Would You Remember?

If you were a pre-teen boy who had had his video game-playing privileges revoked and the gaming systems removed from the house on numerous occasions--once for 18 months--would you remember the rules when the game systems were reinstalled? I'm just asking.

Sorry!

One of the highlights of Rachelle's year is playing Sorry! with Uncle David during the holidays. Rachelle and Uncle David are the two regular participants. The other two vary from year to year. Mark and Candace were the other opponents last evening.

Part of the fun is watching Uncle David's antics. Sometimes a pocket knife is involved. Other times he may sit atop the dining room table while playing. Banter, taunts, mild "threats," heckling and the like are part of the competition. Most of the time, Uncle David loses despite his very best, competitive efforts to win. Last night, he won. He celebrated with a victory dance.

The "G" Family

We recently got together with our good friends and former neighbors, the "G" family--parents John and Cindy, and kids Andrew, Jennifer and Jessica. We've shared many fun and not-so-fun times (like our mutual lice experience) over the years. Sara and Jessica once got into mischief that involved the police.

Rachelle and Jennifer still "hang out" whenever they get the chance and remain very close friends.

Whenever I tell Zach that I'm visiting with his "best friend," he'll ask, "Cindy?" Cindy and I used to swap babysitting. She'd watch Sara and Zachary one day a week while I ran errands, and I watched Jessica another day while she did the same. Zach felt like their home was his home and would often walk into their house and announce, "Cindy, I'm home!" Other times he would sneak in unannounced. He enjoyed playing video games with DooDoo (Andrew). He once had a belching contest with John.

Cindy and I visited Andrew and Annica's fourth grade classroom (with preschoolers Jessica and Sara in tow) while the students were very quitely busy with a Halloween activity. Sara loudly proclaimed, "I love you, Andrew!"

Jessica is studying at a beauty school and needs practice cutting hair. Mark was a willing subject. Here is the "after" picture.

We love this family, but don't get to see them often enough. Cindy currently lives and works in Doha, Qatar and comes home every 12 weeks or so.

Unique Prayer Request

I have said and listened to thousands upon thousands of prayers in my 50 years, but never have I heard this prayer request until last night: "Please bless me that water won't seep into my shoes from the bottom and get my feet wet; and please bless me that my shoes will get better traction." Amen!

Participial Phrases

Another day, another homework battle at our house. Of course, I'm referring to Mark. Who else would it be? Tonight's first subject was Humanities. The assignment was to write participial phrases. Instead of the assignment at hand, there was stalling, begging for TV (it helps you think, you know), whining, fiddling around . . . you name it.

Finally, Mark admitted to needing help. "I can't think of any participial phrases."

I could think of plenty:
*Punishing your son
*Taking privileges away
*Whining all the time
*Throwing a tantrum
*Spanking my son's bottom (just kidding, of course)
*Going to your room
*Missing out on Christmas gifts
*Acting like an infant
*Failing this assignment
*Shortening your mother's life

Should I Do It?

Many people have told me that I "should write a book." Not just any book, mind you. A book filled with anecdotes about my children--actually, one child in particular. I could do that. People might even buy it.

What I really should do is to write a book that includes anecdotes about all of my children. However, my offspring would be embarrassed, to say the least, to read what I wrote about them. Some of the stories would be stranger than fiction. Trust me.

I toy with the idea of writing the book under an assumed name and changing the names of my kids to "protect the innocent" (or the "guilty" as the case may be).

(One chapter could be about the essays some of my darlings have written. Just tonight, one youngish boy of mine wrote a paragraph about how seeing things burn gives him a calm, tranquil feeling. I'm a little worried that, should an arson occur close to our home, my boy might be considered a "person of interest.")

Back to the subject at hand: should I write the book?

Food for Thought

Upon emerging from the shower, Mark announced: "While showering, a thought came to me: why do our stomachs heal faster than our skin? What causes it? How can we incorporate the healing properties of our stomach into our skin?"

Perhaps he has a career in medical research in his future.

Hello, Cousin!!

Sadie is Rachelle's 6-year-old yellow Labrador Retriever. Max is Annica and Josh's 10-month-old Olde English Bulldogge. Therefore, Sadie and Max are "cousins." They hadn't met until early Thanksgiving morning when Max arrived with Annica and Josh.

Since Sadie's mom (aka Rachelle) wasn't here to help with the introduction, she gave us very specific instructions as to how the two should meet. Annica and Josh were to alert us (which they did) when they were in a few yards of our house. Lance was to (which he did) take Sadie into the backyard. Annica and Josh were to lead Max on his leash (which they did) into the backyard and allow Sadie to sniff Max. (Due to the sensitive natures of some of my readers, I will not mention any of the "sniffing" details. You're welcome.)

Rachelle plead with the nervous grandmother (aka Me) to stay upstairs so as not to influence the dogs with her anxious vibes. The nervous grandmother complied with her wishes. Nervous Grandmother envisioned a raucous session of barking, chasing, nipping and growling. None of her worries materialized.

The dogs were quite civil to each other. Since this all took place at 3:30 am, the tired humans (especially Josh and Annica who had traveled all night) opted to crate both dogs and retire for the remainder of the "night."

The photos above were taken a few hours after the initial meeting. As you can see, there was chasing, more sniffing, and a little bit of barking and growling. All in all, Nervous Grandmother was very pleasantly surprised at how the dogs interacted with each other. If only all people of the world could cooperate like Max and Sadie, the canine cousins!

Will Work for Food

I suppose it's no secret to my friends that I bribe my children. I don't really like to call it bribery; instead, I prefer to label it "motivation." My kids are motivated by food. Let's say that I want Mark to do his homework. He doesn't. Here's a typical conversation:

Me: "I have to run errands."

Mark: "Will you get me a 'Hearty Bowl' at Jack in the Box?"

Me: "I'll call you on my way home and see if your homework is done. If it is, I may get a Hearty Bowl for you."

I run errands. I call home. Fifty-percent of the time, the homework is done and I visit Jack. That leaves the other 50% of the time where I return home empty-handed to a cranky boy. Too bad, so sad.

So, Mark is motivated by JITB Hearty Bowls. And eggnog (with Sprite). Those are his current favorites. My other kids (at least the ones who currently reside with us) are motivated by:

SARA: guacamole and bacon and fries
ZACHARY: Jamba Juice

What will YOU work for?

Striking Feature

Me: "Who taught your Spanish class today since your teacher was sick?"

Mark: "A person with painted-on eyebrows."

I'm So Worried

"You realize this is going on your permanent record, Mom," is what I was told after I issued this ultimatum: "Either do your homework or go to bed."

Living With ADD/ADHD

For quite some time, I've intended to write about what it's like to live with ADD/ADHD. (Some members of my family are blessed with this "condition.) I keep getting distracted, though. I'll begin now. Oops! I gotta get the milk out of the milk box. Bye!

Perception is Reality

Because I am an imperfect parent, my children have accused me of many things over the years. I don't listen. I spoil one child (or another) more than others. I don't make so-and-so do as many chores. I allowed others more privileges. I spent more money on the other children. I never keep my promises. I didn't properly warn of consequences. I let one particular child do something I didn't allow the other children to do. I give longer back rubs to another child. I didn't take as many pictures of one child as I did of the others. I delayed seeking treatment for a child's vision problems. I could go on ad nauseam, but I don't want to further depress myself.

I try to listen to each complaint leveled against me and jog the recesses of my memory to see if I'm guilty of the accusations. Perhaps, sometimes I am. I think, however, most of the time I am not. I have learned, though, that no amount of reasoning or explaining convinces the accuser of their errant thinking. To them (and probably to most of us), perception is reality. They really believe they are justified in their accusations.

I must admit that I was dumbfounded when Sara, the 19.5-year-old, accused me of NEVER buying her her very own Barbie. WHAT?!?!?!? For years, we seemed to have a house full of Barbies, Barbie clothes, Barbie furniture, and Barbie accessories. Barbie shoes were everywhere. Lance even built a sturdy, wooden, large Barbie house for the girls. Grandma Markie made lovely Barbie beds. I simply refused to believe that I never bought a Barbie for Sara.

Upon further questioning, Sara admitted that if I actually had bought her a Barbie, I took it away before she was old enough to play with it. Further, we expunged all traces of Barbie from the house during Sara's formative years. How could we be such callous, uncaring parents? What emotional scars we must have caused our precious princess! I am horrified!!!

Today, I did the only thing I could think to do to atone for my grevious sin: I bought Sara a Barbie. Her face just lit up when I gave it to her. She carefully removed the packaging and freed Barbie from her plastic restraints. Lovingly, she stroked Barbie's "stiff" hair. "Her hair needs to be washed, Mom."

Imagine Sara's glee when I said, "She's yours to do whatever you want with her. If you want to mar her face with permanent marker, you may. You may even cut her hair. You're free to do with her whatever makes you happy."

Happiness is knowing that for at least today, I made one child happy.

Goodbye, Al Capone!

Had I remembered to photograph him last night, I would have posted a picture of Al Capone (aka Mark) today. It's too late for that, however, as Al Capone's costume is in our garbage receptacle at the curb awaiting trash pick-up tomorrow. The costume is ruined.

All week long Mark pleaded with me to get an Al Capone costume for him. He wanted to dress up for school Friday and for Halloween. I procrastinated, explaining, "When you get caught up on your homework, I will get the costume." The "witching hour" approached and I thought I was off the hook. Thirty minutes before store closing Thursday night, he met his goal.

I headed to the store to play the perennial game "Compete for Last-minute Costumes." I scanned the costume displays and found several Al Capone get-ups. Not a one was Mark's size. Should I get a men's medium (too big) or a boys' medium (too small)? Since the men's was $10 more than the boys', I bought the boys'. It was a risk I was willing to take even knowing the costume was unreturnable.

Back at home, Mark tried on the costume and was pleased as punch even though it was quite small. He couldn't raise his arms above chest level. The bottom of the pants was about 6 inches above his ankles. He looked like a gangly gangster, but a cute one. The white knee-high socks, black dress shoes and black fedora completed the outfit. He wore the outfit to school Friday. (I was afraid that he would rip the seat of his pants if he bent over.)

After class, Zachary and Mark raced to the car to claim the front seat. In their rush, Zach accidentally tripped Mark sending him sprawling on the sidewalk. The pinstripe gangster pants were ripped at the knee and bloodied by the knee wound. Both hands were scraped as well. Through his tears and after a scolding of his brother, Mark forgave Zachary but was devastated that his costume was "ruined." I assured him that the costume could be repaired, but he was unconvinced. It took some explaining to get him to have hope that the costume could be worn again.

Yesterday Mark had more homework to complete, and he asked if I would repair the tear in his costume. Sounding like a broken record, I again said, "I will do it after you finish your homework." Realizing that his fate was in my hands, he sewed the hole closed himself. However, he wasn't allowed to trick-or-treat until the homework was done. He got a late start and finished quickly, getting just enough candy to barely satisfy him. He then attended a party with Lance and me.

Somehow during the course of the evening, the repaired knee hole became unrepaired and grew larger. His costume met a fate similar to one many of Mark's other clothes met over the years--very large, unexplanable holes appeared out of nowhere rendering the clothing beyond repair. The costume was discarded and just memories are left. There are no pictures.

Lost It

How do you respond to a child who announces, "I've lost my work ethic?"

My creative juices are running on empty, so I'm open to any and all suggestions.

Ado Annie

If you're familiar with the musical Oklahoma!, then you know that Ado Annie is the girl who "caint say no." Ado Annie 2.0 lives at our house, but she answers to the name of "Sara." She has gotten herself into a "terrible fix" or two because of her inability to reject undesirable would-be suitors. These gentlemen catch her in a moment of weakness--while she's eating unaccompanied.


The first "fix" occurred over a year ago. Sara was employed at a local craft store and often lunched at a sushi restaurant. As she got into the car one day after work, she announced, "It seems like I have a date with a Guatemalan waiter." The waiter's English was incomprehensible, but that didn't matter. Sara is fluent in Spanish. She didn't want to go out with the waiter, but she didn't know how to respond to his request for a date and her phone number. "It was the only thing I could think to do," was her explanation when I asked why she had accepted his invitation and given him her number.


On her cell phone, she recorded a message in Spanish to the waiter telling him she "couldn't" go out with him. He called her 26 times attempting to reach her. He finally gave up. Sara hasn't returned to that sushi restaurant even though she loves sushi.


The second "fix" occurred last week. Tuesdays are long days for Sara as she stays at school from 8:30 am until 5:10 pm. She finds some place to eat dinner and then walks to her Institute of Religion class (7:00 to 8:30 pm) across the street from the college. She's eaten at Dairy Queen the last two weeks. The first week, she apparently caught the eye of a male employee there. The next week, the guy (who Sara estimates to be about 25 years old) was just getting off work when Sara arrived. He sat by her as she ate and they ended up talking for 2 hours. Guess what? He asked for her phone number. Guess what else? She gave it to him. "It was the only thing I could think to do," she again told me.


Mr. DQ has called Sara 4 times and she hasn't answered because she hasn't been near her phone when he's called. Not to worry, though, because Mr. DQ hasn't given up. He called our home phone last night. Sara told him that it wasn't "a good time to talk." I suspect he will call again.


Mark said that she should have given him "the telephone number to the Rejection Hotline."


The other night, Sara and I stopped at another eating establishment to pick up dinner for the rest of the family. She asked, "You're not going to leave me here alone, are you?"

In a related situation, Sara met one of Rachelle's former would-be suitors at her religion class. Rachelle had no trouble giving him the shaft, but Sara wasn't quite as assertive. Now another guy has Sara's number.


I think some assertiveness training is in order for our Ado Annie. Either that or she needs to give out the number to the Rejection Hotline.

New Shoes or A Hearty Bowl

This is for you, Susan:

BACKGROUND INFORMATION, SECTION 1: Mark's latest food addiction is a Jack in the Box "hearty bowl." I've never tasted one, but it looks like a mixture of "hashbrowns," bacon, sausage, cream sauce and cheese. Mark likes his sans cream sauce and cheese. I can get him to do almost anything (except maybe homework) for a hearty bowl. If I'm running errands and Lance is home supervising homework, I will often phone home to see if Mark is engaged in a productive activity (i.e. doing homework). If he is, I'll usually stop by JITB and purchase a hearty bowl to take home. My reward is a hug, a kiss and a flowery expression of gratitude.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION, SECTION 2: The shoelaces broke in Mark's shoes that I purchased a month or so ago. They were elasticized laces and "worked" differently than normal ones. Mark was convinced that the shoes could no longer be worn and has begged for new shoes for several days. Lance tried to convince him that he didn't need new shoes, just new laces. Mark disagreed. He tried to win me over to seeing the shoe situation his way.

During my errand-running this afternoon, I called home to check on things ("things" meaning whether or not homework was being done). Mark asked if I planned to purchase new shoes for him and if I would get him a hearty bowl. When I mentioned that I was only going to buy laces instead of shoes unless he had the money to buy shoes, he replied, "Okay, you can just get me the laces. Will you still get me a hearty bowl, though?"

I returned home with shoelaces and hearty bowls (1 for Mark and 1 for Zach). I'm a good mom--today.

Anything for Money

Lance and I were apartment managers in Mountain View, California the first year of Annica's life. We lived in kind of a rough neighborhood where drug deals and episodes of domestic violence were common. In fact, Lance, at my insistence, knocked on our upstairs neighbor's door and interrupted a drug bust. (Of course, I didn't KNOW a drug bust was taking place. I had just seen the paramedics haul someone out to the ambulance from that apartment, and I asked Lance to check on those tenants.) The police thought Lance had come to buy drugs. We reported a domestic violence situation to the police when we heard our next-door neighbors violently fighting and throwing furniture.

Needless to say, baby Annica and I didn't venture outside our apartment too often unless we were accompanied by others. We tended to occupy ourselves by playing with toys, reading books and listening to music in our little apartment. I also stayed busy with apartment complex paperwork, showing apartments, tending to the pool and being on cockroach watch. (Our roach motels had many occupants. "They check in, but they never check out.")

Another one of my diversions was watching television. I became addicted to "Leave it to Beaver" reruns. I rarely missed an episode of that show. I liked it so much that I decided to have my own version of Eddie Haskell. But, I digress. The other television show that captured my attention was "Anything for Money." The aim of the show was to get unsuspecting people to become involved in strange pranks/scenarios for as little money as possible. Of course, the people had no idea they were being "played" as the scenarios were, in most cases, cleverly disguised as real-life situations. Seriously, though, who could possibly think that climbing into a barrel to exchange clothes with a mostly-naked man could be a true, real-life situation?

I was completely fascinated to see how many people would do just about anything (i.e. swallow a live goldfish, allow themselves to be wrapped in aluminum foil and be rotisseried on top of a car, break up with a stranger's "girlfriend," etc.) for just a few dollars. The amount paid for each prank ranged from $10 to over $100.

The show didn't stay on the air for very long, but it's impact on me has been long-lasting. Every time I learn of a shady politician, a cheat or thief, someone being willing to pose for a pornographic magazine or an individual who tries to monetarily capitalize on their "15 minutes of fame" (and the list goes on), I think of that show. Yes, it's true--many people would do just about anything for money.

Altered State

Our usual morning routine consists of me driving Zachary to Seminary and then an hour later Lance taking Mark up to the church where they pick Zachary and two other girls up and drive them 6 miles to school. I transport Sara to school in Bellevue.

This morning our routine was altered because Lance taught Seminary. I had to take Mark up to the church to meet Lance, Zachary and the girls afterward. When we arrived at the church, Lance and company were waiting for Mark in the car.

Mark asked me, "Are you ready for the transfer of hostages?"

Animal Farm

I've never read George Orwell's Animal Farm. I have, however, read books about animal farms. And several books just about animals. I wouldn't consider myself an "animal" person, but animal behavior fascinates me. One might think that because I've read so many animal tales that I would be tempted to add more animals to our one-animal house. Not so. I don't ever picture myself owning a bird, cat or other domesticated animal besides our dog, Sadie. I don't even plan to get a "replacement" dog when Sadie no longer resides with us. She is daughter Rachelle's dog, you see.

Here, before your eyes, is a fairly comprehensive list of the animal books that I have read. I highly recommend most of them:

Marley and Me
Modoc (claims to be a true story, but I have my doubts; also a little graphic on several levels)
Enslaved by Ducks
The Parrot Who Owns Me
The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill
The Rhino with the Glue-On Shoes
All Things Bright and Beautiful
Homer's Odyssey
Wesley the Owl
The Zookeeper's Wife (not so much a book about animals as it is about WWII)

Quick Thinker

8TH-GRADE BOY TO MARK: "You're a 'sevvie.' How's school going?"

MARK (face expressionless as he's had less-than-desirable interactions with "upperclassmen"): "Fine."

8TH-GRADE BOY: "The look on your face tells me that you want to punch me in the face or kick me in the stomach. If you do that, I'll stir-fry you in my wok."

MARK: "You don't have a wok."

8TH-GRADE BOY (pointing to his backpack): "Portable wok."

MARK (pointing to his lunch sack): "Portable Doberman."

Slipping in the Polls

For the past several years (12, I'd say), I have been ranked #1 in the Most Favored Parent Poll. When I checked the rankings today, I had slipped to #2. I guess I can't hope to be #1 forever. I think it was the homework battle that knocked me down. I have faith that one day I can rise in favor and ranking again. Until then . . . I'm #2.

The Big Squeeze

"Does it hurt?" a 41-year-old woman asked me as she entered the Overlake Breast Center waiting room where I sat next in line for my mammogram.

I was obviously looking only at her eyes when I answered, "It doesn't hurt, but it is a little uncomfortable. You don't hear any screaming in here, do you? I imagine it would hurt someone who was large-busted, though."

"I'm a double D," she replied.

So much for setting her mind at ease. Instead of my comment making her contemplative, she opened up to me in a way few other total strangers have done. In the few minutes we were together, donned in our "open-in-the-front" hospital gowns, I learned that she:
*Has a 19-year-old daughter.
*Was never married to her daughter's father.
*Is being "dumped" by said man this week.
*Gave birth underwater assisted by a midwife.
*Was treated very roughly and rudely by a male doctor during a cervical biopsy.
*Screamed and cried during and after the procedure.
*Threatened the aforementioned doctor.
*Was congratulated by the assisting nurse after threatening the doctor.

I was escorted to another room for my procedure. When I was finished, I gave a "thumbs-up" sign to my new friend as I walked by her in the waiting room.

I wonder if men have the same types of conversations or bond in the same way we women do while waiting together for medical tests. I doubt it.

It Pays to Read the Instructions

The look on Mark's face said that last night's math homework assignment would not be easy. Based on past experience with him, I doubted I would enjoy it either. Mark was faced with a double-sided page of 88 multiplication problems like 804,365 times 3,288.

We had a little "pep talk" and I promised Mark that I would give him a little break each time he finished 10 problems. After the first set of ten, he jogged to and from the stop sign at the end of the street and then did 120 sit-ups. This system worked fairly well, and then I left to attend my book club. Lance took over.

A couple of hours into our book club meeting, I received a phone call from Mark. He was distraught. It seems that while looking at Mark's paper, Lance noticed the instructions written in large print at the top of the page: "Do the problem numbers that are multiples of 4." Mark had needlessly completed 53 extra problems. He was neither happy nor amused. I tried to help him see the positive side--he got lots of extra math practice. He didn't seem consoled, but had calmed down by the time I arrived home about 30 minutes after our conversation.

We sent him to bed even though he still had 5 of the hardest problems to work. He still wasn't finished when he left for school. Hopefully, we've all learned a lesson: read the instructions BEFORE starting the assignment.

C.O.P.

Rest assured, I didn't get arrested. C.O.P. stands for Change Of Plans. Who's plans? Sara's plans. Here's the scoop.

Sara was all set to go to Germany. Her plane ticket was procured. (This involved a painful process that had us cashing in some of our precious "frequent flyer" miles. Then we learned that we needed to change the ticket as the final destination was the wrong city. A bit of miscommunication there. We had to pay an additional $189.70 to switch the ticket.) Items were purchased that she needed/wanted to take with her. Suitcases were in position to be packed. Etc.

A couple of days ago (Monday to be exact) Sara received an email from the German lady who was employing her. It seems that said lady thought Sara wouldn't be a good fit for the family as she questioned Sara's honesty about procuring the airplane ticket. There were a few other issues, and the lady "revealed" that they still had an au pair in their employ who was to remain with them until January. This little fact was unknown to us prior to Monday.

Sara replied to the email and cleared up any issues the lady had about her. It seems that she had a change of heart and sent Sara another message stating that they were grateful for her "honesty" and Sara was still welcome in their home on a "trial basis" to see if she and their family would be a "good fit." Details were outlined for various scenarios based on fit with the family.

After a lot of thought and prayer, Sara decided yesterday to decline the offer and stay put. She's planning to enroll in Bellevue College. Fall quarter begins Sept. 21. I.K.Y.P. (I'll keep you posted.) Oh, and, by the way, we had to pay another $150 to get the frequent flyer miles added back into our account.

Island Girls

Fittingly, Rachelle and I hopped on a ferry and spent Friday in Friday Harbor. We also drove around the entire perimeter of San Juan Island and stopped at several places along the way. It was her "final summer fling" before returning to college next week. (Sara was invited to join us but she didn't feel well that day.) We had lots of FUN!

Leaving on a Jet Plane

My baby daughter, Sara, is leaving the nest and flying out into the world to seek her fortune. She departs September 9 for Cologne, Germany and will be employed as an au pair for 3 children. Her commitment is for one year. I'm just sure I'll have to visit her at least once while she's there. Then, as long as I'm in Germany, I might as well travel the rest of the European continent and re-visit places I first saw almost 30 years ago. It just wouldn't be fair to Sara if I only visited my Idaho-residing daughters and not her.

Recent Book Purchases

Compare Lance's most recent book purchases to mine:

LANCE'S: Principles of Air Conditioning; Strategic Intuition; The Art of What Works
MINE: Modoc: The True Story of the World's Greatest Elephant; The Rhino with Glue-on Shoes; Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science

"Anniversary" Trip

Due to a variety of circumstances, what was supposed to be our 25th wedding anniversary trip turned out to be a solo vacation for me. Not to worry, though; our marriage is still very much intact and all is well. Our real anniversary trip has been postponed and will occur eventually.

While I vacationed, Lance slaved at home on my anniversary gift--a tiled bathroom floor. (It looks great and is a wonderful gift!)

I, on the other hand, had lots of fun, and have the pictures to prove it. (Warning: the words "visit" and "visited" and synonyms will be way over-used in this post.)

The trip started off a little rocky. No sooner had I checked my baggage and headed for the security check-point, than I realized I left my cell phone in our car. I found a pay phone but had no change, so I had to charge a call on my Visa and call my phone. Poor Lance was half-way home, but he willingly turned around and delivered my phone to me. Fortunately, I still had plenty of time to make my flight.

My parents transported me from the airport to their house where my ghetto mobile (multi-colored, dented Ford Windstar) was waiting for me to drive to Rexburg. Annica, Josh and Max (the Olde English Bulldogge puppy) were my first hosts. They planned a day trip and we went to Yellowstone--one of my most favorite places. The cool, rainy weather was a nice change from the 100+ degree temperatures I left behind in Washington.

After two+ great days with Annica and Josh, I returned to Utah for the duration of my vacation. Monday I had a craving for (which I always do when I'm in Utah) for Arctic Circle fries, fry sauce and a lime rickey. Of course, my parents indulged me. After filling our bellies on that, plus a bunless junior bacon burger, we visited my Uncle Ray who was a hospital patient. He had fallen, broken his hip and shattered his elbow. We then visited Aunt Helen and cousin Peggy at their home.

I realized I didn't have my own photos of the homes I lived in in Clearfield or the elementary school I attended there, so we went there and I took pictures. My old neighborhood (where I lived until age 9) has fallen into a state of dishevelment, sadly. Monday evening, brothers Blake and Chad and their families along with Melanie's family joined us for a family dinner at our parents' home. We ate, took pictures and chatted. Some of my nephews willingly hugged me. Some hugged me but not so willingly.

The following day was spent with my sister. She and I, along with my sister-in-law Cindy, saw the movie Julie and Julia. I also accompanied my new step-nephews to one of their schools where we tested one nephew's locker combination. It's been many, many years since I've worked a school locker combination. That afternoon I hung out at an auto repair shop while they inspected my van because I suspected an oil leak and smelled a funny odor. Fortunately, no car problems were found, and I left the shop with all of my money in my purse. Sister Melanie spoiled me with a yummy gluten-free dinner she prepared, and the boys and I had some more bonding time.

My parents picked me up early Wednesday morning and we traveled to Manti to attend my cousin Sadie's wedding at the Manti Temple. Beautiful wedding, beautiful day. Lots of relatives on hand to make me feel like I was attending a family reunion. I arrived back at my sister's home just in time to assemble the dinner she had prepared the night before. After the boys went to bed, Melanie insisted that I join her in her scrapbook/card-making/craft room to make a card. I resisted but she persisted, and I came home with one lovely, home-made card made partially by me.

The following morning I drove north to Alpine and went to breakfast with sister-in-law Cindy, nephew Noah and niece Makenzie. Nephews Preston and Jake were awake when we returned so I had a little fun with them. Jake will finally let me hug him, though he's not so willing to do it. Cindy took me to a craft warehouse sale and I bought some good, very inexpensive stuff. So much stuff that I had to send a box to myself at home because I couldn't transport it all on the plane. That afternoon I went to the BYU campus and walked around the bookstore. I got rid of a little more money there, and met former roommate and friend LaNae. We had a nice, little chat and laughed together like we always do. I realized I didn't have the proper attire to wear to Sadie's wedding reception that evening, so I had to make a quick stop at a store and buy a skirt. I was even bold and ask the saleslady to steam the wrinkles out of it which she gladly did. (At least she seemed like she was glad to do it.) Next, I drove up to friend Elain's house and had a great visit with her. I don't often get together with her, so it's good to see her when I can.

I met my parents at a restaurant for dinner. Superwoman-like, I took my new skirt into the bathroom and emerged in wedding reception attire. After an unintended detour, we finally found the site of the reception. Again, more relatives and chatting. Too bad we spent money at a restaurant. We could have had a nice dinner at the reception. My parents got in their car and I got in my ghetto-mobile and we ended up at their house where I spent the next 3 nights.

I was a little lazy Friday morning and puttered around in my pjs for quite a while. After a yummy lunch of garden-fresh beets, new potatoes, corn on the cob, and steak, we visited cousin Bethany and her little "doodles" (boys Kyle and Carter) at their new home. Then I visited another friend Jana (my friend since 5th grade). Although it was hard to talk over the constant yapping of her guard dog/teacup poodle, Tinkerbell, we had a very nice, fun visit, as always. (It's hard to remember why I once owned and loved poodles so much.) That evening my mom and I watched one of my favorite movies, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.

Saturday my parents treated me to a very delicious, very filling, very pleasant, gluten-free, halibut au gratin lunch at Taggart's Grill in Weber Canyon. It was fun to eat and watch peacocks strolling past the window at the same time. Lovely lunch in a lovely setting. It was the only restaurant I've ever dined at that had a "rattlesnakes in the area" warning sign posted on their entrance. We visited brother Chad and family at their home just a short drive from the restaurant. We were still too full to eat any dinner that night, but not too full to share one of the flourless chocolate cakes we bought at Taggart's.

I flew home Sunday and was grateful that the lady who was very sick and coughed her lungs out on my flight to Salt Lake City wasn't on my return flight. Now I'm home and preparing for a young women's retreat this weekend. I love vacations!

Opposites Attract

Today is our 25th wedding anniversary. I'm married to a most remarkable man. We have so many things in common: love for each other, love for our children, love for children in general, both first-born children, both wear orthotics and glasses, both have strong testimonies and love the Lord, both most comfortable in jeans, neither is a "cat" person, both enjoy travel (but have "never been to Spain"), both football fans, etc. We also differ in many, many ways. Fortunately, we celebrate our differences and appreciate each other. Here's a sampling of how we differ:

Lance (hereafter referred to as "L"): still has his real, natural hair color
Natalie (hereafter referred to as "N"): has fake "natural" hair color

L: practically perfect in every way
N: not so much

L: vanilla is his flavor of choice
N: prefers chocolate

L: doesn't like nuts in food
N: the nuttier the food, the better

L: calm, cool, collected
N: worrier extraordinaire

L: risk-taker
N: play-it-safer

L: Mexican food lover
N: seafood lover

L: prefers games of strategy
N: prefers word games

L: computer expert
N: computer illiterate (mostly)

L: spicy food lover
N: mild food lover

L: sports participant
N: sports spectator

L: great dancer
N: has two left feet

N: remembers names, birthdates, phone numbers, song lyrics, trivia
L: brain doesn't store that information ("Why do you wear your bra so low?")

L: prefers action movies
N: prefers comedies and romances

L: navigates by following maps
N: navigates by reading written directions

L: good driver
N: much better driver (uses turn signals and can talk and drive simultaneously)

L: uses cruise control
N: prefers to control the vehicle herself

L: loves to hike and "rough it"
N: likes being a pampered camper (i.e. running water and electricity)

L: has wide feet and hands
N: has narrow feet and hands

L: soccer player
N: piano player

L: likes a few vegetables (gags on beets and dislikes asparagus)
N: likes most vegetables (especially beets, asparagus, zucchini)

Happy anniversary to the most patient, loving man alive--Lance!!!

UPS Delivery

My friend, the UPS man, delivered our air-conditioner today. Soon I will be a much cooler person in every way! Thanks, Papa!

How to Be Cool

When a heat wave strikes your area, you want to make sure you can keep cool. It's really hard to stay cool in the house when it's 107 degrees outside and you have no air-conditioning. You can try the following suggestions--all have been tested. I cannot guarantee their effectiveness, because many weren't and the ones that were tended to be expensive.

*Don't cook.
*Buy prepared, convenience foods.
*Eat "out." (Can be expensive especially if you do it continually. Duh.)
*Hang out in air-conditioned stores and establishments. (Also can be expensive if you're tempted to shop.)
*Go to the movie theater. (Also can be expensive if you watch movies, buy popcorn, etc.)
*Search stores for fans and air-conditioners. (My search was unproductive as every store was sold out.)
*Keep the windows and curtains/blinds closed especially when the temperature outside gets as hot as the temperature inside your home.
*Run the stove hood fan continuously.
*Wet down the concrete surrounding your house. (Surprisingly, this is mildly effective.)
*Sit in front of the fan (when it's on, of course).
*Stay hydrated.
*Apply cold, wet compresses to your neck and head.
*Find lots of errands to run in your air-conditioned vehicle. (Be careful that your car doesn't overheat. They're sensitive to heat also, surprisingly.)
*Visit a friend who has air-conditioning.

But the most effective way to keep cool when all else fails:
*Call your parents who live out-of-state, whine about the heat and share your plight. They will come to your rescue, buy you an air-conditioner (at 40% off, too, because they live in an area where nearly all homes have air-conditioning), and ship it to you ASAP. They will do this because they love you and even though they've begged you for years to purchase air-conditioning.

Free as a Bird

Last night while we were eating our pizza dinner in the front yard, a bird flew into our storm door. Literally. It slammed into the glass and fell onto the cement porch right behind where I sat. It sat dazed and confused until it hopped with its limp wing onto the grass where it remained in the same spot until Sara rescued it.

We were all concerned about the tiny creature. Would it live? Would it recover in time to fly away before it became a cat's meal?

Sara lined a shoe box with a washcloth, tissue, and cotton balls. She placed food scraps and a small container of water in the box. She easily caught the bird with her bare hands and took it to its new temporary home/hospital in the box atop her dresser. We all resumed our normal activities.

When Sara checked on the bird later, the shoe box was empty. A thorough check of her room provided no clues. The family was alerted, and everyone searched. No luck. I had visions of a bird landing on my face while I was sleeping. Not a pleasant thought.

Everyone headed to bed except me because I had to take a cool shower so I could sleep better in the 90-degree house temperature. As I was drying off, I heard Lance shout, "I found the bird!" It seems that the little fowl found its way to our bedroom window and hid behind my newly-sewn curtains. Lance saw it as it flew to the top of our door. Obviously, the bird was well enough to fly.

Lance caught the bird in the shoe box, and much to Sara's dismay, took it outside to release it. Would it survive? Sara's mind was eased when the bird climbed onto Lance's finger and flew up into the cherry tree.

Despite the heat, I slept better than I would have had the bird still been loose in our house.

AN AMMENDMENT, WRITTEN BY LANCE:
Actually, Natalie failed to mention that I instructed Sara to *not* bring the bird in the house. Despite that instruction, the female "motherly-care" instinct prevailed and a shoebox was obtained for a mini-bird-Hilton experience. I would say hospital, however, Sara found every type of food that the bird might like and put it in there along with water and soft cushion material as well. Later in the day, Sara came to me with a quizzical expression on her face. "Did you release the bird?", she asked. The bird had evidently checked out of the bird-Hilton and didn't notify management. Later after I had caught the bird flying around in our bedroom (note: no living animals were harmed in this exercise), and had taken the bird outside, Sara and I had an exchange that went something like this:

me: "OK, I'm going to release the bird" (I take the lid off the bird-Hilton shoebox).

sara: (pointing at the fact that the bird is still crouched down in the corner of his/her luxurious bird-hilton suite) "Look, it's afraid. I'll put holes in the lid and we can take it back inside."

me: "No! The bird is fine, it flew around our bedroom" (I set the box on the ground and slightly tip it so that the bird must leave the presidential bird-Hilton suite. The bird jumps to my finger, and then flies to a nearby tree. In the process of tipping the box so the bird will leave, the bird buffet spills around the box leaving food and water all over.)

sara: "You've ruined the box".

There are lessons here …

X-BOX Withdrawal

"I'm going through withdrawal from X-Box," reported Mark. (Lance and I temporarily removed all video-game systems from our home.)

"What are your symptoms," I asked.

"Upset stomach, light-headedness, loss of interest, shorter attention span, depression," Mark answered.

Yes, he's got it bad. There may be no cure.

Mr. Observant

"Looks like you have a lot of dishes to do tonight, Mom," Mark announced as he was eating his late bedtime snack.

I gave him the "evil eye," and he continued, "I'm just stating a simple fact."

As he reached to put a dish towel on the removable metal towel rack, he said, "Oh, this thing needs to be cleaned, too."

My reply was, "When you see something that needs to be done, it's a good idea to just do it yourself instead of announcing that a job needs to be done and then walking away."

His answer: "Yes, I could do that unless I see something and say, 'This needs to be welded.'"

He cleaned the towel rack, placed it back on the cabinet door and left the kitchen.

I have a lot of dishes to do tonight.

Bathroom Call

I was downstairs yesterday afternoon when I answered a phone call from Zachary.

"Hi, Mom. This is Zach. I'm in the bathroom. Could you bring me a towel?" he asked.

A word to the wise: always take your cellphone with you into the bathroom in case you are caught without a towel after showering.

No pictures will be posted.

I Recommend . . .

If you're going to "do" Disneyland and/or San Diego, here are a few of my favorite rides/attractions/hotels, etc. I've also tossed in a couple of things/establishments that I do not recommend. This is free advice.

RECOMMENDATIONS/FAVORITES:
*Disneyland fireworks ("When You Wish Upon A Star") through August. Position yourself on Main Street.
*Pirates of the Caribbean (my favorite ride), Splash Mountain, Matterhorn, Soaring Over California, Grizzly River Rapids, Haunted Mansion
*Castle Inn and Suites (on Harbor Blvd. within short walking distance to the Disney parks)
*Check at the Disneyland main entrance for a list of menu items that are designed for those with food allergies and sensitivities.
*Bring your own water to the park. And plenty of snacks.
*Buy souvenirs at the END of the day.
*New Orleans Square (my favorite area in Disneyland).
*Get "fast passes."
*Wear lots of sunscreen and a hat.
*BYOB (bring your own Band-aids).
*Comfortable shoes are a MUST!
*Hampton Inn on Pacific Highway in downtown San Diego!!! (Great rates and just across from the harbor)
*If you request a non-smoking room at a Best Western Inn, be sure to check the room before you pay.
*Use your AAA card whenever and wherever you can. (At Disneyland, you must purchase at least a 3-day Park Hopper pass in order to receive a discount.)
*Whole Foods catering service.
*Make sure your camera is in working order.
*Get to Disneyland early in the morning!

DO NOT RECOMMEND:
*Gluten-free hot dog and hamburger buns in Disney restaurants
*The famed El Indio restaurant on India Street in San Diego. (The Food Network was wrong!)
*Counting on Motel 6 to supply you with shampoo and/or conditioner and/or a hair blow-dryer.
*Leaving the interior lights on in your car overnight.
*Getting a hotel that is right next to the train tracks (unless it is Hampton Inn in San Diego).
*Waiting until late evening to enter Fantasyland.
*Riding dizzying rides if you're prone to dizziness or motion sickness.

A Most Unusual Gift

Today my mother received the gift I mailed to her--an envelope full of Zachary's shorn, curly locks. For years Mom has envied Zachary's hair and has frequently expressed her desire to "have" his hair. Well, now she has it. I saved nearly every bit of the hair I cut from Zach's head last week, sealed it in a Ziploc sandwich bag and mailed it off.

The hair has already been put to use. Dad fashioned it in to a mustache. I hope he posts pictures.

It Pays to Know History

On our last morning in San Diego, Lance went to the San Diego Temple with his brother Lane and sister Laurel. Cindy (Lane's wife) and I took our kids for a short walk to see the ships docked in the harbor. The oldest 5 wanted to tour the ships, boats and Russian submarine, so we paid the steep admission and the rest of us (Cindy, 11-year-old Noah, 7-year-old Makenzie and I) waited on the sidewalk while the 5 toured the boats.

A cleverly-costumed and lovely female docent approached our small "captive" audience and began a conversation with us. Actually, docent Anne conversed mostly with Noah. Noah knew nearly every answer to every question Anne asked him. Not only did Noah know the correct answers, he expounded on his knowledge. Anne was impressed. Heck, I was impressed! Anne complimented him and said that most 8th-graders don't know the information 5th-grade Noah knows. This only increased Noah's confidence and he became even more engaged in the conversation.

About an hour into the docent-Noah interaction, a male docent showed up and joined the fun. Docent Al, too, was impressed. He presented Noah with a gold-plated coin replica. Then Anne asked Cindy if she could borrow Noah, and she took him aboard the Star of India (the oldest active sailing vessel in the world). Soon Anne collected Cindy and Makenzie to board the ship. Then it was my turn.

Cindy, Noah and Makenzie (along with a few others) helped hoist the main sail while I snapped away with my trusty digital camera. Somehow, our other 5 kids showed up along with Lane and Lance, and all but Lance boarded the Star of India with us. (Lance had to keep our van running because the battery had just been jump-started. That, of course, is another story. Plus he had to rent a projector for the night's slide show.)

Al and Anne spent the next hour and a half with just us giving us a private informational tour and a history of the boat. In the bilge, the kids even got to slide into the belly of the boat on a board attached to a track. Mark and Noah took turns sword-fighting with Al. Turns out, Al was an extra and a production assistant on the movie Master and Commander. He let the kids hold Russell Crowe's "real" sword. All the kids got the special coins. We were treated like celebrities. Both docents were quick to point out that the reason for our special treatment was that Noah knew history.

This is a story for our family history book.

A California Adventure

We're back from our California Adventure/Delano family reunion in Anaheim and San Diego. A marvelous time was had by all most of the time. The highlight of the trip was spending time with Lance's parents, siblings, and siblings' families. Sara's feet will recover from the beating they took, and Zachary will recover from the flu-like illness he contracted the last day we were there. Once I think of a clever way to document our trip, I'll share it with you. Stay tuned.

No Longer Elementary

Mark graduated from elementary school today. Here are a few pictures taken at the "promotion ceremony." Photo 1: with the great Mr. Mahendran, teacher extraordinaire; Photo 2: with Principal Livingston, I presume; Photo 3: proudly displaying his certificate (notice it's upside down); Photo 4: with his school class.

Our Belle, Rachelle

Rachelle, my belle,
You're really "swell."
And this I know--
I love you so.

You're kind and sweet,
And can't be beat
At giving hugs
And nice back rubs.

Let's shout, "Hooray!"
It's your birthday.
Have lots of fun
Till day is done.

We'll think of you
The whole day through.
"Happy birthday!"
Now, go and play!

The Graduate

Sara graduated from International Community School yesterday. We're proud of and happy for her.

My Man's Day

Sir Lancelot, my knight in shining armor, is celebrating his birthday today. He is a very youthful 52 years old. Despite living with me for nearly 25 years, he hardly has any gray hair. I love him so very, very much and want to tell the world he is an amazing husband, father, friend. Happy birthday, Lance!!!

A Double Mix-up

Tuesday nights are "take-out" nights at our house. Sara has singing lessons in Woodinville at 5:00 pm and, since I'm her chauffeur, I take her. We're gone from 4:40 until 6:20. I wish I could say that I prepared a nice make-ahead meal every Tuesday morning, but I can't say it because I don't do it. I take the easy way out and get some sort of take-out food while we're in Woodinville.

Tonight we got our food from Taco Time where we are regulars. I ordered 2 crisp beef tacos without cheese, 8 regular crisp beef tacos and 2 large orders of Mexi Fries. Pretty straightforward and cheap. My order totalled just over $12. When we were about a mile from home Sara asked, "How many tacos did you order? There are only 3 in the bag. Did you get another bag?" No wonder I thought they were cheap. I only got 3 tacos plus the Mexi Fries.

Since there is also a Taco Time in our town, I dropped Sara off at home and headed to our local Taco Time to purchase more tacos. I placed my order and pulled up to the window to pay and get my food.

"That'll be $1.49," announced the cashier as she handed me a small bag.

"For 8 crisp beef tacos?" I asked.

"Oh, I thought you said 'a crisp beef taco!'" was her reply.

I asked her for 7 more, paid for all 8 and left with a small and large bag of tacos. I guess I need to work on my number enunciation.

An Unusual Morning

I have no pictures of my morning adventures, so you'll just have to settle for the verbal description. Our morning routine was altered due to a variety of circumstances. Lance had to leave home at 7:00 am to attend a campaign kick-off breakfast, which meant that I was the designated morning chauffeur.

I didn't feel well, so I got out of bed at the last possible minute, which meant that I didn't shower and get dressed before I set off. In the first hour and a half I was "up," I drove 14 miles in my pajamas, saw a man get hand-cuffed, and (only a few of you will appreciate this), while looking at the "META4" license plate of the car in front of me, heard the word "metaphor" sung in a song I was listening to.

These unusual events will never be repeated in the same morning, I'm certain.

The Family Lodge

Check out this photo of our family lodge in Idaho. This structure used to be a 2-story garage/chicken coop, and my dad turned it in to a lodge with the help of a few other relatives. It's the place we hold our family reunions in the summer and we love to stay there. It's surrounded by rolling hills and farm land.

A Feat Never Before Attempted

Now that I'm almost 50, I think I'm old enough to try to upload a photo and post it on my blog. I've been taught, so let's see if I can do this by myself. If this works, you might see a whole host of pictures on this site.

These are photos taken today of my adventure to Farrell-McWhirter Park with my little buddy Tyler. Tyler and baby pigs--how much cuteness can you stand?

Dad Chad

Ode to My F-I-L

My husband's dad
Is Grandpa Chad.
He's always glad
And never mad.

Today's "his" day,
So shout "Hooray!"
It's time to say,
"Happy Birthday!"

We love you, Grandpa Chad!

Warranty Expiring?

Ever notice how your car starts to fall apart the day after your warranty expires? Do the car manufacturers somehow plan for this and build it into the car's computer system? I wonder.

Well, I'm approaching my 50th birthday and beginning to wonder if my "warranty" is just about up. Allow me to explain. I contracted some sort of annoying cough several weeks ago--just after I "recovered" from a regular cold. Ticklish and scratchy throat. I coughed and coughed for a couple of weeks but didn't feel sick at all. Then last Thursday night--the night I picked Lance up from the airport after he spent the better part of the week in Southern California and I had to play the roles of both parents (a job I don't relish)--I started to feel sick. I was awake most of the night coughing my lungs out. At least it felt like I would cough up my lungs. Friday morning I felt better--well enough to walk my short route with Jeanne and Tyler. Monday night brought a more expanded set of symptoms including a fever, fatigue and a horribly runny, stuffy nose. Did I have swine flu?

Of course I didn't go to the doctor because I rarely do. Lance visited a doctor and was diagnosed with "community pneumonia." I'll get well riding his coattails, I reason. Sara's chronic state of ill health was entering an acute phase, and Zachary was still taking the antiobiotic the allergist prescribed for his sinus infection. I drank a lot of herbal tea sweetened with liberal amounts of honey and became addicted to a new kind of lozenge--Hall's Naturals (the honey-filled peach-flavored ones are as good or better than candy).

During the past few days, a host of other (some seemingly-unrelated) symptoms have cropped up. While sitting in the chair watching one of "my" reality TV shoes, I shifted my leg and heard a pop in my right knee. No swelling, but a lot of pain. The pain has mostly subsided thanks to my trusty Phiten titanium disc patches. I developed a massive headache from coughing and blowing my nose way too much. I can't lift my left arm above shoulder level without the top of my arm aching. My left hip is causing me some pain (a chronic problem). My sternum hurts (probably from coughing too much). Yesterday morning I awoke with conjunctivitis in both eyes. There are other issues as well, but I'll spare you the details.

Does my body know I'm approaching the magic age of 50? Am I crossing the line into old age? I guess I'll just have to break out the t-shirt I bought for myself that reminds me: "You can only be young once, but you can be immature forever." At least I can remain immature as long as I wish!

A Birthday for BooBah!

My eldest daughter has now caught up to my age; we're both 24! It honestly seems like just a year or two ago when I really was that age. Funny thing is that at 24 we are/were both working in health-related careers. Annica works in a hospital, and I worked for the Utah Department of Health.


Annica has brought us much joy over the years and has developed into a beautiful young woman. She came into the world with a very independent spirit and has always seemed very confident and secure in who she is. Entertaining herself and others came naturally to her.


The summer Zachary was born, Annica organized a summer school for the neighborhood children. She formed lesson plans, and made bathroom "passes," lunch tickets and the like. When I voiced some concern about which areas of the house she would use for her school, she said, "I'll just use the whole upstairs and the family room, and you and Zachary can stay in the downstairs bedroom." She never did carry out her plan, but sure had a good time organizing everything.

Annica had an active imagination and was and is very artistic and creative. Unlike most other young children, she never drew "stick" figures. One of the first pictures she drew was of someone getting a haircut. She drew the person with a tiny pair of scissors on each strand of hair.

She expressed her creativity in other ways as well. She and friend Noelle tried to find a more efficient way to use the bathroom, so they experimented with a way that involved neither removing nor pulling down any item of clothing. They both ended up wet. And smelly.

Annica used to make lists of goals and aspirations. One of her goals was "to not go through labor giving birth." We'll see if she reaches that goal.

This lovely daughter makes friends very easily. She's very personable and potential employers like her. That's why she's been hired for almost every job she's ever applied for.

She used to be terrified of dogs. Really terrified. Really, really terrified. Obviously, she's overcome much of her fear because she now has her own dog to care for and love.

She is married to a wonderful guy, Josh, who takes very good care of her. They make a great team, and we love them both. They help each other in so many ways and work at making a happy life for themselves.

Happy birthday, my sweet daughter. I love you so very much!!!

Happy Mothers Day!

From me to my mama:
I have a mother
Like no other.
This much I know--
I love her so!

From Mark to me:
I have a mother
Like no other,
And I really, really love her.
Sometimes she's glad,
And sometimes she's sad,
But today is Mothers Day,
So I'll try not to be bad.

From me to my mother-in-law:
You raised a great son.
He's my Number One.
You're a marvelous gal
And even my pal!

Mark "accidentally" ate the rest of my chocolate candy bar I was given in church. To assuage his guilt, he gave me all of his money which consists of $23. I told him to keep the money (and the chocolate).

Mark's Philosophies of Life

*"If you want to find true happiness, don't try and find it through money. Try and find it through the simple things."
*"Finding peace involves serving others."
*"Don't gamble with your life along with your money."
*"Invest in things you know will succeed and not in things that you don't."
*"Learn from failure. Take joy in success."
*"If you don't like someone, don't be with them."
*"Instead of finding the bad things in a person, why not find the good things."
*"If there's a rule you don't like, then don't be in that game."
*"Obedience can save you from trouble in the darkest times."
*"Work hard on something that is worth working hard on."
*"Love equals joy. Joy equals happiness. Happiness equals success."
*"Show a little anger, but don't let it all out."
*"If you feel like you're about to burst then put yourself in a container."
*"Smile!"

Buy One, Break Some Free

During my grocery shopping excursion yesterday, I noticed a display of a new kind of salad dressing--miso salad dressing to be exact. Since my friend Jeanne raved about her Miso Seafood Salad at CPK last week, I decided to surprise her with a bottle of the miso dressing. As I lifted one bottle off the shelf, the entire shelf collapsed spilling every single glass bottle onto the floor. Several bottles shattered and splattered my shoes with the yellow fragrant dressing. The accident was loud and embarrassing. The incident occurred next to the in-store pharmacy, and a male pharmacy technician rushed to my aide carrying a plethora of paper towels. As I reached for the paper towels and bent to wipe my shoes and the floor, the technician said that he would clean it up and asked me to not move so he could wipe any glass shards off my feet. There were no glass shards, but there was a lot of dressing. If Jeanne likes the dressing, she'll have to shop elsewhere to find another bottle as I broke every bottle in sight.

Birthday Baby

Today is the day my baby boy turns 12 years old. (The exact time of his birth was at 9:35 pm, so he has a few hours to go before he really is 12.) I know he has been the subject of many blog posts, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make him the focus of this birthday blog. Here are just a few of his witty sayings that I can remember:

*"I love hard, manual labor." (Yah, right!)
*"Mom, I'm going to really miss you when you're dead and visit your grave every day."
*"Did the Holy Ghost tell you who started it?"
*"It wasn't me!"
*"I love you more than the white hot intensity of a thousand suns." (quoting SpongeBob)
*"I have a tenderloin, too."
*"I will not go to first grade if my teacher is ugly."
*"My mom already said a prayer for me and it didn't work."
*"Do you want to be a horrifying mother or a normal mother?"
*"Please bless me and make hair grow in my armpits." (in a prayer at age 6)
*"Please give my compliments to the chef." (to a waitress at age 7)

Happy, happy birthday, Mark!!!

A Tender Mercy

I try to be grateful for the "little" things in my life and to notice "tender mercies." I try to instill in my children that same sense of gratitude for those little things and tender mercies. Last evening as he was heading for bed, Mark noted (with a smile on his face as he spoke): "Well, today passed without incident." Yes, it was "incident" free--at least where Mark was concerned. It has not always been the case, but today it was. And I'm grateful.

This Week in 25 Words or Less

Kids ill
Lance traveled
Sunshine, warmth
Dog escaped
WASL testing
Rachelle resumed college
Mark's "dog" report
Amazing chocolate coconut gluten-free cupcakes
Must plant garden!

Bad Eggs, Dirty Water and Inventive Son

BAD EGGS:
Sara noticed an unpleasant odor emanating from a certain spot at the end of her bed. Since she has a difficult time maintaining a spotlessly clean room, I suggested that she look for some uneaten food she may have left in a lunch bag. Then I went to bed. Shortly after midnight I heard gagging and coughing noises coming from downstairs. It seems that the ever-curious Sara "sniffed out" the problem and discovered it to be Ukranian eggs she designed at January's Art Day at her school. Her curiosity got the best of her, so she cracked open the eggs and "black goo" oozed out. The smell was "the most awful smell" she'd ever experienced which sent her into fits of gagging and coughing. She couldn't re-enter her room, so she spent the night downstairs in the vacant bedroom. Maybe her room will get a cleaning after all.

DIRTY WATER:
Did you know that if you call the Public Works Department in our city after hours you get to chat with a police dispatcher? That's what happened last night. I noticed that our toilet water was dirty even after I flushed it several times. We compared the tap water to the toilet water and there was little or no difference. Disgusting!!! I checked the water in our other toilet and it was the same brownish-yellow color. I called our next-door neighbors and their water was similar to ours. My next call was to Public Works/Police. The dispatcher paged the someone from Public Works and we got a call from a city worker a few minutes later. They'd received a similar call from another resident one street up from us. The worker couldn't explain our problem and said he'd come out to investigate this morning. He also said that he thought our water was probably safe to drink and that some sediment may have gotten into the water supply. I hope our water returns to its "normal" state and color today.

INVENTIVE SON:
Two days ago Mark got a sudden-onset sore throat. He told me he couldn't talk--at all. So, as necessity is the mother of invention, Mark navigated to his new favorite website (www.expressivo.com) and let the computer talk to me. It nearly drove me nuts. When I asked Mark a question or tried to get him to respond to something I said, a few seconds elapsed (while he was typing his response) and I heard a computer-generated reply. Sore throat or not, Mark's dad put an end to that form of communication when he arrived home from work.

The Latest Rage at Our House

Sara and Mark recently discovered the following website and are nuts about it. You might become hooked yourself:

www.expressivo.com

Express yourself!

Princess of the Nut Tree Farm

Our "baby" girl is 19 today! It seems like just a few months ago when we welcomed our dark-haired, brown-eyed (or hazel-eyed as she claims), beautiful Sara into the world. After being the parents to two very colicky girls, we were ready for a calmer baby, and we got her. Sara has spent the last 19 years amazing and amusing us. Here are a few of our favorite Sara anecdotes.


*When Lance noticed spider legs protruding from Sara's 18-month-old mouth, he ordered, "Spit!" She produced the spider in her dad's palm and proudly claimed, "I eat the itsy, itsy 'pider, Daddy!"


*Not content to go through life with no middle name, she created her own--or series of them: Nightingale Captain Rose Amelia Isabella Lance Myrna Teddy Roosevelt Franklin Roosevelt. Her 2nd grade teacher actually believed that we had given Sara all of those nicknames.


*One day when she was about 4 years old, Sara bolted out of the house and took off running down the street. She didn't stop when I called to her; in fact, she picked up speed. Still I called after her. She stopped at the stop sign at the end of the street and returned home. When I asked her why she hadn't obeyed me, she replied, "I was just having a race with myself to see which foot would finish first."


*A "stranger" rang our doorbell one evening. Rather than answering the door, I opened the living room window and asked the man what he wanted. He answered, "I'm employed by the County, and I'm here to license your pets." I assured him that we had no pets, and he started to walk away. Sara called out to him, "She says she doesn't have any pets, but she does!" We had 2 goldfish.


*When her younger brother Zachary was born, three-year-old Sara started acting up and bugging the baby and me at every turn. Grandma was here to help and she tried to distract and dissuade Sara to no avail. On one particularly trying afternoon, Grandma again tried to stop Sara's antics and announced, "I'm going to win this battle." Sara emphatically retorted, "No, you're not! I'M going to win this battle!" Despite a rocky start to their relationship, Sara and Zachary are the best of friends.


*Sara is multi-talented, very intelligent and uber-creative. She excels in learning languages (Spanish, Japanese), art, singing, sewing, test-taking, writing, cartooning--just to name a few of her talents. She's also quite perceptive.


Happy, happy birthday, my ladybug!!!