Sprung!

I'm bored.

None of the things that usually entertain me are appealing. At all.

I don't want to read or surf the 'net. I am obviously ignoring my blog. I have no desire to cook or bake. I don't remember the last time that I got my camera out of its bag.

I actually spent two hours on the couch watching Jackass with my husband and boys (and yes, the fact that I let my boys watch Jackass is probably the most telling symptom of all). I did put my foot down when they showed someone squeezing the most disgusting blackhead I've ever seen. I literally started gagging, which Mike found hilarious.

What the heck is the matter with me?

Is this what they call spring fever? If so, consider me

SPRUNG...

(Can you take Advil for this fever???)

They say that gratitude is the best antidote to whining. I'm willing to try anything. Here goes my random list of things for which I'm grateful for on this blustery day in March.

• My cute little hyacinths and tulips peaking their way up through the cold ground. They can't wait for spring either.
• My nice, warm, comfy bed. I've spent 6 rough nights in hotel beds in the last month or so and I have to say, there's no place like your own bed.
• Old Navy. They had an awesome sale last week and Em and I got lots of bright colored clothes. They look kind of funny hanging next to my black, navy and brown blah winter wardrobe. Kohl's should be mentioned here for the great white jacket that I picked up for only $18.00!
• Eve. I ended up teaching last Sunday (always the peril of being the 1st counselor in the Relief Society) and had a chance to study in depth about the Mother of All Living. I learned SO much and got a hugely different perspective on her, the Garden of Eden, and the Fall. More than that, I remembered just how much I love to study and teach the gospel.
• My bike trainer. Yes, it's true. My time spent on this torturous beast during the winter allowed me to, well, kick my husband's trash on our first ride together this season. (Sorry, Honey.) It will only be this way for the next couple of weeks until he gets his form back, but I'll take it while I can get it.

There.

I do feel better. You can try my prescription too, if you'd like.

I'll just bill Obama-Care.

You're welcome. :-)

Holes In The Knees

It's been a while. I know.

I'd like to say I have a good excuse, but I really don't. The best thing I can come up with is that my brain has holes in the knees of its pants.

Yep. Holes.

I will explain my weirdness.

In folding my laundry the other day, I realized that every pair of my boys' jeans-- the same jeans that were perfect and new in August-- now has at least one hole in the knees.

Herein lies my dilemma. I like my kids to look nice. I buy them relatively nice clothes. I don't let them wear stained t-shirts or even t-shirts with cartoon characters on the front to school. (Well, except for Doug's Mario shirt that I let him wear as a bribe on the days he balks at going.)

And now, they are the kids with holes in their knees. (Consolation: they aren't the only ones.)

My options are to buy new pants (which they will wear for about a month before their uniform changes from jeans and hoodies to basketball shorts and t-shirts), or to just pretend I can't see the holes until it shorts-time.

I'm leaning toward the latter.

This whole attitude is what I mean by holes in my brain-pants.

I'm just done. With. Everything.

I have reached that point where something has to give soon because I'm half-passed thread-bare. There has been too much work, church stuff, sickness, messes, school crap and cold. I have reached the limit.

My friends think I've become a hermit. My kids are tip-toeing around me. My husband sent me flowers in an attempt to cheer me up.

I'm ready for a good spring clean and fixer-up. I'm not talking about patching the holes.

I'm talking about throwing out the brain-pants for a brand new pair of Capris. Or maybe some Nike cycling shorts.

Bring on the flippin' sun already!!!

Cheerleaders vs. Maleficent

Four days is a lot of days to spend at Disneyland.

I love Disneyland. I love taking my kids there and just living in an unreal world for however long our funds hold out.

But we've never done four days before.

Two was not enough. Three seemed just right. But, four let us experience D-land in a way that we never had before.

On day 4, we spent most of the day doing things that we never thought we had time for before. We saw the Muppet 3-D show. (Better than I expected.) We toured the sour-dough and tortilla factories. We tried to see Aladdin, but the National Cheerleader Association had ALL of the tickets reserved for the whole day.

Side note about that: I hate cheerleaders. Especially cutsie pre-teen ones with crazy hair dos and glittery make-up on their faces. I 'SPECIALLY loathe the ones who were staying in our hotel and who were playing tag up and down the halls until two in the morning. My hugest bad feelings, however are reserved for their mothers who were walking around in jackets with their names on them and "cheer mom" written beneath them-- packing cans of hair spray and tubes of lip gloss and trying to live vicariously through their shallow little daughters.

Did I mention that they took up all of the Aladdin tickets? (I know-- tell you how I really feel?) My 10 and 12 year old nephews did NOT share my sentiments. If they thought that Disneyland was the happiest place on earth before, then Disneyland flooded with teenie-bopper cheerleaders had transformed into absolute heaven.

But I digress.

One of the attractions in California Adventure is an area where you can learn to draw cartoons, talk to an animated figure from Finding Nemo, and take a test to see what Disney character is most like you.

Both of my boys were Tarzan and Emalee was Jane. Pretty apt, I'd say. Layne was Jiminy Cricket from Pinnochio. I thought that was pretty funny until I got mine.

Any guesses?

Anyone?

I was thinking something along the lines of Mulan-- strong but beautiful, or maybe Elasti-girl from the Incredibles.

It told me that I am most like:

Maleficent.

Are. You. Freakin'. Kidding. Me???

It said that I can put people to sleep. (Spinning wheel, anyone?) It said that I eat people for lunch. It said that I like things my own way.

On second thought. Does Maleficent eat cheerleaders???

Middle Child Mania

My last post was number 300.

300.

Can you believe I've had that much to say?

Don't answer. I know. You probably can't believe it's only been 300.

But I digress. There are more important things to write today.

For instance, I could write about our FANTASTIC trip to Disneyland, but that might just make you jealous. I could write about the hilarious experience of traveling with 8 children. (I may still do that.) I could write about all of the nice email messages and comments I received from my last post-- I'll have you know that I've done very well with those resolutions, by the way.

Instead I'm going to write a belated birthday message about my wonderful son Michael.

Michael is the perfect middle child. He rarely makes waves. He's always content. He doesn't ask for much-- and because of that, sometimes he doesn't get the attention he deserves.

We decided to make him a rock star for his birthday-- so along with my sister's family of 7, we all flew off to Disneyland to celebrate.

Before we get to his cute pictures, let me tell you just a little bit about how incredible this kid is.

At least 3 or 4 times a week, he runs up after breakfast to make my bed because he knows how much I like having a nicely made bed. He has a fan-club of little girls who love him not just because he's killer-cute, but because he has the ability to make even little people feel important. He had a goal to read the Book of Mormon before he got baptized and he finished a week before his birthday.

This story explains Michael more than any, though.

Mike and Doug were trying to earn as much money as possible to take to Disneyland. They cleaned and worked. Mike even wiggled and wiggled an only slightly-loose tooth the night before we left and pulled it out just in time to get a buck from the tooth fairy.

He kept that dollar in his pocket at the airport. He kept thinking about buying something from the vending machines, but decided to save it for the big D-land.

That is, until the walk over.

On the corner across from the entrance to the park was a homeless lady with two dogs that every one of us ignored or didn't even notice.

Except for Mike.

Mike walked over to her, pulled out the dollar he earned literally with his own blood, and gave it to the poor soul. He petted her dogs and smiled and told her he hoped that she had a good night.

She joined the Michael fan club too.

It's getting bigger all of the time.

Happy Birthday, Buddy! You are my shining example and I can't believe that something so good could come from me. I love you!!!

Mike and crew outside of their favorite roller coaster.

My kids at Mike's birthday party.

Mike and his $15 birthday cupcake. The smile on his face was priceless.

Disneyland is a great place to have a birthday-- every where we went, the Disney employees told him Happy Birthday. One of them even got Mickey Mouse on the phone to sing Happy Birthday to him!

The Universe knew that everyone needs one perfect birthday. Mike got picked to dance in the Main Street parade and also to be a Padawan at Jedi Training. The look on his face says it all...

Man, I love that kid!