Conversation with Brody the other night:

Brody: "Mom, Santa has to bring me a DS. He HAS to!"
Not really liking the tone of that statement I asked, "Or what?"
Brody: "Or a Wii would be fine, too."

This kid could be a politician.

Food Bandit

Today Aiden had a friend over and they decided to build a fort up in the playroom. Devin was pretty sure she had seen Aiden in the pantry at some point during the fort building. She became suspicious that Aiden had taken food up there to enhance her fort experience. She went up and asked, "Aiden, do you have food in there?"

Pregnant pause, then"Um, yes."

"Aiden, what's the rule about food?"

Another pause, and then "Um, no food outside the kitchen?"

"Right. So why did you do that?"

Much louder this time, "Well, how was I supposed to know that's the rule?"

Hmmm.

Look Who Ran Her First 5K, and, oh yeah, Won!!

I haven't blogged in so long, I'm actually nervous to begin this post. I feel like I may fail, somehow. I have no idea what that means, but the feeling is there, nonetheless. But I digress.

I just have to have a bragging moment here. My little Devin ran her first 5k this summer. And won!! Well, in her category, anyway. She got up at 7 every morning this summer to run Cross Country. I think she only missed twice and really increased her stamina. It was awesome to watch her run her first 5k. Her ability to just keep going fascinates me. I've never been a runner. I get winded just watching her. I don't believe I've ever run more than a mile, and that was just because I didn't want to look like a complete wimp next to my sister, who was on the next treadmill over. That same sister ran the 5k with Devin this summer. She was here visiting from Oregon and when she found out that Devin was thinking about doing it, she told her she would run with her. Devin smoked her, but I was so proud of both of them. My sister has run for years off and on, but hadn't been running consistently for awhile. But she decided to just do it. Cool.

I've had dreams for years of being a runner. I don't mean fantasies. I mean real dreams. Like in my sleep. I have these dreams of running through my neighborhood with these really long strides that feel awesome, I'm not winded at all and I just feel euphoric. But whenever I've tried this out in real life, my lungs are burning within seconds, my legs are quivering, and trust me, euphoria is nowhere on the horizon. I think it's very rude of my psyche to tease me like this. I think dreams should come true. And I think they should come true with no training or work involved, whatsoever. Is that so wrong?

Our family got memberships to the rec center last month. Actually, two months ago. I've been once. And I didn't run. I watched my kids run. And you know what I realized as I watched them? My lungs weren't burning, my legs weren't quivering and I actually felt quite euphoric watching the little angels run.

My dreams are whacked.

Oh, baby!

How do I love this commercial? Oh, let me count the ways! Every time I watch it, I notice something else that just makes me gut laugh. Almost makes me want to have another one. Almost.

And they say money can't buy happiness...

Lego Man

Ok, I know your kids are geniuses, too, but really, can they top this?  Hah!  Devin and Brody made this the other day on the Mac with still shots.  It's awesome.

My Daughter, the Vulcan

Matt and I went to see the new Star Trek movie the other week. If you were a fan of the 60's Star Trek, you have got to go see this movie! I loved it! I didn't even want to see it, but then I heard some great reviews for it. And then I found out it was JJ Abrams. That man can do no wrong! Of course, now that I've said that, I'll probably hate the next thing he does. But not yet.

I was telling Devin about the movie and she said she wanted to see it. I explained to her that she really wouldn't get it if she hadn't watched the old tv episodes. So guess who's been watching Star Trek nonstop on YouTube for the last two weeks? She has become a true trekkie. However, I think "Trouble with Tribbles" creeped her out a little.

So she sends me this email the other day. I watched it, thinking that something is just a little off with that Vulcan face. Then I realized it was Devin's face! I about wet my pants. And she had written the whole thing that he/she says.

Check it out: http://www.trekyourself.com/?mId=30309295.2

I'm a proud Vulcan mama.

Baseball, Birthdays and Blessings

I really hate that my blog has become just a place to post quick updates about our family. I love to write, but since starting my job, my brain is mush by 7pm. So's my body. My body's been mushy much longer than I've had my job. But I'm going to blame the job anyway.

So summer has officially begun. Well, not officially, since summer doesn't officially start until June 21, but you catch my drift. School's out. Summer begins. Officially.

We bought the kids a summer pass to our new city pool. They are able to get themselves there on their scooters or by walking, so I'm hoping it will keep them entertained. Jordan is working there as a lifeguard and a swim instructor. We've had pretty stinky weather since school got out, but the kids have all managed to get tan anyway. Wish I could do that!

Brody has begun coach pitch baseball. Matt's still sure Brody's left-handed pitching is going to pay off! If we could just get his wind up to last a little less than 4 full seconds.We celebrated Matt's 44th birthday as school was ending. Jordan baked him a cake and was so mad that her 77 cent trick candles were a bust. Good effort, Jo! And thanks for baking Dad that awesome cake!

He huffed and he puffed and he then he coughed and he sputtered.

Speaking of getting old, this is how the over 40 crowd spends their Saturday nights,now--laying around on the shiatsu massager and hanging upside down for a little spine traction. That's my idea of a good time!
I'm a little bummed that we're grounded here again for another summer because of our jobs. But then I remember that we have jobs. Then I remember to count my blessings, for they are bountiful. And that's official.

TA DA!!!!



Devin's teeth really weren't that bad before, but now they're perfect! I hope they stay that way. Mine sure didn't. But Devin does everything better than I ever did. I don't even remember having a retainer.
I guess that tells you how much I wore it.



And check this out.
Here was the balance we owed on Devin's braces today.


And here is the amount of my first paycheck.
Serendipitous, wouldn't you say? Or sad. I haven't decided which, yet.
All I know is I've got 43 cents to show for a over a weeks worth of work.
Nordstrom's, here I come!

Tomorrow's the day!

These babies are coming off tomorrow! Devin whipped through her braces in less than a year and a half. Which is great for her. Not so great for me. I figured I'd have a good 2 years to pay off that $4000 bill. Pure insanity. We're definitely in the wrong business. But I'm excited for her. I'll post before and after pictures tomorrow!

Working 9 To 5

Seriously. I'm not kidding. I'm working 9-5. Every day. All day. I don't know how this happened.

About 5 months ago, I decided I needed to get a J-O-B. I dragged my feet for the next 41/2 months. Nothing fit into the ideal job that I had dreamed up in my head. You know, that job that I could do in my pajamas. That job where I could choose my own hours, preferably late evening, when I seem to be at my peak. That job where I earn at least $19.63/hr. with the laptop on my lap, HGTV playing in the background, chilled Dr. Pepper at my side. It could happen!

Alas, my perfect job did not drop in my lap. Imagine that. One day I saw an ad for a receptionist for a medical office. They were asking for a receptionist who was willing to treat their patients like their best friend, to really make the patients comfortable. HELLO! Does that not just scream me?! Am I not the friendliest, most comfortable person you know? Don 't answer that. Well, at least I knew I could fake it pretty well.

Regardless of having no medical office experience, and a fairly spotty resume, I passed two interviews and was offered the job last Tuesday. I must say, it was definitely a Sally Field moment for me ("You like me! You really like me!") Unfortunately, they wanted me to begin work the next morning. Um, sure. So I had about 6 hours to rearrange our entire lives and clock in by morn. I had been driving a car full of little boys home every day after Kindergarten, along with my own son. I had to call the moms and let them know I couldn't get them anymore. And then I had to ask one of those moms to now pick Brody up every day until my sister could pick him up from her house. One of Brody's journal entries at school last week read like this: "On Munday I go to Jacks haws and play in then my ant cums and pics me up and I go ovr thr and I play then my sistr cums and pics me up."

Oh, holy guilt trip. Someone please reassure me that my kids will be fine, that they will not grow up to be sociopaths because their mother went back to work after being home for 17 years!

It's been a full week and we have survived. We have, dare I say, even thrived. The kids seem to really be kicking it into gear. I have a vacuumed floor, dishes loaded and rooms cleaned when I come home. Granted, we are still in the honeymoon phase, but they really seem to be wanting to do their part. I'm afraid Mom has been unwilling to "let" the kids help out as much as they should have over the last couple of years. I have this problem of wanting things done a certain (right) way, so I tend to just do it myself. Matt's been trying to convince me lately to stop folding the teenagers clothes. "No one folded my clothes past 12 years old!" But I can't help myself! I like laundry! I like to vacuum! I think I need a 12 step program. Instead, I got a job.

I'll keep you "posted" on life after the honeymoon. I'm sad that my blog will probably suffer because of this. I really, really like my blog. But the bottom line is, I like my job. I like the people I work with. I like the money. I just have to not think about the things I'll miss. Like Mom's day at kindergarten on Friday. The end of year dance festival at school. Watching my daughter get her braces off next Thursday. Waaaa! Waaaa!

This job is a blessing. This job is a sacrifice. It's a blessrifice. Dang, I'm good. Is it any wonder they hired me? Don 't answer that.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, how do you get your dang garden to grow like that?

Mother Nature has finally had mercy on us. We spent a glorious 70 degree day outside today. It was downright hard to believe after having 8 inches of snow just 4 days ago. But we took full advantage of it. We spent the afternoon on the trampoline, doing some weeding and finally getting our seeds planted for our garden. We will let them germinate inside for several weeks and then transplant them into our garden. Do I sound like I know what I'm doing? Hah, fooled ya. I know nothin' about gardens. I have the blackest thumbs you've ever seen.




We've done a garden for a couple of years now, but I don't seem to be learning much. Really, I just plant some stuff, cast a spell or two and hope for the best. I do seem to have really good luck with tomatoes, peppers and herbs. In fact, I've been pretty successful with my salsa garden. But that's about it. My lettuce is bitter. My carrots don't grow deeper than 2 inches into the ground. My corn looks like a bad set of dentures. We only got one good cantaloupe last year. And the fact that no one will help me weed really does not add to the good karma I need surrounding my garden. I hate weeding. No wait. I love weeding. No wait. I hate the thought of weeding, but once I start, I can't stop! My OCD kicks in and I can't quit till every last stinking weed is out. And then I get a little huffy cuz' everyone else fizzled out after 10 minutes and I spent the better part of my Saturday weeding, just to produce some bitter lettuce and 2 inch carrots!! But does that stop me? Heck no! Plant, I will! (And who likes carrots, anyway?)




This year we're taking a slightly different approach. The kids each picked their own vegetable to plant, water, weed, talk to, and tuck in at night. Yeah, they're all jazzed about it now, but wait until Mom's yanking them out of bed this summer to get to the weeding before the sun fries us all.



Regardless, we had a great time today, planting our seeds with the hope of a bounty of delicious things to eat this summer. It could happen! Now, if I could just find those darn seed packets of silver bells and cockle shells...

IM2DUM2BAMOM

My daughter Devin is my homebody. My "can't be bothered with this silly social stuff" kid. Don't get me wrong. She has friends. She hangs out with friends. But she never initiates it. Ever. If no one calls her to hang, she is more than content to stay at home, playing with siblings, drawing, making cookies, doesn't really matter. I am always trying to encourage her to get out there more and spend a little more time with friends. Call somebody up. She will generally have none of that. Just can't be bothered, that one.

I was pretty sure my "encouraging" had fallen on deaf ears. Until last night. At about 10 pm she closed her cell phone and announced, "Two hours! I just texted Ashley for two hours!"

"Wow", I replied, slightly horrified at the statement. "Is that a good thing?"

"Well, Mom, you're the one who's always saying I need to work on my social skills!"


Yeah, Dev. That's what I meant.

Spring Break. Whatever.

April 16th. Spring break. This is what we woke up to this morning. Yay. I'm breaking out the sunscreen as we speak.

Last year on this day it was 70 degrees! Ok, so last spring break we didn't do anything all that exciting, but we COULD have! Not this year. Except maybe sledding. Been there. Done that.

In some ways, this was actually the worst we've been hit all year, because the leaves have budded and the blossoms have bloomed, so the snow had a lot more surface area to sit on. Hence, we lost some good limbs off several brave and valiant trees. It's okay, trees. You put up a good fight. We don't blame you. Unfortunately, we found a tree Matt had just planted two days before was laying completely on it's side, gasping for breath. Please accept my apologies for not getting a photo of that.

Despite the slightly depressing aspect of it being SPRING BREAK and all, it was quite beautiful and sparkly this morning. And cold. Oh, and did I mention it's SPRING BREAK?!

Here's a couple of before's and after's, lest you think I exaggerate. (Which you never ever in a million, trillion years, would!)


I'm not taking any chances. Next spring break, we're heading to Palm Beach. Or at least St. George.

Or not.

Dear Mom...

Here is a transcript of a letter Aiden slipped under my bedroom door.

Dear Mom,
teacup yorkies are adorible. u cant be alirjick to them. they r small as a teacup. I know you hate the poo but we could get a dirt pile and put a fence around it. so it would go in the dirt pile and no were else. we would put a chelter/cenel out there if it rains. I will pay. I will take care of it.
PLEASE

Dear Aiden,
Teacup Yorkies are adorible, in their own little way. I suppose. But if anyone can be alirjick to them, it would be you. I'm sorry to point this out, Sweetie, but they are not really as small as a teacup. And if they were, I'm pretty sure that would creep me out. If you'll notice, that Yorkie is just spilling right over the top of that teacup. I think the description is false advertising, if you ask me.

Now, can you explain how if we were to build a fence around the dirt pile that he will poo in, then how will he get in it to use it? Hmm. A riddle wrapped up in an enigma.

And you're right. Dad is capable of building one wicked chelter/cenel out there, but seeing as we still don't have all the knobs on our kitchen cabinets three years after building, I think Dad's efforts would be better applied elsewhere.

Alas, I know you offered to pay for it, but I did my homework, and it's pretty much college or a yorkie. I know that's an easy choice for you, seeing as you're only 9, but I really really need you to go to college. Afterall, who will pay for my nursing home when I'm a lonely old widow lady and all I have to keep me company is an adorable little teacup yorkie?

P.S. I admire your persistence.

P.P.S. Spelling homework right after dinner.

Easter 2009

We had a great Easter Sunday. However, the kids got their Easter baskets by the hair on my chinny chin chin! (Ew.) Devin came in at 7am and noticed the Easter bunny had not been there yet! I made a quick call to the Easter Bunny (thank goodness for unlimited long distance on my cell phone!) He showed right up and took care of business! I don't know how he did it, but do it he did! Whew! Disaster averted for another year.

Of course, we went to church where we heard beautiful testimonies bearing witness of Jesus Christ. He is not Here

by

Walter Rane

After church, our friends the Williams came over to have dinner with us. Well, Jan actually supplied most of the dinner. I only had to make rolls and dessert. Like I said, it was a great day. After dinner Jan taught us how to paint Easter cookies. They turned out adorable, and were yummy, to boot! Here is a sample of some of our cookies.

Hope you all had a wonderful joy-filled Easter!

The Shoe is on the Other Foot. Oh Look, It's on This One, Too!

Last night I was talking to some friends about being a shoe person or not a shoe person. I don't mean like having a weakness for buying really fabulous shoes, like my friend, Meg. I'm talking about wearing shoes. As in all day long. That's me. I'm a shoe gal.

Meet my shoes.

My shoes are something akin to my BFF. They go on my feet first thing in the morning, and are the last thing to come off at night. Nothing gets done around my house until the shoes are on the feet. I have an issue with stepping on crunchies or anything wet or sticky. And as valiant a housekeeper as I try to be, there is almost always something crunchy or wet or sticky on my kitchen floor. The little angels you see above this post are surprisingly crunchy, wet and sticky people. Therefore, the shoes are crucial in my ability to accomplish anything around my house. I have developed a personal relationship with these shoes. Sometimes I think they have a personality, like they can even feel certain emotions, such as these:

Anger: Hey lady, watch what you're stepping in!
Pain: Excuse me, but you haven't put on a pound or ten lately, have you?
Sarcasm: No, no, really. I don't mind. That beating your giving me is good for my character! Sheesh!
Jealousy: Fine. Wear the red patent leather heels. They think they're so hot. Just answer this one question. Have they always been there for you like I have? Can they give you the support I give you? So what if that was two questions. Whatever. Talk to the foot.
Happiness: Yay! Here she comes! She likes me, she really likes me!

Does this make me crazy? I don't know and really, I don't care. My shoes make me happy. And productive. And comfortable. And happy.

And don't get me wrong. I'm also the Meg kind of shoe girl. I wasn't lying about the red patent leather heels. But mostly I'm the schizo kind of personality-bearing shoe wearer described above. And that pleases me. And the voices in my head.

Squish in My Step

Yesterday I posted about my heart soaring over the beauty and wonder of spring. Today I woke up full of misery and woe. Woe and misery. I was miserable in my woefulness. I was woeful in (record scratch) Ok, sorry. So here's the deal.

Last night it rained. Not big news, I know. It rains in Utah. And then it snows. Then it snains (that's a combination of the snow and rain together. I made that up. Do you think it will catch on?) But last night we had ourselves a torrential downpour. I'm talking Pacific Northwest eat your heart out kind of downpour. Matt and I were out driving and basking in it (we miss Oregon) and Matt kept saying how unusual it was for it to rain that heavy here. Then he kept saying, "This means flooding." And I mean kept saying, as in 4 or 9 times. Finally I said, "Ok, this means flooding, but for whom?" (And yes, I said "whom". I'm always grammatically correct in my speech. Just ask my kids. We was just talking about that the other day.) Matt's answer was that he didn't know whom, but somebody.

Alas, that somebody was us. The girls came in at 6:30 this morning and said, "Dad, we've got a big problem downstairs." Crap. We both knew exactly what that meant. My man is nothing, if not prophetic. The storm we had basked in the night before had indeed flooded our basement. Apparently, our downspout is situated in an unfortunate way, and had drained into Jordan's window well all night. (That is not our Dr. Pepper can in the well. I repeat, not our Dr. Pepper can. We drink it out of bottles.)

We quickly cleaned out their bedrooms as best we could, pulled up the carpet and set the fans to work. And relatively speaking, it could have been a whole lot worse. No ankle deep water, just a lot of sloshy carpet.

Matt then went outside and promptly attached a big galvanized sewer pipe we had laying around (I'm sorry to say that's a true statement) and the water is now being forced off into a more appropriate direction. Too little, too late, really. The dang rain had turned to snain, and then snow overnight. At least we'll be prepared for the next downpour.Don't have to flood me twice! Lesson learnt!

Spring in My Step

“Spring is when you feel like whistling
even with a shoe full of slush.”
~Doug Larsen~

I don't even know who Doug Larsen is, but, man, did he nail it with that quote. He obviously lived in Utah at one point in his life.

Mark Twain said, " It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!" That pretty much sums it up. Have I mentioned I love spring?

There are things I love about each season, but spring makes my heart soar. I'm not an extreme temperature kind of gal, so spring caters to my desire to not be too hot or too cold. I absolutely love seeing the buds popping on the trees, my day lilies pushing up, my succulents springing to life.





I got so happy today, I went out and snapped a few photos. Not bad, eh?









(Thank you Heidi! I am forever in your debt!
Not literally, hopefully!)

Happy Birthday, First Born!

Seventeen years ago today, I became a mom when my little blonde haired, blue-eyed Jordan came into the world. Wow. That's almost hard to admit, grasp, believe. Any of those would fit nicely. I remember, before she came, having these grand visions of motherhood. My kids would always match, they would say please and thank you to their parents and every other human being, they would learn at least 3 musical instruments, they would have straight A's, they would have great hair (don't ask me why I think this is important, it just is), they would be neat freaks, they would be athletically inclined, they would have naturally straight teeth (it could happen!), they would learn to swim without swimming lessons, they would tan easily, they would love trying new foods, and most importantly, they would love mentoring and hanging out with their siblings (like one of those families where the siblings hug and kiss each other and actually say the words, "I love you" to each other. I know, that's just weird.)

Well, 2 out of 12 isn't bad. I'm not saying which 2.

I know, I know. What was I thinking? Believe it or not, I still think it. I still have visions of grandeur with the raising of my children. And my oldest is only going to be home another year or so!! Wait just a darn second! I'm not ready! We have 10 or so more things on that list to work on!

Alas, I'm going to have to let some of my control freak personality go. Just let it free, like the Progessive Lady (ooh, there it goes). Because really, my oldest may not have accomplished all the things on that list, but here's what she has accomplished:

1. Straight A's. Oops, I said I wouldn't tell which two. Well, that's only one.

2. A very strong personality with her own opinions about everything. And I mean that in a good way. She doesn't wait for her parent's opinions, she goes right ahead and just forms those suckers on her own. Imagine that.

3. A burning love and respect for her country.

4. A vision of her future. She is college bound and already knows she wants to be a social worker. Her parents are still trying to figure out what they want to do when they grow up.

5. A love of little children.

6. An excellent cook. She has surpassed me in the kitchen, and I am happy to hand over the apron to her! Now, if I could just get her to do the dishes afterward...

7. An excellent choice in friends. For a while, she seemed to be burning through her friends and it had her dad and I worried a bit. But after a while, we realized she has a lot of wisdom and has surrounded herself with really good people.

8. A piano player. Sort of. Click here.

9. A voracious reader. She can read a novel in one day. I'm not lying. She read the last Harry Potter in one night. Meaning, she didn't sleep the whole night and finished by morning. And she remembers every detail! No kidding. I can barely remember if I've read the book or not, she can tell you every character, their birth date and on what page they first appeared in the book.

10. Naturally straight teeth. Oops! I did it again.

Happy Birthday Jordan. You are a great kid and I'm sure your dad and I don't tell you that often enough. Thank you for all you've taught us. Thank you for being our guinea pig. Thank you for being my first child. First children hold a special place in their parent's hearts. Thank you for your not wrecking the car yet. You've got me beat by a year already.

I love you.


Here are a few other things I've learned since being a mother...
(and yes, I borrowed a "few" of these)

You Know You're a Mother When ...

You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.

You have time to shave only one leg.

You hide in the bathroom to be alone.

Your kid throws-up and you catch it.

Someone else's kid throws up at a party. You keep eating.

You hope ketchup is a vegetable, since it's the only one your child eats.

You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.

You donate to charities in the hope that your child won't get that disease.

You hire a sitter because you haven't been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night checking on the kids.

You curse the invention of cell phones when your child learns to dial you to tell you that his sister just used the "S" word. (You know, "stupid")

You use your own saliva to clean your child's face.

You say at least once a day, "I don't have the energy for this", but you know you wouldn't trade it for anything".