Wednesday, December 31, 2008
1. I have officially lost it. Unfortunately, I don't know what it is, and if I ever really had it.
2. Don't 2 syllables sound much more commanding than single syllables...try it, you know you want to...Guh-nat, Kuh-nock
3. Why is the alphabet limited to only 26 letters?
4. And why is Y the only letter that can be a consonent and a vowel...don't you think Y is lonely?
5. Now, I'm sure, I never had it...therefore I do not need to worry about having lost it.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
1. Ummmm, they are called random thoughts for a reason.
2. I think perhaps, I have spent too much time watching Boomerang.
3. Is it possible to get more random? (Starting to have doubt)
4. (Sigh) I think my brain might be tired. (Sigh)
5. Although, having Wondertwin powers to activate, would be pretty dang cool.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Fortunately for me, they moved ten feet to the right, so the all important cinnamon bears were now accessible. As I began to gently gather my necessary source of nutrition, I was COMPLETELY grossed out by one of the aforementioned unruly crowd as he walked around the bulk food items, reaching in and making his own snack time...YUCK. So I finished my business at the bulk food section, and moved to the Caffeine Free Diet Coke section. Loaded up and moved out...I had to get the medication for the people who REALLY had issues. Got it and headed out.
As I was in line, the very loud and seemingly becoming more unruly group continued to have a love-fest in bulk foods. By the time I reached the cashier, I leaned over and said, "I don't know if anyone cares, but that group over there is having snack time in the bulk food section. And number one, EW GROSS and number two, that makes my grocery bill go up to pay for the snackage."
And you know, I was amazed. There were two managers over there in like 30 seconds. YAY. The cashier, looked at me and said, "Thank you so much. I am a germaphobe, I don't even open doors without a handkerchief. Now I can't ever eat from the bulk food section. But thank you for letting us know." At that point he tried to give me handfuls of the candy they keep for the kids.
1. Crime doesn't pay.
2. I am SO a policemans daughter.
3. Don't stick your hand in the bulk food bin unless you have on gloves or the candy is wrapped. DUH.
4. At least I know where Savannah gets her talent from.
5. Since I can't be mother of the year, I guess I will settle for protecting the every day consumer from dorks. (I am going to have a T-shirt made)
This thread begins where our adventure at the Body Worlds Exhibit ends on Saturday night. We went to dinner, enjoyed it and came home...too pooped to pop. Felix, Savannah and I headed upstairs to try and finish up the 24 CD we are on (we would really like to be caught up before 24 starts up again). After we made it through one episode, Caleb comes upstairs and says Baylee is hurt and needs our help. We tell him to go down and tell the drama queen to come upstairs herself.
We had so much fun with this little exchange, we opted for the repeat option and did about 5 more times. Word for word, action for action, huffy breath for huffy breath. Finally, Felix and I decided that since Savannah was younger and in such better health she had to go down and check on Baylee (and it is part of their 12 step program, to admit they have a problem with one another and have to work on being nice). After a few minutes, we start to hear, bump...bump...bump...bump...bump...and really, either someone had really severe gastrointestinal distress or someone was dragging something up the steps.
Then we see Savannah drag Baylee up the 4 steps to our room. She wasn't crying, she didn't even say she hurt anywhere. I looked at her, told her to get up. She said she couldn't because she couldn't feel her legs...And the Oscar goes to... Finally, after she lays immobile on the floor for about 5 minutes I go over to check on her. Other than having really stiff legs, I couldn't find anything wrong, except maybe that her feet weren't reacting to touch at all. She did however start screaming every time I brushed by her legs. I finally ask what happened and find out she was sitting in her saucer chair, which Caleb pushed over. She fell, but she said that it didn't hurt, but when she tried to stand up she couldn't because she couldn't feel her legs. I decided we were have a melodrama infused night, and gave her some Tylenol and put her in her brothers bed. Eventually Savannah went to bed in there and so did Caleb. I guess misery loves company.
So we get up on Sunday morning with the usual crazy that it included in trying to get a family of 6 out the door and to church on time at 9 am (I can't wait for the 11 o'clock time to roll around). Felix has to take the boys and Savannah and I have to get Baylee dressed, medicated and carried to the car. Because for some reason, I still thought we had some drama going on (look boys and girls...there really is a reason why I am NOT mother of the year). So we make it to the church and through the passing of the sacrament when Baylee starts moaning, and getting more and more pale. We decided it was time.
I picked her up and got to AF Hospital as quickly as I could. Fortunately, there was hardly any one there. They got us a wheelchair and right back to a room. They did all of the necessary stuff, and then we waited for the ER doc. Once he came in, I gave him a rundown of her history (which took a few minutes, thanks to the never ending excitement her health adds to our lives), and explained, I was relatively sure it was not realted to her arthritis, Sever' Disease, or any of the other fun things. I believe it was trauma related. The doctor checked the sensitivity of her feet, her left foot was still non-reactive, but her right foot was...YAY-Progress.
So we went and did a whole battery of x-rays. And then we waited...looking back, along with plumbing, I have done a heck of a lot of waiting in the past year, hmmm, is it me?
After a couple of hours, the ER doc comes in and says, the Xrays are fine. It's probably arthritis, here's some Lortab, go home and call her rheumatologist tomorrow. Seriously? SERIOUSLY. So basically this guy was sending home a child who, for an unknown reason, simply couldn't walk...and I was supposed to be okay with this. I explained again that I believed it was trauma related, not arthritis related. The sudden onset should have been his first clue...ya think? But I guess, unknown to me, it was turn away a child day at the hospital. I HATE it when I don't get the memo.
So I took the drugs, took the kid and my horrible attitude and went home. My parents left their meetings early so my father could help administer a blessing. It was a much needed source of peace.
We made it through the course of the day with me carrying, clothing, feeding, etc, etc, etc poor Baylee. By the end of the day, she was able to stand with help. I was starting to feel better, until I remembered that the doctor didn't do (in my extremely humble, okay, maybe not humble opinion) his due diligence where my daughter was concerned.
I woke up at 7 am this morning, to make an appointment with the pediatrician, because I wasn't sure if I would be able to reach the rheumatologist. We decided to save the rest of the Lortab for night, and started Tylenol-ing up. It was probably the longest morning of my life. As we were getting ready to head to the doctor, the rheumatologist called, and agreed that it was likely trauma related. We were instructed to head to the pediatrician, and if we had any problems today, call them tomorrow and they would see us and get us in for a CT scan.
We made it to the pediatrician, and placed ourselves right in front of the fish tank. I'm pretty sure that each of us had a giant blank stare on our faces, while we were pretending everything was hunky dory.
We went back to the room, did her vitals and waited. Baylee was terrified at this point. She has had MRI's in the past, and didn't like the experience. She was tortured at the thought that she might have to do another.
The doctor finally came in, did an incredibly thorough exam, made a few adjustments to her back, and explained she popped out her sacroiliac. We received a prescription for more Lortab, because in the next few days, she was definitely going to need it as the nerves that had been compressed wake up.
Now if you are still asking yourself what exactly, is a sacroiliac? Simple, she dislocated her ummm, well, it rhymes with wutt (only it starts with a B). If you have questions, you know how to reach me.
1. You know what, sometimes you just have to laugh even when crying is so much easier.
2. It isn't everyone that dislocated their umm, it rhymes with wutt.
3. Baylee is one of the most incredible people I have had the honor of knowing...she is tougher than nails.
4. When you have to make the choice between laughing or crying...pick laughing...it burns calories.
5. This would explain why my current diet consists of chocolate covered cinnamon bears and caffeine free diet coke.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
1. Yes, these thoughts really do go through my head.
2. I'm still waiting for my epiphany on the answer.
3. I think I'm bored.
4. I think I need a diversion.
5. I'm pretty sure that I have at least one personality that could answer the question for me, then I wouldn't have to ask someone else and I would be able to completely avoid the whole incident.
We left plenty early to secure parking....oh, we so way learned from our symphony adventure. Forturnately, we went into the parking garage and found the one and only available space right next to where we had to go in. YAY US. That kind of thing rarely happens to us, but we were grateful it did.
We managed to head in and find out where the line for the 2:30 tickets was (were?). We were directed down to the basement where a long line of eager museum fiends gathered. We took our place at the end of the line, and then took turns in the bathroom so that we wouldn't have to run through the exhibit.
We were so excited, because we were only in line about 15 minute and we started to move. After finding out how many were in our party, after a brief moment we were taken upstairs...ROCK ON, we couldn't wait to see all of this stuff that my family had personal experience with thanks to our own desire to keep the medical profession on its toes.
As we excitedly pranced up the stairs, we were stopped dead in our tracks because we were in another line. WOW. We decided it wasn't too bad, the line was moving pretty good, so our excitement didn't really fizzle out. We were so excited and we couldn't wait to see all of the skinless exhibits...Discovery Channel LIVE AND IN PERSON...okay, not really live. I mean I was alive, the exhibits weren't, but this is the kind of thing I get a kick out of.
And way we made to the front of the line in about 15 minutes, not bad. That meant we would make it in time to keep our babysitter from hating our guts. At the front of our line, our hearts fell as we were directed to the back of the next line. As we pulled our dejected excitement slowly behind us, we did get a kick out of the entertainment. There was a skeleton projected up on the wall that you can send text messages to and have projected up on the wall. Felix texted 'Did you come for the 2:30 ticket time too?' There were really some very clever people in line...and of course, some that were so lame you had to think, are they really going to get the exhibit as they walk through? Okay...I know I am judging...but, before you judge me too harshly...just know that I judged myself too, and my judgement of me was that I was too lame to send a text message...okay?
Well after about 30 minutes we made it to the front of the line, where we were directed to, guess what? A NEW LINE. This was so way better than Disneyland. Because I don't know why any one else goes to Disneyland, but I go for the lines...Heaven, I'm in Heaven...WOOHOO.
About halfway through the fourth line there were signs telling you no food, no drink, no gum, no cell phones, no flash photography, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...Well after an hour in various lines, we decided that was more of a guideline than a rule. You know, kind of like how 2:30 was more of a suggestion....
As we made it to the front of this line, we started to get excited again because yay, we didn't see a line in front of us. So we marched up the stairs, excited to get started and again, were dejected as we realized we were at the end of another line. We were in this line for about 20 more minutes...and really we got to know one another again. Really, there wasn't anything else to do.
We happened to be near the screen where they take disabled and elderly folks to the elevator, and unfortunately, a very well seasoned woman was taken through our line to the elevator. The unfortunate part was that we were there to see her, and she became fodder for our mean and sadistic sense of humor that seems to run in my family. Although, by the end of the conversation, we had made a pact to look for her near the end of the exhibit...nuff said?
Okay, we made it to the front of this line, and they scanned the tickets, we walked through the turnstile and Felix had to, really, he just had to, turn around and ask where the end of the next line was...we are so mean. Expecially since we all had to subdue our laughter when she said that there were no more lines, the exhibit started right there...behind that guy...okay...no lines my tushie.
There were really not any more lines, only the people with the guided tour who were block all of the through ways. It was crazy. For about the first 25 minutes, every exhibit we viewed, we had a corresponding family health story. It was really kind of sad. Although, we couldn't help snickering through the entire exhibit.
It was all very cool though. Savannah couldn't handle all of the tiny babies, so we had to kind of run through that part. But I gotta tell ya, Savannah does not want to smoke, drink or eat fat ANY MORE. I wish I could be deterred that easily (about the fatty food part, I don't want to smoke or drink...kay?). She also is able to readily tell the difference between men and women. She was pretty grossed out. I couldn't help but laugh, because Felix just responded to all of her questions, with ASK YOUR MOTHER. The big baby. But, at least we have had 'the talk' and Felix gets the next one. Ha ha.
By the end of the exhibit, we were starting to get tired of swapping doctor, surgery, ambulatory and non-ambulatory stories and decided it was time to move on. It was fun, but standing in line that long kind of does a number on people who have had double knee replacement, multiple back surgeries and a host of other fun experiences...it was kind of old hat for us.
1. A lot of the people who donated their bodies to science were smokers.
2. I still haven't figured out why there was a naked ballet dancer picture there.
3. I also am not sure why they had the trapeze body so heavily taped to the trapeze...did they think she was going to fall off and get hurt or something?
4. We never did find a gall bladder...bummer, we had multiple stories to swap on that one.
5. I'm grateful the people directing us to the lines didn't have cattle prods...oh, and, um MOO.
Well, thanks to our marvelous calendar my Christmas was all messed up. Not you know, the holiday itself, but the timing of everything. Thanksgiving was way too late, wihch threw off my putting up the tree the day after Christmas. So that didn't happen until a week late, which threw my kitty into a tailspin and made her confuse the Christmas tree for a bed. Go figure.
Anyways, we had a wonderful time getting ready for Christmas, although we had to warn the kids that we were doing a smaller Christmas than usual. And no, it wasn't because the economy. We decided that we had been richly blessed and we wanted to take as much of the commercialism out of Christmas as possible. We did do a few gifts, but not nearly the insanity we were used to.
We also started a new tradition this year, that the kids could not buy any gifts for one another. After the weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth subsided, I was able to explain that they would each be writing a letter to each member of the family explaining one of their favorite things about that person and a gift of service they would be willing to give. It turned out absolutely fantastic and I gained some really amazing insight into my children about how well they really know each other. It was wonderful to see that inspite of the disgust with one another they usually exude, they really do have good feelings towards one another, way, way, way, way, way, way down deep.
Fortunately, there were no "What I really wanted"'s this year, because I managed to open my eyes and get them mostly gift cards so they could get what they wanted. Man, it took a lot of pressure off.
As we begin to round out this year, we wish you joy, hope, prosperity and most importantly, happiness.
1. With proper perspective, the holidays DO have more meaning and truly can last the entirety of the year.
2. Laughter really is the best medicine.
3. There is joy in togetherness.
4. We really do like one another when we aren't pretending to hate one another.
5. Giving is truly better than receiving.
Friday, December 26, 2008
1. Do you really need to know what kind of day I had to come up with a question like this?
2. And you thought terrorists were scary...try living inside my head.
3. Kids can draw conclusions where there are none, so can I.
4. Is it immaturity that spurs the question or an 'enquiring' mind that wants to know?
5. I hope tomorrow has better fodder for me to play with.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
1. OK, fine. Yes, I do. I am just that muddled that when someone says that to me I have to look down and see when I actually got on ice.
2. Here is my Plato, Socrates and Aristotle moment all rolled into one...You can't see where you are going, until you have seen where you have been.
3. Thank goodness for old philosphers...I never would have been able to come up with number 2 on my own (giggle, giggle, I typed number two, bah, ha, ha, ha, ha)
4. Is it possible that you actually want to be on thin ice and the proper response is, 'Thank goodness, I have finally made it.' ? It could happen.
5. Children like thin ice...it gives them purpose to go on.
Monday, December 22, 2008
1. Calgon, oh Calgon, where for art thou Calgon?
2. Wouldn't it be cool to have a transporter beam like on Star Trek and then when your kids are mean to you, you can say cool stuff like, 'Beam me up, SNOTTY.'
3. Where would I go...I hate to travel...bugger, I have stumbled upon a conundrum.
4. I don't think escaping would actually help.
5. I could escape inside my mind, (loud echo) my mind, (medium echo) my mind, (soft echo), my mind....YAY it's vacant and available immediately.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
1. I'm not that deep.
2. I really could ponder that for a REALLY long time.
3. What was the 'Thinker' statue really thinking?
4. Yup, still not that deep.
5. I'm going to go an wade in the shallow end of my brain now....
Friday, December 19, 2008
1. Don't dare me...I will do it.
2. Someone really thought this would be a good menu item.
5. There are lessons everywhere, if you look.
On the second day of Christmas my true love game to me two turtle doves and a patridge in a pear tree. Great, it's that wretched partridge again and now doves? That's it, I'm calling animal control.
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. What the hud is up with the flipping birds? Who's going to clean up all of the poop?
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a patridge in a pear tree. Are they remaking Hitchcocks birds or something? HELP ME.
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. That's right we are in Utah, so 5 golden rings is perfectly acceptable. At least there will be help to build the aviary.
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Great, now it's not only bird poop, but eggs too. GRAND.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me 7 swans a swimming, 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. I don't have a pool, why the heck are they here? Where's my gun? Swans aren't a protected species are they?
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 8 maids a milking, 7 swans a swimming, 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Milking what? We only have stupid birds.
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 9 ladies dancing, 8 maids a milking, 7 swans a swimming, 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Has anyone told them that they are dancing on bird poop and eggs yet?
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 10 lords a leaping, 9 ladies dancing, 8 maids a milking, 7 swans a swimming, 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Okay, the lords a leaping got the memo...at least they are trying to avoid the bird poop.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me 11 pipers piping, 10 lords a leaping, 9 ladies dancing, 8 maids a milking, 7 swans a swimming, 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Great, the plumbers are here. What do they think they are going to accomplish, birds don't use toilets.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me 12 drummers drumming, 11 pipers piping, 10 lords a leaping, 9 ladies dancing, 8 maids a milking, 7 swans a swimming, 6 geese a laying, 5 golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. Well, with any luck at all they will drum everyone out of here so I can clean up the poop.
1. I'm a cynic.
2. You can make fun of absolutely anything, if you are willing to do the job.
3. I really hope that there was some hidden meaning behind all of this, because if I got some of these insane gifts, there would be [expletive deleted] to pay.
4. Was the true love trying woo her or poo her?
5. The lighter side of life is fun.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
1. It tastes like cheesecake...who cares what it is called.
2. I don't think it would make me eat any healthier
4. Apple pie cheesecake....OH YEAH
Monday, December 15, 2008
Random Thought of the Day
When you take a drink of milk, start laughing suddenly and milk comes out of your nose...is that considered backwash?
1. Ummmmmmmmm, ew.
2. Could it be nose spew?
4. More politically correct, esophagus challenged dairy product from happy cows (not sad ones, only happy ones)?
5. Do I seriously have this much time on my hands? Yes, yes I do.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
1. I don't really know what you could learn from this other than my brain comes up with all sorts of weird things when it is winding down.
2. I think good manners should be used all of the time...don't you?
3. If you pause to actually think about this, call me...let's do lunch.
4. I am worried about what might be hiding behind my weird random thoughts...and do I dare try to find out?
5. Okay...I think my brain might be out of gas....gas, get it?
I will be the first to admit that large number of my days are THOSE days. I am not ashamed to admit it. But even for me, in the twisted little world I live in, it was one of THOSE days.
It's Saturday. I went to bed last night with the intention of sleeping in. I never get to sleep in...never, ever, never, ever to infinity plus one (I win). I should have recognized the signs right away. The first and most obvious sign, was that everyone went to bed, on time AND without a fight...that signals DOOMSDAY in the biggest way imaginable. Why I didn't pick up on it, I will never know. My guess, I would too tired to recognize the signs...that is how much I wanted to sleep. In fact, it was so obvious, that if it were 20 feet tall in my living room, smoking a cigar while dancing a jig, it couldn't have been more obvious than it already was. Well, now that I feel I have made my point I can continue knowing that I got at least one thing right today.
So as we all tried to softly drift into a night of peaceful, dreamless sleep...Caleb popped in at about 10:30 scared out of his mind. After an hour of calming him down we both settled back in at around 11:30. At 12:30, the first nightmare hit. At 2:30, it was about time for Caleb to have a potty break. At 5:30, well, who knows...I was just awake...splendid. So my plan for sleeping in was thwarted by the three year olds imagination and bladder. Okey dokey.
At 7:30 I decided I should go to the store. Why? Well, I don't know about your house, but at mine, when every body wakes, they have all developed this strange habit of needing to 'use the facilities'. And since I was out of toilet paper, I could see the DOOM spelled out. Since Baylee was up, I figured she could go with me. It had been a bit of a difficult week for the two of us, and I was hoping to show her that on some level, we still liked each other.
Off we went. We had a perfectly lovely time buying toilet paper and paper towels and all of the good things that families are founded on. She had a few bucks, so she did her own bit of shopping. We checked out and headed to the car, at which point she decided that she wanted a drink. Ummmmm, no. I had already paid, and there was NO WAY I was getting back in line. So instead, I was the proud recipient of the tantrum of the century all the way home. It was SO fun...you should all be jealous. By the time we got home, she had earned 20 minutes in time out. Probably a good thing....I think she has become accustomed to breathing. So off to time out she went. After fifteen good solid minutes of screaming about being thirsty, I finally chucked a bottle of water her way. And her response? Just know that this is a true story. Her response was, "I wanted ice." You have got to be kidding me. Seriously, I can't make this stuff up...even with my imagination, I am NOT that good.
As soon as the ice comment hit, Savannah was all over me about taking her to the store, because how dare I play favorites...because that it was I always do. My children haven't clued in to the fact, that everything I do is actually an extreme right wing conspiracy. So off to the store we go. We head to Target first, because she is sure that the exact pen she wants is there. And after 20 minutes of looking, checking with a Target employee and calling the friend that had the pen...we tripped upon the discovery, that Target does not carry that. But Justice does. Too bad Justice doesn't open for another 30 minutes. But lucky, lucky me I was treated to the explanation that all bad things in the world are my fault. I am glad she told me, I didn't know.
Once we got home, Noah had a coniption fit about not getting a turn to the store. Of course. Why not...that is all I had planned for the day...shopping....for nothing....with crabby children.
I struck a bargain with them and said if they hurried and got their chores done, we could take more trip out. Felix had to head to work to fix a problem, so I was left to enjoy the crabbiness that had eeked in to every pore.
They started their chores. Too bad they weren't as excited about finishing. They were really good about getting going...unfortunately, Caleb decided at about this time he was a high flying trapeze monkey ninja. After a series of 'Hiyahs' and assorted kicks and punches into thin air, he started tackling Savannah and Baylee who were absolutely thrilled by the attention. So thrilled in fact, that they spent thirty minutes screaming about how nothing ever got done around the house unless they did it, and had to deal with Caleb ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Somewhere around here Caleb started calling everybody a stupid punk, holding up his fists and telling them to bring it on. Too bad for him, they did. The brawl was somewhat reminiscent of the fights in Bugs Bunny cartoons, where all you can see is an occasional limb and a big dust cloud.
Finally, everyone settled down. They finished up the bare minimum and off to the store we went. First to Justice. I believe we were in the store a whole 30 seconds when Felix called to say he was done. And folks, I am not as stupid as I look. I called for reinforcements. While he was on his way, Caleb decided that this was the perfect time to have a POOPY attack. We find the bathroom and the apathetic pooper took FOR-EV-ER. By the time he was done, Felix was at the store. He took the boys, I perused with the girls.
Okay...I am seriously not a fan of shopping. Going with two girls who LOVE it, was slightly excrutiating. HATED IT. But they had a good time. Once finished, I called Felix and found out they were at the game store...headed over. Arrived just in time to stop the travesty of a 3 game purchase...I don't think so. When chores start getting done without fighting, I am all about new games...not before.
Then of course, we have to stop back at Felixs' office to get something that had been overlooked. Hurrying as quickly as possible, we got home (barely) since Caleb decided to unbuckle and hide in the car, which nearly gave us all panic attacks. Caleb was so mad at us for being mad at him, he put himself in bed and took a nap. Works for me.
We settled in for a movie and left the children to join us to go do their own thing. After a while, a few friends came over and the chaos ensued. I'm still not quite sure how many marshmallows and gallons of hot chocolate were sacrified to destroy my kitchen. They are martyrs for their cause....
Once the movie was over, I just wasn't hungry. Which usually means I am not cooking. Sorry to the rest of the family...you are ON YOUR OWN. I headed up to chill for a bit. Then Caleb decided that he needed a bath...and he was right. That went really smoothly. It is nice to know that kind of thing can still happen. After his bath Caleb was hungry, and YAY Noah offered to make him a sandwich for dinner.
After about 15 minutes, Caleb came up with a plate full of Nilla Wafers and whipped cream. I didn't want to know. I really didn't. So for as long as I possibly could...I went to that little safe place in my head and pretended like everything was okay. Then I realized that I had to go and put another load of laundry in. Bah humbug.
I made almost all the way down the stairs. ALMOST. I was so close, I could taste it. Really. Because there was whipped cream all over the floor. In order to go an get the mop to clean the mess I had to wade through the sticky goo. I had a major dejavu moment of going to a very old, very not clean movie theater. We have all been there at one point or another...the one that has 10 years of sticky on it. And in order to take a step you have to assist your legs with your hands in order to pull your feet of the floor.
Then I get to clean the floor. It was 9 o'clock and I didn't have anything better to do. Then I found the hot chocolate spill that was left to blend in to the background of the granite countertop. Picking a black counter really has it perks...this wasn't one of them. It hides WAY too much. So off to clean the spill. Which of course sets off my OCD tendency and then I have to clean the entire kitchen and mop the kitchen, living room and entry. YAY ME.
So that comes to really close to now. I was so irritated that I tried to play the piano. And my James Bond was way meaner than it should have been. So I decided to get it all out and write it on a blog entry. And you know what. I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, feel better. Thanks for listening...or reading or whatever. But I do have good news. The kids are very anti-going to bed...it may be a good night after all.
1. When I get mad, I get REALLY, REALLY mad...I need to do a better job of emoting so that it all balances out better.
2. When I get mad, my kitchen gets REALLY, REALLY clean...maybe I shouldn't do a better job of emoting...my house would at least get clean.
3. When I get mad, my kids think it is REALLY, REALLY funny...am I doing it wrong?
4. When I get mad, it doesn't take to long before I feel REALLY, REALLY guilty...now I know I am doing it wrong.
5. When I get mad, I get REALLY, REALLY tired...which is how this whole mess started in the first place.
Monday, December 8, 2008
2. People have actually done studies on this kind of stuff...no wonder the government is in debt.
3. My mind is a frightening kind of maze with all sorts of weird turns that hold all sorts of different things.
4. I am starting to think that I am moving from good crazy to bad crazy.
5. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm....I think the question says it all.... don't you?
Sunday, December 7, 2008
My husband and I went on a wonderful date last night. We decided to really do something special and we went out to the symphony to see Mozarts Requiem. It is really pretty funny that we would end up at the symphony because Felix is a major Metal Head, while I am the soundtrack and pop queen. However, although our tastes are extraordinarily different, we do share a love of classical music. Sorry Mozart, as much as we love you, Bach is our favorite.
We left several hours before we needed to be there with the intention of having a nice dinner beforehand. Unforetunately, I hadn't been up to Salt Lake for quite a while and didn't realize it had turned into Little LA. The traffic was immense and I loved how every single route around Abravanel Hall was doing construction and at some point or another narrowed down to a single lane. So after two hours stuck in traffic (and a solid half an hour behind one of the horse drawn carriages...don't go there, it isn't pretty), we finally made it to the venue and found a modern day miracle: Free Parking. We walked into Abravanel Hall exactly 18 minutes before it began.
Felix and I are not social butterflies, we spent a few minutes meandering through the crowd, and as soon as possible went to our seats. We followed the instructions sent to us by email (the one that said it would make us look like seasoned symphony goers) and studiously read the programs.
The lights dimmed, the instruments tuned up and all of the last minute people rushed in and stepped on the feet of all of the people who sat down early. Eventually everyone was settled and the conductor came on stage.
The first soft strains of music rapturously filled the air and the musical scene was set in front of us. The music was like colors filling the air. First the air was filled with swirls of pastels, followed by bright and brilliant colors. At the crescendo, the deep, rich hues permeated the air and surrounded you. It was phenomenal. The second piece included an amazing sopranoand mezzo soprano, and it too was amazing.
Next came the intermission. And being the seasoned symphony folk we are, we played games on our Blackberrys, updated Facebook profiles and sporadically threw out as many composers names as we possibly could. Uh, yeah, we wanted to look good. And our abundent knowledge of Chopin, Van Gogh, Dvorak, Picasso, Beethoven (as well as other composers and artists) made us look AWESOME.
Again the lights dimmed, setting the tone for next piece, the Requiem itself. As the soprano, mezzo soprano, tenor and bass joined the musicians on stage, we got ready for a real treat. And it was.
The first five minutes were undeniably incredible. It was in minute six I realized that I the attention span of a gnat. At one of the crescendos, I had a vision of the amazing Light Saber battle in Star Wars: Phantom Menace. The next twenty minutes or so went a little something like this:
Light Saber Battle: Wondering if John Williams was a huge fan of Mozart
Orchestra: What kind of hair product does the conductor use...his hair is really shiny and bouncy.
Light Saber Battle: Wouldn't it be cool to put the TV on mute and play the requiem while watching the light saber battle?
Orchestra: It is soooooooo cool that all of the bows of the violinists move up and down at exactly the same time...how very calming.
Home: I wonder if the kids have killed each other yet.
Light Saber Battle: I think this would be the part that Quaigon Jin is about to die(I have no idea how to spell that)
Home: It is so cool knowing my kids would really like to see this themselves.
Right around here Felix leans over and points out that part sounds kind of like Queens Bohemian Rhapsody. Which sparks another lapse of attention.
Queen: Hmmmmm, I wonder if Freddie Mercury liked Mozart.
Light Saber Battle: If you close your eyes you can see Darth Maul and Quaigon on the stage.
Home: They haven't texted in a while, maybe they really are dead.
Queen: I wonder if there are any other Queen songs that sound like Mozart. I wonder if Freddie Mercury could manage as one of the soloists, and which one?
Light Saber Battle: It looks like Freddie Mercury joined in.
Orchestra: That guy on the drums is so cool. How long does it take to become a percussionist?
Queen: Mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go...................
Light Saber Battle: I really like John Williams.
Home: I wonder if the kids will be mad if we stop to get something to eat?
Orchestra: These guys are amazing singers, I wonder how they learn to sing in a foreign language.
I think you kind of get the idea. Overall it was fabulous and I had a wonderful time.
1. I really do like classical music, even if I tend to wander.
2. It was fun to have a date that wasn't movies and popcorn.
3. I am so amazed at the musical gifts of others...I wonder if they know how much joy they bring to the world?
4. I might have to try the opera next...just so I can say I've been there.
5. I don't just love my husband...I really like him too.
Monday, December 1, 2008
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away....Oh wait, sorry, I had my Princess Leia hair buns on and forgot which story I was telling. Let me try again.
Last Tuesday night, we were trying to find a decent dinner (which means I wasn't cooking...solved that problem), that didn't cost too much. We settled on the high side, and went for Kneaders. A good sandwich on yummy bread sounded quite tasty. We all ordered sat down and then I spent a few minutes meandering through all of the wonderful Christmas decorations that I couldn't afford.
Our food came out pretty quickly and it was a good thing, cause I was starving and so were the kids. I went for my favorite Chicken Pesto Panini, and the kids voted on Chicken Salad. YUM-O. I was making an incredible dent on my panini and Savannah inhaled half of her first half. I asked her how it was and she stopped and said, "What's in this sandwich?" I was like, ummm, chicken...it is chicken salad after all. She said my mouth feels funny...it is starting to itch. At which point she started to cry. She said her mouth was burning. Felix and I started to look at her sandwich, were we discovered a small stash of walnuts, gently surrounded by the soft blankets of mayo. So sweet. So innocent looking. But, here it comes, UH-OH.
At about the same moment we realized there were walnuts in the sandwich we both looked at Savannah and watched as her lips turned into duck bills (quick side note---if you haven't figured it out, Savannah is allergic to walnuts). Felix grabbed his jacket, grabbed her and started running to the Instacare across the street. I was about 15 feet behind them yelling about the fact that I didn't have my purse, my phone or my keys.
Unforetunately for me, and for Kneaders, he didn't hear me. So I went and got to go boxes and told the boys we were packing up. On the good side, Baylee was in California so that was one less kid I had to finagle. We packed up all of the food and just then, Caleb decided to drop his drink on the floor. As I was practicing my contortionist skills trying to get the cup off of the floor without having to actually GET ON the floor, I knocked over Felix's drink. And of course, Noah took a direct hit. I grabbed as many napkins as I thought was legal (I wouldn't want to be nabbed for obscene kleptomania of paper linens), and proceeded to clean up the mess as best I could. I went and found a cute Kneader worker who said no worries, she'll take care of it. While I had her at my disposal, I explained that I would be back to pick up my car because my daughter had an allergic reaction (Kneaders in Orem has a time limit in their parking lot...hence my goody two shoesiness in letting them know I might go over my allotted time). But Kneaders peoples are WONDERFUL, and she said no big.
So I gathered my sons, the food, the drinks and said head out. Noah, in a very Calvin Klein model walk type of thing, threw his jacket over one of his shoulders and knocked over a porcelain Christmas tree, that shattered into a million and one pieces. I counted...it was a million and one. I took the largest shard I could find up to the register, explained AGAIN that I was stranded and when I came to pick up my car I would pay for the tree. Poor Kneaders people...they just at me and said, "Just go. Really. Just go." Okay, okay. I know it sounds a little harsh, but they really just wanted me to get to Savannah. I'm sure of it.
Now I was outside with the boys, the food and the drinks and we were heading to the crosswalk in the dark. Because that was where I had imagined myself that night...in the dark, at a crosswalk with my boys and load in my arms, trying to cross the street. With a skillful balancing act I managed to get across the street, not drop anything and hopefully have the same amount of people at the far end. AND WE DID IT...YAY.
I charge into the Instacare, find out where Savannah is and like push forward like a mama bear to get to my ailing baby. I walk into the room, and her duck lips were still there. They had her hooked up to all sorts of machines and were coming in to give her a bohonkus shot. Felix looked at me and wondered why I wasn't answering my cell phone. So I went back to the part of the story where I was chasing him out of Kneaders like a psycho yelling about my lack of purse, cell phone AND keys. It was kind of like a reverse mugging. His response really summed up the stress of the moment, "Oh." That was it, just, "Oh." It was nice to know I wasn't the only one who got stressed out enough to not say anything.
We decided it was in Savannahs best interest if I got the boys out of there and let her have her daddy with her (since he was the hero who whisked her off into the darkness to save her from the painful allergy foe).
I got to have the best dejavu moment ever, trying to get back across the street. It was harder the second time. I think Caleb thought he had already done it once and could do it by himself the second time. And as the mommy, ummmm, no. You will hold on to me and you will like it.
We made and got into the car, still no purse, still on phone, but yahoo I had keys and could escape from the Kneaders time limit Aytch Eeeee Double Hockey Sticks parking lot. I took refuge at my parents house up the street waiting to hear what the next step for Savannah was. Fortunately, she had an immediate reaction to the injection and was doing wonderful. She did have to stay on mega doses of Benadryl for a few days because she ingested the walnuts and was going to keep having reactions...and that was WAY fun...I know, you all want to be me...who could blame you?
1. When it comes to children, always expect the unexpected.
2. Daddys can do just as good of a job as mommies...but mommies don't want them to know that. (It is how we STAY the center of the universe)
3. Savannah is a tough cookie.
4. I will forever be asking if there are walnuts in that.
5. Epipens are so cool looking.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
1. Go to your pictures file.
2. Go to the 4th file.
3. Go to the 4th picture.
4. Post it and tell the story.
This is Calebs bum. October 2006. His first 'real' Halloween. He had only been walking for maybe a week or two and was still faster at escaping on his knees. He couldn't figure out why he had weird clothes on and was even more freaked out by how his siblings looked. At this point he had given up and headed home.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
On occasion I will go through previous posts (to really appreciate where I am right now)...and I have picked up on a common thread...Any Guesses? Come on, it really is pretty obvious. Plumbing and Water. DDUUUUUUUHHHHHHH.
Which brings me to todays' post. Yesterday, we decided to be completely super industrious. So we embarked on our adventure in cleaning the garage. Now that we had the shed and a place to put everything, maybe we should actually put it there.
So we get everything moved out and realized EEWWWWWWW GROSS. We moved the carpet that was by the entrance to the house and found like an inch of dirt underneath. At this point, we realized sweeping was NOT enough. All that sweeping would do is move the dust around and as soon as we turned our backs, it would settle.
As we were in such an incredible worker bee type mood, we decided to hook a hose up to the spigot in the garage...we should really thank the original owners of the house for all of the wonderful ideas they had when building the house. As usual, we had to take it one step further...we put Dawn on the garage floor so we could scrub up all of the grease and gross that was EVERYWHERE.
We go to put the hose on, and realize the little turny handle thing is gone. I am fairly certain that is disappeared right after we moved in 10 years ago and Savannah had a ball turning the water on and off. Hence, the disappearing little turny handle thing.
But, that's OK. Why? Because we have tools. Lots and lots of tools. So we find an awesome little teeny, tiny wrench that fits the little deely bobber perfectly. And we turn the hose on. GREAT...until I get drenched because somebody didn't tighten the hose to the spigot. And then we turn it off. And then we tighten it. And then we turn it on and BEGIN. We get out the brooms and methodically scrub and scrub and scrub the garage floor.
A good, solid hour later we are done. And we go to turn the water off. I said, We go to turn the water off. Ahem, excuse me...WE GO TO TURN THE WATER OFF. And it almost does, but not all the way...Naturally. So we figure, let's just replace the spigot, no big deal. I run down to the hardware store to buy a faucet while Felix is turning the water off to the house. We have no idea what size the pipe is, so we buy one of every size. I go home and we slowly unscrew the spigot and take it out of the wall...and take it out of the wall...and take it out of the wall. It was like 9 inches long...hello...what the hud is that thing. So I grab it, run back to the hardware store, find the dude that helped me before, hold up the part and say one very descriptive word, "Help."
Okay, he starts to laugh at me. So what else is new...people laughing at me has truly become an embedded part of my personality. So he says to me, that is a FREEZE PROOF spigot. At this point, I give. I explain I no longer care what anything is and please, may I just have a cap to plug up the line. I buy it and fly home (I'm pretty sure it was on my broomstick).
Once home I decide I am the Martha Stewart of plumbing and without waiting for anyone, I grab my handy plumbers tape and wrap the plug, cut a hole in the wall and put it in. I have no more time and patience. Felix turns the water on, and it is dripping....at about the same rate as the fragile pieces of my ego, delicately hitting the floor.
We turn the water off, take the plug off and put more tape on it. Put it on turn the water on and watch it continue to drip into the recesses of my homes innards...You may be asking, what do we do now? We didn't know either...we just watched it. We were waiting for the epiphany to come. It didn't.
So rather than watch the event that would cause toxic mold to over take my house, we decided to save a whole bunch of time and call a plumber.
I love the Yellow Pages. I love that the Yellow Pages has groupings by whether or not they offer 24 hour service. I begin calling. 1st call-Voicemail. 2nd call-Voicemail. 3rd call-Voicemail. 4th call-Roto Rooter and they can be here in 1 to 2 hours. Great, I knew I would only be able to get in touch with the most expensive plumber in the phone book.
Felix goes to buy a new Freeze Proof spigot, because now that we have gone through so much trouble we better be getting something long term out of the deal. Whatever...works for me. I get to stay home and wait for Roto Rooter. And what better to do that watch the water drip. FUN FOR ME. It is really like watching water boil (and as a side note, I have done that too).
Felix gets home with lunch and a faucet. We eat and we wait. Finally they show up. I am absolutely no longer in the mood to deal with anything, so I hide up in my room. Felix gets to over see the fun. He only here about 5 minutes when Felix comes up to tell me that the plumber dropped our wrench in the wall. Bummer. We no longer have a complete set of wrenches...that is going to do wonders for my OCD.
5 minutes after that, he is done. Great...nothing like being told your an idiot in less that a quarter of an hour. After he leaves, Felix says the guy said we did it all right except for the plumbers tape. Plumbers tape should not be used on 1/2 inch pipe....and it is iffy on 3/4 inch. And I know that why? Because that is why my pipe was leaking. He said we did it all right, but we had to use this special plumbing goo stuff that would expand and seal the pipe. And it only cost me $160 (we got a screaming deal...he took off 5 bucks for the wrench...lucky me).
So we now have a spigot in the garage with a handle, hidden by the water softener salt tank thing...my world is complete.
1. I am STILL NOT A PLUMBER.
2. I think it is still just money.
3. I did save LARGE amounts of stress by calling a plumber early.
4. Before I do another house project, I should really be a plumbers apprentice.
5. At least I am never bored.
Monday, November 10, 2008
I finally received the elusive cooktop that has been plaguing my life for the last month. When it arrived I just couldn't wait for Felix to get home to put it in. No really, I couldn't wait. So I made some shims to hold up the unit so I could put the cooktop on and I installed it myself.
And everyone that knows me shouldn't be surprised by this. I have horrible patience issues, and I really do have a tendency to OVER take the initiative of the situation. But I did it, and I cannot tell you how satisfying it was to flip the breaker and turn everything on...and of course, I did it over and over and over (I may have some mild OCD tendencies).
But as I have shared my trials, tribulations and sadness, I had to share my joy. And it is JOY...YAY ME, YAY ME, YAY ME.
1. Sometimes it is worth the extra money to buy directly from the manufacturer.
2. As much I hate it, I really missed cooking real dinners.
3. If I set my mind to it, I can really do just about anything...not that I will, but I could, if I wanted to.
5. It's just money....
Sunday, November 9, 2008
So it more or less took me all week (and a change in prescription meds) to get my mood to improve this week...but IT FINALLY DID. And is every one in my household glad. Although, as a quick side note, they aren't cleaning up any better...but alas, it is what it is.
So after having such a difficult week with everyone trying to put up with me and my bad mood, Felix and I decided that we needed to do something fun. Yay us, we put a fire pit in the backyard.
Last year, when we did the addition on our house, we decided to have a trampoline hole dug so that the kids (especially the younger ones) could get on and off easier. The hole was dug in June, and we couldn't put the trampoline in the hole until October when everything was finished. And of course, when we put the trampoline in the hole the hole was over dug by 3 feet. Of course it was...what was I thinking...why should I have expected that it would have been dug to size. But wait...it gets better. The hole was dug at the wrong angle, and through the course of a VERY wet winter, the hole collapsed and completely covered all of the trampoline legs...GIVE ME A BREAK.
Well in early spring, we managed to get the trampoline out of the hole and beg our neighbor who was finishing up his addition to dump the dirt from his yard into our massively ugly hole. Okay, this story is getting way too long, to make a long story short (a little late, don't ya think?) as we were moving the dirt around, we decided that it would be cool to have a fire pit so we could make REAL LIVE S'MORES WHENEVER WE WANTED TO. And we did. It was a painstaking process and took way longer than it should have, but we have it, we love it and it's done. (Nice way to tell a story huh...by going around the block to get to the house next door).
Okay...so now you know how we have a fire pit...now it's time to tell about SMOKIN'. As I was saying, forever ago, we needed to lighten the mood so we decided it would be a good night for s'mores. We took the kids out to dinner (Because lest we all forget, I STILL DON'T HAVE A COOKTOP...dumb Sears), and we needed something other than the boring dinners I have been cooking in the oven.
So on the way home from dinner we tell the kids, who have naturally been bickering non-stop about the Earth's gravitational force or about the Pythagorean Theorum or something little, like breathing...AND I WAS SICK OF IT. So we decided to sweeten the pot, and tell them if they could make it all the way home (which was like three minutes), then we could do s'mores. And wouldn't you know it, World War 3 broke out in the backseat of my car. Okay fine...this was one of those, "If you can't get along, so help me I will turn this car around" moments. Except we were already going home, and that is what they wanted.
So how could I turn this little fiasco in my favor? No problema...when the house is clean, we can do s'mores. And, WOW, my house got clean fast.
Out the door for s'more we go. On the difficult side, we live in Utah, it is fall, and the ground is drenched. So with much kindling, LOTS of cardboard, and twigs galore, we managed to get the fire started.
Not exactly the raging inferno we made in the toilet (For all those who need to know, please refer to the first post on this blog). Nor was it the type of bonfire that would obliterate a marshmallow into nothingness just by thinking about it...but it was a small, cozy little fire, that would get put out if someone farted. Okey, dokey, now that none of you will ever eat s'mores again without thinking of passing gas...I'll move on.
Because it was so wet, and even though the fire was kind of small, man that puppy put out a lot of smoke. It was kind of like playing musical chairs with smoke signals. No one was ever in the same place more than 2 minutes and at one point or another, you would hear someone go, "AAAGGGGHHHH", and cover their eyes...It was kind of a Dr. Seuss moment. 'I do not like smoke in my eyes, anymore than I like flies. I do not like smoke from a train, I really think it is a pain'. Okay, I'll stop torturing you...I was having a moment, with a big red and white striped hat on my head.
So Savannah of course, had to dramatize the entire process of marshmallows, and put it off as long as possible, just because she couldn't get her 'pet stick' to catch fire. And I'm pretty sure that Caleb only managed to get one s'more before he started burning his marshmallows to a crisp and watching them explode in the fire (microwaves got nothin', nothin' I tell ya, on our fire pit). Noah, was content in his own little world melt, eat, burn...melt, eat, burn. He was working on a 1 to 1 ratio of eating versus destroying. And Baylee, well, Baylee was Baylee and was spending her time chasing people around the backyard...as usual.
We had a wonderful time, just not thinking about any of the stresses in our lives and enjoying each other and our friends that joined us. I can't wait until we do the first S'more party with snow on the ground.
1. When my kids tell me that I never let them do anything, I now have pictures that prove I let them play with fire.
2. I really enjoy my children...
3. Size (of fire) doesn't matter when it comes to making s'mores.
4. In the midst of all of the chaos in our world, it is so nice to have a place where you can spend time with those that matter most.
5. I really, really, really like toasted marshmallows...to an unhealthy point.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
And as an incredibly quick side note...my 8 year old son, who is apparently a fabulous over-the-shoulder reader, just pointed out that my blog would go over much better if I wrote about how incredibly wonderful my children were...
Back to the subject at hand. I suppose this is my apology blog. I don't know, not really for anything in particular, just me being short (not of stature, of patience...stay with me people). I think it all really started with my last post regarding the evil do-er that refused to fix my cooktop even though they said they would....hmmmm, don't get me started. I think I headed into a dangerous shame spiral. You know, just being mad at the world for conspiring against me. Oh, you know...you have all been there...some of us just admit it.
The last 24-48 hours have been kind of a general bummer, with bits and pieces of good flung in there somewhere.
I am not kidding, Sears threw me for a major loop...especially since I am still without a cooktop (it's on backorder and tomorrow there is going to be a phone call about me freaking out because of Thanksgiving...stay posted, I will let you know how that turns out). So while I have been trying to feed my family without a stovetop, and getting sick of the microwave meals and partials meals that can be cooked in the oven...the kitchen alone is enough to push anyone over the edge. And it did.
Okay, I will hurry and sum things up so I can get to the title of this post....
1. We got a shed....it is pretty, it is big and I am tired from moving stuff into it (and I have only made a tiny dent in the piles of crud that have to get moved in there). Unforetunately, my OCD has kicked in and there is one splotch of blue on the white and I have to get that taken care of before I blow my top. It completely freaks me out every time I go out there...I swear it is almost as if there is a giant spotlight with one of those flashing arrows pointing at the spot.
2. I found out that a combination of medication I am on can cause seizures...hmmmm, maybe not so hot for someone who already has a seizure disorder...that is on my to do list too.
3. Someone spilled red punch on the carpet, and hid it with a pillow because they wanted to make sure the stain was set. And it did...hope you're proud.
4. Post apocolyptic Halloween anxiety has hit my house way stinking hard...enough so that all of our heads have spun off, hit the ceiling and now someone has to clean up the bloody mess. Which is probably going to be me. And the chewed up pieces of gum I found couch (IN TWO PLACES)...shall I go on?
5. I have lost 15 pounds, great, right? Yeah until my friends Snickers, Butterfinger and Baby Ruth showed up on Friday...
Okay now to the title. This is actually kind of funny...well it was last night, today it just made me sad.
So we decided that since Halloween had already thrown us for a loop, and we were going out with friends, we were going to put our 'Lifestyle Change' (i.e. stupid diet) on hold and enjoy some good grub. We met our friends at Maglebys and had a wonderful dinner, except for having to keep asking for the yummy rolls because they weren't making enough. But once we got them, devoured them and begged for more, we decided that we would splurge and get dessert. Of course I was going for the chocolate cake with ice cream, DUH. This is a big deal...I haven't had cake in 2 months...I know, a record...2 months. Mind you, there were 4 of us at the table and we each had our own desert. After we were digging in for a little while the server (see how politically correct I am, I don't say waiter and waitress any more) came to check on us...he got about half way through his question, looked at my plate and said have you eaten that much by yourself? That was just you? Wow...you are good. And then there was me....Pause, smile and politely inform said server that we have all been given talents in this life, and eating was apparently mine. Stop camera, let's get the forklift and get the ol' girl out of her chair. We all had a good giggle until he came back and did it again. Okay, I am now officially in a self-esteem crisis (I need to be like my friend who is 9 months pregnant and gets hit on at the gas station...I could do with a little bit of that action). Honestly, atthis point I just wanted to get up and waddle out of the restaurant with the little dignity I had left. And I did...with my bag from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory snuggled up cozily in my purse. I really did get a good laugh, but today I felt kind of bad and think maybe I should give up food....FOREVER....WAAAAAAHHHHHH.
So then at church today (and this is really a good thing because it came from a woman, if a man had said it, he would be castrated), I was talking with my really good friend who somehow makes me feel okay enough about my life that I have a horrible tendency to dump on her. But as I was explaining everything, she realized I was PMS-ing. DUH. I haven't done that in so long I completely don't recognize the signs (and thank you, you know who you are for telling it to me straight). Not that it stopped me from being psycho when I got home from church.
So now that the 2 events that really pushed me over the edge have been published for the entire world to see (and I just turned the cookies I was making into charcoal), I suppose I owe everyone an apology for being ornery, needy, pathetic, weepy and just plain mean to my kids. A super big apology to my kids for not being very nice, but remember, if you don't start cleaning up after yourselves...so help me...and so REALLY help you.
1. The server from dinner last night really needs to get married...I mean, why didn't you just ask me how much I weigh for the love of Pete....do you want to know how old I am too? SHEESH.
2. I miss the hormone balance I got from Depo....I hope things level out soon...and so does every one else.
3. I love my friends that tell me to take my head out of my bum and deal with the fact I am PMS-ing.
4. I really need to get over the fact I feel yucky and get back on the treadmill tomorrow, because I know that will make me feel better.
5. With as impatient as I am, I realize my children must have been blessed with way more patience because they have to deal with me....
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Lately, we have been in somewhat of a destruction spiral. Everything has broken. And I mean everything. It started with the car battery (that was defective when I had it replaced in August), then the washing machine, the DVD player, the cooktop, a crystal mug and a few other things that I have already blocked out (my therapist thinks blocking is healthy in my case).
So let's start with the washing machine, shall we? We have made all major appliance purchases through Sears. They are typically averaged price, but they have a really good Master Protection Agreement that covers darn near everything that you can renew for like ever. So here goes the saga.
The washing machine dies on Sunday night. Ordinarily this wouldn't be to big of a deal, but I was going out of town in a week and a half, and seriously needed to do laundry (with a household of 7, it tends to pile up). So I call Sears first thing Monday morning and schedule service for Saturday. Since it is Saturday, the time they give you is from 8 am to 5 pm. So I cancel everything we have going on for Saturday and deal with it.
The week more or less rolls around with only a few smaller things breaking, like the DVD player. And on Friday, at about 4:30, I get a phone call from the Sears technician telling me that they don't have enough techs and they are cancelling my appointment the next day. I told him that I was going out of town and was desperate, and needed my washer fixed ASAP. He said that he could get me in on the 21st. I was like, ummmmmmmmmmm, no. I told him he needed to get me in sooner. So he agreed to fit me in on Tuesday. I asked him how they determine who gets bumped when they are understaffed, and it apparently made him angry. He told me that it just depends, they have to pick someone and it was just me. Okay, whatever. I told him at that point that I would need to have service Tuesday morning then because of my schedule, and he agreed.
So the Saturday that I cancelled everything on happens, and so does a jar of pickles. After a trip to the grocery store, a jar of pickles met my cooktop with an unfortunate amount of force and the entire corner of my year old cooktop is shattered. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH. So I call Sears again. I explain the entire situation with the pickles, tell them I can't find my paperwork, but want to know whether or not this type of thing is covered or if I need to buy a new cooktop. I am put on hold and after a few minutes the representative comes back to tell me that my Service Agreement is 'All Inclusive' and it is for sure covered. I ask if the entire unit is going to be replaced or if they will just swap out the top. She says they will swap out the top and we made an appointment for a week and a half later. And then I head to the laudromat.
And Monday rolls around and I get my confirmation phone call from Sears for between 1 and 5 on Tuesday for my washing machine. I explained that I was promised the morning and the Customer Service Reps response was, and I quote, "Well, that's just not going to happen now, is it?". I said it was what I was promised, and she told me that was too bad and the only way my washer was going to be fixed was if the repairman came in the afternoon. Are you kidding me? Really? Fine. So I cancel all of my afternoon plans, except for the dentist. And my grandma had to cancel her plans so she could be here just in case.
One through five comes and goes...not a phone call, not a technician. We call at about 5:15 ish to find out what is going on. We are told that the tech is about 3 stops behind and he will be at our house shortly. My question was, if I was stop number 3, how did he get 3 stops behind...had he just not started yet? The rep on the phone said that we would receive a phone call within 30 minutes. Now, mind you, it was my anniversary...it wasn't looking so hot at that point. After 45 minutes, we called Sears back and they said he was coming and he would call. I explained how many things I had cancelled and that I needed to know whether or not anybody was going to show up...I didn't have confidence at that point. She said we would get a call...hmmm....I think I heard that before. After about 45 minutes, we got a call from the tech letting us know that he would be at our house soon. So I cancel my anniversary dinner...groovy.
The technician show up at 7:30. Are you kidding me? He comes, he's crabby. And I let him go to work. After 30 minutes he is done. My husband said was it easy to fix or are you just that good? He said he fixed it the easy way so he could get out of here. Yes, that is really what he said. But hey, for our trouble we got a 15 percent off coupon that was only valid FOR THAT DAY. Thhhhaaaaaannnnnkkkkkks.
We are able to make it through the next little bit with little trouble (probably because we were on vacation). But we made it back and got ready to have the cooktop replaced.
The day before I never received a confirmation call for my appointment, so I call Sears...I'm a little wary because of the washing machine. He tells me I am still on for between one and five. Okay, fine.
The next day, one and five rolls around and then leaves. As usual, no phone call, no tech. but before I can call and be huffy, the tech shows up at 5:15. He comes in and asks what happens. I explain the whole pickle scenario, and he makes a phone call. He finishes on the phone, and tells me that it is not covered. I explained no, your CSR told me it was covered. He said no it wasn't. He gave me an 800 number, tells me that it will be $1300 and leaves. So I call, I explain the situation, and tell them that I felt like I was being punished for exercising due diligence. They said, well, you broke it. So I told Sears that I wanted to cancel my service agreements. And I got transferred.
And I explained everything AGAIN and told them that I would like to cancel. And I got transferred.
And I explained everything AGAIN and was told that she could cancel everything but that I should probably talk to the National Center before I made up my mind. I told that rep that I was looking for a reason to stay. And she said well, our Service Agreements cover everything. And I said Nuh-uh. And she said, except for that. I told her that I had a problem with giving them money to treat me badly. And then I got transferred.
The next person that I talked so said they could definitely do something for me. That I shouldn't have to bear the burden of the cost by myself since I was misinformed. She put me on hold for a few minutes, and then I got transferred.
I finally end up talked to some high up on the chain dude who is in charge of something. I tell him the entire story...again. He says, that sounds to high, I will check on it and then we can figure out how to break this all up. I am on hold. He comes back and says he needs to make another call and I am on hold again. He comes back and tells me that it will be about 975 plus labor, and since it was my fault that it got broken, they couldn't do anything to help me. But to take the sting out of the cost, they would give me a 100 dollar gift card.
So basically what it all boils down to, is that 3 weeks of my life is worth 100 dollars to Sears. I politely told him I would consider his offer and get back to him. And then I hang up and let the Turrets Syndrome in my head take over. It wasn't pretty. to get a brand new unit it was any where from 1100 to 1500. Felix and I found the part for 580 and we are going to do it ourselves.
Oh yeah, when I get my 100 gift card, I am cancelling my Service Agreements and never setting foot in their store again (except to redeem my 100 gift card). Because if I have my way about it, I will do everything in my power to make Sears feel the economic crunch.
1. Sears DOES know how to take your money.
2. Sears DOES know how to keep you money.
3. Sears DOES know how to tell you what you want to hear.
4. Sears DOES NOT care what you think.
5. Sears DOES NOT value you as a customer and thinks that you and your time are completely worthless.
I think I feel better, thanks.
After our record 7 hour, 20 minute drive we were greeted by my aunt and uncle and our two new best buddies, Evie and Alex. Evie is the adorable Doberman, with the sweetest nature you have ever seen. Alex (a girl) is the alpha male...and we love her dearly.
On Friday we took a trip to Old Town, which we thoroughly enjoyed. They even had a store that sold cookie dough. They had cookies that were cooked too, but they sold cookie dough, in cups, with spoons as a snack food....that is my kind of place. then we kind of kicked it for the afternoon and got ready for the (imagine a musical crescendo) for the corn maze.
We started our evening at the pumpkin cannon. Yes, you are correct, I said cannon. And who was the first to try it...the three year old. And let me tell you, from my own experience with the canon. THAT WAS SO COOL.
Once we all had an opportunity to blow stuff up (nothing brings a family together like a pumpkin cannon and corn cob guns), we headed over to the pumpking smash. The kids are all natural athletes. And I am not so bad myself.
And after watching our group of 18 thoroughly enjoy hitting pumpkins to smithereens with a baseball bat, we headed off for the traditional hay ride. We went around learned about how the farm operated and how the individuals that lived/worked their managed it all.
After the hay ride, we sent the munchkins off for a barrel ride. A barrel ride is a unique invention, I don't know if it is indiginous to Colorado, or if the phenomenon has eeked it's way through the nation. Just remember, I am anti-social and hate to travel, I have a very limited amount of life experience to refer to.
A barrel ride is about 10 of the giant water barrels, with holes cut cut for you to climb in, and the entire lot is hooked up to an ATV and off you go for the four wheeling ride of your life. I didn't go, but I was waiting for someone to get thrown out and run over. But it didn't happen and they all survived, even though they are a little wind blown.
Here is the whole crew, right before the all important...PIG RACES.
Once we watched the champion edition of the pig races, it was time to head off to the corn maze. And you have never experienced a corn maze until you have done it with 10 kids, 6 adults (a few of which were directionally challenged), a stroller and more flashlights than we could count.
We started very enthusiastically until we realized that we were going to have to do a kid check every turn or so. But the kids were great at following directions, like the one they heard the most, "Wait here while I figure out where we are." Thank goodness for the maps that were placed every so often to tell you where you were in the giant maze.
Now, to be fair, Joe did a fabulous job leading us. Chris did an amazing job hauling all of the kids on his back when they got tired, and I did a great job hiding my claustrophobia while I was hyperventilating.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
As we noted in the first edition of Let Your Southern Shine, little boys, with little toy balls can cause irreparable damage. In this second and less humorous edition, let's just say that grown men, with toilet scrubbers, can be just as damaging.
As this is my fourteenth anniversary, I'll go light on the guy. Because let's face it, I am a lucky girl. However, it was never as clear as it was last night, who does the bulk of the household chores. (And yes, I'm a kept woman.)
My dear, sweet, kind husband, a true gem in a world of coal was cleaning the toilets, just to help me out. Unfortunately for him, sometime in the past year, I switched from flushable toilet scrubby things to the much more macho Clorox brillo pad scrubby dee-li-bobs. The Clorox dee-li-bobs are NOT flushable. I repeat, they are NOT flushable.
In all of his vast knowledge and wisdom, he waited about an hour before 'fessin up. The toilet would flush, and thankfully not overflow (as per past blogs, I have just about enough of water woes), but would drain excrutiatingly slow (there was no mo poopin' in that toilet). As it was ten o'clock in the evening, you couldn't pry me out of the house to go find a pipe snake. So it waited until morning.
Just a little side note: In a house with 6 bathrooms, why does it matter when one toilet is down for the count. Well, in my infinite wisdom, let me share. It is 25 more steps to the next nearest bathroom when you have to get up at 3:13 am and you are tripping all over the crud that was left out from the night before. Okay, I feel better, I just had to get that out.
Once the little monkeys were taken to school, I went and got my very own pipe snake. NO MORE BORROWING. In fact, I may etch my name on that sucker for a badge of honor (and maybe put a toilet sticker for each porceline menace I conquer). I was worried that it would be a harrowing, frightening experience (just like the first one).
And gratefully, it was one shove with the pipe snake and that sucker was clear. I was so proud of myself that I flushed the toilet 10 times just to admire my handiwork.
1. If your spouse is not completely familiar with the cleaning supplies....supervise the introduction between the two.
2. I'm grateful that my husband works to hard to make sure I have things to do during the day.
3. I'm starting to think I could have a real future as a plumbing apprentice.
4. I couldn't blame Caleb for the toilet disaster this time, however, I'm sure he did something last night that he got into trouble for.
5. Life goes on....even on your anniversary.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Just to be perfectly clear, I am anti-social, and proud of it...(insert expletive here) straight. If you are still wondering how I could be anti-social...just this morning I had to wait for the mailman to leave so I could go to my car. I wasn't in the mood to say hi.
Okay, back on subject. I was so excited to see so many old friends, and see their beautiful families. It was truly a blast from the past. And then I came down from the high and felt incredibly old. I think it really hit when I gave an old chum a brief 20 year history of my life. And eventually I may even let people see my phone number and address...I'm working on...this is like a 12 step program...I have to take baby steps to socialization.
I am really not very good a keeping in touch, and Christmas Cards are strictly taboo. I have come to the conclusion that Facebook was made for people like me, who prefer to email and tell stories electronically, instead of calling or even worse seeing each other face to face. Which made think of how ironic it was the website was called Facebook...hmmmm.
1. I am apparently in a very brazen mood to be sharing my anti-social behaviors on a blog.
2. Facebook is a fascinating web site.
3. I only want people to know I am alive, NOT where I am (that is why there isn't any info showing on Facebook).
4. It makes me happy to see people I care about happy.
5. This was a really lame post (but I was desperate, give me a break)
Saturday, September 6, 2008
As the end of the school year approached, it was time for the dance festival. It is a favorite time of year for us, and as usual LOADS of fun. The dance festival is great way for me to see how much they have grown and changed this year.
Savannahs' class did an awesome recreation of an early pioneer dance. It was really cute, and the girls tried really hard to get it right...the boys, not so much. But overall it turned out fantastic.