance my bike ride yesterday afternoon. I knew that I should be doing other things, but I couldn't resist the beautiful fall weather, so I ditched my life and rode hard. As I was riding, I was mentally composing my blog, when I realized that I'd said this all before.

That lead me to wonder why I haven't been blogging much lately-- and, in spite of my excuse of being too busy, it really comes down to the fact that I just don't have anything new to say.

I sat down and reviewed through my blog posts over the last year, and my impression is that I feel like I've lived the same year twice.

I guess that in naming my blog "Life Cycles", I was unwittingly defining the tendency of life to go round and round. (I actually chose the name just to show that I would like to spend more of my life riding my bike!)

There is something discouraging about the idea of living in "Groundhog Day". (Everyone remember that movie?) However, without getting too deep (it's only Tuesday, for Pete's Sake!) I have to hope that instead of my life being like a bicycle crank-- continuously circling around the same point, that it is more three dimensional than that. Maybe it's more like a spiral staircase, where even though I am still going around in circles, I am getting higher with each revolution.

Granted, some years show more upward progress than others, but even a little bit of up is better than nothing, right?

Another Reason It Might Be Better To Be A Man

I'm in a crazy place right now-- hence the lack of good new blog posts. Between my normal mom stuff (basketball, swimming, piano, PTA, homework, house-- you know the drill), Relief Society, and trying to fill in at work (hooray-- our new staff starts tomorrow!), I've been running.

I've been doing all right with it, I thought, except that I find myself getting a little emotional and ragged come evening.

Take last night.

I found out that one of the sisters in our ward is upset with me for something that she thinks that I did. It's not really a big deal-- in trying to help someone else, I unknowingly stepped on her toes.

When I got home from a meeting and started talking to Layne, I fell apart. I told him that I wanted to move somewhere that no one knew me. He said no-- he's never moving. I told him that I was just going to quit going to church. I wanted to be THAT family. You know the one that is active then suddenly stops coming to church and no one ever really knows why?

He laughed at that too. I told him my sad tale and he just looked at me like,

"You've got to be kidding me."

He absolutely could not understand why I would give a rat's arse whether someone I don't know very well likes me or not-- let alone why it CRUSHED my feelings.

It was so easy in my tired state to revert to my junior high self and let all of that self-pity, jealously, resentment and illogical assumptions take over. All the while, Layne is sitting there, trying to be supportive, but really just thinking,

"Who is this bag-of-crazy and what has she done with my wife?"

I went to sleep and woke up feeling much better and laughed at myself for being such a nut-job. It got me thinking, though, how much easier it would be to be a man and have my major problem in life be that I was horny all of the time.

If women are from Venus and all of that, I'm thinking that Mars might be an easier place to live.

They sure as heck wouldn't need as much Kleenex there...

Crazy Hair Day

Today was one of my kids' favorite days of school-- Crazy Hair Day (CHD). It's part of ribbon week and what it has to do with saying no to drugs, I'll never know. But, the kids love it, so I guess it's all good. (I don't know how the teachers feel-- probably not so much love from them...)

Doug has waited for years to get to go to school on CHD. He made sure that I had plenty of gel and red spray.

Here's our creation. We called him FireHead.
Here's Em. Cheerleader gone wrong.

Mike liked FireHead so much that he wanted to do it too. I couldn't get a very good picture of him, though because we had one of those right-before-school-starts drama moments where someone dropped something on his toe, he started bawling like a baby, I told him to suck it up and go to school, that made him madder-- you all know the drill.

I need to go wash it out. I am dreading that because just washing the extra off my hands this morning turned the sink pink.

I'm about to get a pink tub.

Don't know if I like pink that much...

What a Relief!

For the first time in many moons, I put my bike on the trainer. (a.k.a. torture device.) I got things all set up and then spent a very long 30 minutes sweating and pedaling my guts out.

(Why is it that 30 minutes on my bike outside seems like nothing, but inside it's an eternity?)

Anyway, as I came to the end of my 10 miles, I noticed myself counting along with the mile counter.

9.75

9.8

9.95

9.96

9.97

9.9

And then, finally, RELIEF. I was so happy to see that 10.0 flash on the screen.

It got me thinking about other things that give me such great feelings of relief. Here's a random list:

*Making it to the bathroom-- just in time.
*When you think that you've overslept, panic, then see that you still have a couple of hours left to sleep.
*Taking off uncomfortable shoes or tight jeans after long day.
*Realizing that you still have money left in your account after all of the bills are paid.
*Thinking that you've run out of Diet Coke and then finding one in the back of the fridge.
*When the car inspection guy comes out and tells you that you don't need to have anything done to pass inspection.
*Same with the dentist.
*When the laundry is washed, folded and put away before the boys can get it and have a clothes-war.
*Getting in bed after a hectic day and realizing that everything got done.
*When your medicine kicks in to take the edge off of a killer migraine.
*When you find your child in the next aisle at Walmart-- just as you were ready to call for a Code Adam.

Anyone else want to add to my list? Or are you just RELIEVED that my post is over? :-)

I'm Number One

Those in my fantasy football league probably think that this post is about the fact that my fantasy team has scored 149 points today-- more than anyone else AND I still have two good players left to go tomorrow night. (We won't talk about the fact that before today, I have lost ALL 5 games.)

No, this post is not about that.

In fact, when I say that I'm Number One, I don't mean it as "I'm the best."

I mean it in the Star Trek definition.

As in Captain Picard saying to Commander Ryker, "You have the bridge, Number One."

You see, I am the first counselor in the Relief Society Presidency. It is quite honestly, more responsibility than I am comfortable with. However, as our Fearless Chief has been out of town since Wednesday (and won't be back for 3 more days), I have decided that being Number One is definitely better than being Commander-In-Chief.

What I've learned about myself during the last week is that I am a better right-hand-woman than I am the leader.

I don't like it that as things have gone wrong this week, people keep calling and asking me what to do. Don't they remember that I am the bike-riding goof-off whose job in this presidency is to keep everyone from taking things too seriously?

I am all too happy to be a buck-passer. Please go away, Buck-- whatever the heck you are-- I'm not the place where you should stop. I shouldn't be in charge.

Of anything.

Ever.

I'm happy to be a worker bee. I'm happy to provide "counsel" as a good counselor should do.

Just stop asking me to make decisions.

I can barely pick a breakfast cereal in the morning.

How many days until Wednesday?

Doug 1, Mom 0

Monday morning, I got on my bike for the first time in 10 days. It was a bit chilly, but otherwise a beautiful day.

Joy and I decided to ride down toward Lakeside in Orem. We were having a great ride, and I had just finished telling Joy how much I really like my new cycling knee warmers-- keeps your legs warm without having to wear tights.

We were riding on the trail that goes along the Lindon marina on Utah lake. Up ahead, I could see a scruffy looking guy with two dogs. Off leashes.

That always spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

The dogs were about 50 yards up ahead of him. There was no way off of the trail and he made no motion to call the dogs in. I knew it was a bad plan to get between him and the dogs, but there was no other option. I slowed down a little, so that if the dog jumped out in front of me, I wouldn't hit him at 20 mph.

That's when the stupid dog charged me and actually BIT MY LEG.

Worse than that, he ripped a hole in my awesome knee warmers!!!

I finally got my foot unclipped and gave the dog a taste of carbon sole, steel cleated cycling shoe right in the kisser.

Then I gave the scruffy guy a HUGE piece of my mind. (As if I had any to spare.)

That's just background to the funny part of my story.

I was mad all day long. While Doug played Wii, I was sitting on the couch, talking on the phone to two of my friends, telling them about the "Dumb A$$ with the dogs".

After I hung up the second time, Doug looked at me, turned off the Wii, sat down in front of me and very seriously said,

"Mom, you shouldn't call that guy a dumb a$$ you know."

Somewhat shocked, I said, "Doug, you're right. I'm sorry. I didn't know that you even knew that it was a bad word."

To which he replied,

"I'm five. I'm not stupid."

Ouch.

My reply:

"You're right again. I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were listening." (In my defense, usually he's so engrossed in his Wii games that Santa Clause could come into the room and he'd only notice enough to ask him to move so that he could see the t.v.)

Doug's answer to that,

"What do you think these things on the side of my head are, Mom? I hear everything."

When am I going to learn? And what is my life going to be like when this kid is a teen-ager?

One thing's certain-- life's never boring when Doug's around!

New York Debrief

I meant to blog from New York.

I really did.

Just like I meant to finish a spreadsheet for work.

Instead, I played the whole time. It was great!

What I loved about New York was that there was not only high quality freak watching to be done, but also some really nice people too.

Here's me on Times Square. This was just outside of our hotel-- the Marriott Marquis.

Here was the first show that we saw-- I was not as excited to see this one, but I ended up loving it. Great acting and cool effects.

Here's inside the Lion King theater-- I think I could go to jail for taking this picture. We were on the 13th row-- it was fantastic! I loved all of the puppets in this one, but the acting wasn't as good as Mary Poppins.

Here's my dessert from the first night. We ate at The View on Times Square-- a rotating restaurant on the 48th floor of the Marriott. A little disconcerting to be in constant motion, but very cool. This is passionfruit truffle with pomegranate ice cream. Almost too pretty to eat!

Here's my #1 most-important-place-to-visit-- The American Girl Doll Store. It was awesome! The only bummer was that Em wasn't there to see it with me.

This pic is inside the bathroom stall at the AG store. This is a doll holder so that your doll doesn't fall in the john. This place has a doll-only hair salon, a restaurant with doll chairs next to yours, and a photo studio for you and your doll to get a pic done. Too cool.
Here's me at Rockefeller Center. This was one of my favorite places-- maybe because I've seen it on the Today show so much. Lots of energy here-- I'd love to see it at Christmas. (And yes, you'll notice that my hair is curly in every picture. New York is WAY too humid for me to even consider straight.)

This is the construction site at Ground Zero. If ever a place had ghosts, I think this is it. So much sadness here-- it weighs you down.

Here's from the bottom of the Empire State Building.
And here's from the top. Well, not really. It's $20 just to go to the 86th floor, but you can pay $15 more to go to the 102nd. No way. Rip off.

This is a cool thing I saw. An old lady couldn't get her shoe tied, so one of the workers offered to tie it for her. The pic is off center because I was trying to be sneaky and get it without being obvious. I'm sneaky that way.

This is Layne's parents on Statue of Liberty Island. Aren't they cute? It was so fun to spend 5 days with them and see how great they treat each other after all these years. Thanks so much for a fun trip!

Here's me with the grand ole' lady. Finally, another woman who's taller than me! :-)

Here's Layne and me on the ferry to Ellis Island-- Manhattan skyline in the background. What the heck do all of those people do in those huge buildings?

Here's a funny thing I saw in Battery Park. How many New Yorkers does it take to cut off a tree branch? Apparently 10.

Here's the Late Show studio. Who knows what's going on inside there?

I want to buy this building.

And live in it.
Here's the inside of the Wicked theater. That show itself is worth the trip to New York. If you ever have a chance to see it, do. I hate the Wizard of Oz, but I see it in a whole different light now.
One of the funny freak things. Some guy was driving around in a high heel shoe. Speaking of high heels, I actually watched some lady get her high heel stuck in the storm grate while crossing the street and her boyfriend had to rescue her. Was it rude to laugh and point?
Here's Layne at the Intrepid Museum. This is the place I would love to have taken my boys. Totally cool and interactive. Someday...

We never made it uptown-- I still can't say I've seen Central Park or the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Guess I'll have to go back. Wonder if I can find the awesome cheesecake place again?

From Somewhere Over Michigan

So I am sitting on an airplane, blogging from my iPhone. Here are my brief observations-- as typing is a little difficult right now.

1. Wi-fi on airplanes rules. Big time.
2. Flying coach does not rule. Never fly first class unless you plan on doing only that for the rest of your life.
3. People who recline their seats SUCK! I cannot say that strongly enough. I hope the insensitive shrew in front of me is enjoying the healthy dose of knee-in-the-back that I'm serving up.
4. I really have to pee, but there is 1 hour and 20 minutes left of the flight. I choose to spend them in discomfort rather than using the bathroom on the plane. I hate those things.
5. Should it make me nervous that the guy sitting next to me and the guy in front of Layne are passing notes in Arabic?
6. Reclining Shrew just went into the bathroom to bathe herself in cheap perfume. Thanks for the migraine, Shrew Lady. Seriously Lady-- you REEK!!!
7. Do I really have to keep this seatbelt on? It's putting pressure on a very distressed bladder right now.

In case you're wondering, I am on my way to New York City. I've never been there before-- should be interesting:-)

More later...

45 minutes later.

Math equation:
Full bladder + bumpy flight = ?

Conference Weekend in Pictures

We've had a great, very family-oriented weekend.

This is Friday night. We decided to go to Lagoon's Frightmares. I don't think that we've ever taken the boys to Lagoon-- we had a blast!

Emalee finally discovered the joy of roller-coasters and other thrill rides this trip. She LOVED Tidal Wave. We went on it probably 10 times in a row. (Side note about Tidal Wave, anyone else remember when you'd ride the Tidal Wave and one side would yell "Tastes Great!" and the other would yell "Less Filling!? Good Times.)

This is about the only ride that Doug would ride. 15 times in one night.

Here's the kids in their "King Benjamin" tent to listen to conference. Quite honestly, between the tent and the activity books (well, and the skittles, Mike & Ikes, and chocolate), so far, the kids have quietly watched all 6 hours of conference. No matter what happens during the last session, I'm calling it a success.

Saturday afternoon, we went for a ride around the loop to Cascade Springs, then up to Midway and back down Provo Canyon. I don't have good words to describe how beautiful the canyon is this year. My pics aren't as good as I would like because it was very overcast, but here they are:

I've felt so blessed during this weekend. So many of the talks have been about obtaining personal revelation. One thing said really struck me-- we receive revelation because we believe in a living Christ, we belong to a living church with a living prophet on the earth. It is amazing and humbling to think-- especially when you consider the majestic works of God-- that He cares enough to hear and answer our individual prayers.

Like I said-- we are so blessed!