stephi's blog

One of the Many Joys of the iPhone

2010-06-28T22:12:00.000-07:00

Something about iPhones (and no, I don't have the 4G yet) is they can use up all your time and energy, sort of like an addiction/occupation/hobby. It's a little pathetic, really, that I always have my nose glued to the screen and I'm not even getting paid to do it. In fact, I'm paying Apple and AT&T to be the sucking vacuum that used to be my spare time.
One of the most consuming things I've found is an app, called “Words With Friends”, but don't let it fool you by how innocuous it sounds. It single-handedly has put a wrench in all my ongoing projects (except for raising my children) by causing me to practically have the phone surgically attatched to my hand.
For any Trekkies out there, I would compare this game to an episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation” (much to my husband's chagrin). Remember the one where Wesley sees everyone on board playing a game constantly? He refuses to play it because he realizes it is part of an evil alien plot designed to distract everyone while the aforementioned take over the Enterprise. Silly, I know, but I hold to the analogy.
Now WWF (as I affectionately call it) is basically an electronic “Scrabble for Idiots”. Not to say you have to be an idiot to play it, but it definitely makes Scrabble more palatable. Firstly, it has a built-in dictionary and won't even allow you to play a word unless it is a word. My husband thinks the dictionary is a little too liberal in its word allowance, but that's not what bothers me. What is a problem for me is that I keep trying totally obscure letter combinations until I find one that works. And let me tell you, that can take a long time. I never realized how many combinations of the alphabet I could make that aren't actually words in the English language.
The upside is, there are many words that are in the vast memory banks of the game's dictionary that I never would have guessed. After a successful such pairing of letters (what joy!), I flip right over to my dictionary.com app to brief myself on the meaning. Now this exercise is strictly for my self-education, because there's none of that embarrassing “challenge” stuff going on. In fact, there's some major face-saving anonymity (in case you have an incredibly low-scoring turn) because you only know your opponent by their screen name. Unless, of course, if you actually decide to play a game with one of your “friends”, you may run the risk of not being friends anymore, because those games can get a little heated.
The second reason the game can fall into the “idiots” category is that you can take as long as you want for a turn. This can turn out to be incredibly irritating if your “friend” decides to take multiple days before they take their turn and you're dying to finish the game. But it can also be exceedingly helpful if you have a whole day where you can't play because you're throwing up or if you are stumped and have to find a word by trial and error, which like I mentioned before, can take hours.
I almost feel guilty, obsessing over the 26 letters of the English alphabet, using the poor defenseless things as pawns in my insatiable desire to win. Who would have known that he ABC's of my youth could use up so much of my discretionary time as an adult in my quest for supremacy? Just take my advice and don't assume that the mastery of WWF transfers over to the real-life game of Scrabble, because it doesn't. But that's a story for another time...

Dave's Recovery

2010-04-23T16:32:00.000-07:00

Dave had another fairly invasive 5 hour surgery a week-and-a-half ago. They had to remove the screws they had put into his sacrum (part of his pelvis) a week after his accident and then plug in some bone grafts and put in new screws. His pelvis had not formed a "bony union", or in other words, it had never healed and he's had a lot of pain in the last 9 months. We're hoping this will be the fix he needs.
The tricky part is that he can't put any weight on his left side for 6 weeks--standing, walking or sitting. He's getting a lot of bed rest right now, whether he likes it or not (and he's sick of it by now), but we're trying to be patient so that it will heal for real (hey, that rhymed!)

You Know Things Are Bad When...

2010-04-22T05:05:00.000-07:00

You wake up during the night to go to the bathroom. Remembering in your sleepy haze that your bathroom toilet is clogged, you stumble to another one, only to find that it is clogged too.

Word Coinage

2010-04-21T05:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, you heard it here first. This is a word that I created to describe a predicament I've found myself in a couple of times. Maybe you'll never need to use it. I hope you don't.
BLOGUMENT--When you get in an argument with someone in your life over something you posted on your blog or else something they posted on theirs.

You Know Things are Bad When...

2010-04-20T04:58:00.000-07:00

While driving the preschool carpool, I hear one 4-year-old girl say to my son, "Aidan, why is your car so messy?"

I've missed blogging!

2010-01-22T19:46:00.000-08:00

"The return of good times is not wholly a matter of money. There is a prosperity of living which is quite as important as prosperity of the pocketbook...It is not enough to be willing to make the best of things as they are. Resignation will get us nowhere. We must build what amounts to a new country. We must revive the ideals of the founders. We must learn the new values of money. It is a time for pioneerinng--to create a new security for the home and the family...Where we were specialists in spending, we are becoming specialists in living."
--Ladies' Home Journal October 1932

Soon it will be the 6 month anniversary of Dave's accident and we're still trying to get on track. We do have a new kind of normal. It consists of mom and dad sitting in bed watching TV together a lot and not ever going anywhere. Last week the whole family went to the library and got ice cream and my kids couldn't stop talking about how fun it was to do that.
I'm sorry about my hiatus from blogging. I wondered if I'd ever start again, but I missed it.
I read the above quote today and it really captured my attention. It was in a book that was written 15 years ago, and was originally printed in 1932, yet it seemed very apt for our times. Amazing how cyclical history is.

Our Christmas Letter (in case you missed it)

2010-01-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

This year has been an amazing journey for our family. We’ve taken part in some highs and lows in the extreme. As you probably know, Dave nearly lost his life this last July while he was riding his bike up the canyon and a delivery truck struck him from behind. After being life-flighted to the hospital, he spent the next two weeks in intensive care and successive weeks in rehabilitation. It was a real celebration when he finally got to come home—though we kept it low key—and we all took turns caring for him in the weeks that followed.
Dave had a lot of pain and struggle, but worked admirably hard to first relearn how to breathe and swallow on his own, on to caring for himself, and at this point trying to walk normally again (he’s been off crutches for 2 weeks!) and going back to work on a limited basis. Dave has had immense faith and unstoppable optimism that has helped him endure what he’s gone through and come close to his pre-accident abilities. Right now his challenge is to build up his energy reserves despite constant pain.
Stephanie has had to go back to basics in caring for family and home, sacrificing some of her valued discretionary time. Blogs, quilting, and writing have had to be put aside hopefully on a temporary basis. Wonderful children and help from so many different people are what has gotten her through the last five months. She is continually amazed at the outpouring of prayers and service the family has received.
Jameson is 13 and in eighth grade. He’s stepped it up this year in grades and help around the house. He’s been a great support to his mom, since he’s home most of the time except for scout campouts occasionally. He amazes us almost everyday with his kitchen creations and has become a good cook.
Sarah is 10 and growing fast, even though she says she wants to stay 10 forever. She’s very social and a fabulous piano player; not to mention a great big sister and very nurturing to her mom and dad, too, by anticipating everyone’s needs.
Nathan is 8 and got baptized this year. His creativity is overwhelming when he starts telling a story and can’t stop, even when his mom has to leave the room. He is super-responsible with his homework and enjoys practicing piano. He is a joy to have around.
Aidan is 5 and is always busy. If he’s not contemplating the universe, he’s asking us impossible questions. He loves preschool, but accosts his mother everyday about when he can start kindergarten. He’s unique and we feel lucky to have him in our family.
Alexander is almost 2 and the perfect toddler—complete with sticky kisses and the occasional tantrum. He loves animals and babies, is starting to speak English (instead of sign-language) and constantly gets comments over his cuteness wherever we go. Thanks to his demand, we just changed our status to that of first-time-dog-owners. We have an 11-week shih-tzu puppy named Pirate.
We feel so blessed by the Lord to still be together as a family. He has lifted us up through this process, as has the outpouring of love by all of you. Thank you, and have a Merry Christmas!

(Written a week before Christmas. The picture is from last June.)

Update on Dave

2009-08-30T20:49:00.001-07:00

We've had a pretty good week, more or less. Dave continues to tackle the stairs a couple times a day and do some exercises at home. He still is really positive.
A couple scares this week involved Dave having a bloody nose for a few days that we couldn't stop. Since he is on blood thinners, this worried me a bit. We were at the spine surgeon's office and they told us to take Dave to the ER, but it finally stopped, so we didn't have to. Dave also had pain in his chest, which made him think of a blood clot (we had stopped giving him the blood thinners because of his bloody nose). One doctor said there's about a 100% chance that pelvic fractures get blood clots, so that frightened us. Luckily he threw up and felt better, though. Fun stuff.
Dave's x-rays on his back and pelvis looked good and he hopes to be putting some weight on his left foot in a couple weeks. He wears his back brace all the time (this makes showers interesting), even at night usually, so he looks a little like Magneto, but hey, whatever it takes not to have back surgery.
One downer is that Dave has some nerve damage in his left leg, which causes hypersensitivity and a constant burning in his foot. I try to massage his leg as much as I can because the tactile sensation is good for the nerves, but if I touch it wrong--say, harder than a feather-swipe--it hurts him.
The sheets really bother his foot too. Now, there are two kinds of people in the world: those who wear socks to bed at night and those who would never do such a thing. Dave has had to convert from the latter to the former because of this nerve damage.
Dr. Chardack did say that the pain could go away in 4 to 6 months OR...12 to 18 months OR...Never. Not the most encouraging, but at least he's honest.
Dave's scabs and incisions are starting to heal, finally. He never had any on his face, so he looks like himself. People are always surprised at how good he looks. He does have some good scars on his knees and elbows and various other locations where he got road/rock rash. That actually might look cool to other cyclists, though. It's the incisions that look like a mad scientist was let loose with a scalpel. But the worst damage with that is more to Dave's vanity. Besides, they'd probably only be visable when Dave's wearing a speedo, which he hasn't since high school.
It has been incredible all the service we have received as a family. People have come up with things to help us that I never would have thought of myself but ended up being desperately grateful for. I truly think many of you have been inspired by God, and we thank you so much.

The411 on Dave

2009-08-24T20:30:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow it will be a week since Dave got home. I guess I'm a little busier now that he's home--I haven't even updated my favorite people on FB and my blog!
Dave is trying so hard to get better and have a good attitude but it takes so long. It is a miracle that he came home from the hospital when he did, or even that he came home at all. I owe that to everyone's faith and prayers and I'm so grateful. Now we just have to be patient.
Dave has 4 dr. appts this week, so we'll see how the healing is going. He tries his best to tolerate the noise and confusion a house of 5 children creates and the children are so happy to have him here. I feel the added stress on my time and energy too, and I appreciate all of you who have helped alleviate that--both since he's been home and the 3 weeks previous to that.
I'm still reeling from the shock of almost losing Dave. My 8-yr-old was just telling me tonight that he just didn't feel like he could see his dad when he was having "eternal bleeding". Luckily, it was "internal" not "eternal", but I know what he meant, it felt that way. That 10 days at the beginning was like an eternity.
Dave tries to come downstairs a couple times a day with his crutches and then sits in his wheelchair. Sometimes he has meals with us. It's been great.
Most of the time he just has to lie in bed and heal. He's becoming an expert in several fields from the Discovery Channel documentaries he's been watching and no one knows what's going on in the news like Dave. It's good the TV can keep him company since I can't always just be hanging out with him (I wish I could). Hopefully I'll remember to update you all after his dr. visits.

Collateral Damage 2

2009-08-13T20:53:00.001-07:00

There has been some other things that have deteriorated besides Dave's health and the children's peace of mind in the last 2 1/2 weeks. One is my brain.
For example, I set out tonight after getting back from 8 hours at the hospital (I spent 11 yesterday) to Aidan's preschool orientation. All went fine there, except that I didn't have him with me to meet his teachers, then I decided to go to the grocery store for the first time since Dave's accident. I felt pretty confident that it would be an efficient, quick trip since I didn't have any children with me. I decided I'd also get the kids school supplies. Easy, right? Wrong.
I left for home an hour later, exhausted and bewildered, with most of the school supplies, but little else (I did get cottage cheese to eat). Something about being in SuperWalmart brought out a decision-making impairment, or maybe it's just a depletion.

Another deterioration is my plants. My back deck hanging flowers have croaked beyond rescusitation. I just couldn't bring myself to water them. I finally retired them to the grass so I wouldn't see them everytime I looked outside and be reminded of my inability to save them. I don't dare check my vegetable garden. It might push me over the edge.
Our credit is something else that is in danger of deteriorating. I got the $10,000 bill for life flight yesterday. If I can navigate the mine field of insurance it will eventually get paid. I got an anesthesia bill for Dave less than a week after the accident. Quick turn around time if you ask me. I guess they wanted to get first in line for payment. My little brother, who had cancer, said he had a shot a couple times during treatment that the medical personnel called "liquid gold" because it cost $6,000 a pop. Dave and I were wondering if part of the cost was that a leprachaun had to deliver it. Whew! Although--if life flight and "liquid gold" saved Dave's and Scott's lives, who's to put a price on medical treatment for a human life? Oh yeah...the government.

As far as Dave's concerned:
Dave was moved into the rehab program yesterday. It's like hospital haven compared to the ICU and the 11th floor Dave just came from (Free Lorna Doone's! All the chocolate milk and diet coke you can drink!) They're actually pretty laid back and nice up there on the 12th floor.
They finally stopped giving Dave oxygen and he'll have a couple more days of his IV. He's doing quite well and working hard on getting back some mobility.
In this new program, they have physical therapy, speech therapy and occupational therapy sessions through out the day. He can have visitors after 4 PM or anytime on Sunday. The physical therapist was so impressed with what Dave could do today, he said Dave might only need to be there a week or less.
So we're hopeful about his progress and thank you all for your love and support! My kids get back on Saturday--my deteriorating brain does not bode well for them. Wish me luck!

8-10-09

2009-08-11T21:19:00.000-07:00

Dave's white blood cell count has been coming down the last few days, which means the pneumonia and staph infections are getting better. They also have been very aggressive with his anti-biotics.
He has had speech therapists monitoring how he is swallowing and his eating is getting back on track. They took out his feeding tube a day ago, so now he is getting all his nutrition through what he eats.
They've been working on his physical therapy everyday now, too. I got to walk outside of his room with him while he used a walker.
A physical therapist evaluated Dave for an intensive rehab program they have at the same hospital and they decided he would be a good candidate. So he will be moving floors to that program in the next day or so. I think it will be good--he'll have 3 hours of physical therapy a day.
Dave also had his pelvis and back x-rayed today to see how they are healing, and everything seems to be on track.
Dave is handling everything with grace a positive attitude. He always is kind to those who are caring for him and working hard to accomplish what they ask. I am so impressed with him!
My MIL and FIL took my children to WA to be with their cousins this week. I'm so grateful for their help and sacrifice, they are the best in-laws in the world. Thank you, Doug and Janeen for being willing to have all 11 kids this week!

8-7-09

2009-08-11T21:18:00.000-07:00

Well, two great things have happened in the last couple of days. As I mentioned, Dave got extubated yesterday and started to talk and take sips of water. He also started working with the physical therapist. Tonight he finally got out of ICU and me and the kids were able to visit him.
We had understood that there was no restrictions in visiting him, but then the nurse came in and demanded whether we knew that Dave had pneumonia. Uh....yeah? Well, we were supposed to be wearing masks! We quickly accomodated her request and looked really funny for the rest of our visit. Dave asked us to bring him frozen yogurt, which he ended up eating all of, so hopefully that will be ok. He looks really good, other than having lost some weight.
I asked him if he remembered much from his stay in the ICU, and except for the day after his accident, he didn't really. His mind made up some pretty weird hallucinations to explain how his body felt, meanwhile. I guess his mind is pretty creative.
I'm feeling very positive about the future and extremely grateful that Dave was not killed. I heard that his vertebrae was fractured 25%. If it had been any higher, paralysis or significant nerve damage would have occured, so I'm counting my blessings. I don't think Dave has heard how young and in-shape and athletic he is during his lifetime as much as he's getting from the physical therapists, doctors and other specialists. It might go to his head. But the point being that all these factors will help him heal and hopefully bounce back quickly.

It's Been a Week

2009-08-04T21:10:00.001-07:00

Eight days in the Shock/Trauma ICU. That sounds like a movie or maybe a song.
This has been Dave's best day since the accident happened a week ago. He actually seemed like Dave again. He smiled several times and was even mouthing things to me around his ventilator. I'm a terrible lip-reader apparently, because I couldn't figure anything out that he said. His nurse, on the other hand was quite good at it. She tried to give me a crash course, but I think you have to have a talent for it.
I did make out Dave asking me what hospital he was in.
I told him a few things that he was too out of it to understand until now, like his mission president and his wife called. Also, I told him I've been messing around with all our finances and getting new passwords. He seemed like it didn't faze him. Of course he had some pain meds through his IV, so who knows.
The last update I wrote was one of my worst days. Yesterday was the other one. I couldn't even talk to anyone last night. My oldest son called my parents and told them they needed to get over here. He said I needed them. They were just leaving the hospital from seeing Dave, so they came over and talked with me a little and we all said a prayer together. I'm glad that Jameson knew what his mom needed, even if I didn't.
It sounds cliche, but it really is an emotional rollercoaster.
So, Dave still has pneumonia and we found out today that he has a staph infection in his lungs as well, but his plates and screws are all in the right places in his pelvis it sounds like. The next goal is to get his breathing good enough so that he can ditch the stupid ventilator (sorry, I know it serves a good purpose, but he hates it) and then get out of ICU. It sounds like they won't consider extubating him for a couple days, but I have my fingers crossed.

Day Four and Five

2009-08-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

I don't know whether to give just the facts or the version with all the drama.
I guess if I start talking about yesterday I have to include some of the drama.
My 13-yr. old and I walked into Dave's room to hear a tech swearing because of a reading he got on pressure in Dave's abdomen. If there is too much pressure (fluids, air) it can cause certain organs to shut down. To solve this problem, they simply open the stomach up and can leave it open for up to 2 weeks with sterile dressings. Well. That freaked me out, since his readings were high enough to do this, but they decided against that and tried other ways to solve it (which worked, because it was better today).
Dave also started coughing spells that were scary, because he can't breath during them. The nurse has to stick a long tube down his breathing tube to suction out his lungs. There was one white-knuckle episode that did my son in. He asked to go home (which is saying alot because he spent the whole day there the day before and loved it). We got into the car and he finally broke down, saying he hadn't wanted to worry dad by crying in his room. We had to sit and hold each other for a little while before I could drive.
I went back again last night and his coughing was still bad. The respitory therapist said it sounded like it was turning into pneumonia.
Apparently she was right, because they started treating him for that today.
Yesterday I was rubbing lotion on his feet, trying to do something that might feel nice. He nodded that it did, so I moved up to his hands to do the same thing. I worked on his right hand and he started moving his left hand around enough that I finally figured out that he wanted me to stop. I asked, "Does that hurt?" and he nodded. I thought it was just because it was so swollen--it looks like the hands of an extremely obese person. Today, (since I'm a little slow on the uptake) I realized his hand might be fractured. We wouldn't know, since no x-rays have been done on his limbs.
Today was very hard for me to see him. His bleeding seems to have stopped and his collapsed lung is doing well, but he just looks worse. It's probably the pneumonia.
It made me more emotional today and I just wanted to turn around and walk out--I just didn't know if I could handle it. Some of the mornings since this has happened I wake up and think that it's all a bad dream. Jameson asked that of me the first morning after the accident and I ignored him, thinking he was joking. But when he asked 2 more times, I had to tell it all to him again--that it was our new reality and it made him cry.
Well, that's how I feel sometimes too, but then I think that Dave doesn't have the luxury of thinking it's a bad dream, because if he ever wakes up, the pain is always present and excruciating.
I ran the risk of obliterating my relationship with Dave's trauma orthopedic specialist by telling him that I wanted another opinion on Dave's upcoming surgery. What a cool guy--instead of nursing a bruised ego--he explained, in detail, AGAIN, the surgery to me. Even when I told him I was satisfied, he called me right back and arranged for a session at the hospital tomorrow to explain it to me AGAIN, with a model of a pelvis. Pretty exceptional for a surgeon.
I love you all.
Keep praying.
I'll keep in touch.

3rd Day Since Dave's Accident

2009-07-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's taken me so long to update about Dave. I appreciate everyone for their encouraging words and prayers. I know that he has been given Divine help and faith works miracles! So many people have offered help and the well-oiled-machine of our ward has been incredible.
Yesterday:
I packed up all the kids to bring them to see Dave. Even though children under 12 aren't allowed in the ICU, the nurse agreed that it would be good to see that their dad is still here even though he's hurt. The other nurses almost didn't allow Sarah, my 10 yr. old, but I talked them into it. My 8 yr. old didn't want to see his dad in that condition, so he stayed in the waiting room (which I understand), and after Jameson and Sarah came out, I smuggled in my 4-yr. old and 1-yr old (it's hard to smuggle in a 1-yr. old!). They were there for just a moment because it was a little weird and frightening for them.
My older kids cried, but I think it did help them.
Unfortunately, Dave had to get a feeding tube yesterday, because he was having the respirator longer than a day. I was a little disappointed about him having it until Sat. but encouraged he was scheduled to have surgery on Friday.
After my MIL drove them home to be babysat by people in our ward (Thank you Stephanie and Adrian!), I stayed with Dave as did my FIL. At one point, I was feeling down and the nurse noticed. She's a fun Brit who is soft-spoken but tough as nails. She was telling me about the antics of many of the families who are there in the waiting room that sounded very Jerry Springer show-esque.
She said they sometimes start a major family fight in the waiting room, so security has to be called in. Other families can't even show their faces without being escorted out. And since this is the shock-trauma unit, they get all kinds of interesting injuries--like attempted murder victims and such. She says it sometimes happens that the wife, ex-wife, and girlfriend of a guy will show up all at the same time and the medical personnel have to deal w/ that situation instead of their patients.
She also gave me a talking-to about Dave not having visitors other than family as long as he's in ICU, and even then not visiting him all the time, so he can rest.
I was there from 9 to 10 last night and then back again at 8:45 this morning. His eyes would open if I talked to him, but he was pretty out of it--which is good news, since that means he's not feeling the pain or irritated by the breathing tube.
He had taken a couple steps back today--his lung was worse, so they had to switch him to a new kind of respirator that will help keep his lung inflated. They said that sometimes happens when it's so bruised.
He also needed some blood transfusions this morning, meaning that the bleeding hasn't stopped in his pelvis. And I just found out a minute ago that the orthopedic surgeon rescheduled his pelvic surgery to Monday as a result. I guess I don't want him taking any chances, so I have to accept that.
I know Dave is a healthy guy and the doctors are optimistic. The nurse says he's very healthy compared to most their patients--because he hasn't had at least one organ failure. That's comforting, I guess.
I love and appreciate all of you!

If You've Heard About Dave...

2009-07-29T07:16:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't heard about Dave. He was cycling up Little Cottonwood Canyon yesterday morning before work and a truck clipped him, sending him down a drop of 10 feet, from what I've heard.
He was life-flighted by University of Utah helicopter to IMC in Murray, Utah.
I was called by a social worker 15 minutes after he arrived, telling me about the accident and saying I needed to get to the hospital.
Dave's mom and I arrived and the social worker assigned to us brought us into a room and told us what they knew of Dave's injuries, which were a broken pelvis, a fractured vertebrae, a collapsed lung, and internal bleeding. She said with a broken pelvis there is a lot of bleeding and that was what they needed to asses the extent of.
When they finally let us see him, he was still in the ER and had a trauma team running around working on him. He had oxygen on, but could answer a few of my questions. Mostly he was asking for medication for the pain, which he said was getting worse. I could tell by his face having no color that he was losing a lot of blood. They gave him about 10 units of blood altogether.
His trauma phsycian came up to us and said, "He seems okay because he can talk to you and his face looks alright, but he's not. His bleeding could be life-threatening and his injuries are severe. He has 5 different teams of specialists working on him, including a spine specialist and an orthopedic surgeon for his pelvis."
After trying to stabilize him and giving him a respirator and putting him out, they got ready to send him to the angiolab, where they would check what damage there was to his veins and arteries and do some other procedures to help his bleeding. Before they wheeled him out, my dad and Dave's dad were able to administer a blessing to Dave amid the chaos, which was very comforting.
We just had to wait for a few hours after that, in the ICU waiting room. When I wasn't on the phone, I was observing the assortment of people who came through. I haven't seen such diverse people in a long time. Our Bishop and his wife and a friend, John Watson came and waited with us.
Finally they updated us, saying they couldn't operate on his pelvis until they got the bleeding under control, and for now they would put an external cage to contain his pelvis until the bleeding stopped. We got to see him for a moment before they took him into surgery. He couldn't speak, but spelled a few things in him mom's hand--one of which was how much he disliked his breathing tube. We told him he was on Micheal Jackson's drug of choice right then and he smiled and gave thumbs up, so his sense of humor was still intact!
I was able to see him again later, once they had got his pelvis cage on, and he was pretty sedated, but there wasn't a bunch of people working on him anymore, so that was good that he was stable enough that he could be left alone.
When I left about 11 last night he was going to get a CT scan and hopefully after get his breathing tube out. The nurse left a message on my cell phone that they hadn't done it yet as of 5:30 this morning. I'm heading over there soon, so hopefully by the time I get there, he'll have it out and be able to talk.

Dos and Don'ts of Traveling to Cancun ( According to my experience)

2009-07-26T22:15:00.000-07:00

--DO bring your own food if you're flying American Airlines. Everything, including peanuts, costs money! (Nothing free on a 3 1/2 hour flight, except for drinks, which I refused on principle!)
--DON'T fly into Dallas on a cloudy day, expecting to catch a connecting flight in 4 hours--it might be cancelled because some genius thinks there's going to be a storm when it wasn't even raining!
--DON'T whine about a 4 hour layover, because it could be worse, much worse. Your flight might get cancelled and leave you stranded for 9 hours, wondering what you're going to do.
If you are stranded in an airport for 9 hours: DO make sure it's at Dallas Fort Worth Airport. It's an awesome airport--the best of the 5 we just visited!
--DO be nice to the ticket agent you've been waiting to talk to for an hour, even though her company just messed up your vacation. Remember: she holds your fate in her hands!
--DON'T schedule your trip through Travelocity. This is what they do when you are stranded in another city and missing the first day and night of your vaction that you payed them for: NOTHING.
--DO watch Jane Austen movies on your laptop to soothe your nerves while you are stranded in the airport for 9 hours.
--DO be nice to the baggage agent in the Atlanta airport, even when you fly in at midnight and are exhausted. Maybe talk to her about the nursing degree she's studying for. Because meanwhile someone might come in from your cancelled flight with a hotel voucher and she might decide to give you one too.
--DO sleep at the Sheraton in Atlanta if you only have 4 hours--it will be a comfortable 4 hours.
--DO become friends with your fellow stranded travellers. It makes for good conversations.
--DO fly Delta to Cancun. They are nicer than American.
--DO tell the baggage claim lady in the Cancun airport if your luggage is lost. She speaks English and supposedly will try to find it.
--DON'T talk to men behind little podiums in the Cancun airport. You might think they will help you, but they are just trying to sell you something.
--DO make sure that in looking for a resort where there are no children, that you pick an "adults only" but not an adult resort where clothing is optional. We were careful to pick the right kind, but a few women at our resort got a little confused and thought it was the other kind. That was interesting.
--DO go with your best friend. You and he will be spending a lot of time together.
--DO stay at the Excellence Playa Mujeres. It was very cool.
--DO keep bugging the front desk about calling the airport when you still haven't gotten your luggage after 2 days!
--Do pack a couple of outfits and a swimsuit in your carry-on, (and maybe a little makeup) just in case!
--DO specify that you want your Pina Colada "sin alcohol".
--DO wear lots of sunscreen
--DO REAPPLY!
--DON'T get a tour guide at Chichen Itza that likes to give the "National Inquirer" version of events. You'll be hearing a lot about aliens, crystal skulls, and "the star child" if you do!
--DO have a great time!
--DO have your children stay up till you get home (even if it's 11 pm) so you can tell them how much you missed them!

Note: I was refining this post about to get pictures on it when Dave had his accident. I just decided to post it anyway so I could remember our trip, even though it feels like a million years ago.)

I Haven't Kicked the Bucket (in case you were wondering)

2009-07-17T12:31:00.000-07:00

A notorious blog-lurker and dear friend, Kim Conrad, reminded me today that I had better post something, and I agree. So keep your shirt on, Kim, and keep your fingers crossed that I can think of something to say.
I've been writing like a chicken with my head cut off and avoiding blogs like the plague. It's not that I'm under the weather, it's just I'm keeping my nose to the grindstone on this writing thing.
I don't think it's spilling the beans to mention that I'm writing a book. But you'll be in hot water if you ask me about it because a watched pot never boils. Sometimes I wish I'd gotten the ball rolling years earlier on this, but that's water under the bridge, now, and I hope it's possible to teach an old dog new tricks. Nothing ventured, nothing gained!
My summer has been par for the course, with lots of extended family and all my kids home. I was off my rocker for a few days after 2 weeks of family reunions, but I rode it out and was able to get a handle on it.
I'll make no bones about it: I won't be too sad when the kids go back to school because sometimes we have a lot of monkey business going on around here. It will be hard for the kids, though, to face the music since they've been used to living footloose and fancy-free.
I'm a little on tenterhooks because Dave and I are leaving for south-of-the-border in two days and I'm worried that leaving might rub my two youngest children the wrong way, who are pretty tied to the apron strings. Not to mention, all I need to do to get ready is nothing to sneeze at. I don't want to be a stick-in-the-mud, though, I think all those beaches will be a sight for sore eyes. And my better half and I deserve a top-drawer vacation after being head-over-heels for the last 15 years.
Well, I'll call it a day, but thanks for letting me chew the fat!

(Note: I sincerely apologize if you hate idioms. If you feel like cooking my goose now, I wouldn't blame you!)

Near Future Technology

2009-06-01T12:33:00.000-07:00

Pride of Ownership

2009-05-10T21:24:00.000-07:00

So I planted a garden yesterday, and I'm pretty pleased with myself. The garden itself is pretty small, but my pride of ownership is HUGE. I guess you could make the argument that I can't technically own another living thing--I'm just a steward over it, but whatever. I have high hopes that I won't let this one get strangled by weeds (I kind of have a survival of the fittest mentality when it comes to my yard), or dried out (it is in a direct line of the sprinkler), because I'm really excited about having fresh vegetables this year without buying them at the grocery store.

dave and I were assisted in our planting duties by the two A boys--aidan and Alex. they thought they had died and gone to heaven that we let them play in the dirt for such a long time. Aidan ran around re-burying the earthworms Dave's shovel turned over and Alex sat in the corner of the garden box chuckling to himself and "petting" rolly-pollys. He also started feeling Zen-like and decided to become one with the earth by laying face-down in the soil. I think he would have been happy if i had planted him too. I'm going to look back at my resolutions for the year and see if raise a garden is on there, but if it isn't, I'm adding it...NOW.

Beware of Imposters

2009-04-23T21:52:00.000-07:00

I thought I would share a troubling obsession I've had for years now, in the hope that it could help someone else--or just amuse you. I actually cannot hide it anymore, since my Mother-in-law witnessed my relapse--yes, the whole embarrassing episode-- a couple days ago.

My MIL had just stopped by after leaving the cannery to bring some things she'd packed for me. I was showing her into my immaculate (snort) kitchen, when the light came in through the window just right and reflected off an M&M sitting on my counter. I could not tell what color it was from the glare, but I knew that silhouette, I thought, having been a devout M&M fan since I was young. I popped it in my mouth, and started to talk to my MIL. This was a bad idea on several fronts: first, you should not speak with food in your mouth, it's rude; second, I'm on Weight Watchers right now and have a strict moratorium on BLTs (Bites, Licks, and Tastes); but worst of all, my unerring M&M radar was off, and it wasn't an M&M at all, but an Advil I had put on the counter for my sick daughter to take earlier. I, of course realized, too late, that she NEVER DID take that medicine, and my MIL got to see a series of funny looks cross my face previous to me stopping mid-crunch and repeatedly spitting in the sink.
You now get a feeling for the seriousness of the situation. I am an unfortunate victim of "Candy Look-A-Like-tis". I'm not saying I didn't bring this on myself. I have. I'm too hasty and too indiscriminate with what I will throw in my mouth (hence the WW).
Like the time my 2-year-old son spilled some Willy Wonka Nerds. I immediately got down and started surgically picking up the neon-bright nuggets that were on the kitchen floor, ignoring all the other crumbs that were also there. When my son realized I was going to eat them instead of throwing them away, he warned me that I had told him not to eat food off the floor. Discrediting him because of his age (How I wish I had listened! Wisdom knows no age.), I proceeded to tip my head back and drop them in my mouth. He looked at me with unease, then alarm, as I rushed to the sink and washed my mouth out with water because some of those tasty morsels turned out to be dried Play-Doh. Now... I'm grateful that they make that stuff non-toxic, but trust me, if you eat any, it tastes pretty toxic.
So next time you see some kid eating cotton candy outside, and it looks pretty good: just walk away. Because if you stay and see the wind snatch some out of his hand and blow it down the street, you might risk picking it up and placing it on your tongue. That's when you realize what looked like spun sugar and should melt in your mouth, is actually dirty cotton (not that I know from experience--at least not my adult experience).

I do have a friend who has also had an episode with this disorder--her name is Connie, and her story is so disgusting I decided not to go there. But if you want to, ask her about it.

Everyone's Nickel and Diming

2009-03-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

Today I went the the gym to do a spin class. I was running late, so I rushed into the nest with my 4 and 1-yr-old in tow, to drop them off. Inside the door I glanced at a cute girl in workout clothes squatting on the floor. She briefly looked up at me and looked down again. I continued on to the counter where I signed my two boys in and wrote their names on stickers to identify them. I also hung their coats up, since it is a chilly day. All the while, I was conscious of this girl still crouched behind me. As I was saying goodbye to my children, I started paying attention to the people around me talking to this girl. They were saying, "Maybe you should lay off the nails," or "Do you need help with that?" I finally turned around in time to see her straighten up, her face red with embarrassment. I looked down to where she had been; there was a nickel laying on the ground. I realized she had been trying to pick up the nickel that whole time!

"Oh, I've heard of this before--someone must have glued that down," I thought. "Or maybe she just glued it down for a practical joke."

After thinking this, to my amazement, I saw another woman swoop down and pick the nickel right up and hand it to the girl, saying, "You've got to use the side of your fingers."
Confusing, I know. And although it seems like a set up for a blond joke, it isn't. This really happened and the girl had brown hair. Apparently, her acrylic nails made picking up the nickel nearly impossible.

Note: I'm not surewhat this says about people who are members of my athletic club (which shall remain nameless, but anyone who lives in Draper knows which one). But it leaves me with a rash of questions. Do I really want to workout next to these people? Am I guilty by association? Do I want to keep my membership at an institution such as this? Was this a sign about renewing my membership that expires tomorrow?

Car Trouble

2009-03-15T16:47:00.000-07:00

I love my new car we bought last summer. I just can't drive it apparently. I've had two, yes (2), incidents in the last 3 months where I backed into a parked car. The first was on Christmas Day when I backed into my husband's BMW that was parked in our driveway. Then a couple weeks ago, I backed into a parked car in my sister's townhouse development. It was parked on a red curb, but that's no excuse, I know. Well, the damage didn't look too bad to me (although, from what they charged the body repair shop thought so!), but after repairing my husband's car and the other girl's car, I didn't think we could afford to repair ours. As you can see, there was a yucky dent and some scratches on my back bumper.

The weird thing is, I went to get a quote on my car's repair about a week and half after the accident and when I looked at it, the dent was gone and just the scratches were there. I didn't pop out the dent and neither did my husband. Did someone else do it for us, or did it pop out itself? The mystery remains, but I am grateful it's gone. The quote on just the scratches was over $500, so I probably won't be repairing anytime soon. Oh well.

Don't Leave Dad Home Alone With The Kids

2009-03-13T22:40:00.000-07:00

When I got home from book club last night this is what I saw posted on my husband's facebook. Almost all incriminating evidence was gone by the time I got home. Thank goodness for cameras!

The Three A's: Allergies, Asthma, and...Aidan?

2009-03-08T22:05:00.000-07:00

So diseases have families too, apparently. Allergies, asthma, and eczema have a similar gene pool, or something like that. All I know is that we have all three in our gene pool. If one of your children have one of them, it's likely that another one of those fun afflictions will pop up in your family.

The handsome guy on the right, Jameson, has horrible allergies to animals and hay fever. That cutie in the middle (you know, the one who looks like a model?), Nate, has asthma and the mischievous one on the left, Aidan, has eczema.

So last week I had a whole new respect for science projects because I had a living, breathing one under my roof. This project is 4 and likes to lick his cheeks a lot. After warning him it would cause a rash, he said, "Mom, I try not to, but my tongue likes to do it!" His first, but probably not his last, experience with breaking a bad habit.

The rash started out red, then spread up his face and down his neck. His whole face was red and sand papery. Around his mouth was cracked and bleeding. After getting a call from his preschool to verify that my son was not a contagious leper, I finally dragged him into the Doctor, deciding that this was not tongue-related anymore. She verified this was eczema and it would keep spreading until I broke the cycle. She prescribed a whole arsenal of medications so we could stop it before it turned into an infection (like he previously got on his foot from eczema--total nightmare). I changed my laundry detergent and dryer sheets (liquid fabric softener is better). I was giving him oral anti-histamines and numerous creams, gels, and anything else I could smear on his face that might help. She told me to put one kind on one side of his face and another kind on the other side to see after a couple days which had more impact. I envisioned a Phantom-of-the-Opera-type look and decided to put them both all over his face anyway. The Doctor also told me, that contrary to popular belief, bathing every day actually helps and won't dry him out more as long as you moisturize really well. So after his bath I slathered him up with lotion better than a pig in the rodeo. Unfortunately I did the same thing with my 1-year-old and spent the next 10 minutes trying to get a grip on him enough to wrestle him to the ground for diapering.

Every morning I would wake up wondering, what will my child's face look like today? It was pretty bad. After a couple of days it had spread to the top of his back and chest, but I could tell I was winning the battle, if not the war, because his face was starting to clear up. It looks like this round I've got things sort of under control, but I could almost hear that nasty rash whispering as it faded away, "I'll be back!" with Austrian accent and everything.

What Was I Thinking?

2009-02-14T21:20:00.000-08:00

Thanks to my dear friend, Tami, I got this from her blog. I am SO excited! Read and enter this fabulous contest...you know you want to!

The deal:The first 5 people to respond to this post will receive something made by me. To you! It will be my choice and made especially for you. Just so we’re on the same page, here are . . . The details:
No guarantees you will feel absolute true love, but possibly happiness, fervor, or chocolate. What I create will be just for you. It will be done sometime this year. You have no clue what it will be… cookies, a photograph, a piece of homemade jewelry.
It may be some other random thing I am capable of making or doing that would be enjoyable to you! I may bake something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you! That’s for sure. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.
The fine print (which is actually the same size, but whatever):You must re-post this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same on their blog. When you get your lovely homemade goods from me, post a picture on your blog so I know my love arrived without a hitch.
OK, thanks Tami, for letting me copy this from you! I'm ready get the ball rolling, but a little nervous!

All work and no play makes Jack...

2009-02-08T21:00:00.000-08:00

An author is a fool who, not content with boring those he lives with, insists on boring future generations. - Charles de Montesquieu

I have been curiously absent from blogging, but just to reassure you, I have been holding true to my "write everyday" resolution. I have just been writing other places. In fact I registered (and paid!) for an independent creative writing course through BYU online. I'm excited about it, but a little bummed because it turns out that you get graded on multiple choice tests, but don't get to turn in any of your writing assignments. What's the point in that? I'm supposed to "self-evaluate" my writing assignments according to the professor's criteria. Whatever. I'm desperate though, I'll take what I can get.

My Jury Duty Anxiety

2009-01-25T20:58:00.000-08:00

When you go into court you are putting your fate into the hands of twelve people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.
Norm Crosby

Last week I received a jury duty summons--exactly one year after I asked to postpone my last one. I got a summons a couple of weeks after having my son and begged to have it put off since I was a nursing mom. I was hoping they would cut me some slack since I nurse a little longer than a year. Nope.
So I got this new summons for this week and I was stressing about it because of babysitting (one grandma was out of town and one had mission duties) and I still nurse Alex about four times in the course of 24 hours and I'm not ready to wean. I had a feeling that they wouldn't let me get out of it for that reason. I worried that if I tried that excuse they might slap me with a $1000 fine just for the fun of it.
So my husband and I were thinking of ways I could answer their questions, with mostly truthful responses (maybe slightly exaggerated):
--"I am just fascinated with the law. My husband is a lawyer and I almost went to law school."
--"I discuss everything with my husband."
These were my ideas, Dave thought his might be more successful:
--"I pretty much think if the police arrest somebody they're guilty."
--"I was a victim of identity theft and I'm so angry about it. I found out about it days after having my son and it took years to clean everything up!"

Disclaimer--I am not averse to serving jury duty. I just was thinking up ways to expedite my service because of my situation. I would be happy to do it the vast majority of the time, but the only 2 times I've been asked is when I've had a month-old baby! (last time they postponed a little more than a year and I DID serve when my baby was 14 months or so).
The happy ending: After calling everyday I never had to go in and my last day of calling they said I would not have to go in at all; then I got really sick. I am currently really sick. I am going to bed now, happy in the knowledge I will not be conscripted into service for the justice system for awhile, right? (Unless I have another baby, in which case I will expect a prompt summons!)

Do anti-depressants change your personality?

2009-01-15T13:03:00.000-08:00

If so, sign me up. I think I'm ready for a new one.
I've never taken them before, so I wouldn't know. But I need some sort of change to go along with the new year. Maybe medication could make me not care about certain things and care more about others.
One thing that it would be nice to not care about is the post-five children flab, otherwise known as muffin, or cupcake top. It has taken on serious proportions after my last baby and is ever present, no matter what pants I wear. I go to the gym. I eat well--ok, not the best, but I don't eat french fries everyday; still it is always there. This morning as I was contemplating the anti-depressant issue, I picked a sweater out of my closet I've had since child #2. I really like that sweater. I slipped it on and realized I've grown since then--it pulled up at the bottom and sure enough, there's that muffin top peeking out underneath. I decided it was not so bad and started to go about my day, when my husband said, "Looks like that sweater doesn't fit you anymore." Innocuous enough any other time, but not then. I strode over to the closet, ripped it off and stood there, looking for a shirt that would fit. I didn't have much luck. My husband peeked in and said, "Are you ok?"
"Just changing my shirt, Honey." I said a little too loudly.
Something that anti-depressants might help me care more about is how clean my house is. In fact, maybe it would change my personality enough to make me do something about that scooter lying on the kitchen floor that I just stepped over but otherwise ignored. I was listening to Dr. Laura the other day about this poor girl who's a neat freak. Dr. Laura informed her that she cleans so that she can get the approval that she missed out on as a child. She cleans so that she can feel like she's OK. Well guess what? I crave approval too, but without the "baggage" that apparently comes along with that in the form of compulsive cleaning. My sister and I were wondering this week if it is genetic to not care enough to have a spotless house, because everyone we know, it seems, has cleaner houses than us (case in point: I asked my dear friend, who is also a mother of five, what she does when her son naps. She said, "Oh, I clean if I need to, but I usually get that done in the morning..." Totally foreign to me).
I think I better give myself a week to ponder this medication thing--I don't want to be hasty. And maybe by next week I'll decide I want to keep my personality:)

Reluctant Resolutions

2009-01-07T13:06:00.000-08:00

I thought about posting my resolutions, but decided against it, after all, who needs extra pressure? But after getting Sarah's comment I reconsidered. So be kind and don't remind. I'll check them myself! Here they are, straight from my list we made on Family Night (hardly edited):
--Get in better shape
--Be patient with Aidan (my 4 year old)
--Plan meals better
--Be more efficient with my housework
--Grow hair (check my sister's blog about her New Year hair)
--Dress nicely
--Finish something to be published
--Be thrifty
--Make scripture study a priority
--Write everyday
--Have weekly dates with my husband (originally I didn't have "with my husband" at the end. I thought I would clarify)
--Attend the temple monthly
I'm not a list person, so this is pretty good for me.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T22:06:00.000-08:00

I want to wish you all a Happy New Year

and a wonderful

!

Love and Marriage, Love and Marriage...

2008-12-20T21:14:00.000-08:00

What is your husbands name? David Norman! (after his grandpa) But we call him Dave.
How long have you guys been married? The big 15 this year! Any suggestions on how to celebrate?
How long did you date? Uh, that would be 6 weeks.
How old is he? 36
Who is taller? Dave, but not by enough for me to wear heels. Better to hug and kiss!
Who can sing best? Me, me, me, me! But only because his family didn't believe in singing as he grew up.
Who is smarter? I can't resist telling you--Dave gave me an IQ test when he was working at the prison and doing them routinely for the prisoners. I got a higher score than him! The caveat is: he went to law school and sharpened his mind while I went to the hospital and had five children. What do you think is the result? ( I guess I'm the kind of wife who says she's smarter than her husband, Becky).
Who does laundry? Me
Who pays the bills? He
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? I do, when we're not playing musical beds (which we do most nights).
Who mows the lawn? OK, to tell the truth, we hired people out to do it last summer. I'm not sure they will come back, since my last check to them bounced! Before that, usually Dave, but I've done my share!
Who cooks dinner? I do, but when I don't feel like it, my husband is great about grabbing Take Out!
Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? That's a toss up. Most the time we agree, but I'll usually admit when I'm hormonal.
Who kissed who first? Wow, I remember I kept telling Dave we should wait to kiss so our relationship wouldn't be too physical. I don't think he bought that one. When he and I did, finally, it was mutual and my best kiss ever!
Who wears the pants? I would say: Dave, definitely. His answer might be different. Actually, we both wear pants and I can't imagine it any other way!

I tag Kirsten!

( My dear Becky tagged me again. She's an awesome blogger, BTW. Sorry if this is TMI.)

Time Flies...

2008-12-12T20:57:00.000-08:00

Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.
Will Rogers

I have a confession to make. FaceBook is taking up a lot of my time. It's a time sucker. It's totally unnecessary. It's also way cool. I mean, how else can you find people you haven't talked to for YEARS. You can send little messages to people on a daily basis who live across the world. You can also check all your friends status at any time, day or night. I seriously get little e-mails about something someone wrote on my wall and suddenly I'm pulled into FB (the cool abreviation) world and may not emerge for an hour! So do you think that Blogging or FB takes up more of your time? (I realize this is a blogging format so the results may be skewed--oh, and let me know if you have a different computer-related time waster).

I couldn't resist

2008-12-05T21:43:00.000-08:00

Some suh-weet flair. Don't you wish you had this on your jacket?

Thanks, Is It Just Me.

Badge of Honor

2008-11-29T22:29:00.001-08:00

So have you ever walked around for 2 hours, unconcerned, with someone elses vomit all over you (in your right mind)? If you answered yes, you are either in the health care profession or a mother. I guess I fall into the "Mother" category, since I had this experience last night.

I was the only one home with the baby and he started having these fits where he would scream uncontrollably and inconsolably. He was writhing in pain. He would stop for a moment and start again. I called my awesome neighbor, Karen, who immediately came over and held him while I talked to the Doctor. She then drove me, and as I got out of her car, my 11-month old threw up all over me, his blanket, himself and her car :(, right before I walked into the emergency clinic. The other parents there looked at me in horror and removed their children from my side of the room. I heard whispering about rotovirus (sp?) and other maladies. I used baby wipes to wipe off the worst of the throw up, and stripped the baby down to his onesie.

I was pretty sure that he had some kind of blockage or something in his intestines. After the vomiting incident, his pain spasms quit and he just layed there, pale. He finally did regain some color and became more himself and after an x-ray, the Dr. deemed him ok to go home. Over the course of the visit my clothes dried and even though I reeked, I sat down to eat a piece of pizza that had been sitting out for 3 hours, since I was starving, and then took a shower. I am still not sure what caused that episode, but he's been ok since then.

Celebrity twin

2008-11-21T16:46:00.000-08:00

So I've been watching this new show where one of the actors is my brother's celebrity twin.

I tried to find pictures to demonstrate this, but it's so hard to show this if you don't see my brother in person or Joshua Jackson on the show. Oh well. Those who know Scott, my brother, might see the resemblance in the pictures. As you might guess, the top two pictures are my brother and the myriad ones below are Joshua Jackson. I know Jessica Romney's celebrity twin is Wonder Woman. Who is yours? Once I had someone tell me my smile reminded them of Sandra Bullock. I took that as a huge compliment--I wish that I was mistaken for her more often!

Creating Words: 3rd installment

2008-11-19T21:57:00.001-08:00

OK, besides coming up with a word for dying of thirst (you know, starving to death? Thirsting to death--think Edward here), I have two other things I need a word for, and I'm not talking the Latin medical term.
First: when you can't see, you're blind, when you can't hear, you're deaf. What about when you lose your smell? Am I wrong, or is there no word for that?
Second: How about a word for that itch you can't scratch?

Love of Blog

2008-11-14T19:10:00.001-08:00

I figured out what blogging gives me that I don't get all day long.
Two words: Captive Audience

Creating words, add.

2008-11-10T08:23:00.000-08:00

I like the "crud" verb that Kirsten shared. I could definitely use that one--like "Crud on those jerks that stole Heather's pumpkin!"

My friend accidently made up a word to describe what her 10-month old is doing. She said he "scrouches", combining squat and crouch.

I remember a repurposing word I used to use. My friend and I wanted to find a new way to describe something cool, so we decided "wasp" was good. As in, "I went skiing yesterday and it was so waspin'!"

After much research on latin bases, how about "homogemony" for the word you were talking about, Kir?

Some recent slang I like is "bromance" to describe two guys that are friends that do everything together. Also, when that friendship breaks for any reason (usually a girl), it's called a "dudevorce".

I got this VERY PRESTIGIOUS award from Leslie, so here it is: Of course it has rules.
Here are the rules of this blog award:
Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.
Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!

My nominees are:
Danae
Heather
Lydia
LaDawn
Jenni

Creating Words

2008-11-05T20:49:00.000-08:00

Did you know that J.R.R. Tolkien created a new word in the english language when writing "Lord of the Rings"? It's called mathom.

It means an object that you don't want but can't stand to throw away.

Not long ago my husband and I had a discussion about Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll. I remembered some random information I read as a child: that Lewis Carroll had combined some words to coin new ones in that poem, like chortled. I told Dave that he had combined chuckle and snort and now it's a word in our language. He was not sure my obscure trivia was accurate, but a quick look at Dictionary.com showed I was right! (Hey, I'll take any cred I can get).

So my challenge for myself and you is to make up a word for something new in the English language. Maybe there's a concept that has no name (Like Gail Carson Levine 's husband, who thinks there should be a word for expiring of thirst, sort of like starving is expiring of hunger.) Or maybe you like the sound of a word and want to make up a meaning. How about the word blatherskite. No, I did not invent it but I wish I did; what a cool word. Click on it to see the definition.

Leave a comment and let me know (if you're like me, this is going to take some thought. Take your time.)

Thank you all my loyal blogging friends for your encouragement with my last blog. You are so awesome!

Positive Attitude

2008-10-26T20:27:00.000-07:00

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort. - Herm Albright

I'm getting an exercise in positive attitudes this week. My DH has thrown out his back and it's hard on both him and me. He's in constant pain and can't do what he wants and I feel frustrated that he's out of commission. I'm also sitting here giving a pep talk to my 12-year-old about not giving up on school, which he's threatening to do. Without much discretionary time I have not blogged much, but I will soon when my life gets better!

If it was up to the media...

2008-10-14T20:20:00.000-07:00

I think this reporting is pretty low. Who's great idea at NBC was this? Btw, I watch O'Reilly all the time and he draws attention to some very interesting issues. Although, sometimes when I'm watching the news I feel like the "Blonde" in this joke:

A Blonde is watching the news with her husband when the newscaster says 'Two Brazilian men die in a skydiving accident.'The blonde starts crying to her husband, sobbing,

'That's horrible!!! So many men dying that way!'

Confused, he says, 'Yes dear, it is sad, but they were skydiving, and there is always that risk involved.'

After a few minutes, the blonde asks, 'How many is a Brazilian anyway?'

We Have Been a Little Tight Lately...

2008-10-12T10:24:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the Mayor, I know a way I could bring in a little extra income. (Scroll down to the letter) Who would've thought I could do what I do all day long and make money? !!

Tagged!

2008-10-11T17:52:00.000-07:00

Did I ever give the impression that I don't like to talk about myself? I can't imagine why you would think such a thing, Beckypants, dear. Not to mention, I feel so honored to be picked by you! So here goes...

How To Play This Game of Tag: 1. Post these rules on your blog. 2. List: 3 joys, 3 fears, 3 goals, 3 current obsessions/collections, 3 random surprising facts about yourself. 3. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names.

Joys:
1. When Alex (my baby) smiles at me across the room
2. When Dave (my husband) smiles at me across the room
3. Eating out

Fears:
1. All books will suddenly vanish from the earth.
2. I could go blind and not be smart enough to learn braille.
3. My book club could kick me out for impersonating a professional book critic

Goals:
1. To check Becky's blog everyday and not miss it for 10 days ever, in case she tags me again and because she is a brilliant blogger and it is a joy to just read about her: in fact, add "Reading Becky's blog" to my "Joys".
2. Have Nanette come over and help me organize every room in my house.
3. Be the next Jane Austen (I know, more of a fantasy!)

Collections/Obsessions:
1. I collect everything. My husband would call it a "pack rat", I call it "being creative".
2. I obsess about different things for about 5 minutes each and move on to the next.
3. My lasting Obsession? Being a good wife and mother.

Random:
1. I love going to school. I've missed it for the last 11 years.
2.I have many pet peeves: the jelly knife in the peanut butter jar, margarine, when you tag people and they don't acknowledge it, and see my last post.
3. I could sit and read magazines all day.

Tag, you're it:
LaDawn
Connie
The Mayor
Leslie, when you are done w/ your sabbatical.
Kir

E-mail Pet Peeve

2008-10-10T11:53:00.000-07:00

My friend Tami, tagged me with a post I already did. Here it is.
I also have to share a major pet peeve. I get these forwarded e-mails from people that have a Christian message that are supposed to make you feel good. I appreciate the thought (though I don't pass them on, usually), but why do they have to have a forceful demand to forward it on to everyone in your address book??? It's like, "I curse you to have a rotten day and hate your life if you don't pass this on." Or, it makes you feel like you're in league with $atan. Or, one which talked about the bad state of our nation said, "You are trying to make things better if you pass this on...if you don't, you're part of the problem."
Here's an actual example I got the other day:

"Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it. Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us. Pass it on if you think it has merit. If not then just discard it.... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in. "

What's up with the guilt-trip?

I also have updated my family blog if you want to see it.

Poetry Corner

2008-10-01T13:57:00.000-07:00

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
T. S. Eliot

I've always loved poetry. At least, as long as I can remember. I wrote a poem in 6th grade about a fat lady in the circus that I read in front of my whole school. I still have it somewhere--it wasn't that impressive, but the poetry bug had bit me and I continued writing poems.
Not long after, my Dad gave me a used book of poetry from all the classic poets; Poe, Keats, Shelley and many others. I read it until the pages were falling out. It was just a soft-back, pocket edition anthology of poems, so not very durable. I went to the book store and had them look it up, but it was out of print, so I could not get another.
I got in trouble for writing poetry as a sophmore in High School, well, sort of. I was in my Honors English class with Mrs. Summers (also the debating coach), sitting next to Tracy Carruthers. She and I were goofing off in our precocious way. I think she dared me to write something funny. So instead of listening to vocabulary words for the PSAT, I wrote a poem. It was called Ode to an Egg Yolk Sitting on a Shelf in my Refrigerator. Hearing some tittering from my part of the classroom as those around me read my 3 stanza poem, Mrs. Summers called out Tracy and I for disrupting her class. Since I would not answer the teacher's inquiry, Tracy immediately narc-ed on me and told her the name of the poem. When I was not interested in sharing with the class, Tracy again volunteered--reading out my poem loudly so all could hear. It began, "Oh the delicate color of pee..." and probably got worse after that. I only remember a few lines of it now. I may have it hiding in my HS memorabilia (best forgotten). Mrs. Summers actually was not displeased with me and maybe was a little admiring at the nature of my rebellion and sheer speed I was able to crank out the poem.
In college my love affair with poetry continued when I decided to expand my horizons and take an Honors Contemporary American Poetry class. It did not count towards my major (psychology) or my GE, but it sounded fun. I learned about poets like Sylvia Plath and Ann Sexton (both died by suicide, many people think Plath was counting on being saved, but by a freak circumstance they did not get to her soon enough).
The thing about writing poetry is that you can't do it without a lot of thought. And when you read a well-written poem you don't have to agree with it to appreciate the hard work, insight and pure passion it took for someone to write it. When I've tried sitting down to write a poem without my heart and head behind it, it comes out sounding like some teenage angst pop song.
As I've matured I have learned to appreciate non-rhyming poetry, which used to not qualify as real poetry to me. This is a poem I read in the last week that I think is a good example of poetry.
In That Time
In that time the people presided over
what came to be known as The Great Dying
Osprey and herons and hawks were exchanged
for speedboats and paved wooden neighborhoods
Bear and beaver and moose disappeared
for top hats and gas pumps to take their places
the gifts to the seventh generation
included dead fish piled in simmering creeks
tides that bore surgical sutures and needles
horizons heavy with smokestacks and tailpipes
falling on trees as searing rain
The earth was opened for interment of poisons
The sky was divided by lots and sold
The sounds that the wind and rain made together
became audible only in fenced preserves
Unprecedented prosperity
sustained the industries of destruction
the makers of stacks of prison cages
of chairs designed for electrocution
of weapons to suppurate the deserts
and erase waterlines and warehouses of seeds
A banner of that time depicts many children
standing on top of a map of the world
Some smile Some stare without expression
at the thicket of swords hanging over their heads
--Suzanne Gardinier, 1993

Economic Crisis/ Upcoming Election

2008-09-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

This video my friend posted is a little sensational, but as far as I can tell, genuine. Check it out.

FHE @ the Kelleys

2008-09-22T21:55:00.000-07:00

Since I've had Alexander, I have not been the most creative at coming up with FHE lessons. We usually do sit and have some sort of lesson, however, be it ever so simple. Tonight we talked about being prepared. We decided to have a fire drill (super fun for the older kids, as they crawled down the hall and stairs--frightening for the 3-year-old). After which, we frosted and decorated star cookies (because my kids are SUPER STARS!--notice the lack of a theme?) and ate ice cream with them.

What they were supposed to look like.

RECIPE FOR THIS: leave the sprinkles too close to the raw cookie dough and the 3-year-old. Don't forget the 7-year-old to egg him on.

Here that is again, in case you didn't gag the first time.

I call this "toxic waste", or a cookie, very enthusiastically decorated by Aidan. (Not so enthusiastically eaten)

Dave and I finished up the night by reading scriptures and putting the kids to bed and then sneaking downstairs to watch "Sarah Connor Chronicles", which we TiVoed.

Rumor has it...

2008-09-20T21:21:00.000-07:00

Is it HIM?.................or HER?

So liberal political bloggers are dropping hints that Biden's health is not so good--some aneurysm thing from a long time ago; and with his recent comments that Hilary Clinton is as or more qualified as him for VP and she would have been the better pick. Is this all a set up for a huge switcheroo in the Democrat's VP nomination? Right after the VP debate, Oct. 2nd, is when it would happen. If Biden does great, he's in: if he doesn't, he'll cite health issues and (in the words of Heidi Klum) he's OUT. Could this be true? Would it help or hinder the Dem's ticket?

Being a celebrity does not mean you know much!

2008-09-10T16:40:00.000-07:00

A citizen of America will cross the ocean to fight for democracy, but won't cross the street to vote in a national election. - Bill Vaughan

I'm definitely feeling disappointed in Matt Damon today. I'm not sure if someone payed him to read a script or if his mocking tone is his own, but I guess I can't be a fan anymore. Doesn't he realize that most his fans are Hockey/soccer/football moms? I'm not sure what he means by a 33% chance that McCain wouldn't survive his first term and that Sarah Palin would be president, but as Glenn Beck pointed out, there's a 100% chance that Obama will be president if he wins the election and he does not have superior experience to Palin.

Bad Disney movie or not, Palin is not a fundamentalist Christian that believes the earth is 10,000 years old or that books should be banned or that Creationism should be taught in schools, for that matter!

Watch the movie clip to see what I'm talking about.

And Now, A Little Politics

2008-09-03T09:13:00.001-07:00

Inspired by Leslie, I decided to share some of the thoughts banging around in my head from hours of television viewing. For Barack Obama:

Drop the whole pretense that you are already the President, dude.

Whoever told you it would be a good idea should be fired from your campaign because, frankly, it's irritating. Traipsing around the world talking to actual leaders of other countries as if you had any thing to tell them, talking about how you'll organize the relief effort for the victims of hurricaine Gustav as if you had the power, and comparing running your campaign for 18 months to running the country are all pretty laughable. In fact I did. Out loud.

Not that I think you come across as a bad guy, but it does look pretty arrogant.

You won't be getting my vote any way, since you are "pro-choice", believe in socialized medicine, and want to raise my taxes.

I think it's funny how John McCain is always behind Sarah Palin's right shoulder looking like a proud Papa. The cynical side of me wonders if he is rubbing his hands together, saying:

"She's as good as gold--my ticket to the presidency!"

Whatever the case, I'm impressed with her. And though I was going to vote for McCain anyway, if just for a protest vote, she sure does sweeten the deal.

Unspectacular Me

2008-08-30T06:52:00.000-07:00

I got tagged for the first time! I feel like a loser because Jody did it a long time ago.
Rules:
1. Post these rules.2. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.3. Tag 6 fellow bloggers

1. I am not a big fan of seafood, but I love sushi.
2. I get excited about vocabulary words (Avarice! Aplomb! Acrimony!) and am writing down my favorites. Any good ones? Send them to me. Hence, I love Dictionary.com Word of the Day (it's "fop" today).
3. My brother, Brian, called me "morbid" when I was little because I was so fascinated when people died. My first question upon learning of a death was (a little too anxiously), "How'd they die?" I also was interested in ghosts and the supernatural.
4.I'm a CNN/ Fox News Channel junkie--especially when something big is going on (like an election year).
5. I like chinese martial arts movies: I just saw Jet Li's "Fearless" and really enjoyed it.

6. I read like a maniac.
If you want to know about our Draper fire we had last week, check my friend Lydia's blog.

I need to tag some people:
Jenni
Krisi
Tammie
Whitney
Leslie (to add to the 34 things we all learned about you)
Kirsten
Kim
Danae
Becky
Lydia
Heather C.
Heather P.

It's a Mom Thing II

2008-08-29T13:42:00.000-07:00

"The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do."
--Walter Bagehot

In my daily life things seem to run together. Sometimes at the end of the day my husband will ask what I did that day and I cannot give him an actual accounting because I forgot. Or I may remember one event in the morning but lose a whole afternoon. Why? I think because I have constant interuptions and so can not finish anything and because what I do can be tedious. Just writing this, I've been interupted 3 times. So for my own benefit, I am keeping track of some things I've realized/learned in the last couple of weeks. You can guess what each thing has to do with.
1--Walking around with Writer's Block stinks.
2--I'm not as good at saying "no" as I thought.
3--All shades of blue go together, that's why they make denim blue and not some other color.
4--My house is a money pit.
5--Three-year-old children's dirty diapers stink WAAAAY more than 7-month-old ones.
6--Children really DO give you wrinkles (I thought it was just a saying; my bad)
7--I don't have makings of a great blogger.

A. We're building a deck, actually, it's pretty much done.
B. I've only posted once in the last month and I'm ok with that.
C. I have constant look of consternation between my brows, even when I'm not.
D. I spent all last night making a FHE lesson and I look forward (not really) to three more evenings just like it before Monday.
E. I took the plunge and decided to start the book I always said I'd write before age 40.
F. My 12-year-old started middle school and we're back to picking clothes out for school (no more uniforms :(
G. My 3-year old started preschool with out being totally potty trained--which is ok because I know he'll never have an accident of #2 because he has a fear of doing that anywhere but a diaper and I send him to school in underwear.

It Takes Two

2008-08-19T19:13:00.000-07:00

Whenever I have felt bored this summer, I could count on these two to liven things up. Just a quick eavesdropping, and you never know what you're going to get. That's my 7-year-old Nate on the left and his friend, Simon, on the right.

A couple of weeks ago, I was overhearing their volatile friendship erupt into a major conflict when Simon was making fun of Nate's Mii character on the Wii. After getting no response from Simon upon his demand to stop, Nate decided to order him out of our home effective immediately. He did so with dramatic effect by marching him up the stairs while yelling at the top of his voice, "Get out of my house, Simon! Just get out of my LIFE!"

Tonight's discussion was lively, but less hostile. After a 5-minute debate, they decided to name their newly-formed rock band, "The Buddy Brothers" (NOT to be confused with the Jonas Brothers).

After such a momentous decision, their dialogue went like this:

Simon: I want to be the guitar player. And I also can control fire.

Nate (outraged): You can't have any powers!

Simon: OK, but I have power over soccer balls!

Me (laughing): That is so funny. Power over soccer balls!

Nate (looking at me, perplexed): Soccer balls are awesome! They are the best in Brawl! (As in Wii).

Obviously I was not in on that one. But I did overhear something that scared me the other day. I'm going to spell it out, hoping it will not pull up on any search engines. So I was in my sewing room and the boys were in the next room starting up the Wii. I knew it was connected to the internet and they were on the starting screen, looking at different stuff. I hear Nate say,

"Oh! And there's g-a-y p-o-r-n!

My brain took a second to process that and then my body jumped up and walked around the corner. They were still on the Wii. I calmly said, (though I felt like screaming) "Could you show me the screen you were just on?"

Nate showed me the globe, rotating it around. Finally he moved it to the southern-most tip of South America and said, "See--Cape Horn!"

My favorite YouTube clip

2008-07-29T21:26:00.000-07:00

I could not get the actual video on here, but here is the link to my family's favorite youtube clip. We quote "OUUUUUCH" if Alex does anything that hurts us.
Another one I like, but not as much is this one.

"Think of Me, Think of Me Fondly..."

2008-07-27T22:45:00.000-07:00

Contrary to the title, if it's not fond say it anyway, I can take it.
Here's what you do:
1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!
2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

AKA:

2008-07-24T10:52:00.000-07:00

And now some frivolity to cheer myself up:
1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car)-Cleo Odyssey
2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)-Strawberry Peanut Butter
3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name)- S.kel or S.chu
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)-Green Cat
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)-Annie Housten (as in Steph-Annie since I have no middle name)
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)-Kelst
7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink)-The Purple Crystal Light
8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)-Ned Lyman
9. DANCER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)-Fendi Hot Tamale
10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names )-Ann Ballard
11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)-Compton Copperton
12. SPY NAME/BOND GIRL: (your favorite season/holiday, flower)-Autumn Rose
13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”)-Apricot peasant blousie
14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)-Grape Nut Maple
15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”)-The Quilting Thunder Tour
And for some funny celebrity names.

Bad Day

2008-07-24T10:17:00.000-07:00

I probably should not write this because I'm feeling so depressed right now, but maybe if I complain here I'll be able to function better today. I had one of those nights that make you miserable the next day: a shame, since yesterday was my anniversary. After dinner and a movie, my husband and I picked up our kids from his mother's house, finding out that two of them had had fevers while we were gone. After watching "So You Think You Can Dance" till late (a BIG mistake), I could not go to sleep. I kept thinking about the movie we watched (Dark Knight) and how people can be bought and sold with money in this world (reading "An Ideal Husband" by Oscar Wilde did not help). I also could not help wondering how playing such an evil character as the Joker contributed to Heath Ledger's death.
Finally at 1 am I woke up the baby to feed him since I was not settled, thinking he would wake soon. Shortly after I fell asleep, my 3-year-old started crying for water, which awoke his older brother and sister. After getting them all a drink, I laid down but heard crying again. This time I woke up my husband to deal. Later I woke up to feed the baby again.
The baby woke up at 6:45 and I assessed the damage, Aidan sleeping in my bed, Sarah on the floor next to my side of the bed. I fed the baby again, but he decided not to go back to sleep. I headed down stairs to surround the baby with toys while I read scriptures.
Fast forward to now: I'm washing the sheets of my bed because my side of the bed was peed on by my 3-year-old, my husband left for work right after informing me that I just cost our family a couple thousand dollars by scratching up the hood of his nice car; apparently when I juggled the baby on my hip while I dragged out the heavy trash cans and tried to water the dead patch in our front yard by dragging out the hose, it scraped across the hood of his car, scratching up the paint, and right now I'm typing with just my right hand because I have sad baby in my left arm that I can't put down. Enough griping: if I can't say anything positive I'll refer you to someone who can: a blog my sister-in-law, Mirien, sent me this morning.

My Visit to Albuqurque

2008-07-12T09:38:00.000-07:00

I recently had a great visit with my sister, Jenni,
in Albuquerque, NM. She lives there with her 5 children (4 boys, 1 girl) and husband who just finished his residency and is starting his specialization in Pediatrics.
We had a great time and kept busy with visiting, some reality TV updates, the Children's museum, Old town, the quilt stores, movie watching, sushi, the Petroglyph National monument, cousins, Jen's cooking, making jewelry, and generally catching up.
It was so fun and made both of us wish we could live near one another.

Jen, modeling an apron I made her.

My brother-in-law, Ken, was great with Alex.

We visited this church in Old Town that has been there since 1607!

The amazing petroglyphs near Jenni's house--I've never seen anything like it!

Young at Heart

2008-07-06T22:09:00.000-07:00

"Like millions of people in the world, I can't listen to Coldplay."
--Chris Martin (lead singer of Coldplay)

A little poem I wrote upon reviewing another recent poem I wrote (NOT featured here).

Teenage angst is ok to have
when you're 14 or slightly more,
but in your writing of poetry,
it does not become the age of 34.

My Birthday

2008-06-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

"A truly great [wo]man never puts away the simplicity of a child."
--Confucius

My birthday was a little over a week ago, I am now in my mid-thirties. Reflecting back, I've spent the best years of my life having children: 21 to 33. Do I regret this at all? No, absolutely not. I graduated with a Bachelor's degree a month before I had my first son, which was a must for me, and decided not to pursue my graduate degree in exchange for being home with my children. I prayed and fasted much about this decision, and I felt that it was my choice which way to choose. When I decided to stay home, I felt that it was right for my family. How could I regret that?

Ever since, I have self-educated. Obviously (to me), motherhood is the most difficult job I could have. You constantly feel humbled. There is not one time when I have said, "After 12 years, I've really got this thing down!" The reason for this is that children are always changing stages and growing, not to mention their different personalities. You constantly have to change things up and be creative to see what works with each child. My three-year-old, for example. He is extremely intelligent and talented. He is also a huge challenge. I like to compare him to an Australian Shepard: very smart, but if you don't keep them busy, they become destructive. I find if I give my son important things to do, he won't go and find something "important" on his own. If I do this, he does beautifully. Unfortunately, I am not a perfect parent and sometimes I don't have the energy to think of what he should do or the patience to supervise his task.

Since I did not get more degrees at a university, I have tried to learn on my own some other things: quilting, cooking, card-making, gardening, scrapbooking, and I read a lot (note that cleaning is not on that list, but it should be). I need some creative outlets so I don't go crazy. I feel pretty good about what I've learned in addition to raising five children.

I think I am a lot like my 3-year-old, I need to be busy with important work so I'm not getting into trouble. God is a perfect parent and He knows what I need to live a good life. I find that if I follow His guidance I will do well every time. So though I suffer daily frustrations ("frustration" is an understatement some days), I do not suffer from regret. I think that makes me a pretty lucky girl.

Living It Up

2008-06-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

At a BBQ at the Austin's we had a touching reunion of former faithful Law partners. The former President from '99-2000: Becca Jane Waite, the Vice President of '99-2000: Stephanie Kelley and former member of 98-01: Holly Austin. We decided to have our just desserts.

In this case: a strawberry pie, coconut cream, apple crumb.

Apron Exchange

2008-06-20T10:07:00.000-07:00

"The better part of one's life consists of [her] friendships."

--Abraham Lincoln

Two days after my birthday I had an apron exchange with my friends. It was awesome. We brought treats to Kathleen Day's house, ate and talked and then exchanged our summer aprons.

Here are pictures of the cute aprons people came up with. Many of them were sewn by novices, including myself.

This was the second apron I made. I am on the left, and my friend, Becky, got the one I made:

My first apron I made, I gave to my mom for Mother's day:

Kathleen's backyard is beautiful; my kids loved the fountain:

Ikea Fairy Tale

2008-06-13T09:57:00.000-07:00

We are continually faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as insoluble problems. - John W. Gardner

I must be living right. That's all I can figure after what happened to me this week.
Right now I'm trying to outfit my craft/sewing room (4 years after it was built; I'm a procrastinator). Really, I have a hard time spending money on something so... unnecessary. But my husband gave me an excuse when we went to Pottery Barn a few months ago. He encouraged me to buy a project table for the cyclonic disaster zone I call my craft room. Perhaps he hoped it would motivate me to act like I'm part of civilized society and excavate the room enough to unearth the floor. It worked.

I recently got everything cleared off the floor enough to run a vacuum in there. All the ancient scraps of fabric and dessicated spider corpses were sucked right out of there. I was left with an enormous mess on all the tables and desk. Here is an example:

Actually this is quite tame compared to what I've been living with down there. So I bought the project table. It's beautiful as you can see.

After I bought the table and was waiting for it to be shipped to the store, I kept thinking I could get a lot more for my money if I were to furnish the room at IKEA (who needs to worry about style in a craft room, anyway?). So I returned the project table and so far have bought 2 great work tables (formerly known as kitchen islands), two fat-quarter displays (formerly CD cabinets), a small set of drawers that are extra wide, a wardrobe cabinet that can hold my plastic containers and some storage containers and I'm still under-budget!

Much thanks goes to my Father-in-law for assembling these things and my mother-in-law for shopping w/ me and babysitting. It's still a work in progress, so I'll post more pictures as more things are assembled.

As I said before, I had a small miracle this week. On Monday, I was perusing IKEA for small items and walked into the AS/IS section. I just found out about this room from my friend, Nanette, who informed me that it's a great place to find floor models that are already assembled, some being broken, others discontinued. Unfortunately, I never asked her how you go about purchasing things in this room.

Immediately upon entering, I saw a table that would be perfect for my craft room. It was counter-height for cutting fabric, had a butcher-block top and 12 see-through drawers. It was $150 less than it's usual cost and fully assembled. I was so excited and so was my mother-in-law. We hovered over it for a bit and wrote down the name and any information on it so I could go through the check-out line and buy it. I assumed this was how you bought as/is items and I could not see anyone that worked there, so I headed over to the check-out.

After waiting for a least 20 minutes in line with my two small children, I got to the front and told the checker to ring up my table. She looked at me with no pity, just a sort of bovine indifference, and said,

" I can't ring it up if it's not here. You have to go get the table and bring it through check-out."

" I can't get it, it's too big!" I replied.

" Then go find someone to help you load it on a cart," Was her answer.

I ran over to find an employee to help and noticed that the table was gone. Someone had come and bought it right from under my nose! I was so disappointed. I had a lump in my throat when I found my mother-in-law and told her the bad news. I just wanted to sit down right there on the dirty concrete floor and cry. As we drove home we both commiserated how things had turned out. I kept thinking about it and even called IKEA to see if it was discontinued.

That evening, my father-in-law brought his pick-up truck over so I could go back to IKEA to pick up the wardrobe cabinet and drawers. I was telling him as we walked over to the warehouse,

"I wish you could have seen this table. It was so perfect! It had drawers and..."

"Did it look like that?" He interrupted me as he pointed to something.

There it was, waiting for me! The table was loaded on a wheeled cart sitting in an abandoned check-out aisle! It was the exact same table, same price and everything, and ready for me to buy. I could not believe my luck. I went to grab my other items and my Father-in-law bought it, just so there would be no dispute in case someone came in, claiming it was theirs. We got it home and after much blood, sweat, and pulled muscles, we got it to my basement craft room! (A very special thank-you going out to David Atkisson, without whom it never would have got there).

Here's my two work tables together.

Here is my fat quarter holder, with the other one still in the box next to it.

Names Have Been Changed...The Domestic Goddess

2008-05-31T20:46:00.000-07:00

The Too Friendly Housewife: A Cautionary Tale

Once there was a very beautiful homemaker named "Molly". She lived in a beautiful house with five gorgeous children and a handsome husband. The beautiful landscaping for her new house was being put in by a villianous man named Monet. This cad had a bad habit of hiring men from Mexico, who do not speak english, to perform all his grunt work and then neglecting to pay them. Tragically, Monet got away with this devious behavior all too often. Two of his workers, Martin (pronounced, Mar-teen) and "Juan" were working at Molly's house. Molly worried that these men would fall into the same trap as others, so she warned them one day to make sure they got paid before doing any more work (which was difficult since she did not speak spanish). Unfortunately Monet's despicable behavior continued unchecked, and Martin moved on after recieving no money. Juan, however, stayed on, coming to work in Molly's yard day after day.

One day he made a confusing request. Now Molly was used to giving Juan lemonade or water or other considerate things while he was working. She was also used to him being gracious (or so she thought) towards her: saying she was beautiful, that her girls were pretty like their mother, and other niceties. This continuing dialogue was all performed in a hybrid of spanish, english and hand motions, so there was much room for error.

Juan came to Molly's back door asking for something she did not understand; trying her best to decipher what he said, she decided he wanted a picture of her. She went and grabbed a framed family photo off the wall and brought it to him. He cradled it in his arms, giving it a little hug and made as if to take it with him. Molly indicated that she needed it back and Juan went back to work. They had a few more exchanges, confusing to Molly, and then Juan stopped coming. Molly assumed she would not see Juan anymore since her landscaper, Monet ran off to Hawaii with all his ripped off money.

A few days ago, Molly's children told her there was a Mexican guy in their yard. She assumed it was a worker for their new landscaper, until the doorbell rang. Her children answered, yelling for their Mom. Molly went to the door and saw Juan. As nice as ever, she tried to ask him what he wanted/needed. He replied in spanish, saying something about "mujer". Now, Molly thought he meant something about her being a mother, so she said "Yes."

In Molly's words, Juan started to get excited about something then, so she started to wonder what she agreed to. He ran to his car to get something. Molly wondered if it was a camera to take her picture, since that seemed to be a fascination for him. Instead he came back with a dozen roses. He handed them to her and she took them, mystified. He pointed to his head, saying, "Molly, Molly, Molly."

Still not sure what he meant, Molly ran to her computer to try to type in words and get translations. This exercise was not very successful. Meanwhile, Juan stood at the door and her children were all standing around. Her 9-year-old daughter urged Molly to call her husband at work to try to figure things out. She finally did and since he did not speak english, he called my husband. After quickly explaining the situation to her husband and Dave, Molly handed Juan the phone. Dave said something to the effect of: " Your gift makes Molly and her husband uncomfortable. She cannot accept the roses."

Juan replied, "I understand, I understand."

Molly handed back the roses to Juan and said, "Sorry," in english. He took them back and left in his blue, beat-up mini-van.

Global Warming

2008-05-20T20:32:00.000-07:00

My husband sent me this article in relation to my recent post.

Salt Lake Century, take 3

2008-05-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Dave rode the Salt Lake Century, a 100 mile bike ride, for the 3rd time: well, sort of. He finished it 2 years ago, it was his first long-distance ride. Last year, things went awry--you can read about it. Anyway, this year went great, and besides being tired, Dave felt great. The baby, Jameson, and I went downtown to meet him at the finish line. As fate would have it, I was getting my camera when Dave finished! Oh well, at least we shared a popsicle together when I got back.

Dave rode with his friend Richard and we caught up with another friend, Dave Atkisson, at the end of the ride.

OK, I read a posting that really made me laugh this week, so here's the link to my friend, Jessica's engagement story (hope you don't mind Jessica).

Dave had a fun experience (I use the word, fun, loosely) today when he tried to meet me and the older children at stake conference. He let me go ahead and find seats while he finished getting the three little boys all ready. Well, things did not go as planned. Nate kept saying he was sick, Aidan was being Aidan (those who know him understand the difficulty implied here) and the baby cried non-stop. So I ended up really enjoying my 2 hour church meeting without small children and Dave never made it out the door! The only down side for me was the disapproving glances I got from those seated around me who saw I never filled the seats I was saving. Dave, on the other hand got a real dose of many of my mornings. This week on a fairly good morning I took these pics.

Mother's Day

2008-05-13T13:02:00.000-07:00

I was reflecting on Mother's Day and all the tributes to all sorts of moms. Well, I wanted to make a tribute to those who make tributes to mothers. The reason is that when I feel validated and appreciated I do a better job as a mom. Thus, those who make me feel that way are helping my children as well.
A few years ago, I was schlumping it at Costco. You know, wearing glasses, sweats, my hair not really fixed. I had at least 2 small children w/ me. Maybe three, I can't really remember. Anyway, I had just finished an adventurous shopping round and was ready for a nice warm hot dog. My sweet kids were starving too, so we decided to get lunch right there at Costco. Those of you who have done this know how much of a hassle it can be; getting in line, balancing your food, finding somewhere to sit, and making sure the food makes it in your kid's mouth. Well, I was not very successful in that last endeavor. In fact, one of my little cuties dropped their whole hot dog on the floor under the table. I'm not sure how often they clean under there, but I know it's not often enough. I remember not actually being nice to the child that did it, but I must not have lost it.
So I'm sitting there wiping the hot dog off with a napkin and tucking it back into the bun (are you kidding? I'm not waiting in that line to buy another one!), when I feel someone putting their arm around me from behind. I twist around to try to see who it is. When I do, I don't recognize the older woman. She says, "I just want you to know you're doing such a great job with your children!" She gave me another squeeze as I mumbled thanks, and was gone. As strange as that all went down, it really did make me feel good.
So thank you to all you who make moms feel better, important, cared-for, appreciated, thought-of, or anything positive. Thank you Dave, both Moms, sisters, friends and wonderful neighbors!

P.S. A book give away here: I'm salivating already.

Closet Conservationist

2008-05-08T00:00:00.000-07:00

"Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed."
--Mahatma Gandhi

I have something to admit and maybe I should not tarnish my reputation by doing so, but here it is: I care about the earth. I know, I sound like a flaming liberal. I actually cannot stand throwing away all the garbage a seven-person house produces and imaging it languishing, perhaps for a hundred years, in the local dump. The sheer number of diapers we dispose of everyday makes me sick. My recycling trash can is overflowing every week because I put anything that can possibly be recycled in there. I believe in and try to live by the pioneer adage: "Use it up; wear it out; make it do or do without." I'm not sure if this ingrained way of thinking is due to my pioneer heritage or some residue of the Great Depression that passed from my grandparents to my parents to me. I don't imagine I'm alone in this sentiment among my friends and neighbors, but I've noticed a mysterious, recurring reaction in myself and those around me that I've been trying to figure out.

Why did my Mother-in-law cringe when my six-year-old recited a poem he had learned at school: "We Are Plooters", and comment that they are brainwashing them early? Why did an attorney at Dave's firm, whom I highly respect, scoff at my suggestion that my husband buy a hybrid to commute to work in? Why did I roll my eyes when Time Magazine came out with their "Green" issue on Earth Day (Which didn't save any trees, by the way)? In discussing this with Dave, we concluded it's because the media has politicized the whole conservation issue. For this reason, those of us who are staunch conservatives have a negative knee-jerk reaction when we hear the term "Global Warming". This term, so often improperly applied to needed responsibility and reform efforts, promotes guilt among those of us living normal lives. Why can't the media challenge each of us, in a productive way, to make little changes in our lives to help the earth, instead of making this antoher Republican vs. Democrat feud? I blame this, in part, on Al Gore. I would argue that he is doing more of a disservice to this cause by being the spokesperson. If he would back off and let bipartisans raise awareness, many more people would be open to change.

My Mother-in-law was right in assuming all the indoctrination going on in the schools. And yes, if Dave drove a little hybrid car he would probably be perceived as a tree-hugging,GreenPeace loving, Al Gore-adoring, beard-growing, liberal. So I suppose by making my first statement public, I might be seen the same way. I'll run that risk, though, because as far as I'm concerned, the far-left does not have a monopoly on saving the earth.

Food Storage

2008-04-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

"On a daily basis we witness widely fluctuating inflation; wars; interpersonal conflicts; national disasters; variances in weather conditions; innumerable forces of immorality, crime, and violence; attacks and pressures on the family and individuals; technological advances that make occupations obsolete; and so on. The need for preparation is abundantly clear. The great blessing of being prepared gives us freedom from fear, as guaranteed to us by the Lord in the Doctrine and Covenants: “If ye are prepared ye shall not fear” (D&C 38:30).
Just as it is important to prepare ourselves spiritually, we must also prepare ourselves for our temporal needs. Each of us needs to take the time to ask ourselves, What preparation should I make to care for my needs and the needs of my family?"

--Elder L. Tom Perry

In a conference address in 1995

We've been reminded over and over about food storage. Have we listened? Our church leaders have never let up in telling us to be prepared, even in times of plenty. I am going to work on my food storage--a year supply. Here's an article about what's going on in the world right now to nudge me further in this endeavor.

Who says Dick Cheney isn't funny?

2008-04-17T21:43:00.000-07:00

I loved a joke that the vice president told last night at a Media press dinner in Washington. It goes something like this:
"Al Gore is a little sore at me because he thinks I don't get global warming. I actually see signs everyday that we are in the midst of global warming; I call it spring.
Not to be an Alarmist, but I think it will get much warmer before it gets any cooler.
I am trying to reduce my carbon footprint quite a bit. Whenever I am rushed to the hospital, I insist on going in a hybrid ambulence."
If you want to watch a sub-standard video, go to this link:http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/24184541#24184541.

Going Postal: My Story

2008-04-12T21:03:00.000-07:00

My friend had a lot to say about unpleasant Post Office visits here . I thought I would treat it like a tag and share one experience. One busy Christmas season morning I head to my local p. o. I take my just-turned-two-years-old son to mail some gifts. I stand in the insanely long line, trying to entertain the poor child. We finally get to the front of the line. I sit my two year old up on the counter (I know you're not supposed to), when he promptly starts pointing and loudly proclaims, "Jesus! Jesus, mommy!" I look past the postal worker to the wall behind him trying to see if there's a picture of Jesus on the wall or some stamps, or something. When my child starts to point and shout Jesus again, I realize he means the emanciated, ear-pierced, bearded man helping us. Imagine my chagrin as I start noticing the snickering in line behind us. But worse than not being able to quiet my son, the man won't acknowledge he's heard who he resembles; he won't smile or ANYTHING. I tried to hurry and finish my business because no matter what I did, Aidan would not stop his mantra. I see that same postal worker all the time and I just want to duck for cover every time.

Standing for Something

2008-04-11T23:12:00.000-07:00

Here's some interesting info on some amazing women in history I never would have known otherwise except for reading this.

Top Five Comedies

2008-04-08T22:38:00.000-07:00

Inspired by a conversation we had with the Hagues and Petersens this weekend, I've been thinking about my Top Five Favs for Funny Flicks (how's that for alliteration???)

In no particular order: (My Caveat is: some of the movies I would not recommend the whole thing, just a few EXTREMELY funny parts):

Napolean Dynamite

School of Rock

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (one specific part, you know who you are)

Zoolander (Hey, I saw this edited and still just certain parts)

Christmas Vacation (this is for you, Scott)

International Category:
Strictly Ballroom (I love this movie!)
Cold Comfort Farm
Twin Dragons (Jackie Chan movie w/ subtitles)

I have some runner-ups and I will post them as I do some research to make sure I remember my favorites.

By the way, Dave's favorites are:
Fletch
Happy Gilmore
Galaxy Quest
Caddy Shack
The Ringer

A Force to be Reckoned With: Babies

2008-04-05T11:21:00.000-07:00

"...like every other species, we're only here because our ancestors spent millions of years refining their act as efficient, dedicated breeders."
--Barbara Kingsolver

Here we are in Dana Point, Ca: just me, Dave and the baby. Dave has had a conference here for the last week, so Alex and I flew here to join him. Everywhere we go, people who would never crack a smile at me are gooing all over the place at Alex. He softens people right up. 'Course it helps that he smiles at anyone who looks at him. If they address me, people first ask how old he is, then if they are really interested, if he's our first. After telling them, no, he's actually the 5th, invariably they ask, " are you done?" or they make the statement, "You are done, then." What am I supposed to say to that? Dave suggested that I say, "How was menopause for you?" or some other personal question. Occasionally, they would then ask, "Where are you from?" When I would tell them Utah they would get a "Now it makes sense," look. But seriously, this scenerio played out over and over; you would think that people no longer are having children in Dana Point.

Last night we stopped by a grocery store and the checker (a grouchy-looking, small woman with thining gray hair) did a double-take when I answered question #2. As she just finished asking me question #3, a woman over at the photo machine piped in, "I'm 50 and I only have cats!" The checker started telling me her mother's experience over 50 years ago in having children. She got married at 21, had a baby 9 months later and had her 4th at age 35. They asked me how old I was and I told them 33, which left their mouths agape. As I was walking out the door, the cat lady, who was printing out postcards of her cats, accosted me, saying, "I hope you're done. You better not be having any more!" and asked if I was going to get surgery to insure that I did not have any more children. Again, I was not sure how to respond, so I said, "I considered it, but didn't feel right about it."

She surprised me then, because I was waiting for her verbal flogging; instead, she informed me she was a Christian and thinks that all things happen for a reason. She said it must have been right for us to have five children and told us, "God bless you!" as we parted. I really felt that God had blessed me at that moment.

2008-04-01T21:53:00.000-07:00

In order: a very precocious three-year-old, a very upset 2-month-old, and a very-staged moment of hilarity with my brother at my sister's wedding (including a beautiful 9-year-old and a baby).

Ode to a Housefly

2008-03-30T21:54:00.000-07:00

"Since we cannot change reality, let us change the eyes which see reality."

--Nikos Kazantzakis

With summer approaching, my thoughts turn to the hot afternoons spent in the kitchen, making meals for my family. At times I just want to escape, especially when the children are buzzing questions at me and wanting my already-spoken-for time. It's always worse when an actual fly is buzzing around too. One of these afternoons, I noticed a house-fly that had been flying around all day: haunting doors and windows, looking for an exit. I actually felt compassion for the poor thing, but did not know how to help. On one of its many passes through the kitchen, time ran out and it expired, dropping out of the air, right in front of me. I wrote an Ode:

I was sorry, little fly,

that you had to die

as I picked up your corpse this afternoon.

Though "house" was in your name,

escape was your game,

but, alas, you died too soon.

Names Have Been Changed...

2008-03-19T14:09:00.000-07:00

“I don't believe; I know.”
--Carl Jung

A good friend of mine had an interesting experience lately. I'll call her “Brooke” to protect her anonymity. Brooke took her three beautiful children to a car wash near the part of town she grew up. Behind her, she heard someone calling her; by her maiden name. The thought crossed her mind to pretend she didn't hear since she did not feel like seeing anyone from high school. She turned around anyway. There was Lindsey, an acquaintance from school. They engaged in polite conversation: how cute Brooke's kids were, how her husband finished med school and is now a doctor, etc. Brooke asked Lindsey, “So are you going to have children soon?” Lindsey replied that because of her career, she didn't want kids right now. She added,
“Especially since I got my augmentation done, my career has really taken off.”
“Oh! What exactly is your career?” inquired Brooke.
“I'm not ashamed to say it—I'm an exotic dancer,” replied Lindsey.
Brooke wondered briefly what to say to that, when Lindsey went on,
“Yeah, having that new hospital next to the club has been great for business, too. Doctors come in all the time: during lunch, when they are off shift, and stuff. I have to say, they are really great tippers.”
Trying to muster a response, Brooke said something like, “Wow.”
Lindsey repeated, “we see doctors a lot, in fact, I bet I've danced for your husband!”
“No, I don't think so.” Brooke emphatically replied.
Lindsey snapped back, “That's what all the wives say.”
Brooke looked her in the eye and answered, “Actually, Lindsey, I think most women know when their husbands are SCUM BAGS.”
Hooray Brooke!

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Tantrum

2008-03-07T10:54:00.000-08:00

Aidan has changed since I had the baby: or maybe it's his age. Three is the new two, you know. He has always been shy and reserved with his emotions, but now he pops in and out of this screaming creature who can not be reasoned with. Yesterday I think I noticed a trigger. I was stressed because I had people working on my house and Aidan wanted to play the violin (which he does everyday). In a cross manner, I said "Not right now!". Boy, that did it. Aidan, the tentative boy, turned into a yelling, stomping, even pushing, tyrant. I could not talk to him or walk away, everything infuriated him. He totally loses control; I think it even surprises him.
He also has developed the unfortunate habit of asking to be held: especially when you are holding the baby already. I try my best to immediately agree and tell him to wait while I put the baby down. If you give him any sort of a negative response, out comes Mr. Tantrum. Sometimes it takes 15 minutes to get back to normality.
Another new, unrelated behavior is his name for a certain part of his anatomy. I know I told him the correct name at some point, but he has translated the word to "peanut". I had to stop myself from laughing when he kept telling me, with a mischievious grin, that his peanut was itching. Unfortunately, my six year old did not have the self-control that I did, and kept laughing, so Aidan thought it was really funny. Today as I changed his diaper, he informedme I was next to his peanut. I think I will allow him to continue with his mispronunciation, just in case he takes his new fascination public.

The Worth of Souls is... Weight?

2008-02-21T13:33:00.000-08:00

"Self-love is the only weight-loss aid that really works in the long run."
--Jenny Craig

Why do we judge ourselves according to the scale?

My good friend was over and we were discussing our body issues, specifically, how much heavier we are than we want to be. She was telling me, after I commented that I need to join Weight Watchers, that she needs to lose 70 pounds and could I believe that? I told her that I could, but I would have guessed 75. Kidding aside, I think it's funny that I never would have guessed she thought she should lose 70 pounds because I did not think about her being overweight. I love my friend for who she is, not by her perception or mine of her appearance. Throughout our lives weight is not a static thing. I know mine has fluctuated dramatically in the last 12 years, so much so that I have 3 or 4 wardrobes according to size. If we let weight rule our feelings about our friends, especially women, we would be fickle friends, indeed.

Even though I think that our perceptions of ourselves are harsh, I am not exempt from this mentality. First, there is such a thing as being healthy and obesity is not healthy. However, the range of healthy weight for my height is a range of 30 pounds. Meaning that someone can be on the heavier side and still be healthy. I have to admit, however, that for appearance sake, I'd rather be on the low side of aformentioned range. Part of my preference stems from being 50 pounds over my normal weight at one time in my life. I felt the lack of respect by my peers and heard the disappointment in comments from family members, who thought I'd "let myself go". You have to admit, that looking at an obese person, your first feeling is that they lack self-control, or at least self-respect: or maybe self-love?

I have been doing Weight Watchers now for three weeks and have lost 8 pounds. I am so proud of myself because I feel like I care enough for my body to make healthy eating choices; it only took a slight nudge in the form of a 9-week commitment and paying out enough money that I would not throw away. I think we are all in different places in our lives that I hope I would not look at someone (most of all, myself) and judge them for such a petty thing as their weight. We are all too good for that!

A New Tag

2008-02-18T17:31:00.000-08:00

"I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."

--Agatha Christie

I think we all have difficut times where we do not realize our blessings. It's especially hard to stop and smell the roses when we are rubbed raw by the razor-sharp minutea of our lives. I have been reading a fabulous book this year called, "Simple Abundance". It is a collection of essays for everyday of the year. It has helped me to refocus and remember it is ok to take time for yourself. Sarah Ban Breathnach, the author, offered a challenge and so I pass it on to you: think about the things you love in life that are simple, everyday things. Some of mine are: drinking hot chocolate while watching a snowstorm outside, a baby smiling at me, the thrill of walking into a book or fabric store, reading something that makes me laugh out loud, learning something I never thought about before. Please, leave a comment about what you discover in yourself.

Four Weeks post birth

2008-01-25T21:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the four week mark after having the baby. He just started his baby acne this week. I feel so sympathetic since I spent years in that pimply phase; conscious of people's poor first impressions but helpless to change it. As the Mom I feel like I have to excuse his appearance. To counteract the red splotches on his face, Alex decided to start full-on smiling at people this week too. The good definitely outweighs the bad in this case.
The baby has also grown so much he is too big for a lot of his newborn stuff--it makes me so sad. I also really noticed the yuck factor going up to astronomical heights as far as changing my 3-year-old's dirty diapers. I thought I had maxed out on gagging when I was morning sick and changing diapers, but I was wrong. Now, not a changing goes by without my gentle (or not so) reminders to Aidan that he should start using the toilet. It probably does not help that there is some freak rule of nature that they have dirty diapers at the same time, so comparisons are hard to avoid.
Today is my daughter's birthday--trying my best to make it special and not be a wet blanket.

"Beautiful Disaster" part two

2008-01-25T21:25:00.001-08:00

OK, it's the last day of the week and I was so busy I could not write sooner. Wednesday things got a little rougher. I couldn't find much for lunch or snacks for the kids. I broke down that night and asked the Lewis' to barter some dishwasher soap. I think I'd had enough of hand washing everything during the day, plus I was elbow deep in bread dough and simultaneously making broccoli chicken casserole. I also had a crying baby, a daughter to pick up from her friend's, and a husband flat on his back in bed, from throwing out his back two days before while shoveling the drive way. I guess that was about all I could take.

Anyway, after we ate 2 hours late, I was feeling better as I flipped on (oh joy!) the dishwasher. The days that followed were a little easier, though we were still rationing our food. As of tonight, we still have milk and some bread. What really saved me this week was my freezer, I think. I only have one and I'm ready to buy another one.

Our Beautiful Disaster

2008-01-22T22:01:00.000-08:00

My Official Journal of Emergency Preparedness:

OK, I'm a loser. I forgot to keep a journal the first two days of the "disaster". But let me start from the beginning: on Sunday afternoon we received a note from our church leadership that a few families (the bishoprics) would be asked to live for the next 5 days on their food storage. In other words, no shopping this week, starting essentially right then. A part of the injunction is that we could not tell anyone about it and we could only trade/barter with those participating. I took this to mean I could not call up Connie, Ann, or someone to pick up some milk for me at Costco, which was my first inclination. Always the whiner, my reaction was to explain why this would not be a good idea for us right then; i.e. I just had a baby, we've been living off food storage since he was born, I had not been to Costco in a month, I'm still trying to remember how to cook, etc. So basically, my excuses got lamer and lamer. The Bishop was not impressed.

I ran down to my food storage in the basement as soon as he left to asess the damage. Shockingly, I was in better shape than I first thought. I was still quite stressed.

My kids thought it was hilarious; they ran around yelling out potential emergencies that could have caused our dilemma. The funniest to my 11-year-old was a toss up between a hurricane or a tsunami, considering our land-locked location. For some reason, I found this exercise quite annoying in my strung-out state and I have to admit I was not very nice about it.

Anyway, we made it through Monday with relatively few casualties. Our biggest inconvenience has been no dishwasher soap since Sunday. I decided to put the kids in charge of hand-washing all week and call it an exercise in gratitude. Besides all the yelling and spilled water on the kitchen floor, it has worked out well. I made tacos on Monday. I made crock-pot stew and Rhodes rolls tonight. My ingenuity may be put to the test tomorrow night, but at least we'll be more than half-way through then.

Two Weeks After B-Day

2008-01-12T16:39:00.000-08:00

So now it's been two weeks since Alex was born. I have been taking things very easy-reading and watching TV. I consider myself a veritable expert on the fashion industry of the last few years because of all the Project Runway and America's Next Top Model marathons I've been watching. The baby has been doing well, as far as newborns go; eating every 2-3 hours day and night, many diaper changes and lots of naps.
I actually like my new recluse status. I have not ventured out to the insanity of the grocery store and have not spent much money (I've had proxy shoppers that get me only what I have written on my list--no impulse buys). I pretty much hold the baby as much as I can and enjoy this stage because I know how quickly it will fly by.
My poor 3-year-old has manifest increasing shyness as part of his adjustment to having a little brother. It's almost paralyzing for him at times, where he does not want to go to other people's houses or answer people's questions (including his mother's). I hope in the long run it will be worth the sacrifice for him. It seems like he has had to stop being a baby and grow into a little boy the last two weeks.

Hurray!

2008-01-05T22:24:00.000-08:00

My pregnancy finally came to an end with the birth of Alexander David Kelley on December 27th. He was 8 lbs. and 1 oz. and 22 inches. I was so happy that he was healthy and everything went relatively smooth. I was also so happy to end my pregnancy a week earlier than my due date. We are doing well a week later--just adjusting to having a newborn.

Countdown: Zero

2007-12-26T21:39:00.000-08:00

Yes, the countdown is done, I will have a baby tomorrow (mostly likely). I had my hand forced a bit because my Dr. sprung the news on me, very belatedly, that she is leaving town the day after tomorrow. She insisted she had not told me so I would not base my decision on her, whether to be induced or not. Little did she know me, because even though I told her I had my last baby when my midwife took off out of town she did not realize there was no way I was duplicating that experience.
So now I am having the schizophrenic experience of both looking forward to ending the torture of the final days of pregnancy and feeling guilty that I'm going against nature by making this child be born. There's just something so unnatural about pumping artificial chemicals into your blood stream to trick your body into going in labor. Of course my Dr. assures me that this actually is more healthy for the baby, "studies have shown." I would like to get my hands on that research or study article. I have to admit I have a shadow of suspicion about physicians that seem trigger-happy on the pitocin.
I do feel excited about meeting the newest member of our family face-to-face instead of just being kicked by him all the time. I hope the adjustment is an easy one for all our children. It's hard when they did not get the choice to start with. When I was pregnant with my last baby, my three-year-old son told me that he decided he wanted a puppy, not a new brother. Wow, I said, too bad it's too late to make that decision! Poor kid, he only had the illusion of having some say in it. Well, I had better sleep, since it's my last chance!

Smooth on the surface, but Turbulent below

2007-12-17T21:48:00.000-08:00

This is not only a descriptive title for the state of my stomach right now, but it also applies to my life. From appearances I have scaled back quite a bit on my social, school, church and family engagements, but I still feel completely overwhelmed. When people ask how I'm doing (which everyone invariably does), I don't know how to answer them. When I say "Completely miserable," they get this look of pity/panic in their eyes, as if they are wondering what I want from them and how they should deal with this obviously hysterical 9-month pregnant woman. If I say, "Good, thanks," they have a look of relief but I feel like I am not being truthful (which, as everyone who knows me will acknowledge, I am not good at being anything less than brutally honest).
So here I am, days away from having my fifth child, and I feel stuck in such limbo. People are not kidding when they say, "If you have not lived through the last month of pregnancy, you have not really been pregnant." I can't remember a time I have felt this miserable for this long. It's for sure worse than last time, right? I can't remember, despite that only being 3 years ago. Every step is agony and I feel like I've aged at least 30 years, probably more. I also have the annoyingly persistant thought, "This baby could come at any time!" I think that is just an unfair joke that all pregnant women have to be the brunt of (I guess there actually are women who are right that say that). So I feel on the verge of going to the hospital any minute--both hoping for that and dreading it since I am not ready for the baby yet. Well, I will keep everyone posted, like it or not.

Two Months to Go!

2007-11-02T14:57:00.000-07:00

It's funny how one can get used to the feeling of all one's internal organs simultaneously turning over at the same time. Although that is not what is happening in my naval, it certainly feels that way. I span the range between feeling amazed and feeling extremely uncomfortable every time the baby moves around like this (and it happens quite often). I've started having dreams about being able to see the baby through my skin because it has somehow turned translucent; or my favorite is that a hole has mysteriously opened up in my stomach and I can see the baby's face. The funny thing is, it does not disturb me in the dream like it would in an awake state.
Last night we shined a flashlight straight into my stomach and I really think it awoke the baby. He started moving when he'd seemed asleep before. This morning my two-year-old sang a song right on my stomach and that seemed to have the same effect. I saw on the National Geographic Channel that babies can even dance in the womb by jerking their bodies in rhythm to a familiar song.

A Glorious Time in my Life

2007-08-27T21:20:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am currently in a special time in my life. I am experiencing the joys of a fifth pregnancy. I know, don't be too jealous. It is a time of introspection-- reflection on my life and how far I've come. A time to enjoy the changes my body is going through and daydreaming of the moment I get to hold our new baby. In other words, a time that I hope I will get through and still retain some of my brain cells, if not any of my sanity.
I recently made it through my own personal hell, or like some people like to call it; the 1st trimester. I have just started to care about important things again, such as feeding my children and husband, maintaining family and other relationships (by talking to other human beings), and personal hygiene. The nightly nausea had become so familiar to me I miss its absence in my life. In fact, I was missing it just today.
I had my 21 week check up today. It went really well. The baby measured just right and the heartbeat sounded good. There was one concern though; I have been gaining too much weight apparently. I took this very seriously and am now in the process of thinking about it as I make my special homemade chocolate chip cookies. I think the the advice the Doctor gave me was very good--eat protein and vegetables, light on the carbs.

My Supernatural Life

2007-05-29T20:33:00.000-07:00

When I was young, I was fascinated with all things supernatural. I mean this in the broadest sense: ghosts, E.S.P., myths, magic, vampires, etc. I checked out all the books in our school library dealing with these things at least twice. Several I checked out much more than that. I especially was interested in Poltergeists and the theory that they were generated from the person's mind who was at the center of it. One particular book had an actual picture of a ghost in it. I'm embarrassed to admit that when I was in college I even looked up Parapsychologist in the phone book, hoping to have some kind of GhostBusters career myself.

Sometimes my interest in the supernatural conflicted with my real life, or at least nearly got me in trouble. One day when I was probably twelve or so, I was reading a book about Ancient Egypt and the myths and stories that accompany that topic. One of them was that pyramids have secret powers; not just the ones in Egypt, but anything that is pyramid-shaped. The book claimed that this power could be manifest through the sharpening of razor blades under the auspices of the pyramid. Well, it just so happened my parents had visited Egypt a couple of years earlier (sans children, of course) and brought back a souvenir. Yes, lucky for me they brought a 2-inch high bronze replica of a great pyramid. It was placed on a shelf near the television in our family room. I remembered seeing a flat razor blade in my father's tools. I was pretty certain that razor blade was dull. I promptly retrieved the razor blade and placed it, barely fitting, under the miniature pyramid. The book had not mentioned any time period for the sharpening to occur, so I decided it needed some time. Unfortunately, I never got to test my hypothesis. Soon after I forgot about the razor blade and went on with my life. A few months later, I heard an exclamation from my mother in the family room. When I caught wind of what was causing the commotion, I ducked out of the area, trying to look inconspicuous. Sure enough, however, my Father brought the razor blade over to me and said,

"Look what someone left on the shelf in the family room! Someone could have really been hurt!"

I think I muttered something like,

"Imagine that!"

My Dad immediately went and threw the life-threatening razor away. With my experiment gone, I dared not try again, fearing I would not get off so easy next time. Fortunately, my parents did not pursue the investigation further and forgot all about it. As a result of the untimely death of my experiment, I'm left wondering to this day how sharp that razor really was.

London

2007-05-19T22:18:00.000-07:00

The Great Bike Crash of 2007

2007-05-19T21:40:00.001-07:00

Today was full of adventure--not in a good way, though. Dave, my husband, was riding in a 100 mile bike race today, so he left at 6:30 this morning. After dragging myself out of bed at 7:30 AM, I made pancakes for my four children. This took a little while because my two year old insisted on "helping". By 8 AM I was ready to crack the whip and get Jameson, 10; Sarah, 8; and Nathan, 6, to do something around the house. For some reason, this is as painful to them as fingernail torture and they are not quiet about it. After some success in this arena (motivational incentives work best), I had each of them going on one project or another. As I was congratulating myself on making a dent in our housework, the phone rang. I saw on the I.D. that it was my husband. Odd that he's calling during the race, I naively thought. When I answered, I could not detect any stress in his voice, but he asked me to pick him up because he got in a wreck. At first I thought he meant his car, then realized he meant his bike. The very same bike he had just purchased five days before. The bike he had just purchased because his road bike had been stolen out of our garage a week before.
I tried to orient my thoughts but hung up before I asked what happened. I got dressed, put the children in order, grabbed Aidan to go with me and jumped in the car. After driving for 40 minutes, numerous phone calls to Dave among others, and going to the wrong place twice, I ended up at the park Dave had been transported to.
He was missing skin in several places, the worst of which was his right elbow and knee. It was pretty raw looking. Although in good spirits, Dave was hurting. Mostly his right shoulder, where he felt shooting pain and he had difficulty breathing. After talking to him and eventually his friends who witnessed it, the crash was more on the spectacular side than benign. Dave was riding in a pack and drafting (having a blast, he said) when the guy in front of him braked suddenly, bouncing off his tire Dave swerved to the side. Unfortunately, there was a four inch drop there and gravel which caused Dave to fall forward, his bike going over him. He landed on his shoulder, then four other bikers either rode over him and then flipped over their bikes or flipped before they reached him and landed on him. One friend described it as looking like a yard sale with bikes and bodies scattered around.
After loading up the car with the broken bike and broken husband, we headed home. Although Dave really wanted to drop off his bike before we went home, I insisted we check on the children who had been alone for the last hour and a half. Eventually Dave did convince me to drop off his bike to be repaired (a good couple of hours before he saw a Dr. to be repaired himself, talk about priorities!). Marian, Dave's Mom, came over to help, which was a good thing, since I had a miserable husband and 2-year-old. Aidan had had a fever for three days, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone and take them both to the doctor. The diagnosis? A torn muscle in Dave's right shoulder and a double ear infection for Aidan.

Liz and the Barbie

2007-05-18T18:49:00.000-07:00

When I was about seven I was playing at my best friend, Liz Lemen’s house. We had something of a volatile relationship—getting along great one moment and hating each other’s guts the next. One advantage I had was knowing her weakness, and I wasn’t afraid to use it. In fact, I fully exploited it if I felt the need. This particular time we were playing barbies together. She had just gotten a new one from her Mom the day before. Liz had the good fortune (as I saw it) to be the baby of her family and experiencing a divorce in her family, so her parents had been guilt-driven enough to buy her toys that my parents would never buy me. It so happened I really wanted to play with that Barbie. Liz did not like that idea and tried to offer me attractive alternatives. When I rejected them one by one we both became more and more frustrated. Since we were unsupervised (she also had the good fortune to be a latch-key child), I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got up and walked out.
Liz followed me, starting to cry. I told her, sorry, I was not going to stay and play if she wouldn’t share her new toy with me. I started walking down the side walk. About this time, I realized I only had my socks on. Simultaneously, I heard her call my name. With a triumphant smirk, she held up a pair of sneakers: mine. She said,
“You left your shoes! You can’t leave without your shoes!”
“That’s fine, I don’t even need my shoes!” I said with more bravado than I felt. It was a three block walk back to my house, a thought I did not relish. At this crucial interchange, I knew I had thrown down the gauntlet, would she pick it up or fold?
“Fine! Please come back! You can play with the Barbie!” She said this as she started to cry again. True to my word, I came back and played. I was somewhat of a mercenary seven-year-old.

Market Street Grill

2007-05-18T14:36:00.000-07:00

I patronized the Market Street Grill one Wednesday at lunch with my husband, David, for the first time. As I perused the menu, I saw the lunch special was parmesan-crusted-flounder. I contemplated this option and was almost about to choose it, when something out of the ordinary occurred.
Let me stop here and say that as normal as this dining experience sounds, it wasn’t. First, I hate fish. I have hated fish my whole life. When I’ve had the misfortune of being compelled to eat it, I have barely managed to chew it without losing it or holding my nose, not to mention swallow it. Secondly, the only reason I considered walking into such an establishment was we were turned away from the steak restaurant next door (the lunch special being Petite Filet Mignon in Bernaise sauce, my favorite) because my husband did not have his I.D. which was necessary to get in a private club. Since I did not consider walking the four blocks back to my car in 4-inch heels because I was hot, starving and developing a blister on my big right toe, I agreed to the seafood restaurant.
With much trepidation, I walked into the restaurant with my husband. Now, as I mentioned, I was timidly considering the lunch special of the day, flounder, instead of whimping out and ordering the French dip. I decided to ask the waitress if this would be a good choice for someone who absolutely detested seafood. I decided to slightly veil what I was really asking by saying,
“Is this fishy?”
As the waitress was saying it was a mild fish (mildly fishy, or good mannered, or-- what?), I noticed the woman at the table next to me growing impatient. Suddenly she broke in, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I heard you asking the waitress about the Parmesan-Crusted-Flounder.”
As she said this, she made an attempt to grasp my sleeve since she was in striking distance. I discreetly tried to prevent this by holding my arm as close to my body as I could. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the Muumuu-clad woman, I am just not in the habit of having complete strangers grab my arm.
“I just want you to know,” she continued, “that I came here last Wednesday and had that special and it was the best fish dinner I’ve had in my life!”
Although slightly repulsed, I could not help but be impressed by the violent exuberance the woman displayed in this particular menu item and I have to admit I went ahead and ordered it. It was fabulous, by the way.