Oh No She Didn't

Today I offer a new and prestigious award. I call it the "U Suck" Award.

This award goes to the Bus Stop Mom. I've mentioned her before. She thinks my kids' names are far too common and I'm mean to send Matt to school when he cries. Maybe I am, but today she just took the cake.

Her son came running to the bus stop all sorts of excited that brothers and sisters could come to school today. I told him that I hadn't heard that. His mom asked if we were going to the feast today. I had no clue what she was talking about. Then she mentioned soup and it hit me.

Last Monday (over a week ago) a note was sent home saying the class was making a soup the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I saw that Matt was one of a few kids assigned to bring a can of potatoes or something (I did not see that families were invited). But, it wasn't grocery day yet and it I had over a week to get it in. Then life continued, the note got shuffled away somewhere and I forgot all about it.

So I realized that I had forgotten and I was feeling pretty bad about it and I wondered out loud if I would have a chance to bring the forgotten can to the school to add to the soup. Bus Stop Mom told me that we had to RSVP beforehand and they probably wouldn't have enough food for me. She began the winning descent to her award.

Finally the bus came and our sons got on the bus. I told Matt to have a good day and I love him and stood there for a second as I watched him settle into the bus. Bus Stop Mom started to say something to me, paused, and then smiled as broadly as she possibly could. She said, "You've made me feel very good about myself. At least I've got myself enough together to not forget about the feast." I stared at her. She continued saying that she's been feeling like her brain's not working right, but she's "not as bad" as me.

I think what upset me the most was feeling the need to explain myself to this woman. I even tried to a little, but she was so busy basking in the glow of her sudden happiness that she didn't acknowledge me.

So, with no further ado.....Bus Stop Mom, you have officially won the "U Suck" Award. I hope your inflated pride is large enough to hold your trophy for you.

Movin' On Up

In an effort to become our own people again, we have decided to go ahead and get a rental for now. We found a place that will do well for us, we just have to get everything in writing and we'll move in this coming Monday.

Here are some things I look forward to:

* Having more than three shirts to wear
* Pulling out my Christmas decorations
* Living in our own house
* Letting the kids have their toys (there's even a great toy room for them)
* Giving Tara and Jabon their sanity back

Here are some things I will miss:

* Being able to see Tara, Jabon and the boys often
* Having my workout buddy

Okay, I'm having difficulty getting past the excitement of having our own place again (no offense, Tara and Jabon). I'll post some pictures after we get in there. But it may take a while because my Christmas decorations are coming out the second I'm able to find them.

'Fessin' and Stuff

'Fess Up Friday

I exercised. I tried to eat right. I had a few days that I didn't. I lost a pound or two. I wish I could drop lots of weight immediately. It won't happen, so I'll just keeping pouting about that and keep trying. *Pout*

Zoolights

Last night we went to the Zoolights at the Phoenix Zoo. It was really cool. No exhibits were open, it was really dark, there were lots of people and we had to wait in some really long lines. But, it was still kind of cool to be there and it was even cooler later in the evening when most of the people were gone. It was almost like we had the whole park to ourselves. I liked that part the best.

Doctor's Office

Matt got his cast off his arm Friday morning. Everything is healing well, he just needs to rebuild the strength in his wrist. But his doctor's office is one of the worst I've ever been to. It's got a very crowded waiting room (with or without people) and wait we do. For a long time. Now, my question is, why is it that we are expected to be on time or even early for an appointment and we sit ignored for 40 minutes, but if we were to have shown up 40 minutes late and bypassed the waiting period we would've been denied our appointment? And I swear, if some medical person tells me some practical reason why this is, I promise you that I will go sockless and literally run around in my shoes all day long and then come to your medical office, take off my shoes, and rub my smelly, sweaty feet on your carpet.

I may need to go to bed.

The Council of Legendary Figures: The Decision

After much inner-turmoil, considering others' advice, and listening to Josh's perspective, we've decided to let the childhood continue. The deciding factor was Josh's response to my previous post: "DON'T DO IT! PLEASE!"



When Josh was growing up, Christmas was a very stressful time of year. To the extent that he didn't like Christmas. I know you're thinking, "What???? That can't be!!!" And I had no idea until a few days before our first Christmas after we were married. We had gotten a tag to go cut down our own Christmas tree. Unfortunately, Josh had been in a sledding accident just prior to our tree search and had a broken tailbone (although we didn't know it was broken at the time) and after a miserable trek through the woods, we returned to our little home with our tree. Josh was tired and we were bickering, so he went to bed. I tried to wake him so we could decorate our tree together, but he didn't want to get up. I was pretty upset because Christmas is definitely my favorite time of the year. I love the smell of the fireplaces, the Christmas goodies, the spirit of giving, the love and laughter of family and friends, the Hershey's Kisses bells commercial, and of course the celebration of the birth of our Savior. Every single bit of Christmas makes me happy. So when Josh wanted to sleep instead of decorate with me, I didn't understand it.



I later learned that Josh was trying to avoid the stress and arguing he usually associated with Christmas. I promptly taught him that he had the wrong attitude and we needed to have a wonderful Christmas together. Slowly, every year Josh came around a little more and then a little more.



Now my husband loves Christmas almost as much as I do. And for him to want our children to believe in Santa longer means something to me. Christmas is the time of miracles. We take the lessons that Jesus taught us and amplify them. We love, we give, we remember the importance of our family, we spend as much together as we possibly can. We won't do our usual bundling up and running through the blizzard outside to get to and from the car, but maybe it'll cool enough for us to drink hot chocolate and not die of a heat stroke. We'll let the Spirit of Christmas live in our home. And I love Pam's advice of "If you don't believe, you don't receive." I remember being told something like that growing up. Because we all need to believe. Believe in the miracles, believe in the goodness of Santa, believe in the happiness that accompanies this time of year.



So, yes, Virginia--I mean Emma, there is a Santa Claus!

The Council of Legendary Figures Expose!

When do you have the talk with your children?

I don't mean the "birds and the bees" or "just say no." I'm talking the "Santa's got a small budget and here is the reason why..." talk.

I was told the ugly truth the end of my second grade year. I was telling my mom that a few weeks ago, over Easter, I had seen the shadow of a six foot tall rabbit walking through our hallway. No, it wasn't Harvey. It was my childhood about to come to a halt. Of course, all through second grade all of my friends were questioning the existence of Santa, the Easter Bunny, and pretty much anyone else on the Council of Legendary Figures (watch The Santa Clause if you need more info about that). So, I wasn't shocked, but definitely disappointed.

Now, Emma is in third grade and Abby is in second. Is this the time for this talk? Do we wait until the girls demand answers? Might this need to be the year since we have an extremely limited Christmas budget and Emma has already written her letter to Santa asking for a pink Nintendo DS with red hearts on it with a carrying case and several specific games? She said she's asking Santa for the gift because she knows it's too expensive for us to buy for her.

I don't want to be the one to bring my baby's childhood to a halt. I also don't want to see her face when not even Santa can help her (Hello, Santa's trying to help us buy a new house!). Although, I am going to look online, Craigslist, Ebay, wherever I can for a deal. I'll try. But I can't promise to deliver.

When and how did you learn the truth of the Council of Legendary Figures?

Homeless

It's official.

The house has sold.

We are homeless.

Good thing Tara and Jabon let us squat at their house.

(Thanks, Tara and Jabon!)

That Same Old Routine

My latest 'Fess Up Friday spoke about stress. The tremendous amount of stress I've been feeling lately. It just seems like a lot of things have been out of control lately. I want a routine. I want MY routine. Everyday I want to get up and do the same ol', same ol'. I've discovered in my old age that routine is paramount in raising kids and overall daily life.

However, several years ago I would've rather died than accept routine in my life. I lived in the moment. Spontaneity was my middle name. At least it would've been if I knew how to spell it.

I was thinking about this while I was in the shower this morning (one of the best places to think). As a senior in high school, why did I hate the thought of keeping a routine? Then I remembered: I had virtually no responsibilities. I worked about 10 hours a week as the Snack Bar Girl at a roller skating rink. Out of my eight classes, only two, maybe three, required me to do homework. The only real responsibility I had was to be to school on time, and that didn't happen all that often. Nearly every morning I ran through the halls to get to the office. If I could convince those in charge of the morning announcements to allow me to give one of the announcements, then I could convince my first period teacher that I was only late because I was busy with my Student Council responsibilities ("You heard me giving the announcements, right?"). I'm pretty sure my teachers knew what I was doing, but luckily none of them actually called my bluff.

So in summary,

No Responsibilities = Me circa 1996

Tons of Responsibilities = Me circa 2009

And for now, that's okay. I'm willing to be boring if it will keep my life balanced and in check. Although I do miss making those morning announcements sometimes.

'Fess Up Friday

This week wasn't so great.

I missed a couple of days of exercise because we were so busy looking for a house. No house and no exercise. Not a happy combination.

I've been eating a little better, though, so I am down a pound or two. So that's good, I guess.

Here's the bad part. My will has begun to waiver because of the stresses around me. A screwed up housing market. Kids throwing up. A sick and fatigued husband. A baby that refuses to fall asleep at 1am. Intruding on family beyond what we should be. Money and the lack thereof. All of these things are hurting my mind, which then tells my body to shut down.

It's no wonder stress makes you fat. Beyond the chemical responses it creates, it just messes with your mind and makes you want to be catatonic for the rest of the day. Stupid stress.

How'd you do?

"There's Only One Reason You Play Cheatin' Songs"

Today's title is courtesy of the Judds, one of my favorite female duos EVER.





Josh and I did something today that we're not totally proud of....

We cheated on our realtor!

*GASP!*

I know! We probably shouldn't have, but we had begun to grow apart. He wanted one thing and Josh and I wanted another. The communication had broken down. I guess you can say, we had irreconcilable differences.

We happened across another realtor who seems to "get" us. She gave us the attention we wanted. She didn't pressure us. She made us feel special.

We are still on the look out for our house. There are some great probabilities. I've decided to gather as much of this info as I can and then I'll be happy to explain the Arizona market to everyone. It is messed up, screwy, and overall a pain to deal with. But, as they say, it's a great time to buy.

I know, I know....

It's not even Thanksgiving and I've already posted my first Christmas item. Directly above you will see the ElfYourself that I've already done this year. It's hilarious. I had to post it on the blog because I knew the kids would want to watch it over and over and over....

Anyway, that's why it's there.

Happy Birthday, Sesame Street!!

Today, November 10, Sesame Street turns 40. (Thank goodness it's older than me!) I love Sesame Street! It's probably one of the best shows to ever hit the airwaves.

Sesame Street taught me how to spell and how to write my name.

When I was four I remember asking for a Cookie Monster birthday cake. I wanted it so bad. Cookie is definitely my favorite character. I love his googly eyes, his long fuzzy fur, how great he looks in blue, and his affinity for cookies. He's my kind of man. (Yes, Josh, it is kind of unsettling how similar you are to my favorite childhood memory.)

If you haven't watched in a while, you've missed a new, fun character called Abby Cadabby. Of course, my Abby loves her. Not only is she a fairy, but she's pink. She's cute.

I saw this episode last season. Neil Patrick Harris was hilarious and made me laugh out loud. Here's a little clip of Neil as the Fairy Shoe Person. You can also see a bit of Abby Cadabby.

I'm writing this at midnight because Millie is having a hard time sleeping, but just like it should, these clips from Sesame Street are calming her down. I love this show. Happy Birthday!!

Some Sesame trivia:

What is the name of Elmo's pet fish?

What's the name of the store on Sesame Street?

What's the name of Big Bird's teddy bear?

When trouble arises, who does Grover turn into?

And here's a toughie:

What color was Oscar the Grouch 40 years ago?

So, who is your favorite character?

'Fess Up Friday

I know, I'm late again. It's not Friday, it's Sunday. But, this weekend we went house shopping, so that's my excuse. We found lots of possibilities, but I think our house is still out there somewhere.

Anyway, on to the weight loss. This week Tara and I decided to take the challenge to losing 15 lbs by Christmas. I admit, I balked when she first suggested that, but we've both been on plateaus for too long. So, for the next two months, we hope to lose an average of 2 lbs a week. Here's what we plan to do:

Exercise 5 to 6 days a week.

We now have child portioned plates to use for dinnertime.

Limit the number of Halloween candies we get a day.

Drink more water.

This is going to be tough, but we've got to do this! Waking up at 5am isn't worth it if the weight doesn't come off. We've got to do this. And we will. Think you might want to try too?

How'd you do?

Family Pictures

Josh and I have rarely taken family pictures. One reason is because I keep wanting to lose weight before I record my body image for all to see. But, it's time to face facts. I'm exercising and trying to eat right, but we don't need to put this off for another several years. So, here are a few of the pictures we took today.

We used the Mesa Temple as our backdrop. It was a beautiful day, despite the fact that it was still hot enough we all got sweaty in the heat. Our photographer was my fabulous BIL Jabon. He even brought my three nephews and they all were patient and we made quite the sight as three adults and seven kids took over one area of temple ground after another.

Awww, we're so cute!

Don't Give Me That Look

Yesterday I got a little riled up when I read an article about a woman and her 2-year-old son getting booted from a Southwest Airline flight. Apparently, he was throwing a tantrum when the flight attendants were trying to give the preflight safety instructions. His screams of "I want Daddy!" and "Go, plane, go!" caused the crew to decide to taxi back to the loading dock so he and his mother would be kicked off the plane and forced to stay an extra night away from home. I couldn't believe it when I read that. Yes, kids and their fits are incredibly annoying. But to kick them off the plane? Really?

I thought about how horrified I'd be if this was me. In March, when we took the kids to Disneyland, I had to comfort our fussy little Millie on the plane. To do this, I had to nurse her as I sat in the middle seat in between two men I'd never seen before. I had to sit with my torso twisted so she'd fit across me and not bump into either stranger. I was covered. But I know I made the people around me uncomfortable. I felt a little bad about that, but my baby comes first. You do what you have to do for your children.

After I read the article I saw the poll that accompanied the article. "Do you support Southwest Airlines and their decision?" 77% of pollsters voted that Southwest Airlines had done the right thing. I sat there flabbergasted. Do any of these people understand the situation this mother was in? Granted, I don't know her. Maybe she was one of the minority of parents that give the rest of us a bad name by not governing her child in public. But I can't help but wonder: Was her son having a hard time coping with not sleeping in his own bed and being off his schedule? Was he missing his daddy and knew he'd see him shortly? Was he tired and fatigued from having to be at the airport at least two hours early and then sitting on the plane for what always feels like an eternity until it finally takes of into the air? I can understand the plight of the other passengers. They were probably suffering from these same inconveniences. But shouldn't that incite compassion rather than anger?

I sat there and read many of the comments left by people who read the article. They were definitely black or white. Either people felt as I did: sorry for the mother, sorry for the toddler, scared of the next time I fly and my kids are cranky. Or, they shouted praises to the airline for finally taking a stand against bratty kids and their bad parents. I felt sickened by so many people who were so quick and willing to judge the picture and not the story. I was so grateful that the two men on either side of me last March were understanding enough to allow me to care for my baby and not make me feel guilty about it.

I kind of put the whole thing out of my head until this afternoon as Matt was supposed to get onto the bus. Since he was 3 (before I ever got pregnant with Millie) Matt has had a hard time leaving me to go anywhere on his own. It started in Primary on Sundays. He cried, he grabbed onto me, he broke my heart by saying things like, "But Mommy, I love you! I want to stay with you!" I've learned a few tricks to help us avoid this horrible scene. Sometimes it helps that Matt is distracted. He doesn't worry about me because he sees the activity he's about to do. Sometimes it helps that someone else takes him for me. Sometimes, no matter what I do, he's going to be upset. I have to firmly, but lovingly, tell him that he needs to go, I love him, and I'll see him later. Then the teacher (either church or school, it's happened at both places) takes a hold of him as I try to pry his hands off me and I leave. Within a few minutes he settles down and is his usual happy self. The teacher always seems to understand. It's the onlookers that seem to get that look. You know, that look that says, "You're not a very good parent, are you?"

Today's judgemental look was courtesy of the other mother who takes her kid to this particular bus stop. This is not the first time she's given me this look--the first time had to do with the names we chose for our children. I'm pretty sure she thought I was horrible for telling Matt that I didn't want him to throw a fit and he needed to go. I told him I loved him, lifted him up into the bus, backed away, and watched him cry as he sat in his seat. My heart was aching, but he had to go to school. I can't give in to him, he'll never grow up if I do. His name is Matthew Ammon, not Peter Pan. This is really, really tough, and I hope this phase passes someday (it's only been a problem for two years). But I don't need the added judgement of a woman that I've met four or five times.

Yes, I know I'm not a perfect parent. I've admitted my faults plenty of times in this very forum. You want some examples? Check here or here or here. But I do the best I can. Just like, I'm sure, the mom on the plane. Just like so many others out there. If my child acts up in public I must be a bad parent? Come on!

Look beyond the surface, People!