Whims...

I live by the motto, "Go big or go home."  It's something I've always done. 

Adventurous?

Maybe.

Risky?

Usually.

Fun?

Almost definitely.

A week or so ago I auditioned for a role in the community theatre's production of Annie.  Anyone who knows me understands how much I want to play Miss Hannigan.  Ever since I was 8 I recognized the truly greatest character of the show.  Annie?  No.  Who cares about Tomorrow?  "It's only a day away."  Whoopee.  Now, Miss Hannigan is a different story.  A drunk wanna-be-floozy who sings about how much she hates little girls?  Now that's art.

Emma had asked me to audition with her, so we took Abby along and sang our hearts out.  Unfortunately, none of us were cast.  Oh well.  As much as I would've loved to play Miss Hannigan, I'll just wait and make my Hannigan debut on Broadway instead of community theatre. 

But we went on a whim and took the risk.  We were in near fits of impatience waiting for the cast list to post, but otherwise it was fun to just go out and do something a bit unexpected.  I especially loved that my girls were so willing to do this with me.

I find a bit of a delight to go and do the unexpected.  It clears my head.  Like a restart.

So my last whim sent me to the beauty salon.  Okay, it was only Great Clips. But I told the girl I wanted something dramatic.  Something short.  I got a short cut, a bit shorter than I expected, but I still like it.  It helps me feel renewed. 

Lately, I've noticed some changes in my physique.  That's what working out five days a week will do for you, I guess.  And today I wore a shirt I bought six years ago knowing it was too small for me, but hoped I could get away with it.  Today I finally got away with it.

Between the haircut and my new-old clothes, I'm feeling a bit.... whimsical.

I enjoy my whims.  They help me make sure my feet aren't too heavily grounded. 

"For Thy Good"

If thou art called to pass through tribulation....
And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.  (D&C 122: 5, 7)

The above scripture goes on to say that our Savior has risen above all of these horrible things.  Which is absolutely true and something to always remember.  But I get stuck at the end of this passage.

"...Know thou ... that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good."

The other day I got a call from my SIL as she was worried about her little boy.  The next day or so I got a call from a neighbor who needed help with her injured daughter.

As usual, this got me thinking.

Lots of crappy things have happened in our house lately.  Nothing earth shattering, but crappy.  As the days have gone by, the only thought that has carried me through was the upcoming vacation.  We made plans to go to San Diego.  It's near enough that we can get there within a few hours but far enough that we would be on vacation.  Then we thought we'd do more of a stay-cation so we could save some money and get a few things like a play set for the kids in the backyard. 

Then Josh cleaned the bathtub.

Yep, I'm gross and lazy.  I hate cleaning the bathtub and only do it if I have to.  So Josh did it.  And he found what had once been a small hairline crack in the tub has become a split that may be leaking into the subflooring beneath the tub. 

Now we have our vacation funds invested in the tub that is on its way from Home Depot.  Our children are still being watched by my parents (thank goodness) and Josh and I hope to still find some time to see a movie and go out to dinner a few times.  But that's the extent of it.  The linoleum on the floor is peeling and needs to be replaced, so we might as well do it at the same time.  This is going to be a long and semi-expensive fix. 

This sucks.  I'm not happy about it.  And once, just once, I thought to myself, Why did this have to happen?

"...[To] give thee experience..."

I don't know why those wonderful women called me, but I'm glad they did.  And I'm glad I could help them.  The reason why I could (okay, Josh helped the neighbor's daughter, but I recruited him) was because I have some experience in this life.  If someone is experiencing something crappy, I probably have a touch of empathy to share. 

I think that's why we live through tough times.  It teaches us so we can more readily love others.  We can be on call for when one of our family members or friends needs us. 

I am quickly becoming an expert on:
Kids that don't know how to control their tempers
The function of the heart
Non-existent adult teeth
Moles and poor family health histories
Repeating 1st grade
Kidney transplants
New houses that were mass produced and cheaply applianced
The daily grind of life weighing you down
The judgment of others while I try to do my job at church

And those are just the issues so far in 2011.

Really, I'm not complaining.  Honestly.  This was an Ah-ha moment for me.  I'm still gaining experience.  And that experience may suck while I'm dealing with it, but maybe someday I'll be able to do some good because of it.  Maybe this crappiness won't be in vain.  I hope.  I really, truly do.

If You're Going to Dream, Dream Big

I have dreams.  Big dreams. 

Dreams so big that I usually don't realize that they're kind of ridiculous.  But I like to think that my flamboyant dreams are what make me so darn lovable.

I grew up with my dad constantly telling me, "Moderation in all things."  "Moderation, do you know what that means?"  "Use moderation, Shelly." 

But my ideas are so overwhelmingly amazing! .... I think.

I've begun clipping coupons.  I get 3 Sunday papers so I can have multiple coupons.  That in and of itself may sound stupid.  But our cupboards have never been so full.  We haven't been able to have much of a food storage.  In fact, we've lived pay check to pay check for years.  But I don't realize it's the week of payday based on the pantry.  It's like a Christmas miracle.  Or a Coupon miracle as it were. 

But as wonderful as our beginning food storage is, I want more from the program.  I'd love to be an extreme couponer.



I actually watched this entire show on TLC several weeks ago.  I sat there watching it in awe, mouth agape.  Then I realized that the show was in the line up of shows highlighting bizarre human behavior, including the woman who eats couch cushions. 

But saving money is not crazy or psychotic.  It's helped our family a lot over the last few months.  Oh, but how I wish I could save more than my record 54% at the check out register.

Another of my big dreams....

I want to run around the block.  It's a big, big block.  2 miles on each leg of the block, an 8 mile perimeter.  I think there are about four or so LDS wards in that area.  I said to Josh the other day, "Wouldn't it be cool to run that far?" 

He looked at me like I'm a freaking idiot.  Or maybe just a freak.  I'm still not sure about that one.

But I'll forever stick to what I know.  Dreaming big is my forte.  And sometimes I achieve those dreams. 

However, I can't even tell you how many times I've died trying. 

Side Effects May Include......

I have been sick lately.  I don't really know how it happened.  It's been so long since I've been knocked down like this.  It's as if my whole body has been sucking energy from wherever it can get it.  And unfortunately, my brain has experienced the most suckage.

Sometimes, when I write, I try to write something along the lines of clever.  Something I hope might make people chuckle.  And a couple days ago I thought I had come up with a hilarious idea about psychology and a cold.  All I'll say is it had something to do with the term psychosomatic, Freud's model of the psyche (id, ego, superego), and Pavlov's dogs. 

Seriously, I was laughing at myself for being so incredibly clever.

However, now that the fog in my head has begun to clear, I can now tell you how glad I am that I did not actually write what I thought was so clever.  If I had, I would have deserved this:



I really hope I'm back to 100% soon!

The Shawshank Redemption?

My parents are moving to Arizona.

Did I tell you this?

My dad is currently working his new job with the Border Patrol and my mom has been waiting for the house in Montana to sell (anyone looking for a home in Great Falls, let me know).  She'll be making the trip down with the rental truck loaded to the brim in just a week and a half. 

I'm so happy for so many reasons.

First off, Montana is a two full-day drive from here.  And it seems that something goes wrong every time we drive from Arizona to Colorado (or vice versa).  And I like driving through Utah, but I'd like to stay for more than 11 hours as we sleep, so that's always difficult when we're on a tight schedule.  Having Mom and Dad only 2 1/2 hours away will be a welcome change.

The second reason is pure selfishness.  I left some things at Mom and Dad's and I'm looking forward to getting them back.  I left my music stand.  Emma needs this.  Her school has no music stands for the band kids, so she has to carry her music stand back and forth on the days she has band.  Not cool.  When I get my stand back, she'll just keep it at school and won't have to carry hers around anymore.  Mine is old and cheap.  If it gets lost or stolen, it won't matter.

I know, you're thinking, "But Shelly, that's not selfish!  That's being a good mother to your daughter!"  I know.  I know.  I rock the "Good Mom" role (excuse me while I laugh).  But that's not the selfish part.  The selfish part comes into play with wanting my 5 lb weights back.  I left them behind and tried using my bigger 8 lb weights, but they were too big.  The more weight you lift, the bigger the guns.  My mouth is big enough to compensate for small guns. 

So in the mean time, I'm pulling some "Prison Break"/"Lockup" substitute.  I've got 2 gallon jugs that I've half-filled with water and those are my current 5 lb weights.  Oh, I'm sexy.  I've got my exercise gear, my bodybugg, my cup of water, and my jug-weights.  Man, they suck. They're awkward, they are hard to stabilize, they're beginning to leak.

Remind me to never go to prison.  I don't care for their make-shift ways.

The Newest Annoying Fad

There's a new fad in today's kids' world.

Silly Bandz

Who the heck figured this one out? I can just see the marketing meeting....

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'm a moron. Let's convince kids to whine for a
bunch of rubber bands. They can twist them around their extremities and leave
them laying around for little brothers and sisters to swallow. What's that you
say? You think that may be dangerous? Well then we'll make the band narrow
enough so they'll just digest it in, like, seven years. No biggie. Cheap to
manufacture, so the more they lose, the more they'll buy. It's genius, I tell
you! Did I mention that I'm a moron?"

I think each generation has their own "thing" that annoys their parents. My brothers collected pogs. There were some sort of Pokemon cards in our house too. My parents hated the few Garbage Pail Kids cards someone had given me. I wasn't allowed to buy them, but somehow I ended up with a modest dozen or so.

(This was the least disturbing one I could find.)

Looking back now, those things were gross. Why did I keep them? I think it's because all kids like to collect things. As disgusting as those cards were, at least they didn't snap any little 2-year-olds on the wrist. Our house is now down one Silly Bandz.

The Joys of Getting Older

It's going to be my birthday next week.

I have a lot of reminders all around me that I'm getting older.

I'm the oldest of my brothers and sisters.

I'm older than all my siblings-in-law.

I was one of the oldest in my graduating class, both high school and college.

And I'm three weeks older than my husband. He doesn't let me forget that.

So to make myself feel better, here are some I'm NOT older than:

Betty White

Sean Connery

Methuselah

The Acropolis in Athens, Greece

So, happy almost-birthday to me.

The Can of WD

One of the most difficult things about Josh working the night shift is letting him sleep during the day. It used to kill me to leave him alone. I was up and working or playing and wanted him with me. We'd be under the same roof and it took all my strength to leave the poor man alone.

Over the years it's gotten easier to let him sleep. But there's something that continues to pull me into our room during the day. Sometimes it's a valid excuse of needing something from the room. Sometimes it's just that I prefer to use the master bathroom than any other bathroom. Sometimes I just plain want to be in the room with him, even if he is sleeping, and I'll read or put a movie on the laptop. It's weird to miss someone even when they're literally right in front of you.

But I've learned to resist the urge to wake him up early.

The bedroom door, however, has yet to learn to resist the same urge.

So today I went grocery shopping and made sure I grabbed a can of WD 40.

I didn't think much more about it until I was at the register. Did you know you have to be over 18 to buy WD 40? What the heck is this world coming to? I sprayed that stuff on the hinges of the bedroom door and it's really gross. Do people seriously inhale this stuff? Psychos!!!

Anyway, I slapped that gross stuff on the hinges and now the door will let Josh sleep.

And I can keep stalking him.

The real Real Housewives

There's not much that I watch on Bravo. Top Chef is about it. But I do see commercials for some of their other shows. One of the most advertised being The Real Housewives of... series. I think the latest one takes place in Washington DC.

If you like this show, fine. That's wonderful. I will admit that most of my opinion is based on the commercials since I've never actually seen an episode.

From what I understand, the premise is that a camera crew follows around several different "real housewives" in the city included in the title of the show. From what I've seen, these women live on the higher side of life. They often show some sort of tantrum by one woman or another. It seems pretty common for each woman to be flanked by an entourage of people.

I'd love to extend a challenge to Bravo network. Make a series about real Real Housewives. But don't insult us by using the term "housewife." Call us Homemakers or Domestic Goddesses or Family Manager.

And use some realistic women.

Women with no make up or even a chance to take a shower.

Women with children hanging on their legs.

Women trying to make sure homework is completed, dinner is hot, and their husband is ready for his nightshift all at the same time without the help of a tutor, nanny, chef, or personal assistant.

Women vacuuming at 8:00 pm because they can't stand the sight of broken crackers in the living room anymore.

Women who are 30 lbs overweight.

Women who love their husbands more than their friends.

Women that cry while on their knees praying to know how to handle their children.

Women tired from a long day of various activities and errands but still manage to read stories to their children.

Women forcing themselves to remember to take care of themselves, no matter how guilty it makes them feel.

Women who live boring, mundane lives that would never pull in huge ratings but find more happiness in the boring and mundane rather than the things that up the ratings.

So, there you have it. Straight from a real Real {ahem} Housewife.

Saved

In line with the "Thankful" post the other day, I'm blogging another answer to my friend Jeri Dawn's blog game of "Getting to Know You." And I will heartily laugh if you began singing the song just now.

The latest question:

"What or who or when or how did someone save you?"

This is a huge question. And, for me, I cannot just answer it. I have to study the question, ponder it, mull it over in my mind, and then just scrap all that and write whatever may come to me. You know. How I usually write my blog posts.

Because of the different types of saving, I'm going to break it down.

Physical
I have been physically saved at least twice. Once was on the Arkansas River in Colorado. I went white water rafting with some friends from my ward, including my mom, our bishop and his family. While going down the river, the raft flipped. Here's the bad part. I can't swim. Here's the good part. I was wearing a life jacket. The river washed me away from the raft and another raft in our party had to come get me. I drank half the river that day. I also never went rafting again, much to Josh's disappointment.

The second time I was saved by Dr Richard Porreco when Matt was born. He saved my son when he was born, which literally tore up my insides. Dr Porreco found the unexpected bleeding, got my blood transfusion taken care of, and I was still able to have children afterward. If Matt had been born in the little town we lived in rather than Denver, either Matt or I may not be here.

Social
Like many others, junior high was a hard time for me. We moved to Utah and I hated it. I hated my parents. I hated the people. I hated the church. I hated school. I hated my siblings. I hated life. Several different groups of people helped me out of my funk. My parents stuck by me and never gave up or quit praying for me. My friends in my new ward reached out and welcomed me, even though it took me a year to accept that outreach. I wandered between a few groups of friends at school, never really feeling a part of any of them. It was a while before I allowed myself to truly feel a part of my friends' lives. I don't know that they ever really knew that I felt so lost for so long. But by ninth grade, I had a secure place with my friends and I still love each of them.

Love
Josh saved me. He saved me from worry, dread, heartache, loneliness, emptiness, and every other bad thing you can think of. I spent a lot of time moping around because I hadn't found him yet. He has tamed me (sort of) and I can't imagine the idea of happiness without thinking of him.

'Cause when I'm a bullet shot out of a gun

'Cause when I'm a firecracker comin' undone

Or when I'm a fugitive ready to run, all wild-eyed and crazy

No matter where my reckless soul takes me

Baby you save me

-Kenny Chesney, You Save Me

There are times when he's the only person that can calm me. Of course, he's also one of the things that shoots me off, but that's a whole other subject.

Emotionally

Just over a year ago, I prayed for a miracle. I prayed with all my being. I fell asleep praying, something I've never done before or since. My family was in jeopardy. Satan did his best to bind us in darkness. I have an inkling of what Joseph Smith experienced with his first prayer in the Sacred Grove. He had gone to pray, to ask the Lord which church he should join. But before he could begin his prayer, something happened to him:

...I had scarcely done so, when immediately I was seized upon by
some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence
over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness
gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden
destruction. (Joseph Smith History 1:15)

I don't know that I can fully understand this feeling, but that night a year ago, I came close. I felt "doomed to sudden destruction." Joseph pleaded for help and was saved by the appearance of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. I was saved by the inspiration to utter in my own prayer, "We need a miracle. Please send us a miracle."

The next morning my miracle manifested through several different people in many different ways. We were saved. We were free. We found the strength to overcome our "thick darkness." I've been scarred by this event. It haunts my thoughts still. But we've overcome the earthly trials it caused. Our Heavenly Father saved us through His miracle. He continues to save me every day to overcome the memory of our near "sudden destruction."

Well. That was long and a bit deep. But I've been saved. Many times. In many ways.

Arachnidism

Saturday our family helped clean the church building to prepare for Sunday services. It was a good thing to do, even if it was at 8:30 in the morning.

I learned something: I participate in Arachnidism.

You may understand what I mean. I am prejudice against spiders.

As I swept up the entryway for a set of doors I found a little beetle. I wondered if it was appropriate to kill a bug in a church building. I figured it would be more Christ-like to allow the bug to live, so I removed it and let it go.

I was pretty proud of myself until we were in the custodian supply room and Matt yelled, "Mom, I huge spider!!"

I pulled the vacuum back and, sure enough, a HUGE water spider scurried around. The thought of being Christ-like didn't even cross my mind. My main thought was: "Kill it!! Kill it!! Kill that disgusting thing!!"

And so, I will allow a little beetle to survive, but woe unto the spiders that cross my path.

I hate you, spiders.

I am an Arachnidist.

The Thankful Project

My friend Jeri Dawn has challenged her loyal blog readers to post the answers to a get-to-know-you question she posted: Ten Things You Are Thankful For Today.

I haven't played one of these games for a while and almost passed, even with Jeri Dawn's threat to come to my blog and call me a chicken. I was willing to take that risk.

But today was a rough day. The kids couldn't play quietly and the monsoon outside didn't allow them to go out and run around. Josh was trying to sleep for his shift tonight. I did NOTHING yesterday after getting home from our trip and I have a huge to-do list that I didn't accomplish today.

So, for the sake of my soul, I've decided to play.

Ten Things I'm Thankful For Today:

1. The rain. I have no grass for it to water, but the kids loved watching the streets and yards flood.

2. Our vehicles are out of commission. That may sound bad, but it caused Josh to have to call in to work, so I get another night with him before he works seven days in a row.

3. My sister and brother-in-law. With the problems of the car, Jabon came over to help Josh jump the car. When the battery proved to be beyond dead, Jabon took the battery out of his beautiful Mustang for us to use in the car so we can fix both the car and the flat tire on the van tomorrow. They help us a lot.

4. Gummy bears. They're good.

5. Reading time. I love to read with my kids. I read a different book with each kid, so after prayers they each read individually while I make my rounds. Matt and I are reading Eragon, Abby and I are reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and Emma and I are reading Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites.

6. My fixed dryer. I did laundry today and it only took me into the afternoon, not two days like it did at the rental.

7. The storm is over. Now that the storm has stopped raging, my tv shows aren't being interrupted by the Emergency Alert System telling me where the thunderstorms and flash floods are happening.

8. The photo of Josh and the kids at the beach. That was one of the most perfect days we've had in a long time. It reminded me that not every day is a rough one.

9. Brownies and ice cream. They're also good.

10. I'm very thankful for the outlet I have of writing. Whether it's on Facebook or the blog or my book. I like to get things out and allow everyone to wallow in my rants with me.

So, Jeri Dawn, thank you for this challenge. I needed it. It's good to remember that I am thankful for things.

The Eye Doc

So today we went to the eye doctor. Josh's and my eyes definitely needed some love. He's been wearing the same contacts for WAY too long and my glasses got stepped on the other day and nearly broke.

The girls also needed some eye attention. They are both getting readers that I pray they grow out of over time. Pictures will come after their new glasses get here.

We had a HUGE bill by the end of the day, but as ridiculous as it was, I was forced to consider how ridiculous the entire situation was.

I'm pretty sure eye doctors have a bit of a scam going on....

We walk in and agree to get a full check up because, hey, it's our eyes. We need to see. I remember the first pair of glasses I got. I was a sophomore in high school. I needed them to see the chalkboard. I hated wearing them, but I remember looking up into the night sky (standing still because otherwise I'd fall over with my new depth perception) and seeing stars. I hadn't realized until that moment that I hadn't seen stars in a long, long time. They were beautiful.

So, being able to see is important. We get the full check up, including the drops to dilate our eyes. We know Josh and I need new glasses, but now so do Emma and Abby.

By the time we are ready to pick out all our frames, our eyes are so dilated that we can't see clearly. Here's where the scam begins.

First, if you need glasses, but you're looking through clear lenses, you can't truly see what you look like. I think this is why so many people that wear glasses don't like to see themselves wearing them: they couldn't see what they looked like when they bought them. Hence, ensuring another trip in the future to buy a new pair of glasses.

The second part of the scam is the darn dilation. After trying on a few frames, you look at the price and notice that you can't see the price. It's in small print on the tag on the arm of the frame and you can't even read the LARGE print on the posters in the waiting room. You have no idea what you're about to pay. You have to say something along the lines of, "Matt, tell Mommy what these numbers are one at a time."

And then the final part is the "insurance" trick. After all the tallying, we actually saved about 50%. Doesn't mean we didn't spend an arm and a leg anyway. I'm soooo nervous for the girls to have glasses, especially glasses they don't have to wear all the time.

Maybe I can win back some of the money we spent today if I start a pool on who will lose or break their glasses first. Any takers?

Gender Fairness

So often our house is filled with the groanings of, "It's not fair!"

It's not fair that Matt doesn't have any early birthday presents.

It's not fair that Abby got to choose to do the vacuuming this week so Emma got stuck with the bathrooms.

It's not fair that Emma gets read to last each night.

It's not fair Mom gets to stay up late.

It seems that everything is supposed to be fair. And I'm trying really hard not to repeat the phrase I always heard: "Well, life isn't fair!" But I have (unfortunately) learned that life isn't fair. We don't always get the same amount of time, praise, commitment, or trials.

I think Burger King needs to learn this. Today we grabbed some kids' meals for the kids. The entire building is covered in Twilight posters with the upcoming release of Eclipse. I wasn't too surprised when Josh and I had Eclipse cups. But I was taken aback when the kids' bags sported Edward. Then the toy inside was an oversized plastic charm bracelet with a wolf and a heart on it. I sat there thinking, "Why would they be giving my children toys to promote a movie they aren't going to see?" Based on the other two movies, I'm pretty sure my kids aren't going to be seeing the new one. So why would they give the kids these toys?

Then it hit me. BK needs to be fair. For a few weeks the toys were for Ironman 2. I didn't consider that one inappropriate for the kids, though, because Josh plans on taking Matt to see it. And why not? It's a superhero film. But if they're going to promote a boy movie, don't they have to promote a girl one?

The answer is this: No. What happened to promoting gender-neutral movies that aren't PG-13? The meals are for kids under 13, why shouldn't the toys be a bit more age appropriate? It's just another proof that the world is more concerned about money than what's appropriate for kids.

Guess we're not doing kids' meals anymore.

It's a Small World

I know it's been a while since I've posted. I need to get some pictures from Abby's baptism and get those up. We had family staying with us for a week and a half. It was great fun, but I don't like going online a lot when I have real people in my living room with me. I prefer to reserve my virtual interactions when I'm bored and alone at night.

That being said, I do have some fun stuff to post.

I find the interweavings of human relationships fascinating. I love playing the "Kevin Bacon Game." You know, where you connect an actor to Kevin Bacon by the costars they have in common. For instance, Michelle Pfeiffer was in I Am Sam with Sean Penn who was in Mystic River with Kevin Bacon. It's a fun game, although I usually like to use movies I've seen which limits me a bit. Here's a link if you want to play a little bit yourself.

Tonight we went for a bike ride and came across some LDS missionaries serving in our area. We stopped and talked to them for a while. Come to find out, one of them grew up in Colorado Springs in the same stake Josh and I attended when we lived in the mountains out there. His companion is from Syracuse, Utah, and attended Clearfield High School, which is where I graduated from. It was so funny.

This weekend, during our family BBQ after Abby's baptism, I was talking to my new aunt. She and my uncle got married a few months ago. They had gone to high school together in Montana in the 80s, but found each other again here in Arizona just a couple years ago. Around 1982, my aunt babysat me, my two sisters, and our three cousins. So, my introduction to her last summer was not actually the first time we'd met. Weird!

My sister-in-law told my brother that they almost got to meet each other nearly a year earlier than they did. Some friends of ours from Utah had moved to Colorado not long after we had. Their family lived in the same town as my sister-in-law. My brother was supposed to go to our Utah friends' house after a ball game one night, but he opted to head home instead. My sister-in-law was hanging out at our Utah friends' house that night. A fun game of "What if....?"

I've got another bout of stories running through my head. Love stories based on Josh and me. If we hadn't met the way we did, how would it have happened? There are tons of possibilities. I considered moving to Arizona once. Josh tried to get to BYU, where I wanted to go. Lots of opportunities, but I don't want to spoil what I may end up writing and trying to sell.

And using the Six Degrees of Separation theory (or Kevin Bacon Game theory), Josh and I were within 3 degrees of knowing each other before we actually met. I had met and visited with President Charsley, the mission president in Colorado in 1998. His family was from South Africa. Josh had dinner at Pres Charsley's parents' house while he served his mission there.

It's really interesting how our lives intertwine, and how few times we get to recognize that.

Monkey See....

.....Monkey Do.

The monkey in this cliche is our little Millie.

The big kids played on the Slip 'n' Slide.


And after Josh lovingly threw Millie down the slide, she decided it was actually fun.

Millie also played "Monkey Do" after watching me work out yesterday. We'd tell her, "Go exercise!" and she'd run forward five or six steps, stop, and do a squat. Then she'd run another five or six steps, stop, and do a squat. It was the funniest thing ever.

I'm pretty sure she learned to Monkey Do from her mommy. Tara is exactly three years younger than me. She copied me when she was born on my third birthday. She just had to have my birthday. And now I'm paying her back. A couple years ago Tara got new couches and so did we. The same style from the same company. Of course, this was a huge coincidence since we were living 1800 miles apart and had never been to each other's new houses. Then we bought a house in Tara's neighborhood. When you stand on the street facing our two houses, Tara's is the second house on the left of the vacant lots. Ours is the second on the right. And the final straw: I bought the same style of kitchen garbage can. Yep. Copying my sister.

Monkey See, Monkey Do.

What NOT To Buy For M-Day

I don't know if I am the minority or majority in this issue.

One of the common gifts for Mom on Mother's Day (besides the obvious flowers) is some sort of "home spa" set. Bath salts, perfumes, bubbles, soaps. I'm pretty sure I'm not sticking my foot in my mouth by saying, I don't want those for Mother's Day. I think I've stood on my bubble-bath-soap box enough for Josh to have gotten the hint. I don't do baths. Baths are not like they are in the movies or on TV. There is a reality to baths that Hollywood has never truly explored.

Why I don't like baths:


First you have to clean the tub. Remember the episode of Friends when Monica gets Chandler to love baths? He makes a comment at the beginning of the show of "You just sit there stewing in your own filth." I guess this reveals that I don't scrub my tub daily. Don't judge me.

Bubble baths don't make all the cool bubbles they do in the movies, unless you use an entire bottle. And even then they all melt quickly. Maybe the expensive stuff works well, but if you're able to afford expensive bubble bath for your long, relaxing baths, then I don't know how we are even friends since we have virtually nothing in common. I say that with love.

When does a bath fit into the schedule? If you are the mom at our house, the answer is, "It doesn't." The purpose of a bath is to get away from it all. I can't even go to the garage without Millie freaking out that I'm doing anything without her. (Heaven forbid I have a life.)

Baths are boring. You just sit there. I guess you could do some thinking, but you can do that anywhere: the couch, the car, the kitchen table, the toilet. In a bath, you can't fall asleep because you'll drown. You can't read because your hands will get wet and then leave water marks on your book/magazine. And what if you drop your book/magazine? Sucky.

So, to sum it up, baths are a lot of effort to prep for, they aren't relaxing and they are boring.

Get Mom a card for Mother's Day. Or some flowers. Or chocolates.

Or be incredible like my husband and buy her a new five bedroom house. That works too.

The Good With the Bad

The Good News: We have a good shot at signing the final documents tomorrow. It's just a matter of a phone call to tell us to come sign.
The Bad News: We could be called at anytime to head to the office about 45 minutes away. To complicate matters, the girls have early out tomorrow, so we'd probably have to check them out of school so we can bring them with us.

The Bad News: Our tax refund, which we planned to use for most of our clean up of the new house, is currently being held until we send the IRS some information. Because they won't tell us over the phone what they need, we have to wait for a letter. It's been 8 weeks since we filed our taxes. Not cool.
The Good News: We should be getting back most, if not all, of our earnest money. Not as much as the tax return, but still it's money.

The Good News: Dad is coming back to town tomorrow.
The Bad News: He has to go almost immediately to report to his new job. Just a tiny, short visit.

The Bad News: The car died on Josh this evening before he headed off to work. Don't know if it will start for him in the morning.
The Good News: We have a large, shiny, vehicular target to site our guns on.

The Bad News: I have a lot of things to do around this house -- cleaning, packing, sorting, scrubbing, etc.
The Good News: I can get off the computer and do some of that stuff tonight. And I think I may actually do that.

The Darn Dominoes

I cleaned up Matt's room today. I took all of the toys (his room was previously the playroom) and separated them by kid and then boxed those suckers up. It's time for us to begin moving, even if it's taking forever for us to close on this house.

I was having one of those "Bad Mommy" days as it was. You know what I mean. The days when you sit there and think, Why did I sign up for this?

I was finding broken toys, unused toys, dirty toys, toys I'd never seen before. But I was feeling pretty good about my progress. It was slow, but I was making piles throughout the room and getting things done. One of my piles consisted of Cars dominoes. Ever seen these?

Don't buy them. They are possessed.

I found at least one domino in every room of the house today. Then I'd put them in their own pile and turn my back to take care of other toys. By the time I turned back around, a single domino would be 12 inches away from the pile. I'd put it back, scan the area, find nothing else out of place and turn my back again. When I'd come back, guess what? Another domino about 12 inches away from the pile.

I swear, they are possessed....roaming the house of their own accord, making curse words fall out of my mouth. The darn dominoes.

Stressed To The Gills!!!

Things are slowly coming together for the house. S.L.O.W.L.Y. I appreciated Michelle's comment about David's letter about his legal name. You'll never guess what the biggest problem is. MY NAME!!!

Evidently, it is impossible for the government (because we are, unfortunately, trying to use a government financing program to buy this house) to figure out that I got married and changed my name. And it was legal too.

Yesterday I sent them a letter explaining that I legally changed my name when I married -- almost exactly 11 years ago!! It's not like we just got married a year or two ago. It's been ELEVEN YEARS!!

Today I had to give them a copy of my Social Security card. What's tomorrow? Our marriage license? Witness statements from our parents? A DNA sample?

I'm also upset because our tax return is being delayed. We don't need it for the closing of the house, but it sure was going to be nice to do several things around our new home before we moved in. Now they'll have to wait a while longer.

Today the government is not my friend. So glad we don't have to rely on them for every aspect of our lives.... {Insert your own witty, sarcastic retort here.}