A few years ago I bought all new "shatterproof" Christmas tree ornaments. I thought this was a smart move. I even figured that the few 'family' ornaments I have that are glass, I could put up high - should I have a child needing to use one as a ball.
Oh - silly me.
On the first day of Christmas (the day after set up), Chuggy got a hold of Ruby's adorable glass snow globe. (given to her by my mom the year she was born) She carried it around the house, took it to bed, and watched TV with it as well. I had warned her that Chubs would think it a ball, if could get his hands on it, so put it back where it belongs (and Chugs can't get it) when you're done. I learned this clearly last summer with him and glass. The kids had been eating cherries in the back yard, out of my Pyrex bowl last summer, when upon their finishing, Chugs grabbed the bowl and threw it as hard as he could across the cement. Shattering into a million pieces, and him laughing the whole time. Apparently clear "balls" are really cool.
Guess what? Snow globes are clear balls as well - as everyone knows.
And as I heard, "BALL!" being yelled out of my nearly two year old's mouth, followed by the shattering of glass, and tears of a four year old - I realized that nothing is safe. No one is safe.
He got a hold of one more sad item, a hand made glass bulb of Simons and the scenario was the same. "Nooooo!" I heard from Si as the word "Ball!" echoed through the house again. This time into our rock fire place. And, yet again, the sounds of glass breaking. This time followed by, "NO! NO! MOM!!!! Chubs broke my ornament!"
Could someone PLEASE tell me why the ball machine, known as Chuggy, couldn't be bothered with the "shatterproof" ornaments? I mean really?! It's kind of like his Wii obsession. He carries a Wii remote control around the house day and night. And screams for it when he's without. I'm not exaggerating. Seriously. You can often find an extra remote in my purse or in his car seat. You see though, I once tried to give him a "pretend" remote. Free from a happy meal or something. And he said to me,
"Are you kidding!? No way lady!"
These were his exact words. I swear. Okay. If he could speak, they would be. Instead it was actually, "Scream! Yell! Wiiiiiiii!!!!" Followed by, you guessed it - throwing it across the room.
"Only the real thing for me. Why would I waste my time on ornaments that don't make cool crashing noises or on a Wii remote that costs less than a dollar?!"
And because of this - only the real thing will do, thing. Guess what he got for Christmas?
Two basketballs, two footballs and a soccer ball.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
boys
Since I'm too crazy right now to post, enjoy this from Peter's blog - all about boys.
http://petertennis.posterous.com/in-case-you-didnt-know-about-boys
http://petertennis.posterous.com/in-case-you-didnt-know-about-boys
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
One More Time
We're at it again.
AGAIN!!! I tell you.
Wasn't four enough? Holy cow, what are you people - crazy?!
Yep.
To be sure, the Tennis family is most certainly that.
Crazy.
Crazy to announce the coming of our fifth child and fourth (FOURTH!!!) boy.
Need me to draw you a picture? Yes? Okay.
Wait. Never mind - see for yourself.
(If you think you're looking at who-knows-what; you are. Just read the notation in the top left and follow the arrow)
AGAIN!!! I tell you.
Wasn't four enough? Holy cow, what are you people - crazy?!
Yep.
To be sure, the Tennis family is most certainly that.
Crazy.
Crazy to announce the coming of our fifth child and fourth (FOURTH!!!) boy.
Need me to draw you a picture? Yes? Okay.
Wait. Never mind - see for yourself.
(If you think you're looking at who-knows-what; you are. Just read the notation in the top left and follow the arrow)Or wait and meet him in person in April. We can't wait.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Misunderstandings
*Last week I saw my kids outside with the cat pinned to the ground and Samuel's GIANT nerf gun aimed at the cat. I was furious! Livid! Haven't I taught them better than this?! Just as I opened the window to scream at them about Heavenly Father's creatures, showing love for animals and all that jazz - Peter beat me to it. "What are you doing?" (Oh sure. Ask before you yell. Fine. Be nice.) "We're playing veterinarians and pretending to shoot the tiger with sleeping darts." Oh. Okay. Fine. And yes, I should have more faith in my kids, huh? It did make me laugh though.
*On Thanksgiving my mom left a voice mail for my brother about our plans for the day. It went like this: "We're having dinner at five at the Tennis'. Come over whenever you want though, we'll be playing games and having snacks." Now, my brothers phone has a voice interpreter that sends him a text with the words from the voice mail. Apparently it isn't that accurate; or maybe it is....the text read, "We're having dinner at five at the Tennis'. Come over whenever you want though, we'll be playing games and having sex." Little difference there. Snacks. Sex. Whatever. Either way it will be a good time.
*I recently discovered that my six year old has been signing his own daily planner with my initials. (WHAAAAT!!!!) Yep. I noticed he hadn't been asking me to sign his reading minutes for a while. I then checked his calendar to see my initials (looks like the Pi sign with a circle around it) in every single square. Yes. Busted. I ripped into him about this. Cheating. Forging. Lying. Eventually going to prison. (I truly am scaring my children - I know)
He then says, "But I read every night. (and he does) And when you don't sign I don't get credit for it and then I don't get to go to the prize box on Fridays"
True.
"Why don't you have me sign it right after school, like I do Samuel's?"
"Because I haven't read by then. And in the morning, I always forget."
"Just let me sign it before you go to bed."
"But then it would be lying because I haven't read yet."
True.
He's got a point. Lie by signing first. ( I have since convinced him this is okay because I sign in "good faith" knowing that he ALWAYS reads before he goes to sleep. Plus, it's way easier for me to remember during homework time.) Or sign my moms name without asking her.
Hmmm. Predicaments.
And the list of misunderstandings goes on and on. I have so very many, it's not even funny. I've hurt more feelings and meant something other than was said too many times to count. But hopefully, you'll find these few funny - and not hurt your feelings. Do your best. Okay?
*On Thanksgiving my mom left a voice mail for my brother about our plans for the day. It went like this: "We're having dinner at five at the Tennis'. Come over whenever you want though, we'll be playing games and having snacks." Now, my brothers phone has a voice interpreter that sends him a text with the words from the voice mail. Apparently it isn't that accurate; or maybe it is....the text read, "We're having dinner at five at the Tennis'. Come over whenever you want though, we'll be playing games and having sex." Little difference there. Snacks. Sex. Whatever. Either way it will be a good time.
*I recently discovered that my six year old has been signing his own daily planner with my initials. (WHAAAAT!!!!) Yep. I noticed he hadn't been asking me to sign his reading minutes for a while. I then checked his calendar to see my initials (looks like the Pi sign with a circle around it) in every single square. Yes. Busted. I ripped into him about this. Cheating. Forging. Lying. Eventually going to prison. (I truly am scaring my children - I know)
He then says, "But I read every night. (and he does) And when you don't sign I don't get credit for it and then I don't get to go to the prize box on Fridays"
True.
"Why don't you have me sign it right after school, like I do Samuel's?"
"Because I haven't read by then. And in the morning, I always forget."
"Just let me sign it before you go to bed."
"But then it would be lying because I haven't read yet."
True.
He's got a point. Lie by signing first. ( I have since convinced him this is okay because I sign in "good faith" knowing that he ALWAYS reads before he goes to sleep. Plus, it's way easier for me to remember during homework time.) Or sign my moms name without asking her.
Hmmm. Predicaments.
And the list of misunderstandings goes on and on. I have so very many, it's not even funny. I've hurt more feelings and meant something other than was said too many times to count. But hopefully, you'll find these few funny - and not hurt your feelings. Do your best. Okay?
Friday, December 4, 2009
You've Got Mail
I have so very many good posts locked up in my head, unable to find the time to really share. I'm sure you all do to. But I saved this several weeks ago to blog about, and now have 2.2 seconds to write a little diddy.
Many years ago Simon was in a shopping cart accident. Sounds exciting, huh? Like there were races through isles, screaching shopping cart wheels and the like. Nope. The cart fell over while parked, him inside, due to a missing wheel. The carts were brand new, with a solid surface covering the wheel area. (I tell you this so that you won't think my husband is a total idiot for putting two kids in a cart with only three wheels - and while most of us mothers would have gotten them in, rocked it a bit and realized "this will never do", he did not and headed for the slip and slide isle anyway.) At any rate, the cart tipped and fell into sharp metal shelving, Simons face being dragged along each one until they hit the ground. Traumatic. I know.
Long story short; lots of tears, Peter rushing around to find help, plenty of blood, and me coming home from girls camp to a ringing telephone telling me Si was being stitched up. Having that happen to your 18 mos. old was plenty traumatic for me. In the process of all of this, we went to a plastic surgeon. Someone that we knew from church. He was great and said to 'fix' the scars would be A LOT of trouble, so living with them is the best option. It's okay, they give his rubber little face even more character than he already had before.
Sooooo, on to the story. Simon got a piece of mail a while ago. Addressed to him. Inside was a card from Dr. Clayton, it says:
Because every six year old boy needs just this, new boobs and bigger lips. I laughed so hard I couldn't stand it.
There must be a way to filter out their mailing system. Don't you think?
"Hey Si. you got some mail"
"Mom. What's breast enhancment?"
Not really. I didn't give it to him. Becuase you know he would have read the whole thing and had to go to the medical book or something of the like. Yeah. Let's not encourage that quite yet.
Many years ago Simon was in a shopping cart accident. Sounds exciting, huh? Like there were races through isles, screaching shopping cart wheels and the like. Nope. The cart fell over while parked, him inside, due to a missing wheel. The carts were brand new, with a solid surface covering the wheel area. (I tell you this so that you won't think my husband is a total idiot for putting two kids in a cart with only three wheels - and while most of us mothers would have gotten them in, rocked it a bit and realized "this will never do", he did not and headed for the slip and slide isle anyway.) At any rate, the cart tipped and fell into sharp metal shelving, Simons face being dragged along each one until they hit the ground. Traumatic. I know.
Long story short; lots of tears, Peter rushing around to find help, plenty of blood, and me coming home from girls camp to a ringing telephone telling me Si was being stitched up. Having that happen to your 18 mos. old was plenty traumatic for me. In the process of all of this, we went to a plastic surgeon. Someone that we knew from church. He was great and said to 'fix' the scars would be A LOT of trouble, so living with them is the best option. It's okay, they give his rubber little face even more character than he already had before.
Sooooo, on to the story. Simon got a piece of mail a while ago. Addressed to him. Inside was a card from Dr. Clayton, it says:
"Dr. James Clayton requests the pleasure of your company at our open house
"FALL INTO BEAUTY"
Learn about breast enhancement, body contouring, facial rejuvination,
botox and dermal fillers."
Because every six year old boy needs just this, new boobs and bigger lips. I laughed so hard I couldn't stand it.
There must be a way to filter out their mailing system. Don't you think?
"Hey Si. you got some mail"
"Mom. What's breast enhancment?"
Not really. I didn't give it to him. Becuase you know he would have read the whole thing and had to go to the medical book or something of the like. Yeah. Let's not encourage that quite yet.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Modern Woman
I check my hotmail like a crazy woman. I mean, like every time I have a free second, I take a little sit at the computer, "just to check." Let me clarify; no one EVER emails me. I mean, I might get a legit. email once a day, or every other. But I always think, maybe someone emailed me. "Duh? Did something change here since yesterday?"
Then I check facebook. Ahhh. Another time waster I enjoy in an effort to remove myself from the all too exciting life I lead. And what do I see here you ask? Well, I'll tell you. A lot of my teenage nieces and nephews updating their status 85 times a day. (don't they go to school?) Usually something like this, "I'm sooooo boooorrrreeed." They say. Or, "Hey, the new Taylor Swift album is out!!!!" Just so you know, I don't even know who Taylor Swift is. Sometimes I see something like, "Be the best you today!" From very upbeat and inspirational people. And ALL too often I see something really irritating about some dumb farm game. Arggggh. Yeah, I'm thinking about getting off of facebook. I've already made contact with everyone I've been looking for since I was 12. AND I've already ruined my reputation in trying to be funny on my blog and made people hate me. So why not 86 that part of my life?
Plus, I know all of you check it several times a day too. But you don't update either, do you? Nope. I am looking for something more exciting to hear about than pop stars, yet I NEVER update my own status. Hmmm.
And then I have to click on all the blogs I like to look at. (mostly all of yours) And then I check them again, 15 times a day. JUST in case one of you might update today. And of course my stops at NieNie, Cjane, and The Pioneer Woman are a daily must. (or several times a day)
Really, it's bad. I try not to spend too much time. And have gotten better. I find that more than anything, I am just looking for a little peek inside the store window, if ya know what I'm saying. (see my hands held up to a fancy store window, my big face pressed against the glass...*tap, tap, tap* "Anyone in there? You guys doin' anything fun in there today? Can you let me in? It's freezin' out here..." Get the idea?
The first computer we ever had was brought home by my dad, from work. It was ENORMOUS!! We set it up on the dining room table at the Bothell House. It took up a huge area, was stacked quite high, it was gray, it had a tiny screen and green type face. I'm pretty sure it said, "Do you want to play a game?" (just kidding - that's from War Games, and it was the same time period. That, and Tron and other goofy computer movies) Anyway, we've come pretty far since then. Kind of like our first "car phone." "Did someone just hear that huge cement brick ring?" "No. That's not a brick, thats our 'car phone'." It was cool and all, but have you seen today's phones?
Tiny.
Then I check facebook. Ahhh. Another time waster I enjoy in an effort to remove myself from the all too exciting life I lead. And what do I see here you ask? Well, I'll tell you. A lot of my teenage nieces and nephews updating their status 85 times a day. (don't they go to school?) Usually something like this, "I'm sooooo boooorrrreeed." They say. Or, "Hey, the new Taylor Swift album is out!!!!" Just so you know, I don't even know who Taylor Swift is. Sometimes I see something like, "Be the best you today!" From very upbeat and inspirational people. And ALL too often I see something really irritating about some dumb farm game. Arggggh. Yeah, I'm thinking about getting off of facebook. I've already made contact with everyone I've been looking for since I was 12. AND I've already ruined my reputation in trying to be funny on my blog and made people hate me. So why not 86 that part of my life?
Plus, I know all of you check it several times a day too. But you don't update either, do you? Nope. I am looking for something more exciting to hear about than pop stars, yet I NEVER update my own status. Hmmm.
And then I have to click on all the blogs I like to look at. (mostly all of yours) And then I check them again, 15 times a day. JUST in case one of you might update today. And of course my stops at NieNie, Cjane, and The Pioneer Woman are a daily must. (or several times a day)
Really, it's bad. I try not to spend too much time. And have gotten better. I find that more than anything, I am just looking for a little peek inside the store window, if ya know what I'm saying. (see my hands held up to a fancy store window, my big face pressed against the glass...*tap, tap, tap* "Anyone in there? You guys doin' anything fun in there today? Can you let me in? It's freezin' out here..." Get the idea?
The first computer we ever had was brought home by my dad, from work. It was ENORMOUS!! We set it up on the dining room table at the Bothell House. It took up a huge area, was stacked quite high, it was gray, it had a tiny screen and green type face. I'm pretty sure it said, "Do you want to play a game?" (just kidding - that's from War Games, and it was the same time period. That, and Tron and other goofy computer movies) Anyway, we've come pretty far since then. Kind of like our first "car phone." "Did someone just hear that huge cement brick ring?" "No. That's not a brick, thats our 'car phone'." It was cool and all, but have you seen today's phones?
Tiny.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
In-N-Out
I've waited almost ten years to get an In-n-Out Burger here in Utah. Ten years! That's right folks. After years of going to AZ, NV, and CA - making our first stops at an In-n-out, one finally opened here in Orem last Thursday.
Oooooh! I love a perfect DRINKABLE shake. (you see, here where I live, shakes are like DQ's Blizzards, which I enjoy, but who doesn't love a nice creamy cold sip from a straw?) At any rate - the line to INB has been no less than 45 min. day and night. (It truly is a sight - they hired 120 people to man opening day - there are A LOT of Californian's here in UT!) On my third try, yesterday after school, the line was 10 minutes and I WAS IN! Oh MAMA!!!! (slurrrrp)
The burger was burger heaven. The fries, delighful, and the shake? Let's just say I made my kids share while I resereved ONE just for MWA. (that's french, you know - for ME!)
Annyyyyywho...So as we're almost home, I've had just a few tiny sips to tease my chubby taste buds. Sweet bliss.... (I like to save and enjoy really naughty food in the privacy of my room, or the bathroom, or lock the kids outside - no kids, just me and a book - or the TV. "Don't bother me, I'm piggin' it up in here!!! I'll be right out." Call it what you will. Eating disorder, pig face, mothers little helper, whatever. I know I have issues.) Then, baby starts to have a fit! He wants some of the 'kids shake' - and it's gone. I hand him mine to pacify him. How much could a one year old drink?! Let me rephrase that; how much could a one year old DUMP. ALL. OVER. HIMSELF?! Yep. The EN_TIRE stinkin' thing! Poured all over him, down the car seat, out the buckle holes, onto the seat of the car, and down the side.
What was that about 'a drinkable shake'? (maybe that's why shakes are like icecream here - so many kids, you know) And TEN YEARS?! Oh well. Think of the calories he saved me. (oh, don't think I didn't try to scoop it up and put it back in my cup - 'cause you know I did...futile, though.)
*sigh*
Don't worry. I'll try again soon. Maybe after I get my stomach all stretched out from Thanksgiving. Yep. More room. Good idea.
Oooooh! I love a perfect DRINKABLE shake. (you see, here where I live, shakes are like DQ's Blizzards, which I enjoy, but who doesn't love a nice creamy cold sip from a straw?) At any rate - the line to INB has been no less than 45 min. day and night. (It truly is a sight - they hired 120 people to man opening day - there are A LOT of Californian's here in UT!) On my third try, yesterday after school, the line was 10 minutes and I WAS IN! Oh MAMA!!!! (slurrrrp)
The burger was burger heaven. The fries, delighful, and the shake? Let's just say I made my kids share while I resereved ONE just for MWA. (that's french, you know - for ME!)
Annyyyyywho...So as we're almost home, I've had just a few tiny sips to tease my chubby taste buds. Sweet bliss.... (I like to save and enjoy really naughty food in the privacy of my room, or the bathroom, or lock the kids outside - no kids, just me and a book - or the TV. "Don't bother me, I'm piggin' it up in here!!! I'll be right out." Call it what you will. Eating disorder, pig face, mothers little helper, whatever. I know I have issues.) Then, baby starts to have a fit! He wants some of the 'kids shake' - and it's gone. I hand him mine to pacify him. How much could a one year old drink?! Let me rephrase that; how much could a one year old DUMP. ALL. OVER. HIMSELF?! Yep. The EN_TIRE stinkin' thing! Poured all over him, down the car seat, out the buckle holes, onto the seat of the car, and down the side.
What was that about 'a drinkable shake'? (maybe that's why shakes are like icecream here - so many kids, you know) And TEN YEARS?! Oh well. Think of the calories he saved me. (oh, don't think I didn't try to scoop it up and put it back in my cup - 'cause you know I did...futile, though.)
*sigh*
Don't worry. I'll try again soon. Maybe after I get my stomach all stretched out from Thanksgiving. Yep. More room. Good idea.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Hello's and Goodbye's
As fall has fully set in, and winter quickly approaches here at the big blue house, we have had some sad goodbye's.
And one big happy hello.
Hello, to our new cat Sparkles. She's cute, huh? (Don't panic! She is an OUTDOOR ONLY cat! Heaven forbid I have an animal in the house. Well, other than the four I gave birth to.) We recently discovered some unwanted guests that I'd like to say goodbye to, called MICE! When you have chickens, you have mice. So I set out to find a cat that could help control this problem. BUT, I needed a very specific cat.
*free (or under five dollars)
*outdoor, TOTALLY
*litter box trained
*good with kids
*used to chickens
*a mouser
Just so happens, one Saturday, I found the cat in a local paper. She's six months old and comes from a family of LOTS of kids, so she's very used to being man handled. She lived with four chickens, and her mom taught her to hunt. The kids love her, and I love that she lives outside and they can play with her whenever they want. She makes me SNEEZE! Ah-choo! So far - no mice. (well, not from her anyway - I've caught quite a few in traps) But I'm pretty sure I saw them shaking in their boots. She's letting 'em know who's boss. (yeah right)
We said goodbye to our fantastic homemade Halloween decorations. And HELLO to a clean window!
Goodbye to A LOT of leaves and apples, and hello to lots of fun in their piles.
Now, here's the really sad news. In the end, we said good bye to our girls. Oh, they've been wonderful and we have LOVED them!
About the same time we found the mice, we learned that we are not zoned for chickens here in "the city." So before we were over run with short furry rodents or our neighbors called the police. We decided to let them go with dignity. But we all felt very sad.
Our friends' brother has two coops, and said he'd be happy to take them. So we loaded the girls up in Huggies diaper boxes, each got their own. Made some air holes, got them all comfy, and drove an hour to their new home. They arrived in style - in their own personal carriers. Everyone had to give them one last hug and a 'cluck' for love.
Here they are. Merryweather, Fauna, and Flora. Aren't they lovely? Chickens really are the greatest.
And one big happy hello.
Hello, to our new cat Sparkles. She's cute, huh? (Don't panic! She is an OUTDOOR ONLY cat! Heaven forbid I have an animal in the house. Well, other than the four I gave birth to.) We recently discovered some unwanted guests that I'd like to say goodbye to, called MICE! When you have chickens, you have mice. So I set out to find a cat that could help control this problem. BUT, I needed a very specific cat.*free (or under five dollars)
*outdoor, TOTALLY
*litter box trained
*good with kids
*used to chickens
*a mouser
Just so happens, one Saturday, I found the cat in a local paper. She's six months old and comes from a family of LOTS of kids, so she's very used to being man handled. She lived with four chickens, and her mom taught her to hunt. The kids love her, and I love that she lives outside and they can play with her whenever they want. She makes me SNEEZE! Ah-choo! So far - no mice. (well, not from her anyway - I've caught quite a few in traps) But I'm pretty sure I saw them shaking in their boots. She's letting 'em know who's boss. (yeah right)
We said goodbye to our fantastic homemade Halloween decorations. And HELLO to a clean window!
Goodbye to A LOT of leaves and apples, and hello to lots of fun in their piles.
Now, here's the really sad news. In the end, we said good bye to our girls. Oh, they've been wonderful and we have LOVED them! 
About the same time we found the mice, we learned that we are not zoned for chickens here in "the city." So before we were over run with short furry rodents or our neighbors called the police. We decided to let them go with dignity. But we all felt very sad.
Our friends' brother has two coops, and said he'd be happy to take them. So we loaded the girls up in Huggies diaper boxes, each got their own. Made some air holes, got them all comfy, and drove an hour to their new home. They arrived in style - in their own personal carriers. Everyone had to give them one last hug and a 'cluck' for love.
Here they are. Merryweather, Fauna, and Flora. Aren't they lovely? Chickens really are the greatest.Too bad they poop so much.
Sorry. Just a couple more of Chuggy. He's just too cute. Sorry.
Here he is, ready for church. Do you love this pose? He did it himself. We call it his "senior picture" pose.
Here he is, ready for church. Do you love this pose? He did it himself. We call it his "senior picture" pose.
He cried and grabbed for these buckets until I got them down for him. This is what he did once he got them. He's so handy, isn't he?
These are his two favorite things in life. Bebow and bappy. Mmmm.
AND, last but not least. Can you tell who has an older sister that likes to dress up? And he wants to do whatever the big ones are doing. This is his favorite. Shhh. Don't tell him. It's for a GIRL to dress up in. He doesn't care though.
AND, last but not least. Can you tell who has an older sister that likes to dress up? And he wants to do whatever the big ones are doing. This is his favorite. Shhh. Don't tell him. It's for a GIRL to dress up in. He doesn't care though.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Chubby
Ode to Chubbiness and Yellow Boots.
This really does have to be one of my favorite ages.
This really does have to be one of my favorite ages.
Love him.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
True Confessions
True Confessions.
I just really think that maybe I shouldn't post this. That documenting the truth may be more than I should share.
Oh well. In an effort to make all of you feel better about your housekeeping - I will.
THIS is Mt. St.Laundry.
I know. It's outrageous.
You see, I put all of my clean laundry on the "folding" table in the laundry room as I wash each load. But lets be honest, it sees a LOT more "piling" than actually "folding". I rarely have any dirty laundry, as I can't stand that. But what? I can stand the worlds biggest pile of CLEAN laundry? Puh-leese.
So last week I asked Peter to bring up the mountain before he left for work. So I could FOLD it. Oh mama. Help me.
(I do this HUGE task every couple of weeks. It's awful. Other than that, it's daily digging for clothes!)
As he brought this monstrosity up the stairs, he says, "I think it was vacuumed packed in the laundry room, because it has EX-PLODED!"
And here is Peter showing the true prospective. Even he isn't tall enough to cover the whole pile.
It's enough to make you weep.
Seriously.
Isn't it?
I just really think that maybe I shouldn't post this. That documenting the truth may be more than I should share.
Oh well. In an effort to make all of you feel better about your housekeeping - I will.
THIS is Mt. St.Laundry.
I know. It's outrageous.
You see, I put all of my clean laundry on the "folding" table in the laundry room as I wash each load. But lets be honest, it sees a LOT more "piling" than actually "folding". I rarely have any dirty laundry, as I can't stand that. But what? I can stand the worlds biggest pile of CLEAN laundry? Puh-leese.
So last week I asked Peter to bring up the mountain before he left for work. So I could FOLD it. Oh mama. Help me.
(I do this HUGE task every couple of weeks. It's awful. Other than that, it's daily digging for clothes!)
As he brought this monstrosity up the stairs, he says, "I think it was vacuumed packed in the laundry room, because it has EX-PLODED!"
In an effort to show the enormity of the pile, the kids generously posed for me.
I tackle such an effort by sorting into the owners piles. Then I fold and put away batch by batch. I'm sure you all have a system, but this is what works for me. (I use the word "works" loosely. Because if something was 'working', then I wouldn't have this disaster, now would I?)
This, the a fore mentioned process; and cursing each morning as I did for clean clothes for each member of the family while saying, "I HAVE to fold this!!! Arghh!!" It's a great system. (haha)
And here is Peter showing the true prospective. Even he isn't tall enough to cover the whole pile.It's enough to make you weep.
Seriously.
Isn't it?
Monday, November 2, 2009
The Spoooky Swine Flu
Was this a a perrrr-fect night for Halloween. Wasn't it? I think the perfect weather is a chill in the air, no rain, full moon, and lots of fun. Yep. This was the epitome of Fall.
I have not been called 'mom' for nearly a week. I am formally known as 'McGonagle' around here. (and I don't know how to spell it) Dad is Dumbledore, and the rest of the fam are Harry, Ron, (Ronald or Mr. Weasly), Hermione, and Hedwig the owl. (except when Ron wants him to be Neville Longbottom, and then he's Neville) Seriously, I hear things like, "McGonagle, what's for dinner." And the likes. While I find it humorous, I'm ready to be called 'mom' again.
Ron walked into my room, fully clothed in his outfit, at 7:14 Halloween morning. "It's not for a while yet, Ron." "I know, McGonagle. But I can't wait for the Halloween feast. " I just don't know that a six year old should read Harry Potter. I mean the summer between Kindergarten and first grade, to have read it twice, might be a little much.
Every child in our family has worn this costume, and I love it. They are SO cute and chubby. Look how he is holding his hands. Isn't he cute?
In case you haven't heard. We had/have the swine flu. Apparently no matter how vigilant one may be. (like your own personal CDC) it is still possible to contract. Some may be saying, "you really have it?" And yes. We had the actual CDC 24 hour test done, which is WAY more accurate than the nose swab at your regular doctor.
And this is where I found Chubby today. Unknown to me, Dumbledore had hidden some of the kids candy behind a chair in our room. Chubs was quiet for quite a while, and when I couldn't find him right away, I listened to the crinkling of wrappers. Following those, this is what I found. A very cute toddler digging in two pumpkins full of Halloween candy. Isn't he cute? I know, I'm not partial or anything.
I have not been called 'mom' for nearly a week. I am formally known as 'McGonagle' around here. (and I don't know how to spell it) Dad is Dumbledore, and the rest of the fam are Harry, Ron, (Ronald or Mr. Weasly), Hermione, and Hedwig the owl. (except when Ron wants him to be Neville Longbottom, and then he's Neville) Seriously, I hear things like, "McGonagle, what's for dinner." And the likes. While I find it humorous, I'm ready to be called 'mom' again.
Ron walked into my room, fully clothed in his outfit, at 7:14 Halloween morning. "It's not for a while yet, Ron." "I know, McGonagle. But I can't wait for the Halloween feast. " I just don't know that a six year old should read Harry Potter. I mean the summer between Kindergarten and first grade, to have read it twice, might be a little much. 
Every child in our family has worn this costume, and I love it. They are SO cute and chubby. Look how he is holding his hands. Isn't he cute?
In case you haven't heard. We had/have the swine flu. Apparently no matter how vigilant one may be. (like your own personal CDC) it is still possible to contract. Some may be saying, "you really have it?" And yes. We had the actual CDC 24 hour test done, which is WAY more accurate than the nose swab at your regular doctor.The strange things were her (their) symptoms. Each kid, over the last three weeks, has had a rumble tummy, and a cough for a week or so. Each one had a fever of 100.5 or so, for less than 24 hours. While Ruby's lasted longer than the other kids, it still wasn't any worse than anything else kids get. So on day 14 of a runny bum, I figured, if no one else had it - no one else is going to get it. So I let her go to school and dance, after missing for two weeks. That night, OF COURSE, she had a fever of 103. So the next day, mainly due to the di-di for so long, we took her in. And after exposing all those kids, very unknowingly, her 24 hour test came back POSITIVE! Who can believe that?
She really hasn't been that sick. I thought she must have had some kind of bug, to keep her pooping so much. And the cough was just like every other kid I know. But she wasn't tired, or more whiny than usual. She was eating fine. Nothing like you hear H1N1 is supposed to be like. Her temp lasted one day. BUT, because I hate irresponsible parents and DID NOT want to be blamed for knowingly infecting every person I know - we have been quarantined to the house. EXCEPT, of course, for trick or treating. At which time I made Roo wear a mask and sanitize her hands every few houses. AND I intentionally skipped anyone I knew that was sick, had a baby, comprised immune system or asthma. Aren't I nice?
Again. She really had a tiny cough Saturday night, but I wanted to be as careful as possible. She did look cute though, huh? I tried to get her to go as a doctor or nurse - no go! But she did want to be Hermione REALLY bad. Sorry, no costume for her. (she just knows the name, hasn't seen the movie)
End of a long story? I'm quite sure everyone that is going to get the swine flu at my house, has now had the swine flu. Fingers crossed.
And this is where I found Chubby today. Unknown to me, Dumbledore had hidden some of the kids candy behind a chair in our room. Chubs was quiet for quite a while, and when I couldn't find him right away, I listened to the crinkling of wrappers. Following those, this is what I found. A very cute toddler digging in two pumpkins full of Halloween candy. Isn't he cute? I know, I'm not partial or anything.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Kitchen for Disease Control
I've got my own CDC. At any given moment someone in my house has something. This is by far the worst our family has seen. And if we don't die from the flu, it will be lysol poisoning that will do us in.
This here is the preventative side of the counter. And the 'if you are sick, take this' area. You can hardly see the 20 gallon container of hand sanitizer from Costco. But never fear - oh, yes. It's there.
And here is the 'clean up' area. Notice both have industrial size cans of lysol. And the tissue box is just conviently located here as well. 
This here is the preventative side of the counter. And the 'if you are sick, take this' area. You can hardly see the 20 gallon container of hand sanitizer from Costco. But never fear - oh, yes. It's there.
And here is the 'clean up' area. Notice both have industrial size cans of lysol. And the tissue box is just conviently located here as well. I CAN'T wait to be getting everyone better. Is your house full of junk as well? If so, my condolences. I'm very tired of it, and I'm sure you are too.
Now for more important topics. Have you met Ronald Weasly yet? Harry got out the door before I got a photo on here. I'll have to get them together later.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Kitchen Joy
On my kitchen counter today:
Roasted pumpkin seeds
Half eaten Barbie Birthday Cake, her skirt - that is
Delicious apple crisp delivered lovingly from a friend
A dirty, "You are Special" plate
Breakfast in Bed pancake leftovers from Ruby's birthday breakfast
Lots of pink things, presents of Roo's
Lingering pumpkin guts from last nights carvings
and outside...
I can hear the chickens clucking while snow is fluttering to the ground, with a
background of orange, yellow and red fall leaves.
Mmmm. Fall at our house is defiantly my favorite.
Roasted pumpkin seeds
Half eaten Barbie Birthday Cake, her skirt - that is
Delicious apple crisp delivered lovingly from a friend
A dirty, "You are Special" plate
Breakfast in Bed pancake leftovers from Ruby's birthday breakfast
Lots of pink things, presents of Roo's
Lingering pumpkin guts from last nights carvings
and outside...
I can hear the chickens clucking while snow is fluttering to the ground, with a
background of orange, yellow and red fall leaves.
Mmmm. Fall at our house is defiantly my favorite.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Not So Bungee Jumping
I recently saw a show where a man was going bungee jumping. It reminded me of a time long ago…
Remember those six months at Ricks? (which by the way was the name of a topless bar in Seattle, so when you told people you were “going to Ricks” – you got some laughs) Anywho…So, as I was saying. Remember those dateless, boyless, full of whine days I told you about? Well, I have a good story for you.
It was homecoming and my good friend Holly and I had – shocker – no dates. So we loaded in to my 1986 gray Mazda 626 (same car that carried the fire hose) and went out on the town, to see what we could see. Ever been to Rexburg? Let’s just say, it was a pretty short trip. But to our happy surprise, there happened to be a ‘traveling’ bungee jumping crane in the grocery store parking lot. We drove by and thought, hmm? Why not?
We didn’t have any thing better to do.
As we get out of the car, we noticed there were only girls in line for this blessed event. Ha. Homecoming at Ricks. Should I have guessed anything else? (remember the 3 to 1 ratio) So we get in line, pay our thirty dollars and watch the girls ahead of us go. Oh, they were the biggest wimps. I mean, whine, “ohhhh, I can’t jump” or “I’m sooo scared!” Blah. Blah. Blah.
Well, Holly is about as quiet and nothing, much like myself. So we had to razz the little miss prisses. “Jump you wimp!!!” we yelled. “Come on you sissy – hurry up!” And so on. Let’s just say, not my finest moment. We were ruthless. A full fledge nightmare of a peanut gallery.
As our turn arrives, I tell Holly I’ll go first. I get in the basket of the crane, and up we go. Remember, this is a ‘traveling’ bungee jumping thing. It’s pitch dark, the wind in HOWLING – as it only can in the artic of eastern Idaho. Suddenly I start thinking. Something I hadn’t done prior to this point in the evening. I’m thinking things like; could they even see very well when the hooked the harness up? I mean it is ten o clock at night in a parking lot. And, how safe could jumping off a crane onto asphalt really be? And, holy CRAP! What am I thinking??!!!
And now Holly is heckling me! “Hurry up, you chicken!” Uhhhh. Ummm. Uhhhhh. I really don’t want to do this. I have no shame. “Can you jump with me,” I say to the guy. “I want to go down.” I mutter. “If you go down you lose your thirty bucks – just jump” He says. Aaaaah. Mmmm. (up to this point every single girl has jumped – no one backed out. Until me.) Finally the guy looks me right in the eyes, I can still see his bright blue eyes today, “Just *#*##blankin’ jump!” He yells as me.
That’s it! NO one talks to me like that!!!! (hurumph!!!) “Take me down, NOW!!” And down we went to a hysteric Holly you was laughing her pants off. And up she went and walked off the edge like she was jumping in a pool. Laughing and screaming the whole time.
Funny thing is - I’ve never regretted it. I like to think it was one of my wiser moments in my life. After weighing all the odds, I like to think a more intelligent person would have chosen what I did.
Okay. And a total chicken.
Remember those six months at Ricks? (which by the way was the name of a topless bar in Seattle, so when you told people you were “going to Ricks” – you got some laughs) Anywho…So, as I was saying. Remember those dateless, boyless, full of whine days I told you about? Well, I have a good story for you.
It was homecoming and my good friend Holly and I had – shocker – no dates. So we loaded in to my 1986 gray Mazda 626 (same car that carried the fire hose) and went out on the town, to see what we could see. Ever been to Rexburg? Let’s just say, it was a pretty short trip. But to our happy surprise, there happened to be a ‘traveling’ bungee jumping crane in the grocery store parking lot. We drove by and thought, hmm? Why not?
We didn’t have any thing better to do.
As we get out of the car, we noticed there were only girls in line for this blessed event. Ha. Homecoming at Ricks. Should I have guessed anything else? (remember the 3 to 1 ratio) So we get in line, pay our thirty dollars and watch the girls ahead of us go. Oh, they were the biggest wimps. I mean, whine, “ohhhh, I can’t jump” or “I’m sooo scared!” Blah. Blah. Blah.
Well, Holly is about as quiet and nothing, much like myself. So we had to razz the little miss prisses. “Jump you wimp!!!” we yelled. “Come on you sissy – hurry up!” And so on. Let’s just say, not my finest moment. We were ruthless. A full fledge nightmare of a peanut gallery.
As our turn arrives, I tell Holly I’ll go first. I get in the basket of the crane, and up we go. Remember, this is a ‘traveling’ bungee jumping thing. It’s pitch dark, the wind in HOWLING – as it only can in the artic of eastern Idaho. Suddenly I start thinking. Something I hadn’t done prior to this point in the evening. I’m thinking things like; could they even see very well when the hooked the harness up? I mean it is ten o clock at night in a parking lot. And, how safe could jumping off a crane onto asphalt really be? And, holy CRAP! What am I thinking??!!!
And now Holly is heckling me! “Hurry up, you chicken!” Uhhhh. Ummm. Uhhhhh. I really don’t want to do this. I have no shame. “Can you jump with me,” I say to the guy. “I want to go down.” I mutter. “If you go down you lose your thirty bucks – just jump” He says. Aaaaah. Mmmm. (up to this point every single girl has jumped – no one backed out. Until me.) Finally the guy looks me right in the eyes, I can still see his bright blue eyes today, “Just *#*##blankin’ jump!” He yells as me.
That’s it! NO one talks to me like that!!!! (hurumph!!!) “Take me down, NOW!!” And down we went to a hysteric Holly you was laughing her pants off. And up she went and walked off the edge like she was jumping in a pool. Laughing and screaming the whole time.
Funny thing is - I’ve never regretted it. I like to think it was one of my wiser moments in my life. After weighing all the odds, I like to think a more intelligent person would have chosen what I did.
Okay. And a total chicken.
Picture from www.london-se1.co.uk/news/view/3129
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Still Here
Well. I didn't run away. But I wanted to.
Life seems to be getting the best of me lately.
On what seemed like a better note, Peter and I needed to head to Houston this past weekend. Long story. But thanks to many families pitching it, mainly the parents and Minky's fam - off we went.
I knew we'd have a little time to visit our old house, see the hospital where Big Sam was born, and look around a bit. But I also knew we'd have a little bit of time to lay by the pool, read a book and eat candy bars. So, I of course, packed suit, book, and candy - ready to go.
I felt lousy all day Sunday, but just thought that travelling all day made me feel sick. Then at dinner, our 88 dollar dinner, I had to excuse myself - twice -to go throw up.
And that was just the beginning.
I spent the next 30 hours wishing I was dead. Nothing like going on a trip, to spend the entire time totally sick. I felt very lucky that the company we were with was happy to keep us another night, and the rental car, and change the flight. Oh so very nice. I just don't think there is any way I could have made it home the day we were supposed to.
Ever felt like you've been run over by a truck?
At least I didn't have to be "mom" while wising for death. That made it a little better. I did come home to what I was sure was the Swine Flu. But, I guess when they're better two hours later - it's not. Silly me.
And that's whats in the news around here.
Life seems to be getting the best of me lately.
On what seemed like a better note, Peter and I needed to head to Houston this past weekend. Long story. But thanks to many families pitching it, mainly the parents and Minky's fam - off we went.
I knew we'd have a little time to visit our old house, see the hospital where Big Sam was born, and look around a bit. But I also knew we'd have a little bit of time to lay by the pool, read a book and eat candy bars. So, I of course, packed suit, book, and candy - ready to go.
I felt lousy all day Sunday, but just thought that travelling all day made me feel sick. Then at dinner, our 88 dollar dinner, I had to excuse myself - twice -to go throw up.
And that was just the beginning.
I spent the next 30 hours wishing I was dead. Nothing like going on a trip, to spend the entire time totally sick. I felt very lucky that the company we were with was happy to keep us another night, and the rental car, and change the flight. Oh so very nice. I just don't think there is any way I could have made it home the day we were supposed to.
Ever felt like you've been run over by a truck?
At least I didn't have to be "mom" while wising for death. That made it a little better. I did come home to what I was sure was the Swine Flu. But, I guess when they're better two hours later - it's not. Silly me.
And that's whats in the news around here.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Running Away
I'm running away today.
No. Really I am.
Aren't weekends supposed to be nice? How come I was busy all weekend, but nothing to show for it? Okay, 68 quarts of apple pie filling done over the last week - finished this weekend. (these are neighbor Christmas gifts this year, BTW. I mean, I like apple pie/crisp, but really...) Does a REALLY messy house count as "something to show?"
Then Sunday brought me running out of Sacrament Meeting with Big Sam as he was trying not to throw up. Nothing like seeing your nine year old hug a gross 'public' toilet. He made it until after church to fully throw up. Good work! I taught Relief Society, cried through the whole thing. I hate crying teachers - sorry everyone. (no one reads this that comes to RS anyway)
So an afternoon of barfs, imputing 9,835 recipes (not really, but maybe 30), then going to bed with someone crying and waking up to someone crying, left me to mutter - first thing this moring -
"I'm running away today."
And I should have, right then. Because the two day old dishes in the sink are enough to make me cry. (although I did them already) The laundry pile, one like I've never seen before, is ENORMOUS! Chuggers has already colored all over the kitchen wall with orange and purple crayons. Ruby has whined and cried about not wanting to wear socks, Chubby is hitting her, she can't get her shoes on, and she doesn't want to wear her sweater to preschool. I was terribly impatient with poor Si today, and he didn't deserve it at all. And I have a sick nine year old laying in his bed.
The list goes on. But I'll quit whining. Boo hoo for me. I know. And it's only 9:39 am. Boy oh boy, this is going to be a great day. So if you see me running down the street, not looking over my shoulder. Don't stop me. I'm running away. Hopefully, I'll get to a sunny beach somewhere....
No. Really I am.
Aren't weekends supposed to be nice? How come I was busy all weekend, but nothing to show for it? Okay, 68 quarts of apple pie filling done over the last week - finished this weekend. (these are neighbor Christmas gifts this year, BTW. I mean, I like apple pie/crisp, but really...) Does a REALLY messy house count as "something to show?"
Then Sunday brought me running out of Sacrament Meeting with Big Sam as he was trying not to throw up. Nothing like seeing your nine year old hug a gross 'public' toilet. He made it until after church to fully throw up. Good work! I taught Relief Society, cried through the whole thing. I hate crying teachers - sorry everyone. (no one reads this that comes to RS anyway)
So an afternoon of barfs, imputing 9,835 recipes (not really, but maybe 30), then going to bed with someone crying and waking up to someone crying, left me to mutter - first thing this moring -
"I'm running away today."
And I should have, right then. Because the two day old dishes in the sink are enough to make me cry. (although I did them already) The laundry pile, one like I've never seen before, is ENORMOUS! Chuggers has already colored all over the kitchen wall with orange and purple crayons. Ruby has whined and cried about not wanting to wear socks, Chubby is hitting her, she can't get her shoes on, and she doesn't want to wear her sweater to preschool. I was terribly impatient with poor Si today, and he didn't deserve it at all. And I have a sick nine year old laying in his bed.
The list goes on. But I'll quit whining. Boo hoo for me. I know. And it's only 9:39 am. Boy oh boy, this is going to be a great day. So if you see me running down the street, not looking over my shoulder. Don't stop me. I'm running away. Hopefully, I'll get to a sunny beach somewhere....
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Cookin' Game On!
Our ward has decided to put together a cookbook. At who's suggestion? Yep. Mine. And who has to do all the work? Yep. Yours truly. And while I don't really mind, I have come into a bit of trouble. (but not for long!)
You see, imputing my recipes, and many others, I find myself wanting EVERYTHING!!! I mean, it's a constant -ohhhh, mmmmm, I love that, that sounds SOOO good, I have to try that, I haven't made that in forever, ooooooh - party.
But let me remind you of the broken oven. It's broken. There, you've been reminded.
BUT THAT WAS THEN!!!
Turns out it wasn't my three year old, flat cook top, stainless steel, oven after all. (good thing, 'cause I was ready to punch Amana in the nose!) Anywho, turns out it was just my fantastic 1974 wiring of the house. Phew! No big deal. When the electrician tells you, "this is how house fires start" should you worry? Nah. (it was shorted out, burned breaker)
On with the story! Well, so for a little more than 24 hours I have had my dear loved one back. No more electric fry pans for me! No siree! And crock pot, if I don't see you again for a very long time - it'll still be too soon. My good ol' oven and stove top are back in business.
What to make first?......Bread! Of course. White, deliciously hot and buttery, homemade bread. Next? Soft, perfectly moist sugar cookies. And a chocolate cake. German Chocolate with gooey, melt in your mouth nutty goodness of a topping. And while I didn't quite have the time for the pumpkin rolls tonight - they're on the list for tomorrow! Yep. You know the ones. Rolled up pumpkin cake filled with delectable cream cheese icing. Oh, help me. Mmmm.
What's next! Mmm. I'll find something. Of course.
And in other news. My adorably short babysitter sat tonight, and woah! I need a maid. Poor thing had to put Chubbers to bed, walking through the Swine Den, to get there. (He sleeps in our "walk in closet." AKA, a bedroom turned into a closet, turned into a bedroom. ) Why is it that the majority of my house can be clean, but my room looks like a bomb went off? Why!!??
And did you see Nie today? She's so cute. Isn't she? Looks so good. So proud of her. (yes, I like to talk like we know each other. Well... if the shoe fits. Okay, so she did leave me a comment once. Hate to brag....
Haha, just kidding. But she did do a nice job. Didn't she?
So there you have it. Loved all the great comments on my football jerk post. Glad to know I'm not alone in being bugged beyond belief by ding dongs.
You see, imputing my recipes, and many others, I find myself wanting EVERYTHING!!! I mean, it's a constant -ohhhh, mmmmm, I love that, that sounds SOOO good, I have to try that, I haven't made that in forever, ooooooh - party.
But let me remind you of the broken oven. It's broken. There, you've been reminded.
BUT THAT WAS THEN!!!
Turns out it wasn't my three year old, flat cook top, stainless steel, oven after all. (good thing, 'cause I was ready to punch Amana in the nose!) Anywho, turns out it was just my fantastic 1974 wiring of the house. Phew! No big deal. When the electrician tells you, "this is how house fires start" should you worry? Nah. (it was shorted out, burned breaker)
On with the story! Well, so for a little more than 24 hours I have had my dear loved one back. No more electric fry pans for me! No siree! And crock pot, if I don't see you again for a very long time - it'll still be too soon. My good ol' oven and stove top are back in business.
What to make first?......Bread! Of course. White, deliciously hot and buttery, homemade bread. Next? Soft, perfectly moist sugar cookies. And a chocolate cake. German Chocolate with gooey, melt in your mouth nutty goodness of a topping. And while I didn't quite have the time for the pumpkin rolls tonight - they're on the list for tomorrow! Yep. You know the ones. Rolled up pumpkin cake filled with delectable cream cheese icing. Oh, help me. Mmmm.
What's next! Mmm. I'll find something. Of course.
And in other news. My adorably short babysitter sat tonight, and woah! I need a maid. Poor thing had to put Chubbers to bed, walking through the Swine Den, to get there. (He sleeps in our "walk in closet." AKA, a bedroom turned into a closet, turned into a bedroom. ) Why is it that the majority of my house can be clean, but my room looks like a bomb went off? Why!!??
And did you see Nie today? She's so cute. Isn't she? Looks so good. So proud of her. (yes, I like to talk like we know each other. Well... if the shoe fits. Okay, so she did leave me a comment once. Hate to brag....
Haha, just kidding. But she did do a nice job. Didn't she?
So there you have it. Loved all the great comments on my football jerk post. Glad to know I'm not alone in being bugged beyond belief by ding dongs.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Not a Sports Fan
Warning: This post is kind of rude. Sorry. Sometimes, one just needs to vent!
Dear Man on Other Team at Sam's Football Game,
I see you each week, waiting, "gearing up." You are the reason I don't like football or the dad's of football players. I know I am rude and judgemental, this is nothing new. But I can see that you are too.
The way you shave your nine year olds head into a Mohawk. What are you trying to say? And your Tramp Stamp coming out of your pants. (they're tacky enough on women, but men? really? woof.) The way you don't listen to your son, because you're too busy bossing and yelling at him. Your 'tough guy', 'better look out', attitude. Puh-leeese. It's a game. It's FLAG football, and they're NINE! You are raising another generation of JERKS!
You get to the game an hour early so you can "watch the competition." "Watch that guy there. You'll be playing them in a week!" , you say. Again, HELP ME! They are nine! You 'warm up'. Jump up and down, roll your neck, spin your arms. Hi, you're not playing - and you're not one of the coaches. (thank heavens!)
But I think that disturbs me the most is what you like to say to your son, in your fake east coast accent. "We're gonna win! We're winners! Right?! And what do winners do? (I'm thinking to myself here, work hard? Play hard? But no...) That's right! Any-thing they want!" Oh, good heavens. This is the mentality I see on the news about football players and them going to jail! They do, in fact, do anything they want. Including break the law! For crying out loud! Mister! How about, have fun? Do your best? It's better to play fair than to win? Obviously you never learned this.
Oh well. Maybe it's this attitude of yours that allows you to be a Seven Eleven manager. (I'm not making that up, I heard him say it) Not trying to judge here, heaven knows I have my own troubles. But, there could be more in life for you.
At any rate. I think you're a bit of a jerk. I cringe when I see you and even more so when you open your mouth. Your poor son. Never had a chance, did he?
Sincerely,
The Judgemental, White Bread, Bubble Living Lady from the Game
Dear Man on Other Team at Sam's Football Game,
I see you each week, waiting, "gearing up." You are the reason I don't like football or the dad's of football players. I know I am rude and judgemental, this is nothing new. But I can see that you are too.
The way you shave your nine year olds head into a Mohawk. What are you trying to say? And your Tramp Stamp coming out of your pants. (they're tacky enough on women, but men? really? woof.) The way you don't listen to your son, because you're too busy bossing and yelling at him. Your 'tough guy', 'better look out', attitude. Puh-leeese. It's a game. It's FLAG football, and they're NINE! You are raising another generation of JERKS!
You get to the game an hour early so you can "watch the competition." "Watch that guy there. You'll be playing them in a week!" , you say. Again, HELP ME! They are nine! You 'warm up'. Jump up and down, roll your neck, spin your arms. Hi, you're not playing - and you're not one of the coaches. (thank heavens!)
But I think that disturbs me the most is what you like to say to your son, in your fake east coast accent. "We're gonna win! We're winners! Right?! And what do winners do? (I'm thinking to myself here, work hard? Play hard? But no...) That's right! Any-thing they want!" Oh, good heavens. This is the mentality I see on the news about football players and them going to jail! They do, in fact, do anything they want. Including break the law! For crying out loud! Mister! How about, have fun? Do your best? It's better to play fair than to win? Obviously you never learned this.
Oh well. Maybe it's this attitude of yours that allows you to be a Seven Eleven manager. (I'm not making that up, I heard him say it) Not trying to judge here, heaven knows I have my own troubles. But, there could be more in life for you.
At any rate. I think you're a bit of a jerk. I cringe when I see you and even more so when you open your mouth. Your poor son. Never had a chance, did he?
Sincerely,
The Judgemental, White Bread, Bubble Living Lady from the Game
Friday, October 2, 2009
Only Date at Ricks College
The end of my Freshman year in college brought many changes. The boy I was crazy about was in the MTC, and my best friend in Ellensburg was busy with her life elsewhere. How could I go back to Central without them? What's a girl to do?
Well, what any girl would do, naturally. Move to Idaho.
I went to Ricks College for six months. Summer and Fall of my Sophomore year. I moved in with five other girls, ALL from Idaho. Luckily, my dear friend Anna lived right across the street. I spent most of my days pining away for the one I loved. Oh, I was a mad woman. Checking the mail ten times a day. Swooning over letters. Why would I even look at a member of the other species - heaven forbid! I was a goner. A wreck. And let me just make a formal apology to all roommates Summer and Fall, right here and now. If I were you, I would have punched me.
So my life consisted of letters from said boy - to and from. Missing said boy, crying, whining, and being disgusted by all others and their situations. None were as important as mine. (woof, really - someone put me out of my misery.) My life also consisted of Art Classes, which I LOVED at Ricks. Good times with my Fall roommates. (I can't even tell you the names of the Summer batch. Something like, 'big hair', 'owns too many floral prints', and 'I'm dying to get married at 18'. -I know, I'm mean) I also spent my days at The Ard's, learning my much needed life's lessons. And the rest of the time I spent trying to stay warm. Rexburg is COLD.
So in all of the boy-wahh-ness, I never even talked to another boy. And why would I? The ratio at that time, of girls to boys, was like 3 to 1. And when you factor in That One Girl, the one everyone wants to date, it's more like 30 to 1. So, I was better off waiting patiently (tip my halo here) for my dearest. (never mind the fact that I already sent one missionary off prior to this one, and would shortly send another off...okay, but I really did like this one best. Until Peter, of course. Who, luckily, I met on the coming home side of his mission, not the leaving.) Okay, where was I? Oh, yes. No boys. Right. Which brings me to the one and only date I had at Ricks College.
Now, I'm a nice girl. I've never said no to a first date. A second maybe, but not a first. So of all the boys I interacted with, which aren't a ton in the Art dept. of an LDS school, I was asked out by a very odd boy. I don't even know his name. But I'll give you the run down.
He was a return Missionary from a French mission. He was at least four inches shorter and 50 lbs lighter than me. He wore thick glasses, a trench coat and had a Star Trek pin on his lapel. He carried, FOR REAL, his Jurassic Park I.D. badge, which "gave him the right to feed the animals." (Oh, heaven help me NOW!) He picked me up, on foot, wearing the trench coat and 'fingerless' gloves.
Let's just say this, luckily - I didn't know anyone at that dance. He only wanted to dance slow dances, didn't talk, and mostly just stood around. At the end of the dance, he quickly walked me home and that was it. I'm not sure I ever even talked to him again. Not out of meanness, just out of awkwardness. And let me clarify, it really was nice of him to ask me out. No one else did, that's for sure. And you gotta hand it too him, it's pretty gutsy to ask out a girl A LOT taller (and bigger) than you. Right?
So, there you are. I thought you all might enjoy a little chuckle from the only date I ever had a Ricks College. Don't worry, I was too busy reading, writing, and dedicating songs to missionaries to really care. (really, someone - hit me!)
Well, what any girl would do, naturally. Move to Idaho.
I went to Ricks College for six months. Summer and Fall of my Sophomore year. I moved in with five other girls, ALL from Idaho. Luckily, my dear friend Anna lived right across the street. I spent most of my days pining away for the one I loved. Oh, I was a mad woman. Checking the mail ten times a day. Swooning over letters. Why would I even look at a member of the other species - heaven forbid! I was a goner. A wreck. And let me just make a formal apology to all roommates Summer and Fall, right here and now. If I were you, I would have punched me.
So my life consisted of letters from said boy - to and from. Missing said boy, crying, whining, and being disgusted by all others and their situations. None were as important as mine. (woof, really - someone put me out of my misery.) My life also consisted of Art Classes, which I LOVED at Ricks. Good times with my Fall roommates. (I can't even tell you the names of the Summer batch. Something like, 'big hair', 'owns too many floral prints', and 'I'm dying to get married at 18'. -I know, I'm mean) I also spent my days at The Ard's, learning my much needed life's lessons. And the rest of the time I spent trying to stay warm. Rexburg is COLD.
So in all of the boy-wahh-ness, I never even talked to another boy. And why would I? The ratio at that time, of girls to boys, was like 3 to 1. And when you factor in That One Girl, the one everyone wants to date, it's more like 30 to 1. So, I was better off waiting patiently (tip my halo here) for my dearest. (never mind the fact that I already sent one missionary off prior to this one, and would shortly send another off...okay, but I really did like this one best. Until Peter, of course. Who, luckily, I met on the coming home side of his mission, not the leaving.) Okay, where was I? Oh, yes. No boys. Right. Which brings me to the one and only date I had at Ricks College.
Now, I'm a nice girl. I've never said no to a first date. A second maybe, but not a first. So of all the boys I interacted with, which aren't a ton in the Art dept. of an LDS school, I was asked out by a very odd boy. I don't even know his name. But I'll give you the run down.
He was a return Missionary from a French mission. He was at least four inches shorter and 50 lbs lighter than me. He wore thick glasses, a trench coat and had a Star Trek pin on his lapel. He carried, FOR REAL, his Jurassic Park I.D. badge, which "gave him the right to feed the animals." (Oh, heaven help me NOW!) He picked me up, on foot, wearing the trench coat and 'fingerless' gloves.
Let's just say this, luckily - I didn't know anyone at that dance. He only wanted to dance slow dances, didn't talk, and mostly just stood around. At the end of the dance, he quickly walked me home and that was it. I'm not sure I ever even talked to him again. Not out of meanness, just out of awkwardness. And let me clarify, it really was nice of him to ask me out. No one else did, that's for sure. And you gotta hand it too him, it's pretty gutsy to ask out a girl A LOT taller (and bigger) than you. Right?
So, there you are. I thought you all might enjoy a little chuckle from the only date I ever had a Ricks College. Don't worry, I was too busy reading, writing, and dedicating songs to missionaries to really care. (really, someone - hit me!)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Nanaimo Bar Goodness
My grandpa Gregson was a Canadian baker. I think a big part of the Gregson's loving treats comes from this. One of the yummy goodies he made are called Nanaimo Bars. Mmmm. We ALL love them! While my dad served his mission in Sweden, my mom got the recipe and sent these little babies across the sea for him to enjoy. To the heart through the stomach, right? I guess so. I made some this weekend and thought you might want the recipe. They are very easy and so rich and indulgent. Enjoy!
Namaimo Bars
Crust:
1/2 c. butter
1/4 c. sugar
5 T. cocoa
2 c. crushed graham crackers
1 c. flaked coconut
1 beaten egg
Melt the first three ingredients, slowly add the egg - a little at a time, so to cook the egg without making scrambled eggs. Mix the wet ingredients with the dry and firmly pack into the bottom of a 9x13 pan. Refrigerate. (add a little extra butter if if seems a bit too dry)
Filling:
1/2 c. butter
3 T. milk
2 T. Birds Custard Powder
2 C. powdered sugar
Cream all ingredients, spread on crust and back into the fridge.
*You can get Birds Custard Powder at most grocery stores. I know Albertson's usually carries it, I most recently got it at Macey's here in Utah. It's in the baking isle, look around the jell-o and pudding area.
Topping:
1/4 c. semi sweet choc chips
1 T. butter
Melt and spread on cooled filling. (I like to double this. More chocolate is always better, right?)
Let these firm up in the fridge for an hour or so. I cut in pretty small pieces. The picture is from a birthday and these are BIG pieces. I've never met someone who doesn't love these.
Give 'em a try!
Monday, September 28, 2009
Babies of All Sorts
We took the kids to see a new baby girl on Friday. Grandma went with us, and the baby was SOOO cute.
She's five or six weeks old and is so full of life. She is curious about everything. I mean, everything! She loves climbing on big round balls, flapping her head against fabric bags, and investigating anything else she can get her hands on. She couldn't hold still for a minute.
Up.
Down.
Up.
What's over here?
What's that over there?
Hmm. Now what?...
And then she'd come to mama for 'boo-boo.' (the Tennis family term for breastfeeding, said in a baby snugglie voice) She just nuzzled right up. "gulp, gulp, gulp" *ahhhh* NEXT. Then the next side. "guzzle, guzzle, guzzle..."
Then - kerplunk -she laid right down and fell asleep. Right on the spot. Just like my babies. I'll bet she had milk dripping at the corners of her mouth, too. I love that.
"Mmm. Nice and full. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Time for a nap." *snoooor*
Really, she was the cutest thing ever. If you haven't guessed yet, this wasn't a human baby - it was the new baby elephant at the Holgo Zoo! Her name is Zuri, but I think I'm going to stick with Baby Ellie and I think she needs a pink bow. Don't you?
Photo courtesy of ksl.com
She's five or six weeks old and is so full of life. She is curious about everything. I mean, everything! She loves climbing on big round balls, flapping her head against fabric bags, and investigating anything else she can get her hands on. She couldn't hold still for a minute.
Up.
Down.
Up.
What's over here?
What's that over there?
Hmm. Now what?...
And then she'd come to mama for 'boo-boo.' (the Tennis family term for breastfeeding, said in a baby snugglie voice) She just nuzzled right up. "gulp, gulp, gulp" *ahhhh* NEXT. Then the next side. "guzzle, guzzle, guzzle..."
Then - kerplunk -she laid right down and fell asleep. Right on the spot. Just like my babies. I'll bet she had milk dripping at the corners of her mouth, too. I love that.
"Mmm. Nice and full. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Time for a nap." *snoooor*
Really, she was the cutest thing ever. If you haven't guessed yet, this wasn't a human baby - it was the new baby elephant at the Holgo Zoo! Her name is Zuri, but I think I'm going to stick with Baby Ellie and I think she needs a pink bow. Don't you?
Photo courtesy of ksl.comI think they should have sent out birth announcements to all zoo members. I know I'd love one. She was 36 inches long and weighed 251 pounds at birth. Just a tiny little thing. (haha) And her mama was pregnant 21 months, poor girl!
There are also three new baby tiger cubs at the zoo - waaaay too cute! A baby snow leopard that I think looks like a build-a-bear, and the sweetest baby giraffe. Our last visit, the beginning of August, the giraffe was brand new and about the height of Samuel. We saw her nurse then, too.
I love seeing mothers and their babies. It truly is what life is about.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Sunday Best?
It's official.
Seriously. I know it's bad, but true.
I think I'm going to have to start wearing make-up. *gasp*
I've wondered for many years now, "when am I going to have to start wearing make-up? Like HAVE to?" See, I don't like it. I don't wear it. And I think I look okay without it.
But sitting in Relief Society this last weekend, looking around, I noticed something. I noticed how nice the ladies in my ward look. Only a few are what I would consider over the top. Most wear just enough make-up, they wear a little jewlery, and look really nice. As I was noticing this, I thought, "I don't think I look this nice."
And then I took note of those who, like me, choose to not wear make-up or jewlery. And. The sad truth is. They looked pret-ty bad. I mean really. I thought, "well, at least I don't look like that."
But friends. I think I may be kidding myself. I think the time has come. If I don't want to be 'one of them' - I think a little more effort is going to have to come forward out of yours truly. But see, I hate how when I kiss my kids with lip stick on - it get's on them. Or when I rub my eyes, I have black eyes. Or how my kids pull at any necklace I wear, or Ruby wants to wear anything I put on. Really. It makes me crazy.
So now what?
I think it's time to buck up. I'm 35 and starting to look like the ward weird-o. So. I am hereby making a new effort. I may even try to get in the shower before 8:40, making it into church by 8:59. That may help, huh?
So, it's out there. I'm going to try to look nicer.
Any tips?
Seriously. I know it's bad, but true.
I think I'm going to have to start wearing make-up. *gasp*
I've wondered for many years now, "when am I going to have to start wearing make-up? Like HAVE to?" See, I don't like it. I don't wear it. And I think I look okay without it.
But sitting in Relief Society this last weekend, looking around, I noticed something. I noticed how nice the ladies in my ward look. Only a few are what I would consider over the top. Most wear just enough make-up, they wear a little jewlery, and look really nice. As I was noticing this, I thought, "I don't think I look this nice."
And then I took note of those who, like me, choose to not wear make-up or jewlery. And. The sad truth is. They looked pret-ty bad. I mean really. I thought, "well, at least I don't look like that."
But friends. I think I may be kidding myself. I think the time has come. If I don't want to be 'one of them' - I think a little more effort is going to have to come forward out of yours truly. But see, I hate how when I kiss my kids with lip stick on - it get's on them. Or when I rub my eyes, I have black eyes. Or how my kids pull at any necklace I wear, or Ruby wants to wear anything I put on. Really. It makes me crazy.
So now what?
I think it's time to buck up. I'm 35 and starting to look like the ward weird-o. So. I am hereby making a new effort. I may even try to get in the shower before 8:40, making it into church by 8:59. That may help, huh?
So, it's out there. I'm going to try to look nicer.
Any tips?
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Letter Blocks
Remember the other day when I thought I'd never see my counter again? Well, this didn't help.
And remember WAY back in July when I spent a whole week cutting wooden blocks for an enrichment project?
And remember my good friend Amy who helped build the coup AND helped cut all those blocks?
Weeelll. She had wanted to make some of the blocks, bought the stuff, but has never gotten around to it. As a Thank You for all of her willingness to give, I finished them for her! (she's not crafty. she hate's crafts, but likes cute things in her house. so don't worry, I didn't spoil all her fun of making them herself)
So, BEFORE the pear incident of 2009, I was doing this for two days. I had to to share them because they are ALL too dang cute! My good friend Tiff cut all the vinyl. If you're interested in doing these yourself (or for an enrichment), let me know. She'll cut, send measurements, and mail them to you. You'll love them. I made some for myself - but not this many!
I know, I know.
And remember WAY back in July when I spent a whole week cutting wooden blocks for an enrichment project?
And remember my good friend Amy who helped build the coup AND helped cut all those blocks?
Weeelll. She had wanted to make some of the blocks, bought the stuff, but has never gotten around to it. As a Thank You for all of her willingness to give, I finished them for her! (she's not crafty. she hate's crafts, but likes cute things in her house. so don't worry, I didn't spoil all her fun of making them herself)
So, BEFORE the pear incident of 2009, I was doing this for two days. I had to to share them because they are ALL too dang cute! My good friend Tiff cut all the vinyl. If you're interested in doing these yourself (or for an enrichment), let me know. She'll cut, send measurements, and mail them to you. You'll love them. I made some for myself - but not this many!
I know, I know.
I went a little overboard.
I LOVE ribbon and paper.
It's an illness.
But aren't they cute? I think so.
It's a tie between Halloween and Spring that I like best. Although the Winter line of paper might be my favorite. (it's a little hard to see in the photo) Choices, choices...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Cluckie Cluck Cluck
I realized I haven't posted a picture of "the girls" lately. So, since you're all dying to see them - TaDa! Here they are.
This is the coup the my friend Amy helped me make. Pretty nice, eh? That's Flora giving you a lovely pose. Say, "Cluck!"
Here they are all on their daily walk-about. I don't let them out for very many hours a day. They are POOP machines! But when they're out they love it!
AND...the most recent exciting event:
This is the coup the my friend Amy helped me make. Pretty nice, eh? That's Flora giving you a lovely pose. Say, "Cluck!"
Here they are all on their daily walk-about. I don't let them out for very many hours a day. They are POOP machines! But when they're out they love it!
AND...the most recent exciting event:
Welcome to womanhood ladies!
Hooray, they are finally laying eggs. Aren't you proud?
I am.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sweet Fruit of the Pear Gods
Nice sippy mixed in with the canning and drying, huh? This tells you how things are going around here. I wasn't sure I'd ever see my counter tops again!
Okay. SO really. Really? After that last post and all of the harvest and what not - would you believe that a very wonderful fruit ferry brought me 100 MORE pounds of pears? Whew!
Yes. It's been another week spent trying to preserve all the sweet goodness of hundreds of perfectly ripe, sweet and delicious fruit. I dried a bunch, canned 20 or so more quarts, and froze a bunch for smoothies later in the year.
I don't think I told you that after all the canning in the past few weeks - my stove died. Like won't turn on, died. (BEFORE all the pears arrived) This put me in a bit of a 'spot' - so to say. Luckily, I live in the land of home canners and preparedness people. My neighbor keeps her camp stove set up in her garage all fall, to keep her canning up as the harvest comes on. So, I used her stove, another neighbors stove AND borrowed a friend of a friends dehydrator. THANK HEAVENS for people willing to share! (BUT, as Sister Ard says, "Every time you let someone else use your things, is one less time you get to use them." Not very nice, but true to some extent. Hooray for people not taking her advice!)
I promise, at least for a week or two, this will be 'it' for fruit.
Only for a week or two?
That's right! Apples are almost on. Apple pie filling and apple sauce will soon be making their way to a jar near you. (or me - and if you're lucky, you'll get some too!)
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Fall Harvest
-39 Quarts of Peaches
-2 Quarts of Pears I know, a little wimpy - they were just an experiment
-4 quarts homemade pasta sauce
-Lot's of frozen grapes
-Tons of frozen peppers
-Yummy green beans
What does all of this domesticity equal?
-A REALLY big mess of my kitchen. I mean, whoa Nellie! My floor is a disaster, there are drips of every color from floor to ceiling. That was 100 pounds of peaches, I'll have you know. I guess not only the kitchen is a mess, but the whole house. Holy Cow! The things we do...
*this is mainly due to the many thanks of our wonderful neighbors. Those amazing people that can actually grow things - Unlike myself - and are willing to share with those less able, like me.
-2 Quarts of Pears I know, a little wimpy - they were just an experiment
-4 quarts homemade pasta sauce
-Lot's of frozen grapes
-Tons of frozen peppers
-Yummy green beans
What does all of this domesticity equal?
-A REALLY big mess of my kitchen. I mean, whoa Nellie! My floor is a disaster, there are drips of every color from floor to ceiling. That was 100 pounds of peaches, I'll have you know. I guess not only the kitchen is a mess, but the whole house. Holy Cow! The things we do...
*this is mainly due to the many thanks of our wonderful neighbors. Those amazing people that can actually grow things - Unlike myself - and are willing to share with those less able, like me.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Super - preschool!
Ruby's preschool theme this year is Super Heroes of the Alphabet. (it's from a really great book, if you haven't read it, you should) So here she is on her first day of preschool, with her super-hero badge of herself.
Things she loves right now:
*pink
*clothes
*princesses
*dresses
*dress-ups
*jewelry
*shoes
*her stuffed dog, Rosebud, that she occasionally calls "sparkles"
*sucking her thumb
*bows in her hair
*any other girl she knows
*waiting for ballet to start
*Sister Warner, her primary teacher
*bossing everyone around
*her Grammy
*pretending to talk on the phone
*cheerios with sugar on them
*preschool
*snuggling with her mom and dad
*some days, her family
*and any other girl thing you can think of
Things she loves right now:*pink
*clothes
*princesses
*dresses
*dress-ups
*jewelry
*shoes
*her stuffed dog, Rosebud, that she occasionally calls "sparkles"
*sucking her thumb
*bows in her hair
*any other girl she knows
*waiting for ballet to start
*Sister Warner, her primary teacher
*bossing everyone around
*her Grammy
*pretending to talk on the phone
*cheerios with sugar on them
*preschool
*snuggling with her mom and dad
*some days, her family
*and any other girl thing you can think of
Friday, September 11, 2009
Matters Into My Own Hands
Before the 'updating' of the Big Blue House, I lost my ipod. My 'ipod touch' that I really, really love! At first I thought I'd find it. Be patient, I told myself. But after several months, I was getting really mad. So I took matters into my own hands.
I decided to dung this place out. And I mean, really get to business.
So I went about this process like we were moving. (did I say I like to move? I think I like to throw things out - that's why I like to move) Anyway, I went through every square inch of this place.
I even found myself doing a little of this.
"This" is what my grandma does. When she would come to our house when I was growing up, by the end of day one, our kitchen counter was full of things looking much like the above photo. Only it was usually items from the fridge. Bottles stacked on bottles of ketchup, mustard, BBQ sauce and the like.
This is how serious I got. I am combining lotions and aloe vera gel. (who knew I even had more than one aloe vera gel?) Anywho - this is just to prove the seriousness of my business. And I do mean business.
I unloaded every drawer, took the bottoms off my couches, cleaned every nook and crannie of the car. You name it, I cleaned it!
NO IPOD!
Argggghhhh!!
There is, however, one place that is off limits to me. It's called, "Peter's Drawer." It's his drawer where everything goes. It is overflowing like you've never seen. And this, of course, is blamed on me. "Well, if you wouldn't put everything in there, it wouldn't be so full." Says The Scoutmaster. "Well, if you would clean it out, just once in a while, it wouldn't be so awful." Says, I.
I think you may underestimate how messy this thing is. Let me demonstrate. Underneath his drawer is a nice big pot and pan drawer. I regularly have to pull tid bits of mail and what not out of my pots, before I can use them. It seriously overflows into the drawers below. See? Messy!
But I am NOT allowed to touch it. No CLEANING!!! Fine. Good by me. But..."Is my ipod in your drawer?" "No. Of course not. Why would it be in there?" "Have you even looked?" I ask. "It's not in there." He says.
Months! And I mean MONTHS, go by. He's even having to help me take the house apart to find this thing! "Maybe it was stolen" says he...
Then one day. THEN ONE DAY!!! I think to myself, while Peter's not home, I haven't looked through his drawer. I bet it's in there.
Two digs deep, and there it is! And the titanic, every plane lost in the Bermuda Triangle, the eighth wonder of the world and every thing you've ever lost in your life - right there in The Scoutmasters Drawer! TA DA!!!!
Don't worry. I phoned immediately. "Guess what? I found my ipod!" "Where?!" He asked so excited for me. "IN YOUR DRAWER!!" I roar! "What? No way. I looked. One of the kids must have put it in there or something." *chagrin*
Yeah right!
"I think it's time to clean out your drawer, don't you?..." "Yeah, I think it might be."
But, just the other day, I saw him look for something and when he was done, it was like shoving the bowling ball back in the tornado of the hall closet. Carefully placing each piece of junk, shove just right, tuck here, push there.....close it! And run!
I think it's just about time to take matters into my own hands. How about you?
I decided to dung this place out. And I mean, really get to business.
So I went about this process like we were moving. (did I say I like to move? I think I like to throw things out - that's why I like to move) Anyway, I went through every square inch of this place.
I even found myself doing a little of this."This" is what my grandma does. When she would come to our house when I was growing up, by the end of day one, our kitchen counter was full of things looking much like the above photo. Only it was usually items from the fridge. Bottles stacked on bottles of ketchup, mustard, BBQ sauce and the like.
This is how serious I got. I am combining lotions and aloe vera gel. (who knew I even had more than one aloe vera gel?) Anywho - this is just to prove the seriousness of my business. And I do mean business.
I unloaded every drawer, took the bottoms off my couches, cleaned every nook and crannie of the car. You name it, I cleaned it!
NO IPOD!
Argggghhhh!!
There is, however, one place that is off limits to me. It's called, "Peter's Drawer." It's his drawer where everything goes. It is overflowing like you've never seen. And this, of course, is blamed on me. "Well, if you wouldn't put everything in there, it wouldn't be so full." Says The Scoutmaster. "Well, if you would clean it out, just once in a while, it wouldn't be so awful." Says, I.
I think you may underestimate how messy this thing is. Let me demonstrate. Underneath his drawer is a nice big pot and pan drawer. I regularly have to pull tid bits of mail and what not out of my pots, before I can use them. It seriously overflows into the drawers below. See? Messy!
But I am NOT allowed to touch it. No CLEANING!!! Fine. Good by me. But..."Is my ipod in your drawer?" "No. Of course not. Why would it be in there?" "Have you even looked?" I ask. "It's not in there." He says.
Months! And I mean MONTHS, go by. He's even having to help me take the house apart to find this thing! "Maybe it was stolen" says he...
Then one day. THEN ONE DAY!!! I think to myself, while Peter's not home, I haven't looked through his drawer. I bet it's in there.
Two digs deep, and there it is! And the titanic, every plane lost in the Bermuda Triangle, the eighth wonder of the world and every thing you've ever lost in your life - right there in The Scoutmasters Drawer! TA DA!!!!
Don't worry. I phoned immediately. "Guess what? I found my ipod!" "Where?!" He asked so excited for me. "IN YOUR DRAWER!!" I roar! "What? No way. I looked. One of the kids must have put it in there or something." *chagrin*
Yeah right!
"I think it's time to clean out your drawer, don't you?..." "Yeah, I think it might be."
But, just the other day, I saw him look for something and when he was done, it was like shoving the bowling ball back in the tornado of the hall closet. Carefully placing each piece of junk, shove just right, tuck here, push there.....close it! And run!
I think it's just about time to take matters into my own hands. How about you?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Do-overs
What's this? Photos? Yep.
Remember many moons ago when I decided to do some updating around the house? Like, so many months ago, I can hardly count? Well, most of these things have been done since the beginning of summer - but I haven't posted any of them. (remember? camera troubles...) So, here is a little taste of some of the things done around the Big Blue House this last summer.
I made four window cornices (I have NO idea how to spell that). They are made from wood frames I made, covered with batting and fabric. Hung on L-hooks. They were beastly. Everything I have made or done, were from things I had already. I bought nothing new. Let's not forget though - I practically own my own fabric store. *cringe*
Remember many moons ago when I decided to do some updating around the house? Like, so many months ago, I can hardly count? Well, most of these things have been done since the beginning of summer - but I haven't posted any of them. (remember? camera troubles...) So, here is a little taste of some of the things done around the Big Blue House this last summer.
I made four window cornices (I have NO idea how to spell that). They are made from wood frames I made, covered with batting and fabric. Hung on L-hooks. They were beastly. Everything I have made or done, were from things I had already. I bought nothing new. Let's not forget though - I practically own my own fabric store. *cringe*
This table used to belong to my parents. When they owned it, my mom asked me to paint it for her. It has been tucked away in a corner of my house for three years now, and after selling our kitchen table of 13 years, we decided to use this as our main meeting point in the house.
Here is the wall that you once saw the beginnings of. The picture in the middle is copy of a magazine cover from the early 1900's. It's called "farewell to summer" and the original copy has hung in Peter's parents house for more than 40 years. I've always loved it, and I had copies made this summer when we were home. I made new pillows and curtains for this room, as well.
I know every Mormon house has a wall similar to this. So here's ours.
And this is the kitchen wall. I took most of the photos myself, except for the pieces of artwork purchased at Pike Place Market. It's a little tribute to fresh flowers, produce and the Pacific Northwest.
So, there you are. I did a little work in our bedroom. Made new curtains for the boys. And a few little other things here and there. Over all I am pretty happy with it. Somethings I have to not look at, because they didn't turn out just right and they bug me. Ever happen to you?
This is the longest we've ever lived anywhere, and I think I like to move. So if you can't move, then I guess liven things up. Right?
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