Dishes and Laundry

A Place For Everything...

2009-05-20T06:00:00.000-07:00

What does Cam like to do on Sunday afternoons?

Organize his dresser.

I'm more of a lay-around-the-house-and-catch-up-on-television kind of gal, but who am I to say what makes the best use of time?

We have the pants and shorts...

and the shirts, stacked by brand.

The crowning top drawer glory: underwear and socks. And scout badges that wait to be stuck on a shirt or something.

That boy loves to organize!

I'm thinking of renting him out by the hour.

Double Digits

2009-05-18T15:21:00.000-07:00

Aaron turned 10 yesterday.

He had more hair on the day he was born than he has right now. I still have that hair - along with Cam's curls and a pile of teeth - stuffed down in the bottom of my underwear drawer.

At 10, he loves Nerf guns, the trampoline, truckin' with Dad, computer games like Oblivion and Call of Duty, Drake and Josh, silly jokes and books like Ripley's Believe It or Not and Diary of a Wimpy Kid. He also loves the watch he got for his birthday. It has a stopwatch feature and we now know that the opening song in Sacrament Meeting lasted 2 minutes and 36 seconds and the closing song was well over 4 minutes. Teeth brushing rounded out at a minute and thirty seconds.

He does not like waking up, showering, brushing teeth (mornings are a blast!), homework or bleu cheese. I think he'll come around on the bleu cheese.

Is it just me, or does he look like he's wearing some big fancy headdress?

He's my errand buddy, my tennis ball picker-upper, my drink getter, my foot rubber, my food taster, and the one who always remembers to say prayers - even when I'm tired and forgetful.

He's generous with compliments, enjoys using a broad vocabulary (be still, my heart!), and still lets me give him a hug and a kiss in front of the school.

Love you, Aaron! Happy Birthday!!!

There's a New Kid in Town

2009-04-19T14:07:00.000-07:00

I know, I know...I said we wouldn't get another dog just to keep Troy company while he's out on the road.

I lied.

Only it's not really a lie if it happens to be the truth at that moment. My intention was to not get another dog (at that moment). We did not need another dog (at that moment). We were NOT getting another dog (at that moment).

The moment passed.

Meet Pippen! He's 5 years old, a Scottish Terrier/Miniature Schnauzer mix. At least that's what they tell us.

He's had a busy past few weeks. A little over a month ago, he was probably with a family and was well taken care of. We think this because he is well mannered, house-trained, knows commands, he's been neutered, etc. He's also had his voice box removed, and while we don't particularly like that it happened, it's evidence that he had people in his life.

But then he got lost. Or "let go" when his people couldn't afford him. We'll never know.

He was found wandering around and taken to a shelter where he hung out for about five days. He was adopted by a young couple and stayed with them for three weeks before they realized that they just weren't able to spend any time with him. They both worked, the man was going back to school at nights, and the woman really wasn't a dog person. Pippen was practically living in a laundry closet. And they were feeding him really cheap dog food.

Thank goodness we came along!

It's been a love at first sight kind of a thing.

Pippen's been a bit of a fixer-upper in his first two weeks with us. He had some itchy skin because of the poor quality dog food he'd been eating, but that's cleared up nicely. His initial vet check showed a few problem teeth that needed to be removed. Eating and chewing on rawhide is much nicer without the pain!

And since he was knocked out for the dentistry, I had them remove a mole from his back!. He's been sporting a little Frankenstein look.

Moles can go bad, the vet told me, become cancerous and such. Truth is, I had that mole removed because it freaked people out. It was right on his back and when people petted him they would hit that mole and pull their hand back and go "Eewwwwww! Is that a tick?"

After having that happen half a dozen times, and yes, I was a little freaked out myself, that mole was coming OFF!

He's a mellow little guy, content to just sit...

...or lie on the floor. This particular way of relaxing is a Scottie trait. And we laugh every time he does it.

All in all, Pippen's transition into our family has been perfect.

Pippen is home.

Yeah...Well...You're Short

2009-04-15T18:39:00.000-07:00

I called over a kindergartner to read to me today. I patted the seat next to me so he'd sit down. He scrunched up his face and sighed.

"When I'm close to you it makes me very nervous."

"What? Why do I make you nervous?"

"Because you are so old."

Maybe I smell like his great-grandma?

Love my job.

Taking Precautions

2009-04-13T07:39:00.000-07:00

...and not taking any chances.

Happy Monday morning!

At least (so far) no dogs have gotten in the way.

Just In Time For Spring

2009-04-05T15:42:00.000-07:00

For most of last week there just didn't seem to be anything to write about. Nothing that seemed to be terribly interesting or even worth the time to write about it. Ho-hum life.

Then it changed. The house was no longer quiet, there were people coming and going, carting things out, hauling things in. Oliver not at all happy about strange men being in the house all day. It was the opposite of ho-hum.

The opposite of ho-hum cost us $4000.

'Twas the furnace.

Back on Monday, I woke up to a chillier than normal house. I like it cooler at night, but this was a bit much. If the weather had been properly warming up, I might not have noticed, but the thermostat showed under 60 degrees.

I threw some clothes in the dryer for the boys ("Hot clothes! Getcher hot clothes right here!), 'cause that would be the only way I could coax them out of bed to get ready for school. I called Troy and he led me through the steps of checking the pilot light and so forth. At first it wouldn't re-light...and then all of a sudden it did. Then the blower wouldn't come on...and then it did.

The house heated up nicely and to me that was the last I was going to think about it.

It would be like our microwave. 6 months ago if you simply shut the door and pushed start it would make a clicking sound and never heat your food. But if you SLAMMED the door, it worked fine. Then one day, and ever since, no slamming needed. Food's hot, everyone's happy, no money spent.

That's what this whole furnace thing was. A little blip that fixed itself.

Then it happened a few more times and Troy called the Action guys that were out here sometime and left a magnet on the side of the water heater. How handy.

They were scheduled to come out on Friday morning between 9 and 11, and they showed up right at 10. Oliver was not happy. They removed some panels and did what they do - I won't even try to explain it. Bottom line - the circuit panel needed to be replaced, and some other big important part of the furnace was cracking and rusting and heading south fast. Carbon-monoxide City, to be exact.

Repairing the (16 year)old furnace would cost about as much as a brand new one (after the rebates and tax refunds), so before I knew it I was applying for their 36 month payment plan. I signed on the dotted line and then they left.

They were the diagnostic and repair team. The out-with-the-old and in-with-the-new guys showed up about 45 minutes later. Again, Oliver wasn't happy.

They stayed for almost 6 hours. It wasn't until the 5th hour that Oliver accepted them and wouldn't bark at them whenever they came up the stairs or in from the garage.

I reallyreallyreallyreally dislike having workmen in my house. I don't know what to do with myself. If I stay near, do they think I don't trust them? If I go too far away, I hear "Ma'am? Ma'am?" as they try to find me.

If I go to the bathroom, will they hear me? Will they judge me for watching my shows that have been recording for the week, thinking that all I ever do is watch tv all day? How about if I sit at the computer?

Are they checking out my storage shelves and the remarkable number of boxes of tampons that I have stacked up? What did they think when they caught me standing in front of the open freezer door, eating cookie dough? When I eat lunch, do I need to offer them some?

Oh, and while I was holding it all day, they were not. One guy spent a good 20 minutes in the bathroom and I was dying. All I could imagine was that he was on the other side of the door, wrangling whatever wouldn't flush, without the aid of a plunger. And he's too embarrassed to ask for one and he has no idea that the bamboo skewers under the sink are what we use for that sort of thing.

Yes, bamboo skewers. Plungers gross me out. Skewers are long, they can rearrange or chop, whatever the need may be, there's no splashing, and they are easily disposable. Take my word for it, skewers are the way to go.

So this was my entire day. I couldn't go anywhere, couldn't do what I wanted to do, men were in the house and I had just bought a $4000 furnace - I was as big a mess as Oliver. By the time Troy showed up, I was exhausted and had emotionally eaten my way through the kitchen. I made Troy check out the bathroom before I went in.

But I guess when all is said and done (and three years of payments have passed), it's a good thing, right? New furnace, 95% efficient, lifetime warranty and lower heating costs, and that little thing about not dying in the night from carbon monoxide poisoning.

Yes, we are blessed.

But man, that was a long day.

Ho-hum really isn't all that bad.

Yeah...He's That Kid

2009-03-31T17:20:00.000-07:00

It's the karmic circle of parenthood.

1. See others of this kind and mock them.

2. Believe that my own would never dress this way.

3. Realization and the holding of the tongue.

4. Acceptance.

5. See other people mock my son.

Cold Cereal and How My Family is Abusing It

2009-03-25T13:05:00.000-07:00

We keep the cereal down on the bottom shelf of the closet pantry in the kitchen. We used to keep it in the two little half-cabinets above the stove until the boys were old enough to make their own bowls, and then I moved it down to where they could reach it. If they were going to eat 8 bowls a day, by golly, they could fix it themselves.

The shelf itself is pretty big, holding a 4 slice (2 that work) toaster, the canisters of regular and quick oats, a giant bag of add-water pancake mix, and a stack of plastic cereal bowls along with all the boxes of cereal.

That's right. ALL the boxes of cereal.

A dozen to be exact. All open. Some were duplicates.

When I investigated further, I found that seven of the boxes held maybe a quarter cup of cereal.

Not enough to be considered empty and thrown away, but not enough to fill a bowl either. And instead of pouring out the last few squares of Golden Grahams and then topping off the bowl from a new box, they (the kids) have been pushing the almost-but-not-quite-empty boxes to the back of the shelf and just bringing up another box from food storage.

Hence the 12 boxes of open cereal.

Do they not want to be accused of being the one who ate the last of something?

"Hey it's not all gone...saved those last 10 flakes for you!"

Do they believe the cereal "dust" is toxic?

Okay, I don't like the dust either, but now is not the time to be wasting food.

So I'm melting marshmallows and margarine and whipping up that classic after-school snack:
Rice Krispie/Cheerios/Golden Grahams/Frosted Mini Wheats/Crispix/Frosted Flakes/Cocoa Krispie/Cinnamon Life Treats.

A few extra marshmallows ought to hide all the dust.

Spring Haircut

2009-03-23T18:57:00.000-07:00

Ollie got groomed today, and with tip and nail grinding (as opposed to just nail cutting - hey, nothing's too good for our pooch), it came to $50. Spiffy scarf and the expression of anal glands is included, and that right there makes it all worth it.

Aren't we brilliant to get a dog the EXACT same color as our carpet, so if he ever were to shed it wouldn't be very noticeable? But Schnauzers don't shed, which is one of the top reasons we got him.

That is one handsome dog, even if they did cut off a little too much of his beard.

Ollie's been having some adventures lately. He's become a part-time truck dog, traveling around with Troy in the semi. He likes sticking his head out the window, curling up on the bed for long naps, and watching the world from the front seat. Troy likes the company.

But we miss him when he's gone. We've thought about getting a second dog, one that Troy could take along all the time, but then those $50 grooming fees remind us that it's probably not the best time to own two dogs. Besides, Oliver would be sad that he wasn't the truck dog anymore.
And who would want to make this little guy sad?

Proof of Life

2009-03-22T17:47:00.001-07:00

"Are you okay?" asked a concerned friend in an email over the weekend.

"Are you dead?" whispered Aaron's teacher from last year. She might have yelled it, but we were waiting for the temple dedication to start.

"Update your blog! I'm tired of looking at naked Cameron carving a pumpkin," demanded (nicely) another.

I guess a 4 month hiatus is long enough.

Honestly, I've been touched and even a little bit flattered that so many people care. And I'm sorry to have left you hanging back there after Halloween. I'm not really sure what happened. I think I just started feeling a little redundant.

I'd written about Thanksgiving and Christmas the year before and I didn't really have anything new to write. Life carried on. We had New Year's, Cam's 12th birthday, Valentine's, a new calling (Primary Secretary), and another shot in the foot. What more was there to say?

Not that I didn't feel guilty. Besides the occasional urging of family and friends, I knew that blogging was a record of my/our life and that it needed to continue. It was a good thing to journal our ups and downs, put up a picture or two, and connect with people.

But then a week turned into a month and that turned into two, three, and four months, and now I've got people wondering if we're even alive! Sorry about that.

We are alive. We are well. We are happy.

We are kicking back on a Sunday night.

Aaron on computer. And thank goodness for that. He's been practicing the recorder all weekend, and I am frankly all Hot Cross Bunned out. If you know what I mean.

Troy, fresh from a shower after 4 1/2 days on the road. He's relaxing with a game that has him battling Nazi Zombies. Not how I would relax, but he's pretty into it. See how he attempted a smile, yet he couldn't even take his eyes off the screen?

And here's Cam, organizing his dresser. That's just what he likes to do on a Sunday evening. Is the top of your dresser that neat? Mine isn't either. How about that haircut, folks? Scroll back down to see what it looked like in November.

Ollie, sitting in his favorite spot where he can look out the dirty window and let us know if anyone is passing by. Oliver is getting his hair cut tomorrow.

And here's my foot. Got an injection last week, and I'd like to say that it looks worse than it is, but that would be a lie. In an otherwise very blessed, busy and happy life, my foot continues to torment me. Not much has changed.

In other words, life is good.

It even felt good to blog again.

Halloween and Stuff

2008-11-05T12:58:00.000-08:00

Pumpkin carving

(in the nude)

It's a family tradition

At least for Cam it is. I can't get that kid to wear clothes around the house for anything. Perhaps I need to turn down the thermostat?

Halloween was a little different this year: Cam officially declared his independence and went out with just his friends. I can't even tell you what they were...three guys in black robes, maybe?

Aaron (after practically fasting and praying over it) decided to go with Troy on the road. He was immensely happy, so I think he chose well. Cam generously agreed to share his loot.

But that left me, alone with Oliver, to do the whole door thing. And Oliver doesn't do well with the whole door thing. It bothers him terribly that others would dare cross our doorstep, let alone ring the doorbell. The barking can be ear piercing, but I couldn't put him away in a bedroom - he'd still hear it and that would make him anxious.

Oliver + anxiety = liquified bowels.

Yes, there is a story behind that equation. No, I won't share it. I'm still in therapy.

So it was a 2 valium night for my Ollie.

He slept soundly in his crate (in the front room with me), then he'd wake and try his best to bark whenever the doorbell sounded.

I ate candy, surfed the internet, answered the door, and occasionally called Cam to make sure he was okay. Aaron checked in every once in a while from Arizona, reporting that they were 15 miles from the border and hauling a 53 foot trailer of jalapenos. I joked that they better not crash with trucks hauling tomatoes and onions -- that would be SALSA!

Gone, gone, gone are my days of dressing my kids in adorable costumes and delighting with them in the magic of a holiday.

In reality, it's been gradual. I mean, we've lived out the same days, weeks and months that everyone else has, but it feels like I blinked and suddenly my boys are grown into pre-teen man creatures. And they don't need me so much. Certainly not to trick or treat with, or even to do the carving on the pumpkin.

Great job, by the way, my little naked carving boy

Yup, I've seen my future.

Me and my stoned dog.

Pass the candy.

Out They Go

2008-10-22T10:00:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, Aaron was complaining of another sore throat. He was getting them a lot, never tested positive for strep, and with Tylenol he'd be just fine. Sinus drainage? Random topic to whine about?

Nope.

Tonsilliths. Or tonsil stones, if you prefer.

As I peered down his throat one day, I noticed a little white thing sticking out of his right tonsil. Well, that just wouldn't do, so I wrestled him to the ground, promised him money if he'd just let me "look", and then pushed on his tonsil with a Q-tip.

The white thing popped out of his tonsil and stuck to the back of his throat. Aaron was gagging as I tried to pick it up with the Q-tip and pull it out of his mouth. Success!

It was about the size of a small pea, grayish white, firm like a cottage cheese curd, and stinky. Really, really stinky.

So gross.

Soooooo cool!

I thought is was just a big ball of hardened pus, and surely there would be more...but Aaron wouldn't let me "look" again. Surprisingly, his sore throat was completely gone.

A few weeks later it happened again, and once more, it was awesomely cool. And gross and stinky.

Time to see the doctor - this had to be one horrible infection.

Saw the regular doc who sent us off to an ENT, who diagnosed Cryptic Chronic Tonsillitis - the tonsils have swiss-cheese like holes that fill up with food, bacteria, mucous, and saliva, and it gets all compacted and hard (now it's a tonsillith) and bothersome or even painful when it starts to come out. It's actually very common, and many people express their tonsils once a week or more. Sometimes the tonsillith will work its way out on its own or can be coughed out. It can cause bad breath.

Since Aaron was pretty young to be getting these, and they were causing frequent sore throats, we decided to get his tonsils out. Better at 9 than when he's older.

This is a small tonsillith - very similar to what Aaron's looked like.

And this is a really big one. You could pull that one out with tweezers.

So yesterday morning, even though I didn't have my driver's license, insurance cards or money that I could access, we headed to the hospital to have those pesky tonsils removed. Funny...my kid going in for surgery was not the most stressful part of my week.

Geez, we had to get there early: 6:30 in the morning

Glad it's not me!

Cameron being uncharacteristically helpful in getting Aaron into his gown.

Cheery yellow socks

Confident before surgery

Well, maybe just a little anxious

Then 20 minutes of surgery, an hour of recovery and he's dressed and almost ready to go home.

First, we must contemplate the popsicle.

And somehow get it to the mouth.

Home...and this is pretty much the rest of the day.

Sleep tight, Aaron.

I promise I won't let your pain meds run out before I give you the next dose.

There's No Witty Title Because I'm Still In Shock

2008-10-21T10:26:00.001-07:00

Just when I think there's nothing going on in my life that's blog-worthy...life sort of rears up and smacks me upside the head. Hard.

When we walked out of church last Sunday, this is what greeted us:

And this:

Before the broken glass littered the inside of my car, my purse was cleverly (so not!) concealed inside a jacket, tucked halfway under the seat, and a magazine and a sunshade were tossed on top. You know, so it just looks like I have a messy car, and not a purse full of things that ought to be stolen.

I wasn't fooling anyone, especially not the low-life, scumbags who decided to pull the ol' Smash-n-Grab on me. In the church parking lot, no less!

Church gets out at 2. Troy, unable/unwilling to use the facilities at the church, drove home during the last meeting and returned at about 1:50. He went inside and was talking with our home teacher - in the foyer. If he'd turned around, he might have seen them. At 2:05 ('cause we aren't ones to linger longer) we walked out and saw the glass, the open glove box and center console, the missing purse and (yes, it gets even worse) the missing house keys!!!!!

Seriously, did they follow him into the parking lot and simply watch him go inside?

More people came out and stood with me, sharing in my shock and anger. Police were called. A neighbor drove Troy home so he could get our cell phones. Troy announced that he was going to Walmart to see if they were shopping for electronics and drove off while I waited for the police - he wasn't thinking clearly, just that HE MUST STOP THEM!!!!!!!

A kind ward member gently pointed out that Troy ought to call the credit card company and stop them from that end instead of tackling random people at Walmart. I called him, he went home and called our bank. I only had one major credit card and one debit card (same bank), so that went pretty smoothly.

They'd already been to Walmart and charged $115.30 and they were trying to buy gas at a Holiday when the card got cancelled. They were fast, organized, and they knew right where to go: Walmart - with those lovely self-check registers.

The police came and took our statements and a list of things that were in the purse. He went off to do his thing and then we went back to our now unsecured home to take care of things on our end. We're still not done.

House re-keyed on a Sunday: $180
New mailbox lock/driving to post office to get new key: $15
New driver's license: $18 - haven't done this yet
Ordering new cards from credit union
File fraud report with credit union
Cancel Kohls card
Call insurance company and order new cards
Call auto glass people and wait an entire day for them to fix my window. But let's hear it for full glass coverage!
Call Equifax and other credit reporting agencies to put a fraud alert on my life. Side note: the guy at Equifax sounded exactly like Balki from Beverly Hills Cop. It made me giggle.

It's just all so irritating and time consuming. It takes forever to call some of these places because everything is in English and Spanish, and I had to navigate through the phone system, hoping that I could somehow just push #7 and speak to a real person. Waiting for the glass people was the biggest pain. Even though we specifically asked and begged them to put us at the top of the list so I could get new bankcards and a new license, when the guy finally showed up, he told me that he saved me for last because he lives close by. Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh!!!

The inconveniences are overwhelming. Aaron was getting his tonsils out today and the hospital needed me to bring my driver's license, insurance cards, and some money. Sorry...I don't HAVE any of those things anymore. The post office wants ID before they will give me a new mail key. The bank wants ID before I withdraw anything. Albertson's wants ID before they give me a new Fresh Values card, Sam's Club, the pharmacy, everyone. Oh yeah...it's all about the picture ID, unless you steal someone's credit card -- then by all means, shop away...no one's gonna stop you.

Okay, just a few more rants, on a minor scale.

It was a good purse. Not too big, not too small, with all the features I want and none that I don't need. It was brown with some leopard fabric accents, little end pockets for a cell phone, secret zippered pouch for tampons, perfect length straps...I really liked this purse. Gone. Perfect wallet...gone.

Last Christmas I splurged and bought myself some lovely lip glosses from Bath and Body Works. Chocolate Mint and Peppermint Shimmer - both with peppermint oil to plump the lips and taste yummy. Gone.

Gift cards and refund cards to Kohls, Barnes and Noble, Seagull Book and Tape, Subway and Cafe Rio. Gone.

Cute little mint tins, one with mints, the other with Tylenol and Excedrin. Mirror, gum, my favorite pen, temple recommend...gone.

I have ipod shame now - because it wasn't stolen. It was practically like they put it back. What...my little shuffle isn't good enough for you?

But, there is a bright side. Really.

I did not have my social security card in my purse. Or my check book. Not that I could write a check without my ID. I only had one credit card with me. We found out fast and were able to stop them before any more damage was done. Our cell phones weren't in the car. Troy was home when this all happened. There wasn't any cash in my purse. Good friends and neighbors stood with us, called to check on us, and generally made us feel loved.

Troy has every right to say I told you so - he has asked me again and again not to leave my purse in the car. I would just brush it off and explain that I "hid" my purse. He hasn't said a word about it. Not one. Good guy, that Troy.

That very day, I taught a lesson in Primary about Mormon witnessing the downfall of the Nephites. It went on and on about how the cities were full of robbers and people with no conscience. Nothing was safe. If it could be stolen, it was.

I think I prefer my object lessons a little less real.

A Few Weeks Ago On TV

2008-09-19T12:00:00.000-07:00

Like pretty much everyone else, we couldn't get enough of the Olympics. Even the computer games were turned off as we watched together - perfect family entertainment.

Favorite things...

anything with Michael Phelps
women's beach volleyball
anything with Michael Phelp's mother
synchronized diving
this picture of Michael Phelps

teaching Aaron to "do the Michael Phelps"

gymnastics
oh, just everything
but mainly Michael Phelps

Swim lessons for everyone!

Back In School

2008-09-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

I started back to school at the end of July, but the boys didn't start until the middle of August. I made them practice reciting the fun things that we did over the summer, just in case a teacher asked them what they did. I didn't want them saying "Played computer games."

Not that they didn't spend quite a few hours on the computer, I just wanted their teachers to know that I tried to make the most of the six weeks that we had.

First Day of School 2008

You are correct, the fourth grader is now officially taller than the sixth grader.

So it's back to early mornings, cold or hot?, deodorant?, backpacks, did you brush your teeth?and hurryhurryhurry. Four weeks into the school year now and things are going great. Both kids have teachers that they really like, not a huge amount of homework, and going to bed earlier hasn't even been a problem. Whew!

This is Cam's last year in elementary. How crazy is that?

Almost as crazy as these two...

First Day of School 2004

Love you guys...have a great school year!

20 Years/20 Reasons

2008-09-16T06:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Anniversary to US!

Twenty years ago...

and just a few weeks ago, on a hike,
during a
very happy weekend getaway...

So in honor of twenty years, here's a list of 20 random reasons why I love Troy:

You compliment me - all the time.
You are a wonderful father.
You gladly drive me around when I need to go on errands - just because you know I don't really like to drive.
You can open tight jars, reach high things, lift heavy things, and kill scary things.
You like going to plays with me, including musicals.
You never hesitate to help out around the house.
You understand my occasional need for some chocolate, some ice cream, and Cafe Rio.
You rub my feet every single time you sit down on the couch next to me. Sometimes during church, too.
You love my cooking.
You are honest, kind, hardworking, and dependable.
You support me in whatever I'm doing, whether it's cycling, tennis, eating like a vegetarian, whatever. And sometimes you even join me.
You understand that sometimes I need to get away with my girlfriends.
You tell me I'm a good Mom, even when I make mistakes.
You hold and honor your priesthood and have a strong testimony.
When I get a wild hair about tearing up the lawn and putting in gardens...you build them for me.
When I mentioned that I was driving some ladies to a tennis match you ran out and gassed up my car, washed it and vacuumed it.
You love my family.
When our family has had something to grieve about, we have done it together.
You work very hard for our family, sacrificing a lot so that I can be home right now to be with the boys. And play lots of tennis and go to lunch with my girlfriends.
You put up with me. Yes, I put up with you too, but let's face it, you have the harder task.

Golly, I love you, Troy. Can't imagine my life without you, and I feel very lucky that you are mine. Happy Anniversary!

ULCER Ride

2008-09-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

The first weekend in August, Troy and I did a 33 mile bike ride called The Ulcer. There were several distances to choose from, 33 being the shortest, and we chose that one for Troy's first ride. It was completely flat and started early enough in the morning that it didn't get too hot.

There was a lot of fanfare and music, sending everyone off. The riders going for the 111 mile distance would be circling Utah Lake, so the theme song was Ring of Fire. Ring for the route and fire for the temperature which would end up over 100 degrees. I think we were smart to stick with the 33 miles, don't you?

The Smart Ones

It was a great ride, made extra fun because I was doing it with Troy. He had a great time and even got a little competitive at the end. Not with me -- with (surely) the oldest person on the ride.

We had about 3 miles left and had been riding right alongside each other the entire time. I pointed ahead to this little old man (white hair, skinny, scrawny legs, seriously old) and joked that we should "try to take him".

Troy took me seriously and shot ahead and caught up to the old guy and passed him. The second Troy got ahead, the man perked up and started pedaling like mad to regain his lead. And that's how the last three miles went - these two unlikely athletes, vying for position. They went back and forth a few times, and in the end, Troy crossed the finish line first. Victory for my man!

The old guy was a good sport and congratulated Troy with a "Good ride."

It was a good ride, Troy. Way to go, I'm proud of you, and I love that you are riding with me!

A Green and Crunchy Doggy Toy

2008-09-14T15:50:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the cabbage. Several people have asked me in the last week or so to (please) put something else up so they wouldn't have to look at that dang cabbage anymore.

So how about this?

Dog...and cabbage.

That's my last cabbage and Oliver took it right out of the garden, rolled it and chased it all over the yard and then proceeded to eat it.

Making plans on how to Oliver-proof the garden for next year. Sigh. My kids don't eat vegetables this well.

I'm writing some posts to quickly cover the last month or so. We've been fine, happy, and just taking a wee break from writing about it all. Hoping to change that.

But I promise, no more cabbage pictures until next year.

Cabbage!

2008-07-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

So here's the cabbage that's ready to harvest. Some of the outer leaves are a little bug-eaten, but overall the head looks beautiful.

Except here. Did something get inside? When I pulled a leaf aside, an evil little earwig skittered away.

Lifting another leaf, I found this bad boy. What the heck! Leave my garden alone!!!!

So Cam and Ollie came out to help. Ollie thinks we're harvesting a ball for him to play with.

It rolls away, and it looks exactly like any head of cabbage that I've ever bought. Whew!

And yes, I do see that other snail up in the right hand corner.

I took it inside and called my Mom.

"I harvested a cabbage!" I shrieked, with the same enthusiasm that is usually reserved for the announcement of engagements and pregnancies. "A cabbage!"

Mom was impressed.

I washed my cabbage in the sink, pulling back the first leaf to reveal a tiny earwig. But only one. I pulled a few more leaves and everything looked fine.

I'll admit, that while I was thrilled with my cabbage, I was also a little freaked out at the thought of eating it. I set it on the counter to see if any more bugs would make their way out.

I waited. Nothing.

Here goes. Oh, golly, I'm hoping that a million earwigs don't spill out onto my counter. If they do, I might torch my whole garden.

It's perfect!

Both halves are perfect!!!

Pardon me while I revel in my little agricultural miracle.

Now what? Thinkthinkthink.

I grabbed a few green onions from the garden...

Chop, mix, toast (almonds), crush and stir.

Voila!

Cabbage and Ramen Salad!

Very tasty.

So, How Does My Garden Grow?

2008-07-28T06:20:00.000-07:00

Pretty well, I think. Some things are doing great, some, not so great. I'm taking notes and already thinking about what I want to do next year.

This is what's going on right now:

Peppers...green, red, and jalapenos. For the longest time they weren't doing much of anything - looked kind of peaked, but in the last week or so they've started taking off and they have quite a few little blossoms.

This is my teeny, tiny jalapeno. I call him Jose. I think he will be delicious.

We have a lovely patch of carrots... none are ready yet.

Lots of green onions and I think one of these squares is actually red onions.

This is cauliflower. Huge and leafy, and I need to keep spraying it with a pesticide. I couldn't see any little heads of cauliflower, and I was about to pull the whole thing out, but then this morning I saw the tiniest little things that just might turn into cauliflower. We'll see.

These two squares have been planted 4 times with green beans. Nine plants (in each one foot square) have sprouted, grown to 2-3 inches, and then disappeared. Four times. I am ticked. Even the little fence hasn't protected my beans.

This is the bean plant pilferer.

Shhhhhh....Ollie doesn't know about this little square of beans.

Cilantro. Bolted. I suppose I could dry it and shake out the coriander seeds, but I'm not going to. I wanted cilantro.

My cabbage! I've had to spray it to keep the bugs off, but now it's ready to harvest (how cool does that word sound?)

Here's another. I think it's the cutest thing ever.

Tomatoes. So far, a disappointment. The plants seem spindly and they are starting to yellow from the base up. Not much fruit - something called Blossom Drop. I'm still hoping that they (4 plants) can turn around, 'cause really, what's a garden without a good tomato crop?

This is the cherry tomato plant. I've eaten 8 tiny tomatoes off of it. They were so delicious...I want more!

The spinach did pretty well - been adding it to salads.

Red and green leaf lettuce - it's done really well. There was some Romaine that was good, but then it bolted. Snails have also hung out in the green lettuce. Overall, a success.

I think the red leaf lettuce is very pretty.

Oooooo...fresh basil!

Zucchini!! I've harvested a few so far. There is a yellow crookneck squash planted nearby, but so far, no fruit.

There were also three broccoli plants. Ollie pulled out the best one and carried it through the yard, whipping it from side to side, while I chased him. The other two produced about a four inch crown of broccoli each. While I waited to show Troy my broccoli success. they sprouted into a large bouquet of yellow flowers. And they were buggy. I don't think I'll do broccoli again.

And that's my garden...so far.

Any luck in your gardens?

Starting a Garden

2008-07-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

Last spring, I got the itch to plant a garden. We hadn't had a garden in several years - mainly due to our crappy soil, lack of planning, fear of hard work, and the attitude that we would only fail once again.

Then I found this:

I felt hopeful that I could have a successful garden. So Troy, ever wanting to make me happy, built me some gardens.

We (I totally mean Troy) pulled out the old sandbox, laid the weed fabric down, and set the 6 inch deep gardens on top.

These two are 4x4 foot square. After they turned out so well, he went on to build 2 3x3 foot gardens, and a 2x8 foot garden.

Here, he's getting ready to make the soil mix. He's got peat moss,

different kinds of compost,

and vermiculite.

Gotta mix it up.

Mix some more.

Still mixing.

Seriously, you wanna put the camera down and help?

Fine...I'll help mix.

Then we (he) filled the beds.

And filled...And filled...

Until they were full.

And then, because I had put the camera down to help, I didn't pick it back up again to take pictures of the finished gardens. Whoops.

So just imagine...all the soil is nice and smooth and then Troy adds the grids that mark the whole thing off in 1 foot sections. Each section will be planted with 1-16 plants, depending on the size that it needs to grow. A cabbage, for example, takes up one whole square. Green onions, 16 per square.

The other boxes (3x3 and the 2x8) will hold the squash and tomatoes.

Thanks, Troy!!! The gardens turned out beautifully.

This is how they look now.

And the best part? No weeds. Not a single one. Next year, all I have to do is add a scoop of compost to each square and mix it up by hand, and it'll be ready to plant. The hard work is OVER.

Pretty cool, huh?

Bird in the House

2008-07-24T06:00:00.000-07:00

So. Huge storm the other day, and when the boys and I opened the front door to watch it, a BIRD FLEW IN MY HOUSE!!!!!!

It was a really bad storm, and I guess the bird was taking refuge on our porch. Perhaps going inside to dry off seemed like a good idea to the bird - but not to me.

I was trying to snap pictures and stay calm, but I was freaking out on the inside. Seriously, how do you get a wild bird out of your house??

After about 5 minutes (and getting tired of the flash going off in its face), the bird flew into our sliding glass door and fell to the floor. We opened the door, it stood up, and flew back out.

Whew!

Family in our ward found a skunk in their kitchen once. It had come in through a doggy door and was eating cat food.

Have you ever had real-live nature things in your house?

11 year old Scout Camp

2008-07-23T07:00:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Cam headed off for his very first overnight scout camp. Troy was able to go along (did a little dutch oven cookin') and they had a wonderful time.

There was bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. Cam fried up 3 lbs. (!) for 8 people.

Little bit of hiking.

And some geocaching, which was Cam's favorite part.

Knife sharpening,

Whittling,

At least I think this is whittling...

Campfires and midnight flashlight games, sleeping in a tent with your buddy, knives, knives, knives, and getting dirty, makes for one happy boy.

It's crazy to think that in about 5 months he'll be holding the Priesthood, passing the sacrament, going to Young Men's, etc. Love you, Cam!

Summertime

2008-07-22T06:17:00.000-07:00

Hello?

Is anybody still there?

I read somewhere that you're never supposed to apologize for taking a break from blogging. So without any apology, but at least an excuse, I've simply been having a great summer. I've managed to check a few blogs here and there, leave a comment or two, and do all my online banking, but for the most part, I've avoided sitting at my kitchen table and tapping on these keys.

It's just that people have started to ask where I've been.

I have been:

To Bear Lake for a family reunion. This was the first time we've ever done anything like this. Five whole days with everyone, camping or condo-ing, lakeside and firepit - it was wonderful. So wonderful and busy, in fact, that I didn't take any pictures other than this one. Troy is becoming quite the dutch oven chef!

To Scout Camp. Two days up in the mountains with 8 and 9 year old boys. It was actually a lot more more fun than it sounds.

To the pool. Cam and Aaron are pretty self sufficient when it comes to swimming now, so I can be super lazy and relax in the shade. Occasionally they come back for a sunscreen reapply, a drink, or a snack, but for the most part, they are just gone. They are off with friends (with a stern warning about never playing the hold your breath game), jumping from diving boards, having water fights, and getting very tan and blond.

Watching my garden grow. And even eating from it every once in a while. Troy put in square_foot_gardens for me this year, and we've been having a moderate amount of success. No weeds, a few bugs, and Oliver, who has been determined to snatch plants from the soil and race all over the yard playing with his leafy and apparently delicious new chew toy. More on the garden later.

Reading. At Bear Lake and the pool, I've been (finally) reading A Thousand Splendid Suns and The Kite Runner. Both were "couldn't put 'em down" and "can't stop talking about them" kinds of novels. I've also read a few tabloids. Don't judge me...it's summertime and I'm by the pool. Of course, I wrap it in an Ensign.

Biking. Continues to be something I really really enjoy, especially now that Troy can go with me. We went every day at Bear Lake and try to go for at least 15 miles when he's home.

Playing tennis. I'm actually fitting in everything else around the tennis. If I'm not practicing with the league, I'm there for lessons with the boys and just playing for fun. I'm better than I was last year, I have lots of friends playing with me, and I LOVE IT!!! The courts close at 10pm, but I think I could hit balls all night long. If I'm not at home, there's like a 90% chance that I'm at the tennis courts.

Keeping cool. Swamp cooler's been working splendidly, and after a buying a whole new compressor for my car, the air conditioner in there has been doing fine as well.

Aaaaaahhhhh, summertime.

What have you been doing?

Junior Manscaping

2008-06-27T07:20:00.000-07:00

Troy started it. He bravely let the world see that big, tough men can benefit from a well-groomed brow.

And so can big, tough 9 year old boys.

Aaron was all smiles, excited to get his brows waxed. Yeah, maybe I encouraged him just a little bit to do it. But it was his choice.

Honest.

This is what we're dealing with - fine, blond, errant hairs. Ooooh, and there's a pretty good uni brow brewing, but I forgot to take a picture of it. Trust me. Aaaahhhh...like soothing warm honey

Zzzzzzzzzziiiip!

And again.

Just breathe, Baby, just breathe. You're almost done.

Now that's what I'm talkin' about.
And the redness goes away in a day or two.

Thanks, Aaron - you look so good! You are one brave kid.

Oh...and I won't be doing any Dishes and Laundry at all next week. No doubt I'll be doing dishes and maybe some laundry, but it will be at Bear Lake! Woohoo, family vacation time.

Enjoy the summer!

Movie Actor Movie

2008-06-23T05:50:00.000-07:00

Good morning.

Starting off our little game with

Charlie Wilson's War

Go.

Out of Towels...Again

2008-06-17T06:00:00.000-07:00

Notice:

************
(To all household members,
but particularly the 11 year old boy who likes to shower several times a day)

Using a clean towel to dry off your clean body, does not make that towel dirty.

Balling it up and throwing it in the dirty clothes hamper to mildew, does.

Stop it.

Thank you.

**********************************************************

If you could tell your family one thing about the laundry, what would it be?

Movie Actor Movie

2008-06-16T06:48:00.000-07:00

Good morning! In honor of the Father's Day weekend, I'm starting things off with...

Parenthood

Go.

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar...Or At Least Breathe Really Really Hard

2008-06-10T06:00:00.000-07:00

So yeah...I DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!! 80 miles.

It was the Little Red Riding Hood - an all women's cycling event. There were over 2000 participants and that was quite a sight to see. The Big Bad Wolf joined Kyla, Me, and Raimee for a picture right before we started.

It was a chilly morning, with clouds and a little bit of rain. I was glad I had gotten some tights and a jacket to wear. I was nervous and excited to get going.

To help things move along, the race-pace cyclists (20+ mph) left first, followed by the fast (15-20 mph), then the medium (10-15 mph), and finally, the slow (5-10 mph). We went with the medium pace. It was kind of scary to be all grouped together and trying to get out on the road. It was several miles before we were out of the pack. But it was spectacular to see - you could look ahead and just see miles and miles of brightly colored women, picking up speed, starting their rides.

To pass someone, you yell "ON YOUR LEFT!" as you come up behind them, and then hopefully they can scooch over a tiny bit and you can get by. We were told not to "ride wide" so we couldn't be any more than two abreast. And if you heard a car coming up from behind, you were supposed to yell "CAR BACK!" and the warning would travel up the line.

There were lots and lots of rest stops, and I think we used every single one. We could use the porta-potties, refuel on granola bars, cookies or fruit, mix up some Gatorade and top off our water bottles. At about the halfway point, we had a lunch of Subway sandwiches, chips, Gatorade and cookies. Back on the bikes...

The ride was advertised as "mostly flat with a few rolling hills". It felt more like mostly rolling hills with a few flat areas. Okay, maybe not mostly, but there were some big hills that I wasn't expecting. I was breathing so hard, and there was one time that I considered getting off and walking...but I didn't. I just kept telling myself, "You can do hard things, you can do hard things..." And I made it to the top. I think we guesstimated that hill to be around 2 miles long. It was a doozy.

Then there was one big downhill slope. I pretty much prayed and rode my brakes that whole way down. Even with the brakes, I reached over 30 mph. There were non-brakers whizzing by me and I bet they were going 40.

That. Was. Scary.

We also battled the wind. It was a freakish weather anomaly - at the rest stops, there was hardly a noticeable breeze, but out on the roads it was blowing like crazy. And every way we turned, it felt like we were riding into the wind. Never, not once, did we have the wind behind us. We had a little bit of rain, but it could have been so much worse. I never got uncomfortably cold - really, if it hadn't been for the wind, this would have been perfect riding conditions. I'm a little like Goldilocks...I have about a three degree temperature range before I start complaining about it being too hot or too cold.

A bug flew in my mouth.

The landscape was beautiful. Everything was green and fresh and I loved riding through all the small towns, looking at the big ranch houses, the massive lawns, and imagining the quiet, unhurried lives of the people who lived there. They waved to us and cheered us on. Occasionally I rode through a "country smell" and thought, "oh, that's just not right." I saw too many dead animals to count. But mostly, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.

Wait, scratch that. The hills were breath-taking. The scenery was beautiful.

The last rest stop was just about 7 miles from the end. I couldn't wait to get back. My legs felt a little jello-y, but all I wanted to do was get back on and finish this ride. Half of a Clif bar and couple swallows of Gatorade to go with my adrenaline - I was good to go.

We rode back to the starting point. Troy and the boys were waiting for me. Aaron saw me and started running toward me. I got off my bike and he gave me kiss and a hug. Troy yelled that we had to turn the corner and go past a table. When we did that, a bell was rung and we were handed a plastic cup with some sparkling apple juice.

It was the BEST BEST BEST tasting drink I'd ever had. I went back for seconds.

Then I got all cocky, struttin' around, and posing for the camera. Yeah, that's right...I rode 80 miles.

And then I realized that most everyone else who was getting back then...had just finished riding 100 miles.

Ah, who cares, now where's the food table?

Troy and the boys were my pit crew. They carried everything for me, tended to my every need, and told me they were proud of me. I was so glad they came along. I love you guys!

Cam said, "You are one tough Mama."

At the risk of being prideful and going down in some horrible fall...I would have to agree. Just this once.

I am one tough Mama.

Movie Actor Movie

2008-06-09T06:41:00.000-07:00

Good morning! I'm back from my big ol' bike ride, but before I write about that, let's play our game. Starting off with...

Signs

Go.

He's Got a Point

2008-06-06T09:17:00.000-07:00

In the first few minutes of Sacrament Meeting, Cam was irritating me to no end by poking at Aaron, teasing him, and generally being a pest. I'd had enough.

"Cameron!" I hissed, in my best chapel whisper, "You are 11 years old - now act like it."

"Mom," Cam shot back with a smile, "I promise, this is exactly what 11 year old boys act like."

Well played, Cam. Very well played.

When the Pavement Strikes Back

2008-06-05T06:58:00.000-07:00

So yeah, the whole family has new bikes. It's our "thing". Troy and I may have paid for it with our hard-earned money, but Aaron has paid for it, literally, with his flesh.

The past two times that we've gone out on bikes, Aaron has ended up lying on the pavement, wounded and crying.

He has a helmet, so his head's been safe, but he really really really needs gloves, elbow pads, a chest guard, and some heavy duty knee pads. The kid's going to look like Iron Man every time he gets on his bike.

I don't know what the problem is - it's not like he's going too fast or over a bumpy road. I guess he's still kind of new to the "no training wheels!" thing, but still. Poor, poor, bloody kid.

This is the latest:

He also has scuffed up hands, an elbow scrape, an arm abrasion, and a belly bruise. Life is tough. But his spirit is tougher - he wants to ride some more.

Long pants, sweetie. At least until I can get you the knee pads.

Oh, and pass the Neosporin.

Passion

2008-06-04T07:10:00.000-07:00

I think you can gauge your feelings towards something by the amount of money that you put into it.

An interest or a whim, say, a cooking class, might cost $20 - $40. You're testing the waters, seeing if you really like it, before you spend all sorts of moola on updating your kitchen stuff. It might be a one time thing.

Now a hobby is a little more serious. It's an on-going activity that you will continue to put money into, like scrapbooking, gardening, or sewing. You might spend $50+ every month.

Beyond interest and hobby though, after you have thrown so much money towards one thing (and you're starting to hide it from your husband), you had darn well better call it a passion.

That said, I...uh...have a new...uh...passion. It is the bike.

It began simply enough - with starting some spinning classes at the gym. Then my friend suggested that I join her and another group of teachers on a bike ride - the Little Red Riding Hood, an all women's century (with shorter options). This wasn't just riding around with Cameron at Bear Lake for 20 minutes in the morning; it was an honest to goodness cycling event. They were planning on riding 68 miles - and that has since been changed to 80. Lycra shorts with a gel pad are not optional.

I was intrigued. Could I do it? Was I strong enough? Would I need a new bike?

Yes. Yes. Oh, yes.

A month or two later I had skipped right over the hobby level of money, and went straight to passionate spending. I mean, spending money for my new passion.

Breaking it down, I have bought:

New bike. It's a beauty and I love her. She's so lightweight, a road bike, 28" tires, 21 gears, and a dark red.

Helmet. Shades of turquoise. To protect my head.

Gloves. Gel filled to help prevent nerve damage. Will also help protect the hands from road rash.

Hydration backpack. Actually, I got this for free - I won it in a drawing at the gym. I took that as a sign that I should definitely do the bike ride. If I hadn't won it though, I would have bought one.

Bike computer. Because I really really really want to know how far I've gone, how long it took me, my speed, and the calories that I've burned.

Lycra bike shorts with a gel pad. These will save your butt. Literally.

2nd pair of Lycra bike shorts with a better gel pad. Also, a smaller size. They need to be tight to prevent chafing.

Cycling jersey. Not that I'm going so darn fast that I'm looking to cut down on wind resistance...this is a strictly "looking the part" kind of thing. Apparently there is also moisture-wicking that will take place if it ever gets really hot.

Cycling socks. People swear by them. The moisture-wicking will prevent blisters.

Cycling shoes. The most expensive pair of shoes I have ever owned, and the only time I wear them is when the rest of me is looking like a sausage, stuffed into Lycra. The shoes clip to the pedals and give you a more efficient ride. Also a little more dangerous ride.

Cycling pedals. What the shoes clip on to.

Registering for the Salt Lake City Century. A perfect first-time ride - money well spent.

Registering for the Little Red. It's this Saturday and I Can. Not. Wait!!!! We are now planning on riding 80 miles.

Little Red Cycling Jersey. Because this is a very big deal and it will match my socks.

Hotel for Little Red. We wanted to go up the night before so we wouldn't have to leave at 4am to get there.

I think that's about it. See what I mean about passion? I'd better stay passionate about this for a looooooong time.

But now, all the stuff is (hopefully!) bought. Now I can just ride, and occasionally register for an event here and there. Maybe buy another pair of socks. Not much. No sirree, the spending is over. Thank you, Troy, for being so supportive and letting me get all this stuff. It's my, uh, passion, after all.

But then I've just had way too much fun. I've gone on and on and bubbled about it so much, that Troy's decided to join in.

Troy has a new passion...

The Bike Ride

2008-06-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this happened over two weeks ago, but it's still pretty relevant (in my mind at least) and I'm still pretty proud that I did it.

I went on an organized cycling event - the Salt Lake City Century. Never in my wildest dreams or imaginings would I have thought I would have/could have done something like this. But I did, and it was so dang cool.

I didn't do the whole century (100 miles) - I wanted to start off in this world of cycling with baby steps - so I rode the 36 mile option.

Everything about this ride was perfect - it was a beautiful, sunny day, mostly flat roads, and I only almost got killed once. Dang people in cars thinking it would be hilarious to scare little girls on bikes.

The ride was easy-breezy and I could have gone farther (I so wanted to!), but it was Aaron's birthday and I couldn't spend all day on it. Seriously, spinning classes at the gym are harder - the only thing giving me the slightest discomfort was the seat. Overall, I had a blast.

Troy, of course, drove me to the starting point and was taking pictures. Don't I look like a real cyclist?

Troy wanted to know why I wasn't buckling up my helmet for pictures.

I showed him.

A buckled strap + smiling = double chin issues.

Getting ready to start. Actually, I'm saying a quick prayer that I won't fall, have a flat tire, or get lost.

And we are off! That's my friend, Tamra, riding behind me. Her jersey is so much cuter than mine - plus it matched my socks. She wouldn't trade.

We rode and rode and rode, 17+ miles, and came to the first rest station. To my complete surprise, Troy had driven there and was waiting to cheer me on, pack me up if I needed it (he's secretly surprised that I can do this), and take pictures.

Mmmmm....Gatorade.

I found a couple of the teachers from the school. That's Mrs. J. in the middle - she's the one who got me started in all of this. They rode the 76 mile option!

Back on the road. Troy kept driving ahead and taking pictures. Tamra's laughing at me 'cause she knows that taking my hand off the handlebar scares the living daylights outta me. But I just had to pose, ya know?

And let's be honest...could there be a less flattering angle? Bent over and riding, I look like the Michelin Tire Man.

Crap.

We rode and rode and rode some more and then it was over. Final stats from my computer thingamajig: 37.7 miles in 2 hours and 50 minutes, max speed 23 mph, average speed 13.5 mph, and a whopping 1260 calories burned!!! Take that, Michelin Man!

We were smiling and I felt energized and just plain thrilled that I had done this. And then I was HUNGRY! Troy took me to Subway and I ate a foot long in less than a minute.

All in all, it was the perfect first riding event. I'd do it again in a heartbeat...and Troy even wants to do it with me next year.

In comparison...this is me after a 37+ mile bike ride:

And this is me last summer after my first tennis match:

Biking is easier. At least on flat roads, in sunny, springtime temperatures.

Coming up this Saturday: The Little Red Riding Hood Bike Ride. I'm planning on doing 80 miles. Woohoo!!

Movie Actor Movie

2008-06-02T06:00:00.000-07:00

So...do I have any readers left? It's a leap of faith, but does anyone want to play?

How about:

Sleepless In Seattle

Go.

(and don't give up on me...there's lots to come this week!)

Aaron On Housekeeping and Hormones

2008-05-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

Aaron, upon walking into the kitchen and finding it clean:

"Sweeeeeet...you did the dishes!"

****************************************************

Aaron, after listening to me vent to Troy (over the phone) about Cameron's general poor attitude and pre-pubescent sulking:

"I used to be the bad* one...and now it's Cam. Cool, huh?"

****************************************************

Aaron dropped an open bottle of pills and they scattered across the kitchen floor. He and I were down on hands and knees looking near the baseboards and using a flashlight to look under the stove. It shone on crumbs and dustbunnies, a juicebox straw and general nastiness.

"Eeeewwwww," I said, "Aaron, this is gross...I'm sorry it's such a pigsty."

"That's okay...we're used to it."

*****************************************************

After an emotional outburst from Cam, complete with stomping feet and a dramatic exit (the hormones, people, the hormones!!!!), Aaron asked,

"What's up with Cam?"

"He's going through a hard time."

"He's being a jerk*."

"No, he's just having some grumpy pre-teen feelings."

"I'm gonna go with jerk* on this."

And I quietly thought in a whispery voice, "Okay, me too."

(Just kiddin'. Cam! Even for a grumpy tween, I think you're great! Super, even. Mama just needs to give you a little space to spread your wings, huh? But in case I forget, cut me a little slack, okay?)

***************************************************

Disclaimer: I have never ever ever called anyone in the family "bad", "jerk", or any other name. Ever.

Happy Birthday, Aaron

2008-05-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

Nine years old! How did that happen?

Here we are on Aaron's Gotcha Day - he was two days old. Nope, can't even describe how it feels to be chosen, to be given a baby. For once I really don't have any words that seem adequate, but I think the picture tells it pretty well.

Aaron's hair was slicked down tight - and I mean really, really tight.

The next morning, we found out why...

Oh, my!!!
We got the hair thing (somewhat) under control...and then his head...um... his head started...growing.

And growing...

And growing...

(this is just about my most favorite picture ever!)

Oh Aaron,

We've had some moments like this:

hopefully, more of this:
a lot of this: (we're camping...I don't wear makeup or wash kids' faces)
and this:
and this:

and definitely a lot of this...

Aaron, you are so loved. You make me laugh, you make me want to be a better Mom, you make me proud, you make me a little crazy sometimes, and you make me feel loved.

Every single day, you make me happy.

Love, Mom

Birthmom Sabrina, Aaron, and me - how lucky are we?

Happy Birthday Aaron!!!

Fallen Woman

2008-05-20T07:01:00.000-07:00

Don't you think that 39 years old is just too old to be falling off your bike and getting all scraped and scabby?

Yeah, me too.

For Mother's Day, I got my bike shoes and clips that allow me to fasten my feet right on to the pedals. I click them into place and it gives me a more powerful and efficient push/pull action. It makes for a fabulous ride. However, if I don't get them clicked out of the pedals before I come to a stop...I will fall. Hard.

It hurts.

On the bright side, I imagine that it looks hilarious.

It also got me tons of sympathy from the little kids I read with at the school. They felt so bad for me and in a show of empathy, pushed up their pant legs and sleeves to reveal their own scabby scrapes. They wondered why an adult would fall off her bike.

I tried to explain about the shoes and the clips and how I was stuck to my bike and couldn't put my feet down (!), but they didn't get it. They just think I'm a klutz.

I'm trying not to pick at it.

Good grief...this happened clear last week. I'm much better at unclicking my feet now. I even went on a big ol' 36 mile bike ride last weekend! More on that (and with pictures!) later.

Movie Actor Movie

2008-05-19T06:42:00.000-07:00

Good morning!

Starting the game off with:

Terms of Endearment
(can you watch this and not cry?)

Go.

A Bad Morning. A Very Bad Morning.

2008-05-16T10:13:00.000-07:00

I called Troy the other day (he was in San Francisco) and asked how he was doing.

"I had a really bad morning."

Now generally speaking, even when Troy thinks that he's had a bad morning, it doesn't even compare to what I have to go through in my mornings. I'm the one waking up sleepy, grumpy boys, checking backpacks and finding unfinished homework, digging to find socks and favorite pairs of shorts in the piles of laundry, dealing with Aaron's moods, breakfast for all and trying to be out the door (with everyone happy) on time. Even on the best of mornings, it gets a little stressful. On the worst mornings, at least two out of the three of us are in tears.

So sorry, Troy. Your "bad" mornings are usually about a load not being ready on time and you having to wait. Or finishing your book on tape and not having another one to listen to. Or getting all worked up over the subject on your talk radio. Or when it's only 70 degrees instead of the balmy 75 that you are used to in San Francisco. Yessiree, your mornings can be tough.

But since I love him, I asked why his morning was so bad.

"I was coming out of a parking lot that had a steep driveway, and my trailer got stuck at the top."

"What?"

"My trailer got high-centered."

"Your 53 foot trailer...got high-centered?"

"Yes."

"BWAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHEHE! HEEHEEHEEHEE!"

"Yeah, that's pretty much the reaction that everyone has."

In defense of my extreme enjoyment of this story, no one was hurt, and it didn't cost us any money. Troy called a towing company and after being quoted nearly $600 to fix the situation, he decided to just wait for another driver from his company to show up and pull him off the hill. The only cost there was having to hear the driver laugh (and laugh and laugh) and then pass on this awesome story to everyone at Troy's company.

Turns out, Troy was right.

He did have a bad morning.

Movie Actor Movie

2008-05-12T06:52:00.000-07:00

Good morning! Hope everyone had a nice weekend. Thanks for starting off your week with a little Movie Actor Movie.

Pulp Fiction

Go.

In Training

2008-05-09T08:50:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, the instructor in my weightlifting class was leading us in some abdominal work- all kinds of killer crunches and obliques, core strengthening, etc. - all the while urging us to "pull in your abdominals, keep your lower back on the floor, pull your belly button in." And we'd lift and reach, chin to our chests, grunting (maybe that's just me) and counting down.

Then she casually mentions,

"You've got to make sure you are pulling in your abdominals as hard as you can...if you don't, you can actually train those muscles to stick out. If your abdominals are pushing out while you're doing these crunches, they will go out instead of in."

Excuuuuuuuse me? Stick out?????

Shoot.

Me.

Now.

Hey Flinders, No Flinders, Come On We Got to Go Flinders. Believe Us We're Your Friends

2008-05-07T13:50:00.000-07:00

I planned a perfect spring evening for the family. Troy was home, the house was clean enough, the homework was done enough, the weather was warm enough, everyone was in a good mood, and by golly I wanted to go out and have some fun.

We waited for Cam to get home from play practice and then we were going to head over to the tennis courts. The boys have been taking some lessons and they really enjoy it, Troy and I both love it, so with the promise of an Arctic Circle cone on the way home, we thought we had the perfect evening planned. Good old-fashioned family time.

And then Cam called from the school.

"I'm staying here to play with my friends, okay?"

"Noooooo, come home. We're going to play tennis! The whole family!"

"But I've been in school all day and then play practice. I want to be with my friends."

Seriously, the last time I checked, his friends are also at school and play practice.

"Come on, Cam, this will be fun...we'll get ice cream afterwards..."

"Please, Mom, please????? I just want to stay here. The weather's finally good enough to play football. I just want to be with my friends!"

I handed the phone to Troy and they had pretty much the same conversation. Before they even finished, I mouthed "Fine...let him stay...we're still going." Troy told him to call us so we'd know when he'd made it home.

We stared at each other. It's happened. No matter how cool I think we are (and we are!!), no matter how many cones we buy or how many perfect, fun-filled evenings of tennis we plan, he will want to be with his friends.

Not us. His friends.

( now this is how I know that Troy is the perfect man for me.)

If there had been an orchestra, the music would have swelled. Troy and I both started singing!

(wait a minute...could this be why Cam doesn't want to hang with us???)

Whatever. The lyrics came out, choppy in places, but we clung to each other and sang the song for every parent with a child who is feeling the pull of friends over family.

(oh, and apologies to Mr. de Axevedo if a lyric is wrong, and a thank you for writing the music score for my life.)

When he was just a little boy
Things were different then...
With eyes of trust he looked to us
To lead the way...

Always bringing us his fears
We could wipe away his tears
But things were different then
For he was just a little boy...

The years have passed
Like summer dew upon the grass
The little boy that held our hands
Grew up so fast...

There was a time he loved us
The way we love him now...
But growing up
Has changed it all...somehow...

Tell me that you remember this!

We laughed it off ('cause music cheers the heart), went and played tennis, had a great time with Aaron, and came back to Cameron, who was now wishing that he'd gone with us instead. We ate our cones in front of him.

Score one (I think) for the family. Fifteen/Love

Aaaaaaaghhhh! This growing up thing is hard! And Cam has great friends - seriously, I couldn't ask for better. They aren't like the those hooligans from Saturday's Warrior, dancing around in leather, growing their hair and planning a trip to California for their "Summer of Fair Weather" ('cause I know a place, where we can get it together....). Now that was a rough crowd!

Nope, his friends are good. I shouldn't have a problem with this at all. It's just hard to let go of my little boy. I have a friend who will be sending her son off to college by the first of next year, and I get a knot in my stomach just listening to her talk about it.

I wish I could hold onto my boys forever.

But since I can't (and I'm sure eventually I wouldn't want to) I'm just grateful to have a husband who remembers the words and will sing with me.

How Stimulating...

2008-05-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

So...anyone have their Economic Stimulus Payment yet? Have you mentally spent it, getting ready to do your part to stimulate the economy, or are you holding on tight and putting it in a savings account?

I want to do a little of both.

I like the peace of mind that comes with having a cushion-y little savings account. My income dries up at the end of the school year and it would be nice to have some money saved to carry us through the summer vacations, birthdays, and hello - our 20th anniversary in September.

Or we might just have to use it to buy gas.

Or rice.

****Speaking of rice...when I heard that it was being rationed (!) at Sam's Club, I worried and stressed for a short while. I wanted to search all over the valley and get a big supply. Rice, RICE!!! We must have rice!! But then I realized that we have enough - we don't even eat a lot of rice. Whew. I don't have to spend my Economic Stimulus Check on rice. Crisis averted. ****

Oh, there are so many things to do with this good-sized chunk of change. We could throw it all into the yard, landscaping and such. The boys need new bikes. Ramping up my food storage would bring some peace of mind. Summertime and Bear Lake vacations are coming up. That pesky credit card. The balance with my podiatrist. A new dishwasher. Laser hair removal for my underarms. New mattresses for everyone. Hiring the Dog Whisperer.

What to do, what to do?

The sensible me says to put it away and pad that savings account. Gas and food might be getting even pricier, and who knows when the next major car repair will be needed.

A savings account is good.

Spending is...um...more fun.

I remain undecided.

What are your plans for your Economic Stimulus Payment?

Movie Actor Movie

2008-05-05T06:35:00.000-07:00

Oh my. Back to back games of Movie Actor Movie because I've been, well, busy. Spring is here, tennis is calling, the yard is nagging at me, the bike is beckoning, and the writer's strike is over. What can I say...I've been neglecting the blog.

But all of that aside, I'm still up for a game today, so I'll start things off with:

Apollo 13

Go.

Movie Actor Movie

2008-04-28T06:49:00.000-07:00

Good morning. If you're not outside enjoying this wonderful (finally!) Spring weather, come and play - just link up the movie to an actor and then to another movie, one comment at a time.

To start things off, I'm going way back to my teen years, when I read the S. E. Hinton book again and again, cried at the ending every single time, and probably had a crush on pretty much everyone in the movie.

The Outsiders

Go.

For Your Viewing Pleasure Horror

2008-04-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

In the continuing saga of my foot...

My workout shoes were feeling like they needed to be replaced, plus they were looking kind of dingy after wearing them all winter. They were size 7 Avias. If I'd been smart, I would have bought another pair of size 7 Avias, but I was enticed by a cute pair of New Balance crosstrainers.

In the store they felt fine, very cushion-y and supportive, and they seemed wide enough to not squish the bones in my delicate feet. So I bought 'em.

Within a week or two my foot started hurting. Sigh.

Now I've had New Balance shoes before and didn't have a problem, so maybe it isn't really the shoes. With the warmer weather I've been doing more, walking Oliver, the occasional game of tennis, etc. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Whatever it was, the foot was in bad shape.

Since the past has taught me nothing, I waited a few more weeks just to make sure that it wouldn't go away on its own. Now the nerve was visibly swollen and my toes were spreading worse than ever. I was hobbling around and complaining to my family. I needed another shot.

I made an appointment with a new podiatrist- the last one was so freaked out by me taking the video, I wasn't sure he'd see me again. I sat in the waiting room and visited with a 90 year old World War II vet. He was funny and he kept calling me young lady, while he told me stories about the ships he served on. The waiting room was decorated in a nautical theme and I think that's what got him going.

A white-haired woman moved past with her walker.

More old people, some brought in by their own grey-haired children.

When the nurse took me back I asked her if I was the youngest person she'd seen all day.

"Oh, definitely. But last week we had a fifteen year old in here - he'd been injured."

I have the feet of old people.

The doctor took some x-rays just to see how bad it was. This isn't my x-ray, but it could be - except mine is worse. See all that lovely space between the other bones, where, I don't know, nerves could comfortably rest? And see how the bones are touching inside the circle? That's exactly where my neuroma is, only it looks like my bones are actually chipping away at each other. The doctor asked if I'd had some sort of trauma to my foot. Nope, just me walking on it, hehehe.

The nerve between those bones is so swollen that it pushes the toes apart in a permanent deformity.

So here's the plan:

We're going to manage the pain throughout the summer with the injections. Surgery to remove the nerve rarely works - nerves can grow back, painful scar tissue, bad recovery time - but possibly, if I'm still having the pain coming back in the late fall, the doctor wants to do a nerve decompression. He'll cut down through the top of my foot and clip the ligament that's holding my bones so darn close together. That oughta do the trick.

He'd do the clipping now, except that summer is coming up and he wants me to enjoy it. I can still play tennis. Plus, like all the other doctors, he's hoping that a few more shots will make it go away. I hope so too.

So here's my most recent shot. It hurt so bad - but he wondered if previous injections had not been deep enough and long enough - and he was making sure to go very deep and very long. Whatever that means. All I know is that it hurt worse than any of the other shots I've ever had.

I think I say that every time.

I was bending forward to video it and I had a "birthing a baby" grimace on my face. As he injected the cortisone and alcohol into the nerve, I could see my toes spreading farther and farther apart. They grew longer and it felt like they were going to literally pop off my foot.

When it was over I sat back and exhaled. I must have looked pretty bad - the nurse ran to get me a drink and told me to stay put until I felt better.

I suggest that you do the same.

Movie Actor Movie

2008-04-21T06:48:00.000-07:00

Good morning! Get ready to link up all your favorite movies and actors - it's super easy, so everyone come out and play

Starting off with the final movie named last week by Mrs. Sant....

A League of Their Own

Go.

Smarter Than a Fifth Grader? Um...No.

2008-04-18T06:23:00.000-07:00

Math was never my best subject - I spent much of middle school and the two years of high school math struggling to make it through. My Dad (also known as Mr. Math) would help me with my homework. Bless his heart, he was patient and knowledgeable; I was emotional, dramatic, sarcastic, angry, weepy and frustrated - a teenage girl. I could write the heck out of any English assignment, but when it came to math, my brain just couldn't wrap around the formulas and algebraic functions containing polynomial equations with coefficients and variable x and solution y!

I have no idea what any of that means...I typed math words into a search engine and that's what I came up with.

Now I function just fine in the real world.

I can balance a checkbook - though I don't. It's all online and frankly, I trust the credit union more than I trust myself.

I can figure a tip at a restaurant. I round up, do tithing plus half of tithing at lunch, tithing plus tithing at dinner.

I can figure the sale price at Kohl's. The tithing formula works here as well - or I just look at the little sign...it's already done.

And I can double or halve a recipe.

For over two decades, that's all the math I've needed.

Thanks again, Dad. It wasn't you...it's me. I've accepted my lack of math skills and I'm doing fine.

Until last week with Cameron's irresponsibly handled homework packet. There were a few mathy pages.

Most of them, Cameron did just fine. He's a whiz at math. But as the night got later, he was ready to throw in the towel and I was pushing for completion - remember, this was before I knew who to blame for the pile of homework. He came to a page that initially stumped him, and instead of giving him time to figure it out, I went all "Oh give me that...let's just get through it". Have I mentioned that I get a wee bit cranky past 9 pm?

The problem went something like this:

Tom and Tina opened up ten bags of jelly beans and dumped them into a bowl. They separated the beans by color and counted them.

Who thinks Tom and Tina need to get a life?

Cam added up all the amounts and came up with 1990 jelly beans. The rest of the questions were like this:

There are 57 black jelly beans. What percent of the jelly beans are black?

And on and on through the rest of the colors.

I. Was. Dumbfounded.

I looked through the math book - I couldn't find anything that made sense. We had a calculator, but I didn't know what to do with it. Cameron wanted to go to bed - he just didn't care anymore.

I can do percentages - I swear I can - when it's take 30% off a pair of shoes. Why was this different? We punched numbers into the calculator but it wasn't making any sense.

It was past ten, but I did the only thing I could think of. I called my Dad. Yeah, I'm almost 40, useless to my kid, and seriously math impaired. Daaaaaaaaaad!

I tried not to revert back to the emotional, dramatic teenager that he must remember well.

But Dad wasn't available. Mom was, though, and she knew exactly what to do. Seriously, is everyone smarter than me when it comes to math? Was I dropped on the math part of my brain? Have I had a stroke? How is it possible that my brain can't grasp this?

I told Cam the formula and he was all "Oh yeah, I remember". He whipped through the rest of the colors, found the percentages and added them up to equal 100%. Easy breezy.

Except I'm still scratching my head and my Mom wants me to come over for a little math lesson.

I'm sure my Dad would advise against it.

Anyway...do you know this?

If you have 1990 jellybeans and 57 of them are black, what percentage is that?

At Least He's Honest

2008-04-17T07:45:00.000-07:00

The night before the boys tracked off last week, we ran into a glitch in Cam's relatively homework free life. For this whole year, other than his reading and book reports and the occasional project , he just hasn't had any daily work. All of a sudden, he had a freakin' stack of homework. In addition to his regular book report, he had a bunch of math and an alarmingly thick packet of worksheets to complete - all due the next day.

Mama wanted an explanation.

Cam quickly placed blame on the substitute he had nearly the whole week while his teacher was in a training.

"She only gave us like 10 minutes a day to do this packet! It's not fair! She doesn't know how much time our work takes."

I was skeptical - substitute or not, this was a ton of homework. On the other hand, Cam's teacher assured me at the last parent/teacher that he always got his classwork done and he's a good student. So what was up?

He plowed through the homework - reading, report, math, and then he tackled the packet - all 15 pages of it. Some of it was busy work - crossword puzzles and word searches(these were already done), some grammar and sentence correcting and then a few pages heavy on the math. It took him until 11:30 at night to finish everything. I stayed up and offered moral support, encouragement, and agreement that the substitute was lame.

The next day, the last day before tracking off, I popped in to see his teacher and to ask if other kids had trouble finishing their work with the sub. I love that I work at the school. Cam? Probably not loving it so much. He knew the jig was up the second I walked into his classroom.

Cam, it turns out, hadn't been using his time wisely in class. The packet that the sub hadn't given them enough time to work on? Yeah, he'd had that for six weeks. Six. Weeks.

I quietly let Cam know that I was on to him, that I was ticked about staying up late when he'd had weeks to work on it. We'd talk about it after school.

I went home and stewed about it, literally simmering all the facts together and figuring out how to best approach this situation. I told Troy about it, and if I was irritated, Troy was downright angry. We couldn't get over the idea that Cameron has been lying to us. Lying.

Every day, I ask him if he has homework, and everyday he says "nope, just reading".

Lying.

Now Cam has a pretty sweet life, in my opinion. He plays with friends and has numerous late nights (the alternative to sleepovers), he has a cell phone and is starting to enjoy the freedoms that come with being 11. He's happy, helpful, agreeable, and we've never had a reason to worry about him until now.

Lying is huge - if he lies about one thing (um...homework for instance), how will we trust him about anything else?

He says he's going to a friend's house and that the parents are home...what if they aren't?

He says they're going to the park to play football...what if they go someplace else that I wouldn't have allowed?

He says he and his friends jump on trampolines and ride bikes and play xbox...but what if their afternoons are spent with cigarettes, booze and dancing girls who offer them drugs???????????

Okay, so it's easy to get carried away. But still...

I realize that Cam's lie was more of a lie of omission - he simply wasn't telling whole truth. He didn't bring his homework home, therefore he had no homework. The sub probably did only give them a short time to work on it, he just neglected to tell me that he's known about it for weeks. If I hadn't investigated, I would never have known, the homework got done...who was hurt by the little half-truth?

But if he gets away with the half-truths, will he start experimenting with the real deal lies? Like the whopper we admitted to?

Gaaaah -- this parenting thing is HARD!

By the time Cam got home I was ready to ~~rip into him~~ calmly explain how much it bothered his Dad and me...this lie thing. How we have to be able to trust him, to believe him when he tells us something. If we can't do that, we can't trust him with the cell phone, the texting, the Internet, to go to friend's houses...it goes on and on. Honesty and trust are big deals.

So I talked and talked and talked and talked to Cam. He insisted that he wasn't lying, he just kept forgetting to tell us/bring it home.

"So seriously, Cameron," I said, pecking at the subject some more ('cause that's what Mother Hens do), "even when I asked you every single day if you had homework, a lightbulb never went on and you thought "oh yeah, I guess I do!" "

"I just get out of school and talking about other stuff and I get busy and I forget. It wasn't a lie, I promise."

"But you understand how it seems like a lie to your Dad and me, right?"

"I don't lie." He was emphatic, "I'm just...I'm just irresponsible!"

I had to turn away so he wouldn't see me clapping my hand over my mouth. What do you say to that?

He was so sincere, I didn't have the heart to launch into my "you will be responsible" speech.

For what it's worth, I think Cam is responsible, an honest, great kid - we're chalking this up to Spring Fever, being 11 and testing some limits, a little parental freak out, and hey, who doesn't procrastinate or put things on the back burner every once in a while? He just got caught...and mainly because I'm nosy and work at the school. Poor kid.

But back to the lying...

Did you ever lie to your parents or have your kids ever lied to you?

Deal? No Deal.

2008-04-16T08:05:00.000-07:00

Who can resist the chance to win a million dollars?

Not Us!!!

Yeah, we went to the open casting call for Deal or No Deal, and yeah, it was CRAZY!

We showed up an hour before the line was closed - some people had been there overnight - and walked about a mile to get to the end of the line. We were carrying lawn chairs.

Now the lawn chairs seemed like a brilliant idea - and they would have been, if we'd been staying in one place for very long. But the line was moving, so if we sat we'd just have to stand up out of the chair every minute or so and move three feet. Hauling ourselves up and out proved to be more tiring than just standing, so in the end we just used the chairs to carry our purses and water bottles. Every time the line moved we dragged our chairs (that's a great noise, by the way) along the sidewalk and then just stood by them.

The people in actual wheelchairs had it made.

Anyway, we did that for the mile that the line snaked around the block and then we gave up and tossed the chairs on a grassy area. It was worth the risk of having them stolen - we just didn't want to carry them any more.

After ditching the chairs, we entered this area:

The far right is where the serpentine lines started. Those are the bathrooms in the upper right corner.

The lines continued on to this area. See the door going into the building...once you got inside, it was going to be another three hour wait.

We passed a sign that marked the 12 hour waiting time. There were people selling water bottles and pizzas. Red Robin burgers had a stand alongside a hot dog place. I think there was some entertainment up near the entrance to the building. People watching was good for us. We were surprised at how many people had their small kids with them - toddlers and babies in strollers.

Susan brought her cute daughter, Becca, along for the wait. I believe there was a promise of a trip to Claires. Becca was a trooper and the only one smart enough to wear a hat! My head is sunburned and sore - soon to be followed by itchy and flaky

Rumor circulating through the crowd was that the 11 page application that we'd spent all night filling out wasn't even being looked at. Instead, we'd have 20 seconds to tell about ourselves. We practiced.

We played name that tune. We played Movie Actor Movie.

We made it 5-turn lines into the big crowd, a total of three hours. But then our feet started hurting. And our backs. We were getting sunburned! We still had like 8 hours to go. Then some yahoo started smoking - and we were already packed, like so much cattle - and that just did us in.

"Why don't we just go to lunch?" someone suggested. Might have been me.

So we left. Badumpbump. End of story.

Cafe Rio never tasted so good.

Sick

2008-04-15T07:45:00.000-07:00

Sincere apologies for the following.

The sound is unmistakable - your kid throwing up in the middle of the night. And when it's far away - as in down the hall and in his bedroom, not close by in the bathroom - you just know it's going to be a long night.

There will be laundry. Lots and lots of laundry.

Over the weekend Cam was battling a stomach bug and at 2 am he lost the battle. There was no warning, he insisted, he simply woke up and threw up.

By the time I got to his room, he was standing up on his bed, horrified (and still half asleep), and looking down at the mess that had just come out of him. Cam likes lots of pillows and blankets - he creates a nest of sorts every night - so the damage was pretty big.

There were three pillows and three pillow cases, a blanket and a thick comforter, a fitted sheet, and Cam's boxers, all needing to be washed. That was at least four loads. The mattress needed scrubbing and Cam needed a bath and his hair washed. I wanted a shower too.

But the one who got it the worst, by far, was Oliver. He's been sleeping in Cam's nest for a while now, right up by his head, and trust me when I say that that was the worst place to be at 2 am on Sunday morning. Oliver. Was. Drenched. From head to tail, he was covered!

Now Troy has never been able to handle the cleaning and caring of a vomiting child. He has a sympathy reflex that makes him fairly useless, but that night, he was just going to have to suck it up and help with this. Troy's job was to bathe Oliver and to keep him from cleaning himself. I could hear Troy's faux retching while I tackled the bed and the mattress.

I wiped the bedding, stripped the bed, the washing machine got started, the mattress was scrubbed and sprayed (Febreeze, I love you), and Aaron moved to my bed to escape the smell. After Oliver got his bath (Thanks, Troy...I knew you could do it), Cam got in the tub and cleaned up, and then laid down on the floor on the pallet of blankets that I'd made for him.

I've been doing this whole parenting thing long enough to know the number one rule: Do NOT put a vomiting child into your bed after his bed has been ruined. You will end up with another ruined bed, and this time, it will be yours. Vomiting children sleep on the floor...or even better, in the bathtub.

I started another load of laundry.

We gave Cam some chewable Pepto Bismol, which he promptly threw up - made it to the bathroom this time. Oliver still smelled funky and Cam was crying over his stomach pain. Troy gave Oliver another bath and I headed to Walmart for the good stuff - liquid Pepto. It was close to 3 am.

Now Walmart at 3 am is...interesting. I didn't see any other shoppers, but the place was packed with people stocking the shelves. And anything that's said over the intercom (calling team meetings, etc.) is done in Spanish.

I got the Sick Kid Trifecta: Pepto Bismol, Sprite and Saltines and went through the one open checkout.

"How are you tonight?" asked the checker.

"Well, I'm on a Pepto run at 3 am - I've had better nights."

"Debit? Here's your receipt. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She recited her script, oblivious to my meager attempt at humor. Buenos Noches.

Home again, Cameron swallowed and kept down the medicine. He drank some Sprite and fell asleep, a large bowl by his head. I switched the laundry and started another load. Troy had opened a window in the boys' room to air it out and we so moved Aaron back to his bed.

Oliver slept in our bed, leery of being by Cameron again. Can you imagine the horror of his night? First, being awakened like he was, then two baths. Poor puppy. He needs a breath mint.

And definitely another bath.

Movie Actor Movie

2008-04-14T07:34:00.000-07:00

Good morning.

Come and play - starting with:

Forrest Gump

Go.

All Better

2008-04-11T12:48:00.000-07:00

I picked up my laptop from the laptop hospital today!!! It boots up, nothing is lost (that's an answered prayer right there, I'm tellin' ya), and the screen is quite a bit cleaner than when I last saw it.

Hallelujah and praise the PCLaptop man!!!!

Thoughts of the PCLaptop Man as he's wiping down the screen:

"What's this...oatmeal? Did she seriously eat her breakfast over her laptop? She must've sneezed...good grief...did she lick the screen? Why is there salt down in the keypad? Dang housewives."

I really can't even tell you what was wrong with it. One minute it was working - the next minute it wasn't. Troy (Mr. Gloom and Doom) went on about crashed hard drives, losing everything, compromised data, and whole "we should have been backing up" song and dance.

Thoughts of the PCLaptop Man after Troy admitted that we "don't back up".

"You know, we tell 'em and tell 'em that they need to back up, that the hard drive can crash at any moment and that they will lose EVERYTHING, but do they listen? No. So I gotta tell 'em again today. Will they spend the money to get a backup system? No. I wanna put a virus on their computer - if they don't start backing up within thirty days, the whole thing goes up in smoke. Dang guy that's married to the housewife that eats over her laptop."

We dodged a bullet - everything is still here. For $168.74, they cleaned it up, tuned it up, gave it some updates, checked a disk, and gave it a registry restore. And then gave me a good talking to about backing up. I said my husband would handle it and then I walked out to my car, cradling my laptop, almost giddy with relief and joy (that's right, it was joy. absolute joy over having my computer back. go ahead and judge me).

Thoughts of the PCLaptop Man as I walked out of his store:

"They won't back up. They never do. Look at her...did she just skip? She's happy now, but just wait until it really crashes. She'll be all "Oh, Mr. PCLaptop Man, my whole life is on this computer...help me, help meeeeeeeeee!" And I'll act like I feel sorry for her, but inside I'll be all "Told you so". Yeah, we'll see who has the last laugh. Dang housewives."

It just hasn't been the same without my laptop. Sure there were other computers that I could have used - and I did, a little bit. But my heart wasn't in it, between listening to "are you done yet?" and just missing my computer, I hardly got on at all. Now there are blogs to catch up on, banking to do, emails to send and pictures to upload. It feels good to have it home. All is well and right with my world.

And somewhere, the PCLaptop Man is laughing...

Movie Actor Movie

2008-04-07T07:02:00.000-07:00

My beloved laptop, just over a year old, is in the laptop hospital. There are very few material things that I would call beloved, but dangit, my laptop is one of 'em. If you know of any prayers for computers, please send them my way.

But even that won't stop me from starting off today with the Movie Actor Movie game. You know how it goes...I name a movie, you name an actor from that movie, next person names a different movie that that actor was in, and so on and so on.

Steel Magnolias

Go.

The Suit

2008-04-01T07:52:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, Cameron announced that he needed a suit. We couldn't have been more surprised - this is the kid who hates to wear his church clothes, needs special socks to function, removes all tags, and can hardly stand to have anything other than the softest, smoothest fabric touch his skin. A suit? Really?

Yes, really.

Apparently there were some big events coming up in his 11 year old world, and he felt like a suit was called for. I knew we'd be buying one when he turned 12 (sacrament passing and all), and I was expecting a fair amount of complaining over that - yet here he was, asking for one.

"Why do you need a suit?"

"For Junior Achievement Biz Town...I'm the CEO of the restaurant. I have to dress up. And after that we're going to the symphony."

I must have looked skeptical because he quickly added,

"And Easter. You always want me to dress up. I just need a suit."

"Well, okay."

Then I made him promise a thousand times that he would actually wear the suit and that it wouldn't go the way of every pair of jeans I've tried to buy him. 'Cause I don't think they make suits out of stretchy cotton jersey or the silky polyester track pants material that he loves.

The whole family was going along for The Buying of the Suit. We kind of had to see it to believe it. But as we were walking out the door, my friends came by with an invitation to go on a walk - how could I resist? So Aaron and Oliver went with the walking women and Troy and Cameron set off to buy the suit. Troy assured me that he could handle this. Mmmmkay.

Later that night, it was suit modeling time. Cam was so pleased and excited to show me. He had the tie, the white shirt, black suit...I waited in the front room while he changed and Troy fixed his tie. He walked out to show me.

At first sight, I sucked in a breath and let it out with a loud "aaawwwwwwwwww". He looked so good, so fine, so, so grown up. I oohed and aahed and spun him around, wiped a tear, and just stared at him. He knew he looked sharp, all dressed up, ready to be the CEO of a fictional restaurant, attend the symphony and dazzle on Easter morning.

But then...

As I looked a little closer, something wasn't quite right. The jacket was too big. Huge, even. It did not fit. At all.

Still smiling and not wanting to ever cast a doubt in Cam's mind that he looked awesome, I whispered to Troy,

"What's up with the jacket...it's kinda big."

"Yeah, they didn't have a jacket in his size. I didn't think the store would let me, but I found another suit and just took the jacket from that one. It matches."

"Not size-wise. It's huge!"

Then to Cameron,

"You look so good...did you cut the tags off already?"

They were in the wastebasket.

Size 10 pants...a perfect fit.

The jacket? Size 12, Husky.

Cameron could fit three of himself in there. He is nowhere near a size twelve and he's the opposite of husky. He looks like he's wearing a Zoot Suit. Hard to tell, but his knees are about 4 inches from the bottom of the jacket. He needs a fedora hat and a machine gun.

I pulled Troy into the bedroom with me, where I could hiss at him properly.

"What were you thinking? It doesn't fit!"

"It fits good enough."

"Why didn't you try another store?"

"'Cause this one's fine. The store didn't care."

"It was Sears. Of course they didn't care - they were just happy to have someone in their store!"

"He'll grow into it."

"Yeah, if he triples in size!"

Cam walked in and we sang out,

"You look soooooo handsome!!!!!"

He beamed.

"I know the jacket's big, Mom, but I like things loose. It's comfortable."

Troy still hasn't lost the smug look on his face.

So here's Cam - future CEO of Comfortable Clothing, Inc., selling mismatched suits to "I'm only going into one store" Dads. When not quite right is good enough.

Still looks pretty handsome, though, don't you think?

New Game - Come and Play!

2008-03-31T04:22:00.000-07:00

Last week, after I passed on Movie Quote Monday again, my sister-in-law, Elise, suggested a game called Movie-Actor-Movie. Super easy (I think), super fun (I think), and everyone should join in (I think)! Definitely everyone should play.

Here's how it goes --
Start with a movie: Grease

Next person commenting names an actor/actress from that movie: Olivia Newton John

Next person names a different movie that the actor/actress was in: Xanadu

Actor: Gene Kelly

Movie: Singing In the Rain

Actor: If you can't think of another actor/actress from Singing In the Rain, you can call End & Run of 5 (or however many links we got), and then throw out a new movie for people to play off of.

Anyone can end it and start with a new movie - but it will be fun to see how long we can go.

Does that make sense? Just link the movie to the actor to the movie to the actor to the movie to the actor and so on. Is this how you play it, Elise? Hope so...this will be the Dishes and Laundry version.

So...I'll start with a movie that has a lot of actors to go with:

Parenthood

Go.

One World Cafe

2008-03-26T14:14:00.000-07:00

For several months my friend Susan has been telling me about the restaurant that she and her mother like to go to: One World Cafe

I can almost guarantee that you've never eaten at a place like this...unless you have eaten there.

Last week, tired of Applebees and Chili's and all the other places that Ladies Who Lunch seem to frequent, four of us decided to make the trek downtown to this very unique little restaurant.

And I need to stop calling it a restaurant right here and now. It's a Community Kitchen.

These two guys were running it on the day we stopped by:

From their website, http://www.oneworldeverybodyeats.com/, this is what they believe in:

* We are dedicated to eliminating world hunger.
* We are dedicated to serving organic unprocessed food.
* We are dedicated to feeding and including all members of our community.
* We are dedicated to eliminating waste in the food industry.
* We believe that we can trust our customers to be inspired, honest and fair in their exchange of money and/or work for the fresh, gourmet, organic food we prepare both mindfully and in a heartfelt way each day.
* We will keep believing ...

Definitely not Applebees.

Anyway, as we walked through the doors of One World Cafe, we were met with wide smiles and a warm welcome. The guy on the right - who was wearing his hair in a thick braid down to the middle of his back - eagerly explained how it all worked.

The cold food (different kinds of salads) was in small dishes nestled in larger bowls of ice. There were two large pots of soup and a half dozen chafing dishes with all the hot food. He also pointed out a large dish labeled Free Food -- it had dahl (lentils)and brown rice - a complete protein. Some brown bread and and a bowl of butter and two dessert selections rounded out the offering.

Everything was organic, made from what food was available that day, and mostly vegetarian. There were a lot of cabbage dishes, both hot and cold, a few carrot salads, broccoli, a tofu entree, a green salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, orange slices, roasted potatoes, and several more things that I can't remember. The desserts were apple crisp or something called the Everything Cookie.

So if all that isn't unique enough, here's the kicker: There are no prices. After eating, you put money into a wooden chest, whatever you felt your meal was worth. You also grab a button out of a bowl and drop it into the chest - that's how they keep track of how many people ate there that day. If you are unable to pay, you can work for an hour in the kitchen, or, if it's summertime, you can work in the garden. And for those who can't pay or work...there is plenty of the dahl and brown rice.

I swear I almost started crying as he explained all this. It was really quite touching.

Since they are dedicated to eliminating waste, they served up our plates, assuring us that we were welcome to come back for more. The servings were small, just a spoonful or two, but my plate was filled with colorful, ~~scary~~ interesting food. All the plates and the silverware were mismatched. We served ourselves giant tumblers of water, and there was also coffee and tea provided.

We made our way down the hallway to find a place to sit and eat. It was an old house with tiny hallways and dark rooms filled with a hodgepodge of chairs and tables, couches and end tables. Lamps with dim bulbs and a few windows provided the light. Everything was old, but neat and tidy.

We found a table big enough for all of us and sat down and ate. I really enjoyed my food, especially the roasted potatoes and a cabbage dish that I've since duplicated at home. We were nourished.

I was aware of how we looked - different than the other patrons that were eating right then. We had arrived in a very fancy SUV, we were dressed to go "out to lunch with the girls", we had makeup and nails done, and we carried purses from Kohl's and Target. I don't know about the other ladies, but I was wearing a fragrance from Victoria's Secret.

We were different.

After eating a two inch square of the Everything Cookie (delicious!!!) we scraped our own plates, put our money and a button into the chest, thanked our two hosts, and made our way back out the front door. A backpack, the kind that holds every possession in the world, was leaning up against a post on the porch.

We climbed into the SUV (thanks for driving, Marsha!) and went back to our very different world.

So now I've told you about it, but you really do have to experience it for yourself. It was the most interesting, thought-provoking place I've ever eaten. Give it a try. Check out http://www.oneworldeverybodyeats.com/ and be nourished..

No MQM Today

2008-03-24T07:07:00.000-07:00

Sorry - Going to gone all day again. Have a great Spring Break Monday!

15 Minutes of Shame

2008-03-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday started off with a calorie-burning bang. I went to Zumba- a Latin dance inspired exercise class - and worked up a sweat and a very red face. Serious fun.

Ate a healthy breakfast and then went to the grocery store with my mind full of all the healthy items I would be buying. For some reason, brussels sprouts were on my mind. I read somewhere that they are nutritional powerhouses and I was determined to eat them. But as I was driving around looking for a parking spot (it was Walmart on a Saturday morning, 'nuff said) I noticed that both entrances were staked out by cute little girls in uniforms.

Girl Scouts.

Crap.

They had posters and smiles and dynamic little personalities, and they weren't letting anyone by without a strong invitation to buy their cookies.

Again, crap.

I called Troy from the safety of the car.

"I'm about to be attacked."

"What's up?"

"Girl Scouts. At Walmart. They won't let you in unless you buy cookies."

"Just say you're not interested."

"They're at both entrances."

"Just walk on by. Pretend you're talking on the phone."

"But they're cute and smiling. With missing teeth. They have uniforms. And braids."

"So get some."

"I don't want cookies in the house. I bet they have Thin Mints."

"Goodbye."

Why, oh why did the Girl Scouts have to be at Walmart? I just wanted my brussels sprouts and whole grain bread and high fiber cereal and my soymilk.

But the braids...

I bought two boxes.

By the time I got home it was 11:30. The boys helped me put away the groceries (I did get my brussels sprouts, by the way) and as a reward, they got the box of Tagalongs and strict orders to eat them all.

I ate a healthy lunch and then changed clothes and went on a bike ride. Burned a few more calories and froze my ears. Home by 12:30.

The rest of the day went something like this:

12:30-1: Dishes, laundry, various other household things. Not eating Thin Mints.

1-2: More laundry, folding and putting away. Working on a Primary lesson. Drinking water.

2-3: Fixing food for the boys, a phone call, staying busy and NOT eating the Thin Mints.

3-4: Ate a healthy snack, showered and did my hair and makeup. Hey, it's Saturday.

4-4:30: Laundry, glance at the lesson, read blogs while NOT EATING the Thin Mints. Hehehe...I didn't really look at the lesson again.

4:30-5:45 Took Aaron to the doctor and then to Petsmart to buy a new collar for Ollie. He has hidden the old one.

5:45-6: Picked up Cam from a friend's house, came home, heated leftovers for the boys. Took a final load out of the dryer. Drank big glass of water.

6-6:15: Sat down to clear out the Tivo and ate an entire sleeve of Thin Mints.

6:15-6:20: Gave other sleeve to the boys with instructions to eat them all and not let me have any. Even if I begged.

6:20-6:30: Stole one Thin Mint every minute.

6:30-6:45: Rounded out my "dinner" with a half bag of steamed brussels sprouts, angry at myself and cursing the Girl Scouts.

Yeah, that's me.

Do you have a Girl Scout Cookie story of shame? Please share. Tell me I'm not the only one!!!

Movie Quote Monday

2008-03-17T07:52:00.000-07:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Say this quote with an Irish accent (actually, do Irish, Scottish, Irish, Scottish, Irish), and then join in.

"Stephen is my name. I'm the most wanted man on my island. Except I'm not on my island, of course. More's the pity."

"Your island? You mean Ireland."

"Yeah. It's MINE."

"You're a madman."

"I've come to the right place then."

Go.

Who Wants Advil? Oh, Let's Just All Take Some.

2008-03-10T18:00:00.000-07:00

What's a day at the orthodontist and dentist if you don't bring along your camera? Not nearly as much fun.

Aaron was the first one with an appointment yesterday. He had his Rapid Palatal Expander installed. We're just going to call it The Crank. As in, "Let's crank your mouth apart every evening at bedtime".

I am soooo looking forward to that.

The Crank is only mildly uncomfortable, however, Aaron's having a hard time talking. He's got a full-blown speech impediment now, and if I'm not looking at him it's hard to understand him. And since he can't put his tongue up to the roof of his mouth, swallowing is difficult. Also, his mouth thinks the Crank is food and is trying to break it down by producing lots and lots of saliva. Saliva that he can't figure out how to swallow.

By the time we get to the dentist so his two cavities can be filled, Aaron's pretty tired of me asking him to repeat himself, he's hungry (but can't eat), and he's got a mouth full of saliva (that he can't swallow). This day is awesome.

How about a nice shot in your gums? That oughta brighten your day. Breathe deep through your nose, baby, breathe deep.

Cameron's in the next room getting the same treatment. He doesn't have any cavities, but he's getting two permanent teeth pulled as the next step in his orthodontic journey.

He took to the nitrous oxide reeeeeeeally well.

The dentist came in and with a few wiggles and a gentle yank (or two), Cameron's mouth and his teeth parted ways. I wish wish wish that I could have been at a good filming angle, but I wasn't. So this will have to suffice:

It's every bit as deep as it looks.

Cam's supposed to keep his tongue away from the clots and he can't drink through a straw until it's all healed. Drinking with a straw could dislodge the blood clots and he'd get something called Dry Socket, which is so horrible and so painful that I've thrown away all the straws in the house. Just in case.

Still a little glazed, lips stretched beyond recognition, needing some Carmex, missing two teeth, mouth tasting like blood...and yet, Mom wants a picture. I thought there would be more coddling.

We can add these to the collection of teeth:

We headed home and Aaron attempted one smile in the elevator. Great. Now his lips and cheeks don't work either.

I bought him a shake and he tried to eat it, but it just kept falling out of his mouth. He would NOT let me take a video of him trying to eat. I had to promise to stop laughing, but darn it if that wasn't the funniest thing I've ever seen.

Dinner was tomato soup, yogurt, and a smoothie - spoon eaten, thank you very much. Nobody feels like chewing tonight.

And Advil. Lots of Advil.

No MQM Today

2008-03-10T07:05:00.000-07:00

Holy Busy Day, Batman!

I'm working at the school, taking Aaron to the orthodontist for his palate spreader, Aaron to the dentist for fillings, Cameron to the dentist for sealants and the removal of two permanent teeth (I'm anticipating a heavy Advil use in our home tonight), and I just don't have time to play.

There will also be considerable coddling, sympathy giving, smoothie making, and the tending to every little whim and need.

No one does over-zealous mothering like me.

Have a great day!

Science Fair Finale

2008-03-03T15:00:00.000-08:00

So the District Science Fair was last Friday night. I Cameron had an awesome project so we were fairly hopeful that he could continue on to the state level. Rumor has it, there's a pizza party when you attend the state science fair, so Cam was all excited about that.

We set up on Thursday night, standing in various lines to be assigned table space and interview times. We had to be back at 5 o'clock on Friday for his interview, then wait around for the judging and viewing of all the projects. It was going to be a long evening and we were told to bring food and stuff to do while we waited in the cafeteria.

And boy-oh-boy, it was all about the waiting. I had a backpack with crackers, water bottles, M&Ms, cheese sticks, paper and pencils, a Nintendo and a book - also Excedrin. There were, I'm guessing, around 1000 people crammed into the school's small cafeteria. The noise was terrific and all the bodies were making it uncomfortably warm. We were sitting crosslegged on the floor for about 2 1/2 hours - my hips still hurt.

Cam was cool and collected - chillin' and listenin' to some Jonas Brothers. Waiting isn't so bad when you've got good music to listen to.

How're those braces feeling? Not bad - especially since it's just the brackets. He won't get the wires until he has some teeth pulled in a couple weeks. Don't the braces make him look grown-up?

Uh oh. Aaron is ticked that Cam has music to listen to and he doesn't. And Cameron isn't about to share with him - 'cause eeeewwwww, sharing ear buds is nasty. (I don't blame him; I've seen the inside of Aaron's ears) See how Cam is pretending that he doesn't notice Aaron on the verge of a music-jealousy meltdown?

He totally notices.

Hey, Aaron. Remember it's your birthday in a couple months. Bet you get an mp3 player. Also, you can empty all of Dad's music off of his ipod and load it up with yours and use that until you get your own. Whew...meltdown prevented.

In the end, we all stayed in a good mood. Around 7:30 they opened up the fair to the public and we could walk around and look at the 309 displays. After an hour or two of that, they started reading off the winners...and Cam wasn't one of them. I think we both felt an equal mix of relief and disappointment. I assured Cam that his project was every bit as good as the 120 projects that did go on to state, and I promised him a pizza. Good enough for him.

He was a little sad, but we were also kind of science-faired out. And every once in a while, a little disappointment is good for the character, don't you think? Good experience, very interesting, loooong night, and a pizza party with just me and m' boys.

Now if only my hips would stop hurting.

Movie Quote Monday

2008-03-03T07:41:00.000-08:00

Good morning.

Just because I watched a few minutes of this one yesterday, I'll start off with...

"Nine million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister."

Go.

Unintentional Break

2008-02-29T12:44:00.000-08:00

Oh. Hello. Sorry I wasn't here when you stopped by, my faithful readers.

I read somewhere that you shouldn't apologize for not updating your blog - to do so would be narcissistic and with the assumption that people were clicking on right and left, waiting for your words. But apologizing - or at least offering an excuse - feels like the least I can do, when people have been wondering and asking me where I've been.

I've been...uuuuhhh...busy. Yeah, busy...that's the ticket. I became busy in this final week of February.

There was a doctor's appointment, two dental appointments, two orthodontist appointments, several prescriptions to fill (2 pharmacies, crazy amount of waiting time), a few birthdays to shop for, the district science fair set up and (tonight) interview and judging, a Blue and Gold Banquet, a couple of English lessons with my new Iranian friend, Mah'naz, and all the other things that seem to take up my days.

Also, I've been watching Oliver discover the outside world in some delightful, dare-I-say, Spring-like weather and marveling that Cameron's mouth is now full of painful-looking metal, and that it is costing more to straighten his teeth than it did to adopt him.

It seemed the week went by in a flash - I hardly even sat down to the computer. See? Busy.

But everything is fine, life is good, and I hope that's true for you as well.

I bought a new scented oil for my Bath & Body Works oil warmer - Pineapple Mango. It's sweet and fruity and heightens my anticipation for Spring. It's making me happy.

What, in your busy life, is making you happy today?

Movie Quote Monday

2008-02-25T07:50:00.000-08:00

Good morning! This was left from last week (when y'all went to bed early), but it's so good, I'm starting off with it today.

"Well, these thighs haven't gone out of the house without lycra on them since I was 14."

"You were brought up right."

Go.

The Naughty Toddler

2008-02-21T07:45:00.000-08:00

Oliver has quickly grown to over 11 pounds of puppy fun. He's about three months, which puts him at almost two years old in human years.

He's a furry toddler.

I remember when the boys were going through this stage and they wouldn't even let me go to the bathroom alone. It's pretty much the same with Oliver. If I shut the door on him, he cries and cries. If I let him in, he's just a little too curious. When I take a shower, he's peeking in to see what I'm doing.

The roll of toilet paper can't go on the spindle (as long as we can't remember to keep the door shut anyway) because Oliver can reach it and he'll have the time of his life doing this:

And this:

He tries to look all innocent when he's caught red-handed...

He won't hold still for pictures...

He'd just as soon play with the box than with any of the toys we buy him...

But the craziest thing I have to do with Oliver that reminds me of when the boys were young, is the tiptoeing around when he's asleep - an elaborate game of Don't Wake the Baby.

Oliver sleeps with Cameron usually, and he's pretty good about sleeping through the night. But the second he hears anyone walking around in the morning, he's up and ready to begin the day. Not so good when I get up at 5:15. If Oliver gets up, I have to take the time to let him out and then he's not about to go back to sleep, and nobody else wants to wake up to be with him while I go to the gym. My whole goal first thing every morning is to sneak out of the house.

After my alarm goes off, I tiptoe down the hall and drop to a crawl in front of the boys' bedroom. The laundry basket props the door open, so I delicately push it until the door will swing shut. So, so quietly, I turn the knob and pull it into the frame.

Now I can get ready, but I'm still worried about the sound of water running and the garage door waking him up. I'm like a burglar moving through my own home. At least when the boys were babies, if they woke up I could throw them in bed with Troy, move his arm so it was propping the bottle, and be on my way. That doesn't quite work with Oliver.

Every day that I can make it out of the house without waking him up feels like a tiny miracle. Woo Hoo! I'm so easy to please.

Gotta go. I think Oliver's learned to open the cabinet under the bathroom sink. Time to install those cabinet locks again.

Definitely a toddler. At least there are no diapers.

In Stores Now

2008-02-20T07:52:00.000-08:00

Heaven help me, not only is the Valentine's candy 75% off, this is in the stores now:

May I present, the

Easter Trinity of Temptation:

Shiny, solid, name brands only.

Chocolate and peanut butter. 'Nuff said.

Remember licking the pastel shell and rubbing it across your lips like funky blue lipstick?

Me too.

Jelly Beans and Peeps? Please.

Note to Self: Stay out of the stores.

What do you find irresistable as far as Easter candy goes?

Tagged Again

2008-02-19T07:50:00.000-08:00

My friend and frequent commenter on Movie Quote Monday, Pinklady, tagged me last week. So just in case there's anything else I haven't already told you...

Ten years ago I was: 29. Cameron had just turned one and I was happily immersing myself in Mommyhood. Seriously, I was having the time of my life with him. I worked at the sign company (part owners) just 2-3 days a week and my sister, Kelly watched him for us. I was Young Women's president in our ward. We were finishing all the paperwork to adopt another baby, and I was getting excited to open up our adoption with Cameron's birthmom. I was happy with my weight (this is significant only because I can pretty much tell you my weight and pants size at every age, also what diet I was following. There have been fluctuations.) and I was doing a step class 3x a week. I was trying my hand at scrapbooking.

5 things on my to-do list:
1. I need to clean out our storage room. This will still be on my list a year from now, just wait.

2. Make a dentist appointment for Troy. He says something's brewing in his mouth, and that's not good. I think I'm still paying on his last dental bill.

3. Continue building up my food storage. The boys call it the grocery store in the basement.

4. Catch up on my tivo. I'm waiting for Troy to be home so we can watch American Idol and Lost together.

5. You know there's some laundry to fold. That is the absolute first thing on my list today. Okay, after I'm done blogging. And after I get back from Sam's Club. And after I do some dishes. Maybe I'll get to it.

3 bad habits:
1. I'm too critical of myself.

2. I let the waiting-to-be-folded laundry pile up. Oh, you probably already know that, so that doesn't count.

2. I spend what we earn in a paycheck to paycheck kind of way. Getting better on that one.

3. I correct Troy's grammar. I can't help myself. He replaces the word loan with borrow, as in "Will you borrow me your nail gun?", and it's like fingernails on a chalkboard until I blurt out the correct phrase. I think he's just doing it to bug me.

If I suddenly became a billionaire: I'd be debt free, with awesome savings and retirement accounts. My family would be debt free. Missions and college would be paid for. That doesn't even touch it, does it? I need to start dreaming bigger.

Things I like to snack on: Well, is it a healthy day or an I don't care kind of a day? If it's a healthy snack, I like blueberries, edamame, and Baked Tostitos Scoops with Walmart brand Peach Pineapple Chipotle Salsa (don't knock it till you've tried it). But I can eat an entire bag of those chips and a whole bottle of that salsa at one time, so that kind of crosses it off the healthy side. If I'm throwing all calories to the wind, I love ice cream, chocolate, chips and dip or salsa, and Flamin' Hot Cheetos. I have no portion control and I need to balance the sweet with the salty.

Places I've lived: Speedway, Indiana - you could hear the racecars going around the track; Salt Lake City, Utah, then on to Sacramento and San Jose, California, and then back to Utah.

Things people don't know about me: I've never had my nails done. I still have a baby tooth that never fell out. That's it...I think I've told everything about me. If there's anything you want to know, go ahead and ask.

I tag Mrs.J and Nora.

Movie Quote Monday

2008-02-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

Good Morning! Do you have the day off? I do, but no big plans, so I thought I'd start the day off with a little...

"I always knew you were alive, I knew it. Everybody said that I had to let you go. I love you. You're the love of my life."

Go.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad

2008-02-14T16:14:00.000-08:00

32 years!!!!!

Yes, my parents were married on Valentine's Day, which I always thought was very romantic - an entire holiday centered around them.

They had a whirlwind romance: He lived in California, she lived in Utah with her two daughters, (the youngest of which was particularly sweet) and they were set up on a blind "date" phone call. One phone call led to another and then another and then another. This was before free weekend minutes and unlimited long distance. It was a full-price long distance romance.

I hate that I don't know more specific details (help me out, family) about how it all came together, but the next thing we knew, they were getting married. And I really hate that I don't have one of their wedding pictures to put up - it was the 70's, so you know it's good.

But check them out now - don't they look amazing? And they are in love. It's the real deal, hand-holding, door opening, good-bye and hello kissing, I made you a cherry pie, I gassed up your car for you, let's take a walk together, flat-out adoring kind of love.

How cute are they?

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. Thanks for your example of a happy marriage, of care and concern, of respect and romance, and true, true love.

May we all be so lucky.

And One More On Aaron

2008-02-13T13:11:00.000-08:00

Aaron ran up the stairs the other morning and came into the kitchen. I was sitting at the table (my own little computer nook) and I was partially obscured by the bread machine that was busy making dough on the counter. (note: this was two weeks ago...I'm not eating white bread this week.)

He walked over to the sink and paused. He didn't see me so he was pretty much talking to himself.

"Any clean dishes?" He opened up the cupboard to check.

"Ooooooo!"

There were, in fact, clean dishes. His "Ooooooo" was kind of high pitched and excited - the same sound I make when there are good magazines in a waiting room or someone offers me a brownie. (I would decline this week...I'm also not eating chocolate-flavored flour.)

"Finally...clean dishes."

Then he reached into the cupboard, pulled out a glass, and got himself a drink of water. He went back downstairs - taking it with him, where there are, no doubt, a dozen empty glasses.

You should hear his excitement over clean socks in his drawer.

That's my Aaron.

"No Mommy, Not The Toys!!!!"

2008-02-12T14:51:00.000-08:00

The boys have been off track for the past three weeks and they have thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to stay up late, sleep in, hang out in pajama pants (or underwear and a blanket), play their games and watch their shows, and generally live a life of leisure. Ahhh, childhood.

The only thing I really required of them during this little vacation, was that they feed themselves breakfast and complete a short list of chores while I'm at work every morning. I get home around noon, so even if they slept until 11 (easily done), they could still get everything done before I showed up. Bonus for me - if there is any complaining about who has to do what or how unfair this whole chore business is, I don't have to listen to it.

I kept things pretty basic:

make bed
brush teeth and shower (they are boys, after all, and likely to forget)
unload the dishwasher
separate laundry
fold towels (I haven't folded any towels in 3 weeks!!!)
put away stacks of folded clothes
do 30 minutes of reading
eat (I swear they wouldn't if I didn't remind them!)
take out garbage
do the recycling
general pick up
anything else I could of as I'm heading out the door

See, nothing too tough or overwhelming. And to their credit, they completed the list every single day.

Except one.

Bothered by the fact that we own a billion (rough figure) toys and yet, all they ever seem to do with any regularity is play on the computer, I added this to the To Do List:

Play with toys for 45 minutes

I was kinda kidding, but kinda not. It was just there on the list with everything else I expected them to do.

Aaron, who takes everything very literally, worked hard to get it done.

A few minutes after I got home, he moped over to me and ~~said~~ whined,

"I've been playing with toys since 11:30...can't I stop now. Isn't this long enough???"

Well, I'm just a big softy, so I let him off the hook.

He ran down the stairs, jumping over the bottom three steps, his arms raised triumphantly.

"Woo Hoo!! I don't have to play with toys anymore!!

He'll do a dozen real chores without so much as a groan, just don't make him play with toys. Go figure.

Movie Quote Monday

2008-02-11T07:16:00.000-08:00

Good morning!

Get your quotes ready...

"You're right! You're not your dad! He could sell a ketchup Popsicle to a woman in white gloves!"

Go.

The Oddest Thing

2008-02-08T08:58:00.000-08:00

Troy had an unexpected day off in the middle of the week - which is actually what we've come to expect this winter. When a bad storm is raging over Donner's Pass, he waits a day before heading out. It saves him driving time, it's safer, and gives him a chance to take care of things that are on his "I'll get around to it" list.

It also means that I have to cook a for-real meal two nights in a row.

But that's beside the point.

With two whole days, Troy's been super productive.

He has:

changed a few high light bulbs
fixed the stuck stopper in the bathroom sink drain so we won't have to brush our teeth and spit in the tub.
cleaned out the slow-draining drain in the tub. It's my hair that's clogging it - sorry, Babe.
done our taxes
vacuumed - he's good like that
played the Crack with the boys, and
bought new tires for my Explorer

I've needed new tires all winter. Man, I hate spending money on tires. Hate spending money on cars, period. But I really really really did need new tires. It's been a slippery, slidey, snowy winter - we couldn't put it off any longer.

He and Aaron drove off on the bald tires and went to see Les Schwab Tires. Les would cost less, Troy assured me.

Couple hours later they came back home. Four brand-spankin' new, shiny black tires. 235/R17 Toyo All Terrain, white walls out - just in case any men read this.

And of course, one of my anti-sway arms was out (oh whatever!!), and the whole thing ended up costing slightly less than my mortgage payment. Kind of bitter about that.

I went out to oooooh and ahhhhh over my new tires and to give Troy a kiss for caring about our safety. He handed me a bag.

"Here. I brought you something."

The bag was much too heavy for the standard "here, I brought you something" Reese's Peanut Butter Cup or bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos with Limon. I peered inside.

"What the...?"

"They gave it to me. For buying the tires."

Really.

Two pounds.

Now, is that just the oddest thing you've ever heard of?

Few Things Are More Pitiful...

2008-02-07T08:24:00.000-08:00

Than Oliver after a bath.

Do you see a resemblance?

What is Oliver thinking right now?

Part II: Will Juror #2 Please Stop Rolling Her Eyes While the Witness Is Speaking

2008-02-06T07:24:00.000-08:00

Just kidding. The judge didn't really say that to me- but only because my eye rolling wasn't the most blatant and obvious. The policeman (witness for the prosecution) was not only rolling his eyes, he was stifling laughs and Juror# 4 was expressing herself in exasperated sighs.

It was a very interesting day in court. And by interesting, I mean that I was mentally blogging it.

As soon as the door shut behind those who weren't chosen, we were sworn in, given badges to wear around our necks and notepads and pens. We were instructed to wear the badges for the rest of the day, even when we were released for lunch, so that the general public would know not to talk to us if they saw us leaving the courthouse.

Public shunning, mmm hmmm.

We also got a very stern lecture about not talking about the case with each other before all the parts had been played out. We'd have lots of breaks and opportunities to talk, but until it was over, the trial and anything relating to the trial was off limits.

We were reminded several times that just because the defendant was here today, did not mean that she was guilty in any way.

The Prosecution started things off with her opening statements. She introduced us to the defendant, Miss Sad and Remorseful, and explained that she was arrested last summer after being observed not staying in her lane (she was driving down a Trax track!!!) and after field sobriety tests and a breathalyzer showed her to be impaired and over the legal limit. Two policemen would be called as witnesses, and she (the Prosecutor) knew that we would find in favor of the state.

Next up was the Cutest Attorney In the World. He smiled his gleaming smile as he walked across the courtroom. He was friendly and slick, reminded me a little of Matthew McConaughey in How to Lose A Guy In 10 Days. He re-introduced us to Miss Sad and Remorseful, and then explained how poor signage was the cause of her Trax driving, and the policemen were exaggerating the results of the field sobriety tests, and the breathalyzer - must've been not working properly that night. He believed that we would find her not guilty.

And then we had to go to lunch and not talk about what we'd just seen and heard.

We walked to Burger King (court didn't even buy us lunch!) and the four of us sat in a booth and tried to talk about anything except the trial. We talked about President Hinckley, the weather, and what each of us would be doing if we weren't here for the day. I was dying to talk about the trial - it was all I could think about!

We went back to our little waiting room - we were officially sequestered. It was a small, cramped room with two windows that were near the ceilings. We were locked in. There was a small fridge with some pop and water bottles, and a basket with Cheese Nips, peanut butter crackers and fake Oreos. We had to knock on the door for the baliff to let us out to go to the bathroom. We wondered how we'd get out in case of a fire. Still couldn't talk about the trial.

Finally the baliff came in and said that they were ready for us. We had to stay in a single file line, in the same order, for the whole day. We went down two flights of stairs and through a bunch of cubicle office spaces to get to the courtroom. The gravelly-voiced woman had arthritis in both knees and had a really hard time on the stairs. Each time we had to travel between the courtroom and the sequestering room, it took a good 5 minutes. We all shuffled along - it looked like March of the Penguins. When we made it to the courtroom, the baliff opened the door and asked that everyone stand as we walked in. That was kind of cool. I felt like I should wave or something.

Okay, down to business.

First witness was the police officer that pulled the defendant over. She drew on a white board how she had seen her driving down the Trax line, realize the mistake and back off the tracks. When she pulled her over, she noticed Miss Sad and Remorseful was chewing gum very fast and was holding her hand over her mouth.

Did you know that drunk people do that to hide the smell of alcohol? Geez, I chew gum all the time - breath paranoia.

The officer could smell alcohol anyway and called for backup - another officer who specialized in field sobriety tests.

He was the next witness and he explained how he did the tests, arrested her and impounded her car. At the police station, he administered another breathalyzer test and her results were .118. Utah limit is .08.

Time for the cross-examination, and this is when I decided that The Cutest Attorney In the World was kind of a putz.

He was so rude to the police officers! He did his best to make them look like they didn't know what they were doing and that they were exaggerating how drunk the defendant was. He questioned everything they did and every report they filed, all with such an air of smugness. Instead of making the witnesses look less believable, it just made him look desperate and rude.

I know this is how the whole process works, picking apart each side -- I've seen Legally Blonde many times -- but it just made me uncomfortable to see it in person.

Another reason I didn't like the Cutest Attorney In the World - he kept objecting to things the prosecutor was saying. He would interrupt her and then he would make a small show of laughing at her. Again, part of the process, but it just seemed so rude and bossy of him. In any other circumstance, she would have clawed his eyes out and told him to shut the crap up! He was really bugging me.

More breaks, more stairs, more Cheese Nips. No talking about what we were all thinking: why are we even here? The lady was drunk and driving!

Okay, now it was time for the Defense. The one thing that The Cutest Attorney In the World did well, I guess, was to coach Miss Sad and Remorseful on how to look and how to make constant not-guilty eyes at the jury members. I was sitting in a spot where she could see me and one other juror. I don't think she took her eyes off of us once. She looked so pitiful and like she was going to cry at any minute. I could tell that she was waiting to make eye contact and it kind of creeped me out. But I guess that's how you're supposed to look when you are the defendant.

She took the stand and explained that she had been drinking - but not enough to be drunk. The reason she did so poorly on the balance test and walking test was because she was in flip flops.

The next witness for the defense was an "expert", aka, a paid witness. He was a rumpled private investigator that had taken a "course" on how to determine the level of impairment after a person has been drinking. Without that pesky, usually-wrong breathalyzer thingy that the rest of the country uses.

He had a briefcase and stacks of papers that he waved in the air from time to time. It was during his testimony that the eye rolling and stifled laughs started.

Seriously, I think this paid witness hurt her case more than it helped.

In the end, The Cutest Attorney In the World made a statement along these lines:

"You know, my brother makes some pretty sound decisions in his life. Because of those decisions, he's able to buy some really nice things. One of those things is a brand new BMW. It's an amazing car with all the bells and whistles, the best German-made car you can buy. Well, one day, a light came on, telling my brother that that driver's side window was down. But he could tell (slaps his hand against the podium) that it was closed. Sometimes, equipment fails. It's just wrong. It doesn't tell the truth. And that's what happened that night last summer. The breathalyzer wasn't working properly and if you know that, you will have to find the defendant, not guilty."

Yeah, the prosecutor made sure we had copies of the maintenance papers on the breathalyzer, showing that it was in perfect working condition two weeks before and two weeks after. We also had the defendant's flip flops, just in case we wanted to try to walk in a straight line while wearing them. Not that hard.

It was over. All the questioning and objecting, the pleading looks from the defendant, and the Fall of the Cutest Attorney In the World. My crush was so over. Now he just irritated me.

We went back to our little room - finally we could talk about it. By now it was a little past 6 o'clock at night. The court gave us a menu from a pizza place and told us to order, but none of the other jurors wanted to order anything - they just wanted to be done. I should have spoken up, ordered a whole pizza and taken it home to my boys (who had been alone all day), but I didn't.

We talked for about 5 minutes, made sure that we all felt the same way, no question about it...GUILTY!!!

We filed into the courtroom one last time. It's true what they say about it being uncomfortable to look at the defendant when you are bringing a guilty verdict. So I didn't.

We said guilty, the court thanked us, and we left.

It was dark outside, snowing, and the wet streets were full of headlight glare. Just my kind of driving conditions. I made it home, tense and tired, and $18.50 in my pocket. I'd been gone for a little over 12 hours.

I learned a lot, it was interesting, and I was glad it was over in one day. I was also glad that it was so cut and dried, no question or doubt that the lady was drunk and had used poor judgement in getting behind the wheel. I was glad no one had been hurt.

Obviously, I have a hard time separating facts from how a person looks or acts and how they treat other people. I'm not good at this kind of thing. But I did my civic duty and I won't have to do it again for at least two years.

And if you've made it all the way to the end of this tale, I will forever call you The Most Awesome Readers In the World. You're my new crush.

Jury Duty, Part I

2008-02-05T07:45:00.000-08:00

After the drama of getting downtown for jury duty, I was relieved to have some time to just sit and let my heart get back to its normal rhythm. I had a good thirty minutes, so I settled into a bench in the courtroom, read my Reader's Digest, and waited to be sent home. The rest of the potential jurors eventually came in and we sat around not making eye contact. There were 30 of us. Coffee and Nutrigrain bars were on a table if we wanted.

Things got going a few minutes after 8:30: roll was taken and we got to watch a movie about not being upset if we weren't chosen for jury duty that day. Really. The movie was from 80's and the hairstyles and all the Sally Jesse Raphael glasses made it tolerable to watch if only for a chuckle.

After the movie, a baliff came in to watch over us. Unable to stand the quiet, he started telling jokes. Horrible, horrible jokes.

"What's the difference between out-laws and in-laws? Outlaws are wanted."

Ba dump bomp chhhhhh

"What lies on the bottom of the ocean and twitches? A nervous wreck."

Ba dump bomp chhhhhh

And the not quite politically correct,

"A guy marries a Chinese woman and for their honeymoon, she takes him to China to meet her family. He meets her Chinese parents, her Chinese brothers and sisters, and her Chinese grandparents. They don't like him and make them get a quickie Chinese divorce. Poor guy went home disoriented."

We all laughed uncomfortably - he had a gun.

Some lady came in and rescued us from the baliff's second act - we were sworn in and promised to answer truthfully all day long. We filled out some paperwork and then stood in line to receive our $18.50 for coming in. Next, we lined up in a specific order and made our way into another courtroom. Everyone was there - the judge, the prosecuting attorney (the state), a few police officers, the defense attorney and one very sad and remorseful looking woman (the defendant).

Time to pick the jury. The judge asked all these questions and we were supposed to answer by raising a hand. The two attorneys made notes of everyone's responses. If anyone raised their hand, they had to elaborate. It was like a public confession.

Judge: Do any of you belong to a religion that prohibits the use of alcohol? Do any of you drink? How much? Ever been impaired by your use of alcohol? Any family members drink? Who? Any alcoholism? Who? Have you ever seen a drunk person or spent any time with one? Any DUIs?

And on and on. Pretty sure it's a DUI case by this point. People were raising their hands, confessing everything about themselves, family and friends. Every once in a while the judge and the attorneys would take a person into a little room and ask more questions about their experience and knowledge of alcohol.

The judge had a final question: Is there anything about any of the people in the courtroom that might cause you to be unable to make a fair and impartial decision?

This was the question that made me pause.

It was the defense attorney. He wasn't just handsome, he was gorgeous - like a movie star. He had the highlighted hair, the perfect white teeth, the tan, the suit, and he kept smiling and making eye contact with everyone as he wrote his little notes. He was laid back and friendly, casual and charismatic, and he seemed to have the charm of Tom Cruise - before Tom got a little scary.

Since most of the questions didn't apply to me or anyone that I know, I spent a good part of this questioning time just gazing at him. Hmmmmm. Every time he looked at me, I was already looking at him and then he would smile his beautiful smile and I'd have to look away, embarassed.

So when the judge asked her question about making a fair and partial decision even though the Cutest Attorney In the World kept smiling at me, I wondered if I should raise my hand. I didn't, but only because I didn't want to have to go in the little room and admit to the judge that I had a crush on the defense attorney and would pretty much believe anything he told me.

Also, I had a tiny feeling that the Cutest Attorney In the World knows that he is the Cutest Attorney In the World. And that kind of ruined it. Almost.

So after all the questions and confessions, the judge and the two attorneys talked it over and came up with their four person jury. That's right, four people - out of thirty. And I was one of them. I should be playing the lottery.

We stood up and walked to the jury box. It was me, a grandma who worked for the Tablernacle Choir (this was two days after President Hinckley died - she coulda maybe gotten out of this), a 23 year old guy who was missing his classes at the community college and his wife's birthday, and an older woman with a gravelly-voice, bloodshot eyes, and possibly a hangover.

By now it was 11 am. The 26 who were not chosen were excused. They patted the $18.50 in their pockets as they walked out the doors and back to their lives. They didn't feel badly about not being chosen - the movie had helped, I'm sure.

I, on the other hand, was feeling something along the lines of
"You have GOT to be kidding me."

Jury duty.

For real.

This is what clean livin' will get you.

(To be continued...)

Movie Quote Monday

2008-02-04T07:45:00.000-08:00

Good morning!

Starting of with a short little quote from a movie that was HOT HOT HOT in the year I graduated from high school. In college, my roommate Valerie and I thought that a guy in our ward resembled the character from the movie and repeatedly said (behind his back of course):

"Hey Goose you big stud!"

Go.

Got Milk?

2008-02-01T07:40:00.000-08:00

Since the first of the year, I've been slowly reorganizing my house. It started with the food storage room and a few closets here and there. In the kitchen, I rearranged some cupboards, made the pots and pans easier to get to, cleaned out the pantry and all the drawers and generally gave everything a fresh start for the new year. It's a work in progress.

I threw out some old things that I just don't use, I moved the pyrex, the bowls and small plates, the bandaids and the medicine box. My family can't find anything, even though I've shown them all the new locations. Several times. I wasn't trying to make life harder - I was just getting things to run more smoothly, without unnecessary items crowding out the everyday stuff. I love having things uncluttered. Meals are easier to prepare and it feels like I can breathe in my kitchen again.

One thing I did that goes under the heading Brilliant, is to move the kids' cereal to a different spot. The boys love their cold cereal at all times of the day, and they were constantly asking me to get them a bowl - they couldn't reach it in the cabinet up above the stove. The bowls were out of reach as well. And sometimes, I just don't want to get up...Mom's tired, you know?

So I took all the kid cereals and all the cheap plastic bowls that they love and put them down on the bottom shelf in the pantry. It's perfect - they can reach them and can have their cereal any time they want. And I don't have to get off the couch.

It's all very organized and kid-friendly:

When I opened the pantry this morning, I found this:

I guess they are looking for ease of preparation too.

Sigh.

Movie Theme Thursday

2008-01-31T06:59:00.000-08:00

I still have lots to tell about my day of jury service, but I wanted to throw this game in here. I like to mix it up, keep people on their toes. I also couldn't resist the double "th" sound in the title. Can't get that if I put it up on a Friday.

Anyway...Movie Theme Thursday is just like Movie Quote Monday - except we use songs that were made famous by the movie. By famous, I mean highly recognizable and most likely heard on the radio.

I'll start out with a song title and possibly the artist. If you know the movie that it's from, leave it in your comment, along with a new movie song title/artist. And so on. Keep in mind that there may be more than one song that was made famous by the same movie. Start thinkin'...

Here goes:

(I've Had) The Time of My Life by Jennifer Warnes and Bill Medley

Go.

The Number One Reason I Love Troy

2008-01-30T12:10:00.000-08:00

Last month I received a jury summons, asking me to be available for this entire week. I registered online and held on to the little card with the phone number one it. I was supposed to call the night before to find out if I needed to appear, starting on Monday.

I wasn't worried. I'd been called to jury duty several times and never had to go in. Calling to check each night was mildly inconvenient - but that's all I had to do. Actually having to serve did not even occur to me. I went ahead and scheduled things all week - orthodontist appointments and swimming lessons for the boys, etc. I wouldn't have to go in, right?

I think the biggest reason I was in such denial was the location of the court. It's downtown. I do not drive downtown. Ever.

Really.

I used to - I worked close to downtown and drove on errands and generally made my way around the city, doing what needed to get done. It didn't seem like a big deal. So what changed?

Well, I got married to a guy who loves to drive. Troy can find any place in any city. He's comfortable on the roads and so for the last 19+ years, he's done all the driving whenever we are together. I've gotten used to relying on him. We also live in a suburb of the "big city", but that suburb has pretty much everything I need. I can go months without leaving my little corner of the map. I'm used to it here.

But it's not just that - not just that I've grown accustomed to not driving downtown. It seems there is an anxiety issue that has developed in recent years.

In my head or not, it was very very real and very very apparent after I called on Monday night and found out that I had to appear in court on Tuesday morning. I listened to the recorded message three times to make sure I'd heard it right. Apparently, people actually do have to show up.

As it sunk in that I would have to go downtown, my mood became tense and irritable. I had a stomachache. I was pacing and worrying about all the things I'd have to deal with in driving downtown. It was all I could think about - the driving...the driving! The actual possibility of being on a jury didn't phase me, the inconvenience of taking off work and leaving the boys, not a problem. It was the thought of driving out of my comfort zone and into the downtown area. It was making me physically ill.

If Troy was going to be home, he would simply drive me there and pick me up when I called. No question, he would do that. But he was leaving that day, so I wouldn't have a way to get home.

"Take Trax.", a few people suggested. That's a good idea, really, it's just that I've never been on Trax, and the thought of navigating that by myself just about put me over the edge of my anxiety attack cliff.

Troy went over his "best way to go" directions. Each instruction built up another worry.

It would be rush hour - I haven't dealt with that in over a decade.

The bad storm on Monday - roads could be icy.

If the roads are wet, the glare off headlights is horrible.

I've never been there before - what if I couldn't find it?

Troy started rattling off freeway and exit numbers and saying things like "Make sure you're in such and such lane or you'll miss it." I started feeling like I was going to throw up.

Finding a parking place.

Parallel parking. Starting to sweat.

And with the storm, what if the roads aren't cleared and there is no parallel parking and I have to navigate a...a...(gasp)...parking garage?

What if I make a turn onto what I think is a road and all of a sudden it becomes a freeway that I can't get off of and then I'm late ? I started to shake.

What if...what if...what if...

And that's how I ended up in the fetal position, crying, on a Monday night.

Hey, for some people it's flying or public speaking.

Here's where Troy saved the day and my sanity: He got up hours before he needed to - being late was not an option and he didn't even question why I wanted to leave an hour and a half early - and drove alongside me to the courthouse. He led the way, a knight in his pickup truck, and I followed in the Explorer.

He did take the freeway route however, and I called him on the cell to whine.

"I'm in hell," I said, tensing up over the high speed and the snow and ice and all the other racing cars. "Just to let you know."

"I know. You're doing fine."

"H-E-Double toothpicks, Babe. Did we have to take the freeway?"

"It's rush hour - I'm getting you there on time. Stay in this lane."

"I hate this."

"You're doing fine."

And then we took an exit, made a turn or two, and lo and behold, we were there. He found me a metered parking spot, half a block from the courthouse. I turned off the engine and a wave of relief washed over me. I had made it.

Troy waited while I ran inside to get a parking permit to put on the dashboard. I hugged and thanked him for the millionth time. I was shaking, but it wasn't from the cold - the relief was followed by an adrenaline rush, and I couldn't stay still. I was giggling and shaking and trying to do some deep breathing to calm down. He hugged me tighter.

We said goodbye. Troy turned his truck around and headed back home. He got a few more hours of sleep before he had to drive to San Francisco. He shrugs it off, but really, that's the nicest thing he ever could have done for me.

Thanks, Troy. I wouldn't have made it without you. You are the best husband!!! Thank you for putting up with me.

I walked back through the snow to the courthouse. Jury duty, here I come.

I was 30 minutes early.

Sweet.

Honey...I'm Home

2008-01-29T05:21:00.000-08:00

We got home from my parent's house last night, and only a few minutes after walking in the door, the phone rang. It was Cameron's friend, calling to tell him that President Hinckley had died. (I thought that was a very mature and thoughtful thing for an 11 year old boy to do)

That was the first of several calls we received and made last night.

"Did you hear...?"

"I just saw on the news..."

"Just wanted to make sure you knew..."

Aaron, ever my sensitive boy, got a little panicky and needed some hugs and reassurance about things in general. He wanted to pray, so we did that and then went downstairs to watch a little of the "breaking news" reports. Aaron caught the phrase that President Hinckley had died "about an hour and a half ago" and began using it in his own conversations.

"Mom, up until about an hour and a half ago, President Hinckley was the only prophet in my life, huh?"

One station was showing a documentary about President Hinckley's life and we watched part of it together. We brought out an Ensign with the pictures of the First Presidency and the General Authorities and talked about change. We read his last talk from Conference.

You know how if you read a quote by President Hinckley, you can hear his voice, with all the inflections and tone right there in your mind. I love that. I will miss his voice, his humor and wit, hearing his testimony and the powerful messages that he wove around gentle stories of his life and his love for our Savior. I will miss him.

I didn't shed a tear though, until I started thinking about the reunions going on up in Heaven, and then I can't hold back. Can you imagine?

I have an unwavering testimony of eternal families and relationships, and that death is not an end, but a beginning. I'm so happy for President Hinckley!

He's with his wife again. He doesn't need his cane. He's able to talk to all the past prophets and friends that he's served with. He is with the Savior. The thought that won't leave my mind is that he's meeting Joseph Smith. They have lots to talk about.

Mostly, I imagine that Sister Hinckley is holding on tight to his arm and just about bursting with happiness. Finally, he's home!

She tugs him away from all the happy greeters.

See you later...we've got some catching up to do.

Movie Quote Monday

2008-01-28T07:20:00.000-08:00

Good morning!

I'm starting things off with a movie quote that is sung. Can you name the movie and the character?

"I want the world. I want the whole world. I want to lock it all up in my pocket. It's my bar of chocolate. Give it to me now. "

Go.

Come and Play!

2008-01-27T14:20:00.000-08:00

So glad you all liked the German Pancakes! My family would eat those things for any meal of the day.

Come back tomorrow and play Movie Quote Monday.
See you there!

A Buttery Breakfast

2008-01-24T13:34:00.000-08:00

With the new year, we switched from the slightly-too-early 9 am church schedule to the perfect 11 am block.

When church starts at 9, the boys are lucky if they have a minute to eat a bowl of cereal. Sometimes they polish off a Pop Tart as we drive the two blocks to the meeting house. There's not even time for toast.

But with church starting at 11, there is time for a nice breakfast. Something hot and delicious that makes the day feel a little bit special.

For the last few weeks, the boys have been requesting German Pancakes.

I was introduced to these as a teenager by my friend Valerie. Well, it was actually her Mother, Yvonne. She's the one that made them for us on Saturday mornings after a sleepover.

She called them Hootenannies - which was fun to say, and it made them even more yummy. I'd never seen anything like it. She baked them in a pie pan and when they came out of the oven, the edges had puffed up high and crispy and curled inward in an astounding way. Yvonne, never one to skimp on the use of butter, spread some on the inside and sprinkled powdered sugar over the entire thing.

It was the butter part that I found so unusual. At my house, the butter was for my Dad and my Dad only. The rest of us used margarine or Shedd's Spread. I don't remember wanting the butter or feeling like the margarine was second best. Mom just explained that my Dad grew up on butter and so it was what he liked as an adult. There was a slight implication that we would not like butter, and that pretty much kept us from ever trying it out.

Here at Valerie's house though, it was butter all the way. Butter for everyone! Butter on the table, butter on your toast, eggs cooked in butter, and most definitely, butter on the Hootenannies.

When Yvonne spread the butter (dare I say, slathered) on the hot Hootenanny, it melted into golden pools that absorbed the liberal dusting of powdered sugar. It made a sweet, buttery topping that was perfect for the mild pancake.

I loved those Hootenanny mornings. Thank you, Yvonne!

My boys love them too.

Wanna see?

Check out the edges, all puffy and curled up. Kids love this. Okay, so do I.

This is right out of the oven. My camera kept fogging up.

Let's add the powdered sugar.

Mmmmmmmmmm.....

Oooooooooooo........

Cameron requests half of one on his plate.

He likes the Cut...

-n- Shovel method of eating.

Aaron likes his cut up so he can eat it like pizza. I use scissors for this.

Chomp!

Let's get another shot of that melty, buttery, mouth-watering deliciousness.

Seriously, how could you not love this?

So what do my boys think about as they sit at the counter in their underwear (see note below), devouring this tasty Sunday morning breakfast?

Aaron? He's easy.

He's thinking, "I'm the luckiest kid in the world to have a Mom that makes this for breakfast."

Cameron's thinking: "I wonder what it would be like to have a Mom that didn't

take pictures of me while I'm eating?"

***Note*** I do suggest eating these in your underwear - or at least before you get dressed in your "good clothes". You know...powdered sugar and all.

I also suggest you make some this weekend.

***************************************************

German Pancakes...aka Hootenannies

6 eggs

1 cup milk

1 cup flour

a few dashes of salt

4 Tb. butter or margarine (yes, margarine will work too)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Put 2 Tb. butter in each of two pie pans; melt as the oven heats up. In a bowl, combine the eggs, milk, flour, and salt. Beat until fluffy (use electric beaters) and smooth. Pour half of the batter in each pan. Bake for 20 minutes. Pancakes will puff up in an amazing and delightful way. Serve with more butter and powdered sugar.

*********************************************

Favorite Way to Clean? The Mouse.

2008-01-23T07:08:00.000-08:00

Bit by bit, I'm learning how to use a few photo editing tools.

I use a little finger icon to smudge out identifying information:

I can lighten and brighten and crop Troy's big ol' foot out of this shot:

See...much better.

I removed an unsightly blemish from the tip of my lip and even calmed a little of the rosacea redness from my cheeks for my new blog photo.

Yeah, it's subtle, but I can tell. I really can. I just wish I'd used the clone tool and placed teeth over my chewing gum.

But the best editing I've done is on this one:

Look at that baseboard.

And now look at the baseboard.

It's not perfect, but it no longer looks dirty, chipped, scratched and like it has a 5 year old paint job. It no longer distracts from the puppy.

So I'm all excited about what I've taught myself on Photo Impression 6. I had Troy sit down at the computer and I showed him how I cleaned up the baseboard.

"See, I make the brush this big, then I find an area with the same color that I want to have over the dirty spot. Then I press shift and click the mouse and then I click the mouse over every spot that I don't like. See how it changes it? I did it on the walls too. See how clean it looks? How awesome it that?"

"You know," Troy said tentatively, choosing his words carefully, "you could just clean the wall and the baseboard. But this is really cool too. You're pretty smart."

I think he just threw in that last part to save himself.

What do you think?

Scrub down the walls and baseboards...or keep using the Photo Impression 6 Quick Edit Tools?

The Growing Puppy

2008-01-22T07:12:00.000-08:00

We've had him almost 4 weeks and as you can see, he's growing fast. He's almost too big to tote around like this but we still do.

The sweater that he's wearing in the top picture no longer fits. That was money well spent.

He's a cuddler and if we hold him up high, close to our necks, he puts his paws on our shoulders and it looks like he's hugging us. We hug him back.

He still loves his puffy little bed...

Only now he has to throw out an arm to fit.

Or his whole head.

He enjoys his food and waits patiently (sometimes),

and he's a trooper to go out in all this snow. Housebroken--hooray!!!

I don't care how big he gets. I will still cover him up

and take pictures while he's sleeping.

And occasionally sing to him.

It's a full-blown case of puppy love.

Movie Quote Monday Is Back!!!

2008-01-21T07:04:00.000-08:00

I've been missing it too - just had to bring it back.

Rules refresher: If you know the name of the movie that the quote comes from, put it in your comment. Feel free to name the actor or any other bit of trivia or memory from the movie. Along with your answer, throw out a new movie quote for someone else to guess. Keep it clean - using asterisks is appreciated. If we're stumped, we may ask for a hint. This is open to everyone - join in the fun!

I liked this quote because it gives a nod to the return of Movie Quote Monday.

"Punjab, buy out the 8:00 show. Let's all go to the movies."

Go.

If You Buy the Popcorn, I'll Get the Drinks

2008-01-20T06:30:00.000-08:00

I don't know...something's been missing lately.

People have asked about it.

Some have even requested it.

I've been thinking...

What should we do tomorrow?

Notes of Note. A Post in Two Parts

2008-01-18T13:38:00.000-08:00

Part I:
The Note From School, or,
Loosening My Bra As My Heart Swells With Pride

First of all, thank you for all your kind words of support and encouragement about Cam's science fair project. He took it to school yesterday and sat by it for an hour or two, answering questions from the judges and visiting parents. He was proud of his project and did a good job all around.

Today he brought this note home:

And this:
Pretty cool. Cameron was worried that he'd have to do another whole project. I assured him that if that was the case, he would politely decline the invitation. There is a bunch of paperwork to fill out though - almost a mini written report. And if he goes on to the state fair, we have to pay an entrance fee. For now, I think we'll just relax and enjoy being off track.

*******************************************************

Part II:
The Note That Came Out of the Dryer, or

If It's Love, Why Does It Hurt So Much?

Okay, I might be crossing a line. Sure I can post the pictures of Troy getting his eyebrows waxed, and me getting my colonoscopy, but this is almost too personal.

Last night, after I had tucked the boys in bed, I went to change the laundry over to the dryer. I pulled the dry clothes out and a tightly folded, still slightly damp note fell onto the floor.

You all told me about what you've pulled out of the dryer - the ipods, the gum, the dead hamster and the poop. But a note? You read it, right?

I did.

It was fragile from its trip through the washer and dryer but I carefully unfolded it and read the pencil writing.

Cam had written it, but never delivered it. It said:

"To Aspen, I like you. (smiley face)...But you like Will. Abby told me you hate me and never want to talk to me again. (frowny face)

I raced downstairs to show the note to Troy. He was as shocked as I was. There was romantic drama going on? We never knew. And what a love triangle it seems to be - Cam, Aspen, Will, and Abby - though so far, Abby is only the passer of information. Who is this Aspen girl...and why is she breaking my son's heart?

I went to ask Cam about it. He denied knowing what I was talking about, but that might have been because I woke him up. I asked him who everyone was and he tried to tell me what had happened. Even through his explanation I could tell that he wasn't even sure what was going on.

"Are you sad?" I was prepared to grieve with him.

"Not really."

"But you drew a frowny face! That means you're sad!"

"Then I guess I was."

"Why didn't you deliver it?" Hand me a bigger spoon, I'm stirring it up really good now.

"I changed my mind."

"Okay sweetheart. Probably better that way. Do you want to talk about it? Do you need a hug?"

"Mom, I'd kinda forgotten all about it."

"Oh...okay...but if you need a shoulder..."

"Goodnight!"

********************************************************

Two very different notes, but they both amaze me.

I just have to ask...

Did you ever pass notes in school?

I Think I Heard Some Angels Singing

2008-01-15T07:52:00.000-08:00

It's a wrap.

We are finished.

Done.

Completed.

Depleted.

Spent.

Exhausted...

and oh, so Happily Satisfied.

The science project is ready to turn in. The 13 page report is tucked into a nice, white cover; the display is standing up on the kitchen table - I can't take my eyes off of it.

I'm just a little bit proud of it.

I love stuff like this - choosing the fonts, laying out copy, lining things up, making everything nice and symmetrical.

I even let Cameron help a little bit with taping things into place.

I'm kidding.

Sort of.

Let's just say the display part of the science fair project has been a joint effort.

He did the report part with only a little supervision from me, but I just couldn't keep my hands off the display. I LOVE this kind of thing!

Cameron and I present :

Check it out. Click to enlarge this bad boy.

Do you like the arrows? I love the arrows. We had to display the Scientific Method so that it was well organized and easy to follow from one idea to the next. Nothing does that like an arrow.

A few pictures, a snazzy title, the Jester font (Cameron chose this), and even a couple graphs. Self-taught on Microsoft Works Spreadsheet, I am. Lots and lots of tape and some construction paper for a punch of color.

Cam is happy.

I am happy, multiplied by ecstatic, divided by tired, and rounded up to tickled pink with the entire thing.

It's DONE. Cue the Angel Chorus.

Hallelujah and Amen.

Do you think I could sell it on ebay?

Tag! I'm It.

2008-01-14T07:50:00.000-08:00

I have been tagged - the first time ever. It's that thing where you reveal a few little-known things about yourself and then "tag" someone who reads your blog, then they have to go and do the same thing on their own blog. Sort of a modern day chain letter. If you ignore the tag, I think your blog deletes itself or something.

My first thought about revealing facts about myself was that I've already shared most everything. I've written about my feet, my colon, my love for 80's music and Zac Efron, the way our gerbils die and how I love to watch Troy get his eyebrows waxed. I am an open book.

And then I actually thought of a few more.

As always though, there's a little backstory to explore first.

I started reading some blogs belonging to some friends of mine maybe a year and half ago. There was my childhood friend wahwee, and her husband loudboy, the older sister sugarbritches, just to name a few. All of a sudden I was immersed in their lives and knowing things about them and their extended family members - it was the ultimate fly-on-the-wall experience.

I was a lurker - didn't even have my own account and I couldn't leave comments, but I was addicted to reading everything they wrote. I started clicking around, found Cheeky Lotus (who has retired), Pioneer Woman, and many other blogs that I checked on daily. Finally I started Dishes and Laundry last July and that was it for me.

"Hi I'm Wendy...and I'm a blogaholic."

"Hi Wendy."

More family and friends have started blogs and it honestly has become one of the things I enjoy most, every single day. The writing is a creative and therapeutic outlet for me, my family likes reading about themselves (I think), and I get a lot of satisfaction from hitting publish. I love your comments and the friendships I've made through all of this.

So check out those links - do Loudboy first. He tagged the other two, and then Wahwee tagged me. Then come back here and read all six new and ~~exciting~~ ~~interesting~~ ~~provacative~~ ~~astonishing~~ time killing facts about me.

Here goes:

#1. I was named after Wendy in Peter Pan. My biological Dad was an actor and when I was born he was starring as Captain Hook in a local production. I've always liked my name - and it was far better than Tiger Lily or Tinkerbell, the only other girl names in the play. I like that the play has a song for me, titled, Wendy. I like that the Beach Boys have a song titled, Wendy, and I like that The Association has a song titled Windy. They spelled my name wrong but I don't care. What kid doesn't enjoy hearing their name on the radio?

Who's peekin' out from under a stairway

Calling a name that's lighter than air

Who's bending down to give me a rainbow

Everyone knows it's Windy

Who's tripping down the streets of the city

Smilin' at everybody she sees

Who's reachin' out to capture a moment

Everyone knows it's Windy

And Windy has stormy eyes

That flash at the sound of lies

And Windy has wings to fly

Above the clouds (above the clouds)

------ flute ------

Who's tripping down the streets of the city

Smilin' at everybody she sees

Who's reachin' out to capture a moment

Everyone knows it's Windy

[repeat and fade]

#2. When I was very young, my babysitter was Joyce DeWitt. You know her as Janet from Three's Company. Of course that was back when she was a teenager (actor Dad was also her high school drama teacher) and wasn't using such a heavy hand with the eyeliner. 'Cause, whoa.

She's the only "famous" person I've ever known, and she probably changed my diaper.

#3. When I was a young teenager, my favorite tv show was M*A*S*H*. I LOVED this show. For Christmas one year, I got a book all about the show. It had the history of the show, cast biographies, episode summaries, pictures and more pictures. I read this book cover to cover, quoting it, putting little checks by the episodes as I watched them in reruns. I could name the titles of each episode and recite trivia about all the stars. I still have this book - it's held together with packaging tape. When the show ended in 1983, I taped the final episode, Goodbye, Farewell and Amen, and watched a little bit of it every morning as I got ready for school. This went on for months. I cried and cried every time that helicopter lifted off the ground with Hawkeye inside and he could see GOODBYE spelled out in rocks.

I bet I haven't watched an episode in 20 years.

#4. I love having my feet rubbed. Any time, any place, any where. I would let a stranger rub my feet. Troy rubs my feet during Sacrament Meeting, reaching down and kneading, tickling, massaging. Cameron does it best though. He watches tv with me and sits with my feet in his lap and goes to work. His technique is superb and I hope he never gets tired of rubbing his Mama's feet.

#5. I am not a very good driver and I'm directionally challenged. I can get lost driving to places that I'm familiar with. Every time I drive to my Grandma's house (same house she's lived in forever) I have to ask Troy "Now how do I get there?". I am always missing exits and turnoffs, driving miles out of my way. I hate making left hand turns, changing lanes, and we won't even talk about driving at night. I don't drive downtown. Downtown to me is anything north of 21st South.

One time I went to a viewing in Lehi. I arrived (with the help of mapquest) in the daylight, but by the time I left it was dark. I couldn't see the mountains and didn't know which way to go to get back on the freeway (which I also hate driving on). I was completely and utterly lost. I drove around aimlessly until I found someone who drove like they knew where they were going and followed them. Somehow I made it home.

Knocking on wood here, but surprisingly, I've never been in an accident (other than when I was a passenger).

Troy tells me about some of the places he drives and the conditions he drives in and I get all panicky just hearing about it.

I love it when Troy is home and he offers to drive me around on my errands. He drops me off, waits in the car and then takes me to the next place. He rarely complains. This is why I love him. That and the foot rubbing thing.

#6. I can't sleep if I'm touching someone. Troy and I have these pillow barricades on our bed and it's a king size bed. There never has been, nor will there ever be, falling asleep in each other's arms. Cuddling is great, but when it's time to sleep, the pillows come out. We're so far apart, I don't think we could touch each other without stretching for it.

And that's it. Six little facts about me.

Don't I sound fun? Don't get in a car with me and someday I might ask you to rub my feet.

I tag my sister-in-law Elise and happyleila.

P.S. You have got to go read Elise's story about her shark.

Important Scientific Findings From My Kitchen

2008-01-10T15:58:00.000-08:00

No, no, Science has not discovered that an unmopped floor leads to better overall health, or that a less than sparkling oven produces tastier food, though I am convinced of both and will gladly offer my kitchen towards any experiments that could prove it.

What has been found, scientifically speaking, is that 5th Grade Science Fair Projects are a lot of work!

Cameron chose to experiment with microwave popcorn and how different storage temperatures will affect the final product. Apparently, each kernel of popcorn contains a small amount of water in the center - when that water is heated, it produces steam and pressure, and that's what makes it explode. The water content has to be around 14% - even a tiny percentage difference and you'll get poor quality popcorn. We tried to mess with the water content.

We've been keeping:

Popcorn packets in the freezer - predicting that the drop of water inside the kernel will freeze, expand, and crack the shell, making the kernels unpoppable. Also something about the cold keeping it from heating quickly enough in the exact popping time.

Popcorn packets in the fridge - predicting that the percentage of water inside the kernel would be altered by the low humidity and produce less fluffy popcorn, and again with the cold keeping it from heating enough.

Popcorn packets on the counter - predicting that this would be the perfect spot to store popcorn.
We did a test run, timing an extra bag on how long it took for it to pop perfectly, and then we used that time for all the bags. We are nothing if not scientific.

Cam popped the freezer bags first. We seriously thought it wouldn't even work, that we'd have to cut open the bag to reveal oily, sad, cracked kernels, ruined by their 30+ hours in the freezer. What a great picture that would make for the display board.

Guess what? It popped just fine. Tasted fine too.

We tried the refrigerator samples next, hoping at least for some decreased volume. Those popped up fine as well.

When Cameron popped the counter samples, I was ready to be blown away. For sure these packets would pop up with double the volume, twice the flavor, no old maids, anything.

Amaze me, cool science experiment, amaze me!!!

Nope.

It was pretty much all the same. I would have served any of the popcorn to company.

We measured every batch, counted every unpopped kernel, and did a good handful-size taste test. Any differences were negligible. Seriously.

I think the freezer samples produced 50 or so unpopped kernels and 2 quarts of popcorn, the fridge samples had around thirty unpopped kernels and the same volume, and the counter samples had 20 unpopped kernels and made 2 quarts plus 1 1/2 cups of popcorn.

Big deal.

However, for the sake of the Science Fair, we are making a very big deal about that extra cup and a half of popcorn and how few old maids were left when we wisely stored our popcorn at room temperature.

We're also gonna poke around a little bit more and see if we can prove that the counter samples produced bigger popped kernels.

Please, let them have produced bigger popped kernels. I want to show something significant from this little experiment.

Perhaps I should contact the Pop Weaver Popcorn Company and suggest their new advertising campaign: You can store this stuff anywhere - it'll still pop!

So that was the fun, fast part of the project. Now Cameron has to write up everything, including: a purpose page, research pages, hypothesis page, materials page, procedural page, variables page, data pages, analysis page, and a conclusion page.

He's in fifth grade, remember?

Then there's the display board that needs to be colorful, creative, and charismatic though it cannot contain any actual popcorn. Shoot - we were gonna glue a nice popcorn border around the edges.

It's all due next Thursday.

We're just hoping to be done flossing by then.

Happy Birthday Cameron!

2008-01-08T18:20:00.000-08:00

I'm a few days late on this, but on his actual birthday, we were doing, well, birthday stuff.

Cameron turned eleven last Saturday. Eleven...eleven!

We had a really fun day - Troy was home and we spent the whole day together. As usual, I tried to show my love through food, waking Cameron up to German pancakes. My side of the family was coming over for dinner and Cameron had requested a dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce (no onions or mushrooms) and garlic bread (with no cheese), and key lime pie for dessert. I spent a good part of the day preparing the meal and doing some cleaning, and generally hugging him whenever he walked by.

Cameron got everything he wished for, including the funds (thanks Grandma and Grandpa and Great-Grandma) to purchase a computer game he wanted. While Troy did the shopping, installing of the game and cleanup from the party, I snuck away to go see the movie Juno with a friend.

I had wanted to write about the emotions that this movie stirred up inside me and how it all related to Cameron's birthday, his amazing adoption and my feelings about his birthmom. But when I start to write, the words don't seem adequate. My language just isn't enough to explain everything about my boy, his birthmom, and her gift that made me a mother.

He is my heart.
She is too.

I don't want to be tearful and emotional as I write to celebrate Cameron's birthday. I want to be funny and joyous over this sweet kid that I absolutely adore. I want to tell you about all his remarkable qualities and characteristics, and how he makes me laugh, his easy-going attitude and everything I love about him.

The other stuff, the fact that the happiest day of my life was his birthmom's hardest day, is just too emotional for words - even eleven years later. Maybe I can write about it someday. Maybe not.

So today I'm just going to share a few pix. That's the beauty of blogging - you don't have to wait for someone to ask to see a picture of your kids - you can just throw 'em out there.

I don't have any pictures of Cameron on his actual birthday.
Our story starts on his Gotcha Day. He was one day old.

This was taken just moments after Cameron was laid in my arms. Don't look at my hair - just don't even look at it. (Seriously, what the heck???) Instead, look at that beautiful, perfect baby boy. Red lips, slicked hair, tiny curled up little body, wrapped in a blanket made by his birthmom's sister.

He was my dream come true.

Back at home, we spent the rest of the day receiving visitors and talking on the phone.

"He's here...he's ours..."

There was a brief period in Cameron's life when he had a little body fat.

That was then...

This is now...

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures of Cameron. The hair...those lips...

That was then...

This is now...

Oh, those lips!

That was then...

This is now...

I guess some things don't change.

Happy Birthday, Cameron!!

I love you. You make me happy every single day.

I'm so grateful that you are mine and I am yours.

Come and gimme a hug.

Resolution Update and a Very Cool Thing

2008-01-07T08:24:00.000-08:00

The nightly scripture reading is going well - really well. Cameron, the doubter that we would even do it, has sort of taken charge and divides up the number of verses that we are each going to read each night. It's not perfect - Oliver plays on the floor and whoever isn't reading tends to watch the puppy antics instead of paying attention, myself included. But we are doing it.

A friend suggested that I get the scriptures on cd and then listen to it while everyone follows along in their own book. I want to try that. Cameron is a whiz at reading, but the comprehension can be difficult. I think it would be easier to pay attention to the story if he weren't concentrating on reading it aloud.

I really wanted to try doing this with the actual scriptures instead of the easier books - but we may go back to those if it seems that we are just reading words and not getting much out of it. Cameron did say that he missed the pictures of people getting stabbed.

I'm still committed to doing this, the boys are willing and ~~eager~~ they haven't complained, so I'm pretty happy. I want to get a chart that we can mark off the chapters that we've read - keep us motivated.

The one time I had any resistance to reading came last Friday night - and it was from Troy! Come on! He and Cameron were on the computer and Aaron and I were watching tv when 9pm rolled around. I announced that it was time for scriptures. Cameron started to close up his game, Aaron turned the tv off, and Troy said,

"But I thought you were only going to do it Monday - Thursday. That's what you said on your blog."

Well, I guess I did write that. Silly me.

The eyes have a unique capability - they can say so much just by an intense stare and the occasional raising of a brow. That night, my eyes explained to Troy that even though I did write that we were probably going to read just 4-5 days a week, it did not mean that we couldn't read an extra night - particularly on the rare occasion that he was home. My eyes also threw in a comment about wanting him to be a part of this and appreciating his support.

Troy understands my eyes and we got to read scriptures as a family that night.

One day at a time.

******************************************************

On a side note, Raimee suggested the website http://www.readthescriptures.com/ for a daily email with the scriptures of your choice. This Is. Cool.

After two other friends told me that they had joined (it's free!) and would be reaping the blessings, I checked it out and joined for myself.

The site offers the Old and New Testaments, the Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price. It also has a seminary schedule and a gospel doctrine section. You can choose to receive a chapter a day or you can customize it to get any number of verses. You can make notes, highlight passages, keep a journal, and with a click of a button, they'll send you another chapter. It keeps track of your progress with a little percentage bar and lets you know if you fall behind - though it won't send a new email until you click the "completed" button on the current one. That way, you won't have a buildup of emails if you miss a few days. It sends a little motivational/feel good quote after you're done reading. You can also click on audio and just listen to your scriptures. I may do that with the boys - gather around the computer for scripture reading.

It's scripture reading gone high tech.

I recommend checking it out. Thanks Raimee!

What other parts of your life do you take care of on the computer? Will scripture reading be one?

One Last Quote

2008-01-06T16:38:00.001-08:00

Well, I was getting ready for another rousing game of Movie Quote Monday -- and I came up blank. I think I've used up all the movies in my brain - and even checking around through movie quotes online, I kept thinking that we'd already used that one. And that one. And even that one.

So I think I'm going to shelve MQM for now - at least until I get some more movies under my belt. I've been playing around with a music lyric game - but I'm still trying to figure out how to do it on the blog. Maybe later I'll introduce something like that.

A great big thank you to everyone that's played over the last three months - it's been a blast. If I could have you all over for a movie night, I would. I make a great bag of microwave popcorn.

If Movie Quote Monday could talk, this is what it would say:

"Oh, you're the best friends anybody ever had. And it's funny, but I feel as if I'd known you all the time, but I couldn't have, could I?"

One last time...who said it?

It Puts The Lotion On It's Skin

2008-01-04T13:17:00.000-08:00

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A Winter Haiku

raw angry roughness
desert dry with bleeding cracks
thirsty winter hands

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Currently rubbing in:
Bath and Body Works, freshwater cucumber.
I smell like a salad.

Do you Haiku?
(I hope you do!)

Scripture Stories, the Resolution, and Doubt

2008-01-03T11:50:00.000-08:00

2007. Little bench in the hallway where our scriptures sat from 12:05 pm every Sunday until the following Sunday at 8:55 am, when we snatched them up on our way to church. Handy...they were never misplaced.

Are you still reading after my scripture study confession yesterday? In the hope of redeeming myself, I have to explain that it hasn't always been this way. I have done better.

In 2006 in fact, the boys and I read the scriptures almost every night, finishing the Book of Mormon that year. Okay, okay...it wasn't the actual Book of Mormon. It was this:

This is an awesome book - it takes all the exciting stuff from several chapters and groups it together and retells it in a language that my boys can understand. And that Moms can understand.

There are a few gory pictures, couple of people being burned, stabbed, or otherwise destroyed and humbled. This was my favorite picture.

The year before that we were reading this version - even simpler.

Just a sentence or two to go with each picture.

So I have done better in the past, mainly reading with the boys. We really fell out of the habit last year though. And with Troy gone most nights, it's all up to me, yadda yadda yadda. Sometimes it would be ten o'clock when I was tucking the boys into bed and I just didn't have it in me. Blah blah blah.

I need to do better. I can do better. I will do better.

This year, with renewed ambition and resolve, I'm bringing out the big guns. Large print edition.

No pictures, just words.

Hold me.

A few days ago, I mentioned to Cameron that after the first of the year we'd be reading our scriptures every night (and by every night, I probably mean Monday - Thursday), and trying to hold Family Home Evening more often. It was something we really needed to be doing...it was my New Year's Resolution

He chuckled. It had to be a chuckle - he wouldn't have laughed at me, would he?

"We probably won't do that."

"What? Why not?"

"Just 'cause."

And with that, I accepted his challenge.

We started last night.