Welcome Winter

We finally got our first snow. I love it.
If you click on the first picture, you can see the most beautiful glint of sunlight on the top of the tree branch.

Get back with me in three days when I'm taking pictures of brown slush and raw fingers.

Dontcha Know I Love You, Sweet Sadie...

So I had this little reality slap last week. The harsh truth of the aging process was thrown right at me. Observe this picture:


This is my college roommate and BFF Tiffany. She is one in a million. Here you can see Brandi, Tiffany and me. One of us is in labor. Two of us are there to lend moral support and possibly catch a flying newborn. Ah, good times. Good times.

This was my first experience with childbirth, and it was eye-opening to say the least. Wow. I can't believe I went on to have any of my own. Tiff was great though, and her beautiful daughter Sadie was born that day. That day was twelve years ago. TWELVE YEARS, people!

Wasn't she a gorgeous little newborn? I was quite the midwife. I stood there and stared at my poor exposed friend and thought HOLY CRAP, THAT MUST HURT LIKE HELL. I vaguely remember Tiff screaming at me not to look anymore, maybe she was afraid I was going to pass out.
So a few months down the road, Tiff was ready to start back to school. She needed a babysitter. I was up for the job. Or so I thought. What I really was up for was a total wardrobe and hair makeover, but that's another story in and of itself.

So I got to babysit the cutest little thing on earth. And Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln, that child could scream! My starkest memory is still being in sweatpants in the middle of the day, and wanting to take a shower and "do my hair" (we see how that worked out for me). I had to sit Sadie on the floor of the bathroom, and I kept sticking my head out the shower curtain saying, "Hey! Could you please stop screaming?" She didn't obey. Obviously I wasn't really ready for parenthood. Maybe not even really ready for babysitting.

Here is Sadie, a few years later, holding my newborn. Oh, my SCREAMING newborn. I guess they all do that. Who knew! Thanks for breaking me in, little girl.

Sadie is now twelve. She is absolutely stunning. She is athletic and smart; she sings, travels, and makes killer Valentine cards. She lives with her mom and dad and now has three siblings. I don't offer to babysit any of them, because Sadie broke me.

I can't believe she is twelve. Those years flew by literally in the blink of an eye. I also can't believe her mom used an upside down five instead of a two on her birthday burrito.

I love you Sadie!! I'm so proud of you and love hearing about all of your accomplishments. Happy Birthday!!

Clarity

We have an extremely talented congregation when it comes to music in my church. Today the choir gave their Christmas program, and it was something else. It was very emotional for me, probably for a lot of reasons. The first reason is likely because I chose to wear a full face of makeup today, so Murphy's law would require me to cry excessively and ruin it.

But there are other, less shallow reasons as well.

As you may or may not know, both my husband and I have just finished fairly intense legal negotiations with our ex-spouses. It has been an exhausting and seemingly endless process. There was a lot of negativity on everyone's part, and that is very draining. I think we have these ideals of how we hope everything can be... people working together to do what's best for our children; putting past issues in the past; open communication. These things do not often happen, and it can be discouraging.

I am also afraid I may have reinjured my back sometime in the past couple of days. This, to me, is terrifying. When my pain was at its worst about a year and a half ago, I could only crawl for the first hour or two of every day. It was pathetic, intense, and very depressing. I was on a lot of medication, which really screwed with my system (oxycontin, anyone?). I found my limitations to be more than my active self could stand. Not to sound dramatic here, but regaining normalcy felt like a miracle to me. When I felt some of this pain resurface this weekend, it really scared me, because I do not want to go through that whole process again.

All things considered, I have felt a little stressed out lately. But today in church, our choir sang a song called "And His Name Shall Be Called Wonderful". Their voices were so beautiful, and the message of the song was so touching to me, that I literally felt those burdens lifted from my heart. I don't have experiences like this very often. So when I have them, they are precious to me. The song says,
Unto us on this holy night

Unto us beneath a new star's light

Unto us where the lambs have fed

Gently laid in a manger bed

Unto us a child is born

Unto us a son is given

And his name shall be called Wonderful

For the world will be healed by his power

He will be our unfailing Counselor

In each uncertain hour

Those last lines touched me the most. He will be our unfailing Counselor in each uncertain hour. My hours of uncertainty have been many, and my need for counsel has been great. But so often I have not sought Him whose counsel would most guide me. I understand that a mere belief in God and Christ will not give me a life void of trial. But my ability to rise above those trials is so clearly tied into the level of faith I maintain; why is that so difficult at times to remember and apply?

I am thankful that the Lord is keenly aware of me. He knows my fears, my struggles, and the things that make my heart hurt. And today, for a brief moment, they were all removed and there was a simple yet powerful peace in their place. It's as if I had the clarity of eternity; of understanding that these things really don't matter in the long run. They are a part of my life, and they probably won't just go away. But the birth of a baby- a simple birth which brought us the Savior of the world, gave to me an unfailing Counselor for those uncertain hours. What a blessing; what a reason to give thanks.

I Cannot Go To School Today, Said Little Peggy Ann McKay

So. Here I am, home sick. Couldn't go in to work today because I am probably contagious. And unlike some supermoms named Martha who can still accomplish the extraordinary while violently ill, I become a useless mass of nothing. Observe with me the anatomy of my sickroom:

1. Extra comforter. Key component in my attempt to "sweat it out".

2. Laptop. If I'm not leaving bed all day, I gotta have something to do.

3. Sucrets. As my adoring husband so kindly pointed out this morning, those are not actually breath mints, and I may want to consider adding some to my side table.

4. Water: I'm flushing my system. Only it seems to be missing the key area of my sinus cavities.

5. Nasal Four: The spray that keeps me among the living. Literally. I refuse to breathe through my mouth. I find it repulsive, plus it hurts my throat. However, my nose will not actually perform that function for me at this point in time, so I have to coax it along with some decongestant spray.

6. Kleenex: I asked my husband if he could sneak away for lunch today. He said yes. I said, "That's great, because I'm almost out of Kleenex. I'd like you to stop at the store and pick me up some Puffs with Vicks Vapor in them. Thanks." He's such a lamb.

7. Theraflu Warming Relief, Orange Flavor: Dose it up, baby! I just keep a little shotglass on the nightstand. Watch out for the worm.

8. Cell Phone: People like me to call when I'm sick. They like to hear all about it. Especially my husband. Actually, he prefers I call, even when he's in the living room... that way he can avoid my sinus/sucret breath.

9. Bath and Body Works Softest Robe Ever: I'm considering wearing it down to the mailbox to send my Christmas cards today. I can't take it off. It's like a second skin.

10. Extra Pillow: Propping up assists with drainage. This is important. Also, I can type better if I'm propped up.

NOT PICTURED:

-My Vicks Warm Mist Vaporizer. A good cleansing steam contributes to the flushing out process.

-My Vicks Vaporub Mentholatum: I put some on last night, my husband pointed out that it was sort of the antithesis of the Almond Vanilla Warming Massage Oil. He then pointed out that the use of Vaporub was a good indicator that we would be going straight to bed. Sorry to disappoint, my love. Vaporub = no lovn tonight.

So there you have it. I sent my kids off to school today, and I am comfortably quarantined in my sick bay. I think I'll take a nap now.

Riddle Me This...

So. This is me. Laying on the couch, feeling pretty proud of myself. I went to the gym today. My super amazing husband got me a membership for our anniversary this month. I've been dying to go, but as I've mentioned ad nauseum, I have back problems. So I quit exercising about 2 years ago when they first began. The back problems have more or less subsided, however the exercise has not resumed. Sure we did some biking and hiking this year, but I'm talking regularly scheduled body-toning, firming, sculpting, shaping, cardio-enhancing exercise. You know the kind of which I speak. The kind where you don't have to wait for the kids to catch up. The kind where you can put on your Ludacris and not worry you won't hear if a kid falls off the bike, or worse yet... off the mountain. Uninterrupted, unadulterated, self-serving exercise.
OH how I love it!!!

However... there is something that needs discussing. I may be a weirdo, but I have serious issues with locker room exposure. My husband showers daily with other men. It doesn't phase any of them in the slightest. I find it completely bizarre. Let me clarify that by saying after they do PT, the cadre all shower in the same locker room. He doesn't just randomly shower with men for fun. Hmmm... This is going nowhere really fast. Back to the topic at hand...
The women's locker room. I like my body. I do. There are a few things I would tweak here or there, but over all, I'm very satisfied with things. But I do not want other people looking at me in my underwear, or worse yet, out of my underwear. But I have this theory that I am the only one on earth who feels that way. Or at least certainly the only one in the locker room. I have to go into the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, there is a literal smorgasbord of mostly unclothed women standing out in the locker area, just doing their thing. They don't seem concerned that their bodies aren't firm, their hooters hit their navels, or that their underwear is not at all cute.
Now before anyone goes and gets all insulted here, I'm not knocking body types. I'm just saying I don't want to see them. Any of them. And I cannot fathom why more people don't feel this way. What is wrong with a little privacy? Good for you!, people... at the gym, taking care of health and wellness! WOO! But why celebrate with near-nudity? WHY? Why is it socially acceptable to be naked around total strangers, or even people you know, just because you are in a locker room? If you were showering at home and a friend stopped by, you wouldn't invite them to join you. Or if you were changing clothes and a friend stopped by, you would likely say "HANG ON! I'LL BE RIGHT OUT!" rather than saying "Hey! I'm changing! Come on in and join me!"

Can we PLEASE apply these same principles to the locker room? Please? Is that asking too much?

"It's a Wrap... Just in Time For Christmas." i crack myself up.

In the immortal words of DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince...
"DRUMS PLEASE!"

I'm done. Well, sort of done. I absolutely cannot find time to go to the commissary. I did, however, compare Costco and Winco (the local supermarket). Winco is in green, Costco in blue. Because I'm a nerd.
Here's the skinny. You can usually shop for cheaper at the local supermarket if you buy the store brand. I am not above buying the store brand on some things, but there are others on which I simply cannot compromise. Everyone's different, so while generic green beans are a good deal for me, "Toasted Oat Rings" cannot take the place of Cheerios in my bowl. That said, it absolutely comes down to the items you want, and where you are willing to cut corners. I could have saved money buying syrup at Costco, but I can only buy the 45 gallon bottle there. Seriously... have you seen their syrup? Who uses that much? If you do, Costco is where you need to buy.
I bought about half of what I needed at Costco, and spent $126. I anticipate I can buy the remainder of what I need at Winco for about the same amount. That will give me three months' worth of meals for about $300. That's $100 a month... pretty cheap insurance.

*For some reason, Spagetti noodles got cut off. They were $1.78 for a 2 lb bag at Winco. Pretty good. Anything left blank means they didn't carry it at Costco, or I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for. We have sensitive skin here, so the soap will be a special buy.

If I make it to the commissary ever, I'll post my findings. But for now, consider my tutorial finalized. I have shown you how to pick what your family eats, break it down into ingredients, and comparison shop for the best deal. I have shown you how you can feed your family (and wash their hair, brush their teeth and clean their bodies) in a time of crisis for a three month period. I've also accomplished it all for around $300. It really isn't as overwhelming and complicated as it's often portrayed to be. No sprouting wheat germ to obtain vitamin c. And at the rate our government is bailing out failing companies, when you or your spouse become unemployed, don't expect Uncle Sam to have any money left to help you out. You'll be wishing there was any such thing as government cheese.

I've Heard Some People Are Turned On By This Sort Of Thing...

I know everyone has eagerly been awaiting the next installment of my food storage tutorial. My desktop is in the repair shop, and the downside of living in a densely populated rural community is that there are lots of people but not lots of service options. My desktop was 40th in line for repair a week after I brought it in. I only have the laptop, which has none of my pictures on it. So I've been stalling, but a pictureless post will have to do. Sorry.

COSTCO, THE COMMISSARY, OR THE LOCAL SUPERMARKET?
I do not have a Costco membership. But I know people who do. That should work just fine for me when I do my price comparisons. The closest Costco is something like 30-45 minutes away from me, so I don’t see membership as a wise move for our family.
One of the perks of the military life is shopping in a commissary. Unfortunately with ROTC, we are remote, and the closest one is at an Air Force Base an hour away. I know I can get good deals there, but I don’t know how good they’ll be compared to my other two options.
There are 3 supermarkets in our town. Two are recently remodeled, have all kinds of nice amenities and free samples. One is old, sells food in bulk bins, is freezing cold, and looks like a converted warehouse. Guess which one I shop at? If you like the amenities, be prepared to pay for them. I refuse to.
*A little point of order: We have made the choice to take a set amount of money and get our food storage together right now. You don’t have to do it all at once like this. Working from your master list, plan to throw in several of the items each time you shop over the next several months.

So I’m off… I will take a copy of this list to all three stores for price comparisons:

Yes, I really am this nerdy. Love me or leave me. (If you leave me, be sure to go to Paige's blog for a FASCINATING series of posts and threats regarding Kindermusik. Girl, those maracas won't keep your table full during the upcoming depression...)

I'm hitting the local Supermarket first. Then, I'll check out Costco. My last step will be to take the lists from both stores up to the commissary, and see how I fare. I'm sure you're all dying to find out.

Get Up Offa That Thang

Touchy subject, this food storage thing. Frankly, I'm slightly appalled at the apathy creeping into the comments here. Let's get it together people!!
Now. Where do you begin?

Here’s my plan of action:
1. Decide what we eat.
You don’t want to store stuff you won’t eat. So figure out what you DO eat. We had a Family Home Evening where we came up with this meal planner:

Everyone was to list their favorite meals. I was disappointed with the results. Breakfast and lunch were okay; in a time of difficulty, we could eat cereal or pancakes every day, and a PBJ or tuna sandwich for lunch would cut it. But dinner is a lot harder. I found it amusing that someone penciled in "cotin candy" and "pumpkin pie". Especially impressive is the tidy D'Nealian lettering.

2. Narrow it down.
Six or seven meals are easy enough to shop for, and can be rotated throughout the course of a few months. It may sound painfully tedious to eat the same 6 things over and over, but consider this:
a. It’s better than government cheese.
b. You are self-reliant and don’t overburden your church and government.
c. You’re guaranteed it’s stuff your family likes and eats.
d. Theoretically, it’s only temporary.
Here’s what ours looked like AFTER Mom did a little revising:

BREAKFAST
Oatmeal
Pancakes
Syrup
Cereal

LUNCH
Tuna
Peanut Butter
Jelly
Crackers

SUPPER
Soup
Chicken and Rice
Chili
Shepherd’s Pie
Enchiladas
Spaghetti

MISCELLANEOUS
Toilet Paper
Soap
Shampoo
Toothpaste
Popcorn
Canned Fruit/Veggies
Flour
Sugar
Salt
Oil

I will probably still need to make some changes to it; add on a few things. It's a work in progress. Much like my entire life.

3. Make your grocery list.
a. Figure out what ingredients you need for the dishes you’ve chosen. Make a master list. If, during this process, you find you’ve chosen recipes that require a lot of fresh ingredients, you need to rethink your choices. For example: Lasagne. Love it. But it requires a lot of fresh cheese. Not something you can easily store. Spaghetti, on the other hand, requires pasta and canned sauce. Easy to store. Yes, you will miss the fabulous taste of your homemade meatsauce, but we’re thinking emergency essentials here.
b. If you have planned seven meals, you will need enough ingredients to make those meals four times a month for three months. So multiply your ingredients by 12.

Next stop: "ANDREA B, COME ON DOWN! YOU'RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE PRICE IS RIGHT!!" Shopping for the best deal...

WHY? you ask. WHY?

I grew up in an old New England home. We had a cellar. We stored canned food down there. Sometimes, my mom would send me down to get stuff. This is how I felt about that:We’ve come a long way since then. You may or may not be familiar with the LDS church’s teachings on Food Storage. You can learn far more than I could teach you by clicking here.

However, I am going to attempt to teach you a few things. Not all in one post, mind you; you can’t establish a food storage all in one fell swoop… so why try to learn about it like that?
If you think storing food is a practice for religious zealots awaiting the 2nd coming of Christ, maybe you should rethink. When I first got divorced, I worked at Bath and Body Works making $6.00 an hour. It took me 3 months to find a teaching job. In that time, I lived off of my food storage. The kids and I weren’t eating steaks every night, but we had a balanced meal on the table three times a day. In this day and age, with poor job security, financial strain, and plenty of natural disasters, it only makes sense to me to be prepared to take care of your family. And personally, government programs are great, but I prefer to take care of my family myself. I know I’ll do a better job.

We’ve been advised that a good place to start is with 3 month’s worth of food. Take a look at where I stand on that:
You can see I have some work to do. We could live for about a week or two off of what we have now.

Call it pride, but if it came down to lining up at the soup kitchen with my children in tow, or sliding open my pantry door and fixing something myself- I'd take the latter in a heartbeat. And I'm not foolish enough to think that it could never happen to me. So to all you naysayers who don't want to hear about food storage... I'm not sharing my rice OR my pasta with you.

Next up: I tackle the beast.

On Beastie Boys and Food Storage...

Remember when Mike D had a little story to tell? It is my opinion that the entire tale of woe now known as “Paul Revere” could have been avoided with one simple prevention: food storage.

Look with me, if you will. First of all, things started off all wrong. The King Adrock had nothing but a horsie and a quart of beer. Where was his water? We all know if you’re going to ride across the land, kickin up sand, you should take water. Not beer. There are lots of ways to transport and store water. We’ll get to those eventually.
Who does Adrock run into, but MCA. And what is MCA’s first complaint? Four days on the run, and that he’s dyin of thirst. MCA got himself into a little snaggle. Some unexpected adversity hit. Did he have a few cans of tuna, or maybe even chili to fall back on? No. He had nothing. His voice was hoarse, his throat was dry. He had to go to someone else for a sip. There are lots of things MCA could’ve thrown together in a 72 hour kit… but we’ll get to that later as well.
The two travel on. They’re hungry, they’re thirsty. They come to The Spot. You would think at The Spot, they would take advantage of their opportunities to replenish their supplies. Pick up a few items for now, a few for later. Store something up for a rainy day. But NOOOOOOO… not these beastie boys. What do they do but get themselves mixed up with Mike D. Next thing you know, hands went up and people hit the floor. And we all know what happened to the two kids who ran for the door.
And so it ends. The three boys set off to travel the land once again, with nary a bottle of aqua fina to their names. Did they think about the future? Did they set something aside for the next fearful catastrophe? No.
Mike D grabbed the money.
MCA snatched the gold.
Adrock grabbed two girlies, and a beer that’s cold.

They will get hungry and thirsty all over again, and thus the vicious cycle of famine induced loot-n-riot will continue.

So. If you’re interested, for the next month I will be updating and replenishing my food storage. And until I’m finished, I am limiting myself to blogging solely about this topic. Doesn’t that sound FUN!? Stay tuned.

Divorce Can Be Tough

I went through a divorce. It was excruciating. I never wish that kind of pain on anyone. Or their avatar...

TOKYO: A 43-year-old Japanese woman whose sudden divorce in a virtual game world made her so angry that she killed her online husband's digital persona has been arrested on suspicion of hacking, police said Thursday.
The woman, who is jailed on suspicion of illegally accessing a computer and manipulating electronic data, used his identification and password to log onto popular interactive game "Maple Story" to carry out the virtual murder in mid-May, a police official in northern Sapporo said on condition of anonymity, citing department policy.
"I was suddenly divorced, without a word of warning. That made me so angry," the official quoted her as telling investigators and admitting the allegations.
The woman had not plotted any revenge in the real world, the official said.

She has not yet been formally charged, but if convicted could face a prison term of up to five years or a fine up to $5,000.
Players in "Maple Story" raise and manipulate digital images called "avatars" that represent themselves, while engaging in relationships, social activities and fighting against monsters and other obstacles.
The woman used login information she got from the 33-year-old office worker when their characters were happily married, and killed the character. The man complained to police when he discovered that his beloved online avatar was dead.

Seriously.

Whoooo Are You? Who-Who, Who-Who?

So. Thanks, Katie for showing me how to put a picture of my computer screen up. And I'm feeling your pain, so here goes...

Here's the deal. If you make a public blog, people you don't know are probably going to read it at some point. I use sitemeter to see who is reading my blog. At first I used it to satisfy my ego. Then it became more of a security thing. Now, it's just plain confusing.

Here's my statistical suspicion:
40% of the people who read my blog are people I didn't know before blogging, but have since met and become friends with.
15% of the people who read my blog are people I knew before blogging, who have been my friend in REAL LIFE.
45% of the people who read my blog are people I don't know, and who don't leave comments.

That means the majority of the people who read my blog are spies. I kind of think that's weird. I mean, I get that people don't have time to comment on every blog they read. But I think it would be cool if you were going to read someone's blog regularly, to at least pop in and say "HEY! I read your blog. I probably won't comment much, but just wanted to introduce myself."

So... Michigan, Kansas, Dallas, North Carolina (not you mom, dad or jen...), Georgia, Tennessee, South Carolina, Driggs Idaho, and all the random places in California and Utah... WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE??
And the one that I insist step forward is Mr. or Mrs. Dayton Ohio, using the Air Force ISP... you read me a lot, you have read me for awhile... do I know you?

I have made a rule for myself that I will not read any more blogs than I do right now. I have 34 on my reader. About 25 of them post regularly, and that is a lot of blogs for me to keep up on, especially with the one free hour a day I seem to have. So I get that blogging can become overwhelming and obligatory at times. But throw a sista a bone over here! You don't have to comment on every post I put up... but at least tell me you're reading about my life. Tell me you're not a creepy pervert stalking my family. Tell me I won't find you on a registered creepy freak list.
Please.

If Only...

Strap on your seat belts. The ride of a lifetime will now be revealed.

1. At least I got to enjoy plenty of time with my husband. False

The man told me "support" was "encouraged" from families. Take a look at this picture for a minute:

Yeah. That's about as long as I saw him too.

2. At least the weather was fantastic. False

See the rain all over this kid's face and hair? 24-7. Sometimes howling winds, sometimes torrential downpours...
3. At least we got to go to the beach. True

You can only sit in the hotel room and feel sorry for yourself for so long. Besides, it's just water. Think of it as a cleansing shower from Mother Nature. Or a pain in the A... whichever works.

4. At least my car didn't break down in the middle of a rainstorm on some obscure highway. False

Um, yeah. It did. I was driving, and then I wasn't.

5. At least I didn't have to wait 2 hours for a tow truck. False

Two hours on the side of the road in a rainstorm with three children. The car smelled so fresh I wanted to bottle the essence and bring it home to spritz around the house and remind us of the good times.

6. At least no one had to pee in a Gatorade bottle. False

And I am so sorry to say, but there is actually a picture for that. And I'm even sorrier to say that I made my kids go on the side of the road, but as for me... no way in hell. That would be totally embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as posting a picture of your own tinkle on the Internet.

7. At least the tow truck was huge and cool, and the kids loved riding in it. True

The guy's rig was $140,000. It was so high tech. There was a ton of room inside, and the thing was pretty amazing. If you're into huge, powerful, expensive trucks. Note my kids running with anticipation to go get in. We even saw a rainbow once we were buckled in. It brought beauty and hope into our day. Well, not really. But whatever.

8. At least the tow truck driver was clean cut and not scary. True

The guy was like 25 years old, and looked a lot like this guy here. He even still had braces. His goal was to change the image of the towing industry. I'll give him credit... he was pretty upstanding.

9. At least there were no used rubber gloves lying on the floor of the tow truck, probably left over from a previous murder. False

Before I deemed Mr. TowTruck Driver safe, I checked out the interior of his rig. I found this frightening sight. However, I watched Mr. TTD, and he DID actually wear them under his utility gloves to hoist the car. But they COULD'VE been from a murder. Except he turned out to be upstanding.

10. At least we didn't get stranded in a hotel for the weekend, since all repair shops were closed. False

We totally got stranded.

11. At least my husband was able to pick us up on his way home late Sunday night, so we got back in time for school and work on Monday. True

But as you can imagine, I was so done taking pictures at this point. I had now spent a total of ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY HOURS with my kids. Not even a five minute break. Sleeping together, eating together... not quite the "family bonding time" you envision.

12. At least I didn't have to leave my car at a body shop with a note pinned to it, like a baby abandoned on the doorstep of a church. False

Bye-bye little van. Someone out there will take better care of you than I can.

13. At least it's not still there. False

Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?

14. At least I get to drive ten hours with my cool husband to go pick it up this Friday. True

Is it sad that this will be our official date night this month???

15. At least it won't cost me $4,000 to get it fixed. False

The stupid van isn't even worth $4,000 anymore. And I cannot discuss this fact any further, because things happen to me when I do... like ulcers, and muscle spasms, and violent fits of rage...

So there you have it. My fabulous weekend. Believe it or not.

As for a winner... I originally posted that there were 4 truths to be found. Being a bit brain dead right now, there turned out to be 5. I had to change the original post after some people had already commented. So some people only guessed 4, some guessed 5. No one guessed all 5 correctly, but I did say you only had to guess 4 correctly. Tiffany, Lisa, Jeni and Liz all guessed at least 4 correctly. If you really want that prize, I've got a few used rubber gloves here with your name on them. I'll get them right out to you.

At Least...

Last week I took my kids down to the Oregon Coast to watch Skip's cadets participate in Ranger Challenge. To say the trip was uneventful would be a total and complete lie.
Five of the following statements are true. You decide which five:

1. At least I got to enjoy plenty of time with my husband.
2. At least the weather was fantastic.
3. At least we got to go to the beach.
4. At least my car didn't break down in the middle of a rainstorm on some obscure highway.
5. At least I didn't have to wait 2 hours for a tow truck.
6. At least no one had to pee in a Gatorade bottle.
7. At least the tow truck was huge and cool, and the kids loved riding in it.
8. At least the tow truck driver was cleancut and not scary.
9. At least there were no used rubber gloves lying on the floor of the towtruck, probably left over from a previous murder.
10. At least we didn't get stranded in a hotel for the weekend, since all repair shops were closed.
11. At least my husband was able to pick us up on his way home late Sunday night, so we got back in time for school and work on Monday.
12. At least I didn't have to leave my car at a body shop with a note pinned to it, like a baby abandoned on the doorstep of a church.
13. At least it's not still there.
14. At least I get to drive ten hours with my cool husband to go pick it up this Friday.
15. At least it won't cost me $4,000 to get it fixed.

Probably on Wednesday I will post the results. With pictures. Oh yes, with pictures. See if you can guess 4 out of the 5 true statements above, and I'll have a prize for you by early next week.
B, you can't play.

(In the light of recent plagiarism gripes, let me just say that while writing this post, I vaguely recalled one similar to it I read this summer. And I am so not wanting to be a plagiarizer, that I actually went back and looked up that post so I could give proper credit. Sorry it's not in APA format. What can I say, Christie... great minds think alike!)

Dirty Mouth?

Once again, thanks to Jessica, our home is on its way to being a better place. (Although Skip, if you're reading this, it was totally my idea and Jessica was just trying out what I suggested to her.)
These kids of mine. Do they even really like each other? Doesn't seem like it. They can be so mean to each other, and the NAME CALLING... ai papi! It's horrible. So we implemented the system. We took the trash words, (see word bubble below) wrote them on papers, and threw them in the trash. We agreed it's okay to get angry at someone, but there have to be better alternatives to expressing that anger. We came up with four. (Funny, it was WAY easier to make the trash words list...)

So. The trash words are in the trash. The acceptable alternatives are posted on the wall. The "oops" jar has been created. (If they "forget" and use a trash word, the boys have to put a quarter in the oops jar. Noe just has to find some kind of coin... since they're all the same to her anyway, and she doesn't even get an allowance yet.)

So wish us luck. Lucky for me, I only use my trash words in private. So I'll be keeping all my money.

Tick-Me-Off-Elmo

You may recall we went to California this summer. Anyone interested in a little recap of one of our highlights? Here's what we thought: Let's hit Hollywood Boulevard! It could be fun, right? Sure!

Unless Elmo's there.

Elmo: (in sweet, chirpy voice) Hey kids! Wanna come take a picture with Elmo? Hey Mom! Take your kids' picture with Elmo!"
Me: Sure! (I take a picture)Elmo: (holding out tip bucket, still chirping) Thanks guys!
Me: Oh, I'm sorry, I don't have any cash on me.
Elmo: (in angry, possibly drunk, grown man voice) Oh come on, lady! You think we do this for fun? We work off of tips, you know.
Me: (in slightly irritated voice) No, actually, I didn't know that. You might've mentioned it before I took the picture!
Elmo: (still in mean-guy voice) You mean to tell me I'm the first character you've taken a picture with today? Give me a break!
Me: (in really sick of Elmo voice) Um, yeah, actually. You ARE the first picture we've taken today. And probably the last.
Elmo: (in completely disgusted voice) Yeah, well for the record lady, we don't do this for kicks. We make our money off of tips.
Me: Well you may want to mention that up front next time. And you don't deserve a tip anyway. You scared my children. And I think you might also be drunk.

So. As you can see, Hollywood Boulevard is no place for amateurs. Come prepared. Come with cash. Or booze.

I Love You Just the Way You Are

So. Sometimes I get a little confused in my marital relationship. I see my darling spouse, Paige Skip, and I know there's a lot of love, but I just gotta wonder...
The other day we were walking down the street. Paige Skip says to me, "We need to get you some new shoes." I say, "What's wrong with the shoes I'm wearing?" Paige Skip says to me, "You look so good, and then... there's the shoes."
It's a known fact that I'm frugal. Possibly even a bit cheap. I go for the sale items. I employ the old motto "Make do or do without." I don't know why. I'm not really poor. I just am that way.
Paige Skip, on the other hand, likes to encourage me to get new things and look my best. Remember when Skip Paige inspired me to buy that new dress? Well it got me a little hooked. I just bought another new dress. And I'm sure my spouse(s) will like it a lot.

It's nice to be loved. It's nice to know that my spouse(s) want(s) me to look and feel my best. It's good that he or she encourages me to treat myself to new things from time to time. I appreciate having such a loving spouse(s) and I just wanted to give a public thank you.
It's good that the one who most loves me in life is also fashion savvy and willing to drop a lot of money on a pair of shoes or a new dress. So Paige, Skip, I love you.

Never Underestimate the Power of the Schwartz

So. Date night. Now that football has started back up, all of our babysitters are accounted for. Which means date night is going to take a little more effort on our parts. So this weekend I told Skip to come up with the entertainment and I'd handle the munchies. We would have to stay home.
I was feeling pretty impressed with myself for whipping up a favorite kielbasa dip, pina coladas, and a tasty white chocolate mousse with fresh berries...

And guess what Mr. Hilarious provides for entertainment?
Spaceballs. Yes, the movie. I have bragged to him since we got married that while in high school, I could quote the movie word for word from beginning to end. I'm not sure if he wanted to test me, or just watch me laugh like an idiot for 90 minutes. Either way, it was one of the most fun nights we've had in a while. If you haven't watched Spaceballs since high school, the time has come. Actually, the time is now. You're looking at now, sir. What happens now is happening now. What happened to then? We passed then. When? Just now. When will then be now? Soon...
And yes, that's a portable DVD player on our bed. We refuse to put a television in our room... lessons learned the hard way once before. Television in the bedroom = lackluster love life.

My Little B.M.

So. In case you're wondering, this post is not about poop. B.M. stands for "Brag Moment". I'm sure a poop post would be more entertaining, but what is the blog for if not to exploit yourself and talents from time to time?

Feast your eyes on exhibit A:

Big whoop, says you. Well... let me just say that I started this little piece de resistance (please pronounce with a sultry French accent) about 5 or 6 years ago. I got a significant chunk of it done, and then threw it in a box with the rest of my life and forgot about it. The other day, I was looking at our drab green bedspread, thinking it looked an awful lot like an Army uniform, and decided it was time for a change.

I went to the garage, dug through a box, and found this unfinished business. I zipped around on the sewing machine for a bit, and presto! I now have this clever little log-cabin duvet cover.

There are plenty of flaws in it, to be sure. And I didn't have enough fabric to finish the log cabin pattern all the way around, so I had to do some improvising on the edges. But all in all, I'm pleased.
So there you have it. Secretly, I long to be domestic.

Nah. Just kidding. Secretly, I long to be rich enough to buy all the cute things I want.

The Doggie Paddle Gone Wrong

Ah, the local water park. It's a great place to take my kids when the temps rise to an uncomfortable degree. There are slides, various pools, lots of other kids to play with... you get the picture. We've been gone a lot this summer, so we haven't had the chance to go like we did last year. So this week, I thought we would make an appearance.

Imagine my shock and disgust when I arrived and found THIS picture posted up on the entry window:

We live in a very earthy-crunchy community. Sweaterheads abound. And they love their dogs as much as they love their deomcracy. For the most part, I don't mind all of this. I enjoy a little liberalism, I like the look of dreadlocks, I'm fascinated with hairy-underarmed women; I rather enjoy life in this modern day Haight-Ashbury.

But the dogs? It's a bit much for me. Have a pet if you want; love it, walk it, feed it... shoot, you can even bring it to the park and toss around a frisbee as long as you have a Walmart bag at the ready. But when I show up at the water park and find there is a special day set aside for doggie swim, I get a little ill. I get a little irate, actually. I mean, even though there's really no difference between a dog peeing in the pool and a kid peeing in the pool, one is clearly harder to stomach than the other. And while there is little difference between my long-haired stepdaughter shedding in the pool, and a doggie shedding in the pool, again, one is clearly more repulsive than the other.

So now what? Do I boycott? This is a small community. There are limited opportunities for aquatic adventure. We're having an unusual heat wave, and water play is essential. The kids think it's cool. Is this one more thing in my life that I'll just have to learn to let go of? Why, God, must you torment me with these trials???

She's From Boston

I have hundreds of pictures from my vacation. Hundreds. There were so many people, so many beautiful places. I love New England. I realize most everyone doesn't want to see all my hundreds of pictures, so here, in video form, are the highlights. (If you DO happen to want to see all my pictures, click on the family album link on the right).

Say Fromage, Rusty!

Here's the fam.

My brother and his family left to return to CT today.  I'm leaving on Thursday and heading to New York.  I really enjoy spending time with my family.  But THIS SATURDAY... I get to see my husband again.  THAT is what I am most excited for.

ps: for anna, and other humorously-challenged friends, the title is from national lampoon's european vacation.  a family favorite.

The Ties That Bind

Greetings from North Carolina!

I cannot say how good this vacation has been for my soul.  As happy as I am in my life and in my marriage, there are some residual effects of divorce that occasionally rear their nasty head. And they bother me. One is the fact that when you divorce, you inevitably lose some friends.  Some people take sides, some people judge you, and some people just plain don't know how to respond, so they avoid you.  I can't go chasing down every person I've ever known to make sure that they're okay with my life choices.  And while for the most part I can let it go, sometimes it does bother me.  

I grew up in the same town almost all of my life.  I had a very loving extended family... made up entirely of people not related to me.  It would literally be impossible for me to keep in touch with all of them as often as I'd like.  But at the risk of sounding sappy, they are always in my heart, and I have very tender feelings for them.  Today at my parents' house, a bunch of old friends from Massachusetts happened to align paths so that we all met up.  I laughed until I cried- for hours.  It was so reassuring to me to feel so loved.  It felt good for them to tell me that I looked happy, and to see that my happiness was important to them.  

I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a blessing in my life.  My husband is not big on keeping in touch with people, which is unfathomable to me.  But he understands and accepts my need to do so.  That makes me a very lucky woman.

Here are a few pictures from today.  You may know some of these people, you may not.  (I'm sure you all know Steve... otherwise known in Blogland as HappyBack.  If he's not on your reader, he should be.  You're guaranteed a laugh.)  These people are my extended family, and I love them dearly.

Norman and Debbie

Me and Tara

Yisel, Andrew and Isabella (my brother and his wife... so they are family)

Don and Iris

Sam, Paul and Ellie

Valerie and Tara

Me and Steve