Friday, June 30, 2006

The Quinceanera

Tonight we went to a party that resembled a wedding more than a birthday party for a fifteen year old. The girl was dressed in white and had attendants, just like in a wedding. Here's the wedding birthday party.

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They all danced a waltz, the father read a piece about his little girl, she played a piano piece for us and then we were treated to a lovely buffet and a wedding birthday cake. Does this look like any birthday cake you've ever seen?Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Before the party we peeled potatoes and carrots for a salad. Here is Steph, Annabella and Christopher on KP.
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Here is Paco, Annabella, Ashley and Allison all dressed for the party.

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Earlier in the day we dropped Steph off at a gym so she could work out and then I drove the rest of the kids down my memory lane. I showed them the dorms I used to live in as a college freshman, then the house I lived in for nearly three years as I continued playing around and pretending to go to school my education.

Then we drove up around the temple and I showed the kids how I used to jog up around the temple with my roommates and back to the dorms again. Yep. Mom used to jog. Then we went a bit further up and got out to walk a bit in the canyon. Here is Chris and Ally.

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It has tugged at my heart, being here again. The mountains remind me of so much. I drove the kids through campus and marveled at all the changes that have been made since I was here the last time. It's hard to believe that perhaps next year I'll be bringing my baby girl here to go to school.

I can't possibly be that old yet.

Friday Fun

We just finished watching Argentina vs Germany in the World Cup. Since we are a house full of latinos, we were rooting for Argentina of course. They lost.

It's so much fun being in a household of spanish speakers again. Non-stop chattering and I love it Last night there were people here from Puerto Rico, Venezuela, Uraguay, and Chile. I'd forgotten how much fun it is to 'become' latin with them, gesturing more with speech, emotional outbursts, hugging and kissing and lots of great food. It was heaven.

Annabella has this enormous house. She wants us to sell our house and move down here with her. I'd love to! I love Orem/Provo. When I lived here going to BYU for four years, I enjoyed it immensely. I'm sure the kids would love it too.

Of course there is the little problem of where would Lance work?

This afternoon Is another soccor game then this evening we're going to a huge Quince party. A Quince is a party given when a child turns fifteen. It's a very formal affair. I'll take lots of picures.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Blogging From The Road

Our first adventure on the road occurred an hour and a half into the drive. Long enough for me to feel a little sleepy. All the kids were asleep when there was a loud BOOM!
A large truck a little ahead and to the right of us had blown a tire. And I do mean blown. Large chunks of rubber came flying at me as I swerved to avoid hitting them. The noise had awakened two of the kids, my mad driving woke the remaining two.
“Whoa, what was that?”
“The semi blew a tire in front of us”

Yeah, whoa. Now I was awake. Thankfully I missed most of the larger pieces of rubber and we kept on keeping’ on. For another twelve hours or so.
I was delightfully surprised to find few complaints were made by the children, except to say that they needed a potty break or they were hungry.
There was no fighting. For a while I was uncertain as to whether or not I had packed the right children when I left home.
On our second leg of the journey, from Pocatello to Salt Lake City, they confirmed their parentage by first complaining about the temperature.
“It’s HOT IN HERE!” snarled my eldest daughter, sitting beside me in the shotgun seat.
“I’m cold!!! Turn off the air conditioning! I’m so c-c-c-old!” This from Allison, seated behind me. I told her to get her blanket and wrap up. Of course this entailed moving to the back seat and leaning over her sleeping brother. This woke up the sleeping brother, who did not take kindly to having his nap time interrupted by his little sister. I’m certain had we not been hurtling down the road at close to eighty miles an hour, the confrontation would have deteriorated into shoving.
“Knock it off, sit down and belt up!” I yelled to the back.
They did. Eventually. Then Allison was so cold she put her quilt up over her head. Ashley was convinced that her sister was about to smother to death, so she yanked the blanket from her head. This elicited yelling from Allison and return yelling from Ashley saying she was only trying to save her life.
I told Ashley that Allison was in no danger of suffocating and to put the blanket back over her head as she wanted to stay warm.
Then number one son got into the complaint game.
“Why can’t you fly me home with Stephanie? I don’t want to be here”
I’d LOVE to fly him home. I would if it didn’t cost so much. If he keeps up this line of behavior I may smack him so hard that he flies home without benefit of an airplane.
He was having a great time right up until Jared left to go to a baseball tournament in Boise. Jared is the son of my friend Genea Erickson, who used to live in Seattle near us and now resides in Chubbuck, Idaho. It was her house we were staying at for a few days.
Jared and Chris had spent two days four wheeling up in the hills outside of town. I knew they’d have fun, because each time they came home they were covered in dirt from head to tow and grinning like mad. Nothing makes boys happier than getting dirty at top speed.
Here are the two boys as they stumbled from bed after staying up till 3am playing video games. Mine is the one on the left.

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Later in the morning, Stephanie decided to squash Allison on the couch. Not sure why. Perhaps this is a new sisterly bonding ritual.

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The second day in Pocatello we drove up to Rexburg to check out BYU Idaho for Stephanie. While we were there, Geanea decided that we should play a game in which we stopped random cute guys, tell them we have a bet to see how many pictures we can get with Stephanie and hot guys. We found two. They were laughing, so it was fun.

While we were there we had to stop at DQ for ice cream. Here is Allison, Ashley and Bryce in the back seat eating their cones.

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So now we're in Utah, staying with Annabella. They hosted a HUGE barbecue for us tonight, with lots of their friends. Tomorrow night we're going to a Quince then Saturday we're going to their friend's Brazilian restaurant to watch the soccor game between Brazil and France. Guess who we're rooting for?

And lastly, you can take a girl from her home, but you can't separate her from her cell.
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Monday, June 26, 2006

Heat Stroke

I think I'm having it. It's over 90 degrees INSIDE MY HOUSE!! This isn't something that makes me feel all warm and cozy.. Well, warm sure. Cozy, not so much.

I've been promised that our air conditioning will be done and working by the time I get home from hell one the hottest places on the planet (LV) I made mention of the fact that if the air conditioning is not hooked up and pumping out nice, frozen air by the time I'm supposed to start my return trip, I won't start my return trip. In fact, I won't come home at all. I'll stay right there, lodeged in that Las Vegas pool and I don't care how pruney I get, I won't come out.

How's that for a temper tantrum.

Oh, and my oil gauge did something wonky today. Hubby is outside looking into it right now.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy, Joy.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Revised Trip

We're still going on the ROAD TRIP TO PERDITION. However, we've had to cut some of the trip short and will not be making any stops in California. In fact, we won't be going to CA at all.

Idaho, Utah, Nevada, back through Utah, Idaho and home.

Did I mention that yesteerday it was hot enough in Las Vegas to dry up the canals in the Venetian Casino? Ayup. I think there was only steam left. My father in law sent me an email with a tantalizing picture of the pool that awaits us. Here's a picture of it from last year when our son was having such fun there.

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I'm looking foreward to this time on the road and with friends. I'll have my laptop with me and my digital camera, so I'll be uploading all the pictures and posting updates here on my blog so hubby and family can see our voyage.

Summer Yummies

The girls had fun with creamsicles yesterday. From left to right, Ashley,Allison and niece Nicole. I didn't know they had raspberry creamsicles before yesterday. Yes, I've been living in a cave, why do you ask?

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The girls took a break between trampoline jumping marathons and hosting three lemonade stands in front of our house. They made $6.81 for their work. Not too bad, considering it was a quarter a cup. I'm sure the neighbors love paying for our orange juice drink mix.

We're off to church. Today is going to be a scorcher and the air conditioning still isn't hooked up. Someone shoot me.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Saturday Post

Today will be hot. Tomorrow will be hotter. Monday I'm planning on exploding from the heat.

Unless the air conditioning is finished being hooked up here of course. We've put it off for so long that it's now summer. Hubby is working on it right now, bless him.

Anyone that knows me, knows I do not do well in heat. My father-in-law sent me an email saying it's 115 degrees in Lost Wages. But it's a dry heat, right?? Riiiiiight.

I am contemplating not doing the road trip thing after all. Here are the reasons.

1. Locked in a vehicle for hours on end with a cranky teen who does not want to go.
2. We were forced to purchase tires for the suburban, which took a rather large chunk of change out of our trip savings.
3. The whole 'being in a car with my son while he whines for 3,000 miles.
4. The being away from my husband for so long thing. It will be close to three weeks.
5. Did I mention that whiny, teenage boy thing yet?
6. It's 115 degrees in Las Vegas. My hair will melt.
7. The 'are we there yets' and the 'I need to go potty!' cries.
8. Have I mentioned my son?
9. My daycare family is moving so I lose that income, so now would not be a good time to spend bazillions on a road trip.
10. I will be outnumbered four to one. I don't stand a chance.
11. I don't want to end up in prison for leaving my son by the side of the road in death valley because I don't think the defense "He was annoying the crap out of me' will sway the jury to find me not guilty.

There are more reasons, but right now I can't think of them. My head hurts from getting so many phone calls from my son since he's been up at Youth Conference since forever just yesterday. Seems he's 'not having fun' and they're 'making us work like dogs in the sun' and 'play stupid games' and ' the dance is stoooopid'. He wants me to come and get him and bring him home.

Ha. Like that's happening. If he's here I have to listen to him. If he's away, then I only have to hear the phone ring.

No way Jose. I'm free of him till six tonight.

I need some ice cream.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Darker Hair

I went a little darker with the hair than I normally do. I'm thinking of lightening it up a bit. Whatcha think? I took this in the bathroom mirror last night. Apparently I also need to clean the bathroom mirror as the kids have been spitting their toothpaste there, rather than in the sink. Sorry about the photo quality, I'm not the best self photographer. Plus, I look really tired.

EDIT: Ok, I'm putting the fugly picture back up, but I reserve the right to remove it.

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Thursday, June 22, 2006

More Danielisms...

Me: "Daniel, where's your Daddy?"
Daniel: "He's in Iraq fighting da bad guys"
Me: "Really?"
Daniel: "Yeah, he's fighting the bad guys and making me proud!"
Me: "Wow, he's making you proud, huh?"
Daniel: "Yeah, and I'm taking good care of mommy. I make her peanut butter and jelly sammiches so I take good care of her"
Me: "You're good to take care of her like that honey"
Daniel: "Miss Pam, do you want to keep me?"
Me; "No Daniel. I can'tkeep you"
Daniel: "Is your heart broken?"
Me: "Yes, my heart is broken"
Daniel: "I will fix your broken heart, Miss Pam. In a minute"
Me: "How will you fix it for me?"
Daniel: "I know how to fix lots of stuff. Cuz I work at the policeman place, at builder work and that's how many works I work at"
Me: "So you can fix my heart, huh?"
Daniel: "Yeah"

If only....

Now I have a fever

And no, I don't need more cowbell. I need some Tylenol or something.

Hubby is coming home from work to go get new tires for our suburban. I should have listened to him before I had the Great Tire Fiasco of 2006. He said that we should consider getting new tires.

Pshaw I told him. (btw, 'pshwa' is a considerably underused word)

So I talked him out of it, citing expense and the upcoming expense of the trip, plus oooh, new tires are expensive.

I promise never to challenge him in the arena of Vehicular Expenditures again. Except of course if he thinks we need another new vehicle and comes across something shiny that empties out the children's college funds.

Gaaaaa. My head hurts. I think I'll go back to bed.

Bandit Fashion

This video is hilarious. Who knew you could teach Japanese tourists how to speak English via aeorobics?

Bloggers can be cranky

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up.

Today has not been a stellar day.

It was the last day of school, which was fine. There was apparently an armed man running around, so my girl's elementary school was placed into lockdown and according to my girls, lots of kids were crying and scared and I don't blame them. I took them home early.

But not because of that.

First, let me say that I did make it to the gym this morning, which was good. Then I went off to buy some unmentionables, as I needed new unmentionables. While I was there, my cell phone rang and it was my seventeen year old, demanding to know where I was.

She and three of her friends were going to our beach cabin for a celebratory over night stay, and I was to drive ahead of them to show them the way. (She of course thought this was silly and that I didn't trust her, yada yada yada)

So we drive. it's about a two hour drive. As we're driving, a rather large bug splattered my windshield and for some reason I kept thinking how horrible that was and I felt so badly. For a bug. Honest. I thought it's really true, sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug.

Then I looked at the beautiful scenery that I was driving through. Not much in the way of houses, fairly rural and thought about next week when I begin my three thousand mild adventure, driving through several states with just me and the kids. Then I looked around and thought.."Gee....I wonder how I'd handle a flat tire out in the middle of nowhere?"


I kid you not.

At first it didn't dawn on me. I thought, wow, this is really a bad road. Then I thought...this is a really really bad road. Then I realized it had nothing to do with the road.
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You can't really tell from this picture, but it was a very, very flat tire. Thankfully my exit had come up, I wobbled off and down a hill a bit before coming to rest against a curb.

My wonderful daughter and her carload of friends pulled in behind me.
"Mom, you have a really flat tire! Hey, can we just keep going?"

Um, no. You go find me some help. (This was after I considered whapping her senseless and then realized she was already senseless.)

She went, only because three of them needed to look for a bathroom. They found a Goodyear Tire place at the bottom of the hill and to the right. She called me on her cell and I told her to give the phone to the guy behind the desk. I explained what was wrong and was there anything they could do for me?

"I knew these girls were trouble when I saw them come in here giggling", said the man.

He said he could have someone to me, but not right away. No problem, I was just glad there was help on the way.

They sent me someone who flunked out of Tire Changing School.

:::Hmmmm....that doesn't look like a flat tire to me::::
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Um, no, that's because the flat tire is ON THE FRONT OF THE VEHICLE!!!

Then he attempted to free the spare tire from my suburban. This did not go well. In fact, this did not go at all.
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He finally admitted defeat and said he could pump some air into the flat tire so I could limp it down the hill.

That didn't work either.

Then he went back to looking for a way to get my spare tire from my suburban. Nope.

Hey, what's this? How about I remove the tire, take it back to my shop, remove the bad tire, put another tire on the rim and you can pay me for a new tire.
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This is nearly two hours into it and I would probably have agreed to cut off my right arm to get out from the hot sun and on my way again. Could he get my flat tire off? Well, of course not.

This is when I killed him.
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Ok, not really, but I was tempted.

Then he left again. He came back fifteen minutes later with something he said he'd taken from his boss. Whatever it was, didn't work either.

Tick tock, tick tock. By this time I am sunburned. I think it might be coming from the heat inside my head.

Finally, he was able to get the tire off. A miracle.
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He took the tire down to his shop, put a used tire on, brought it back and put it on my vehicle.

All this took a mere three hours.

Next time I think about 'what ifs' it won't be about flat tires. I'll be thinking about the lottery.

We went to the beach cabin just long enough for my two girls to dip their feet in the water and for me to search for the meaning of life in the waves crashing on the shore.
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The girls and I took a ferry back to Seattle, had dinner with my sister and my dad, then they decided they wanted to stay there. I drove home alone, the sunroof open the stereo cranked up about as high as it could go.

When I got home it was time to hug and kiss my friend Dan. I suppose I'd been a bit over stressed all day and had kept it all in, because it all came out as I said goodbye to Dan for a year. He's shipping out to Iraq and it hurt my heart to give him one last hug. I couldn't stop crying.

All in all, there are a lot worse things than having a flat tire fixed in three hours flat.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

I'm So Excited I Can't Sit Still!!

(And no Tom, sorry. This has nothing to do with you)

My next door neighbor and all round SAINT, Jenny, has offered to do the editing, layout and graphics for my book!! Apparently she was in the biz B.C. (before childen)

I read her email and couldn't believe the rise in my pulse rate. Of course I'd also just finished drinking one of these babys

So that could account for my racing pulse, shortness of breath and energy level so high that I'm even contemplating doing a load of laundry. By hand!

I'm so excited that I just sent over nearly my entire manuscript via email to her computer and now I've probably crashed it, it will cost thousands to repair and there goes our friendship.

I'm so excited...I'm so excited...I'm so excited!

Ok. Deep breaths. Calm. Go to your happy place Pammy.

Ok, back to my happy dance!

More Daniel-isms

"Miss Pam, you're old"
"I know Daniel. I can't help it"
"Your house smells nice, but you're still old"

So, this disproves the theory that if you're old, your house must have that Old-People smell.

Good Mommy

Number one son called from school.

"Mom! How come you're not answering your cell phone??"

Well, I've been working on my book for nearly four hours, I guess I didn't hear it because I forgot to put it in my bra. Forgive me, I had other things to think about. Like how many pages I've got so far, how much is this going to cost, what about marketing, what about graphics, etc.

"MOOOM! I have a ten dollar fine and I want a milkshake or a smoothie for lunch"

Of course he does. He got his braces on yesterday and since his teeth hurt, he can't eat. Or so he thinks. And didn't I just run over to the school last week and pay his fines? I was sure I did.

"No, that was an old fine. This is a new fine"

Well, certainly it is. We couldn't get through the second to last day of school without incurring yet another fine, now could we?

So, good mother that I am, I put the boys into the car, went to Dairy Queen to get him a large vanilla shake, along with ten dollars cash, which I then dutifully delivered to school.

Now, back to my writing. Until the next phone call.

Google Got Me

Someone from Tulane University found me by way of a google search looking for

Dormitory Boys

I'm sorry, but we have no dormitory boys here. I've looked.

Today is next to last day of school for the rugrats. Perhaps I could send them off somewhere and then they could be dormitory boys.

Well, dormitory boy at the very least. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, considering the evil look I got this morning because his mouth hurts from his brand spankin' new braces and it's evidently all my fault.

Yes, I definitely think he's a Dormitory boy candidate.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Orthodontia and other things that cause you pain.

Number One Son was to get his spacers put in this morning and his braces put in on Thursday. After I left the pool this morning I called the orthodontist's office because Stephanie (who already has her braces) broke a bracket and needs it fixed. Apparently they'd been frantically calling me all morning in an attempt to get Chris in today for everything as there had been a death in the Dr.'s family and he was leaving town.

Sooooo. Today my son is getting his spacers and then a few minutes later they will pound his braces on him. Lance is home today, so I said we should take Chris out to lunch somewhere before he goes in so he can enjoy one last great meal before the pain. Lance offers to take him. No problem.

Then it dawns on me. He's taking him because he wants to take him someplace other than a drive thru. I know exactly where.

Famous Daves Barbecue.

I can't say as I blame him. Who could resist that? I hope they have some father/son bonding time. And they bring me back a doggie bag.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Curfew Breaking

Gad, how did I get to be the age where I'm in charge of enforcing curfews on a hormonal seventeen year old girl child??

She knows her curfew is 11:30. This is a highly generous curfew time, considering that she's gorgeous. If I had my druthers, she'd be homeschooled and wearing burlap sacks over her body and a large sombrero on her head and never allowed to see any boys.

She works out at a gym near our home every day. She's been utterly fanatical about it, sometimes going there twice a day. She's missed her curfew three times this week alone. Tonight I text messaged her and told her to get home. No response. I texted her again that I was coming over there. She obviously didn't believe me because she didn't come home.

I went over. In my nightie and barefoot no less. It's nearly midnight, I'd rather have been asleep.

I didn't go in. I didn't have to. It's a 24 hour gym, and you can see inside. I saw her truck and one other truck there. Aha. A guy. Brock is his name. He works there. He's the ONLY one there.

She came scurring out to head me off from coming inside and enbarrassing her totally. (It was never my intention to get out of my suburban and walk inside the place--I knew once she saw me she'd race outside). I told her she was grounded, to get in her car and get home. I watched her go back inside, and talk to the guy again. More talk. Then a hug. (blood beginning to boil a bit here) and she walks out. I'm still sitting there looking inside. The guy turns, sees me looking at him. We look at each other.

If there had been thought bubbles above our heads mine would have not been a ladylike one.

I had to drive around to the other side of the building to get out. I saw him looking out at me. I looked back at him.

I think I need to join that gym.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Saturday Post

My dear friend, and close personal intellectual, Vicus, has said that no one reads or comments on posts that are made on Saturdays.

I proved him wrong by both reading and commenting upon his saturday post.

And now I'm off to post something here myself.

Hubby and I took the girls to the pool this morning and swam their little hearts out. We snuck out of the big family pool to bathe in the hot jacuzzi (no one under fifteen allowed) by ourselves. It felt soooooo good. Both our backs were hurting and the jets combined with the hot water = yum.

I've also been working on our road trip, trying to pare it down even more but I don't think I can, unless I skip California. But then the kids will be upset that we don't dip down into Mexico for a day or so.

So....Mexico or no. The polls are now open. Please cast your votes.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Road Trip

So, lets see. I've pared down our road trip from 3 1/2 weeks, to 2 1/2 weeks, but that's still a long time to be in the car with four (perhaps five) children.

We're leaving a burly house sitter here at our home. He loves cats, dogs, and shotguns. I think things will be fine.

However, that still doesn't make me feel all warm and cuddly about this trip. I take that back. I do. In fact, if I had my way, I'd stay on the road for the entire summer. However, I'd only do that if it was only my hubby and I. I'd take the children, but they'd have to know that there would be consequences to their actions and/or verbalizations while on the road.

We are going to Idaho, Utah, Nevada, California, Oregon and then back home to Washington. We're staying with friends and family the entire time, except for probably two nights somewhere in California or Oregon.

I hope to show the children parts of the Redwood Forest in California and the Seal Lion Caves on the Oregon coast. So much to see, so little time.

Best Hair Conditioner EVAH!

Last night there was an incident of Bacon Grease Flicking.

This involved my nine year old and my seven year old. The nine year old was the flicker, the seven year old was the flickee. The bacon grease landed in the bacon grease flickee's hair. This was, of course, shortly after bathtime, when the hair was nicely laundered for the next day.

This is the next day.

I was assured that the bacon grease flicker would do no more flicking and that the bacon grease flickee would submit to a shower this morning in order to remove the bacon grease from her hair.

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As you can plainly see (Oh how I love cell phone cameras that make no audible picture taking noise so the victim is not aware that a snap has occurred!)the bacon grease flickee's hair is still coated in...erm...bacon grease.

She has refused a shower, and my spinal column will not allow me to do a forced shower on her. She is going to school in this condition. I told her that I will most likely get a phone call asking me why my child smells of bacon and just why her hair looks like it's been smeared with vasoline.

Bacon grease flickee does not care.

I will keep this photo so that when she is a teenager I can regale her with the tale of how she went to school in such a lovely condition. I'm sure she'll be pleased.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Self Publishing: Boon or Boneheaded?

I've been doing some research on self-publishing my book.

From all the info gleaned, I think it might be a good way to go.

Has anyone out there had success with self publishing a book? I'd love to hear from you.

Kitty Malfunction

This is so funny to me.

Our female cat has been wandering the house, caterwauling so loudly, especially at night. Everyone in the family is complaining about the noise.

Then it dawned on me. She's in heat.

Here's the funny thing. Our male cat (uncle daddy) is fixed. Our female cat, she of the Matrix Moves, is not.

This morning I watched as the female writhed and meowed in front of the male, so he climbed on top of her, shook his head, got off her and ran away. It was like I could see a thought bubble above his head saying, "Hmm...I think this was fun, but I don't really remem......oh look! Something shiny over there!"

The female then did more loud wailing and ran off as well. Poor thing.

I did the pool this morning with a brutal headache. Still have some of it lingering on the right side of my head.

I'm making lasagna for dinner tonight, as it's Dan's favorite meal. He's the one being shipped off to Iraq next week to live on army rations for a year. His favorite dessert is lemon meringue pie. I'll do that tomorrow for him.

I'm off to do some writing now. Toodles.


Do you ever have dreams so vivid that you wake up not knowing if they were real or not?

I just had one and it was so bizarre. And horrible. In it my father died. Then for some reason I was at a Christmas party at my sis-in-laws house, only her house appeared to be on the waterfront in downtown Seattle and I was feeling bad that I didn't have time to help out more with the dinner and decorations. My husband's father was handing out painkillers and wasn't giving any to me. I felt so bad and wanted a little cup with the pills in it too.

Very strange. So, interpretations anyone?

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

More Google Hits

Someone in Ohio found my blog via a word search for
I Am Too Stupid To Live

Yes, there's not a lot more fulfilling than to know I'm loved for my stupidity. I work so hard at it, it's good that people notice.

Old Enough?

" EVERYONE but ME in my first grade class has their ears pierced!!!

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This was follwed by numerous foot stamps and more whining.

And this is supposed to make me think you're mature enough for what?

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

The Big Burp

You have to see this!

Sleep Disorders

I think I have one. Or four. Or now that I think about it ::counts on fingers and toes::: I have eight. Four children, three cats, and one dog.

Uncle daddy went missing last night. You must understand that mine are indoor kitties. They are not allowed to venture outside our home as I want them to remain healthy for years to come. So it happens that somehow Uncle Daddy escaped last night and I can't sleep when one of my childen aren't home and accounted for.

So no sleep for me. I must have woken hubby up around 1:30 and when he found out that our cat was missing, he got right out of bed to search for him. This, from a man who was going to have to get up for good in less than two hours. Is there any wonder why I love him? (Sorry Tom!)

Lance found our wet and very frightened cat outside in front of our house. He's been skittish all day since. I hope he learned his lesson that it's a big bad world out there.

Having had no sleep, I wasn't in the mood to head for the gym this morning, but I did anyway. I felt better for having done so, and after my workout I relaxed in the jaccuzi there for a while because I didn't have my daycare boys with me.

Speaking of my little guys.... I will probably be losing them this week. Dan ships out to Iraq next week, and the house they flipped hasn't sold so they are planning on moving into it. I'm heartsick about losing my little men. I know this is a very tough decision for her to make, as she will be in a neighborhood where she knows no one, and there aren't any small children around for Daniel and Dillon to play with. I know it's a tough decision by the way her face looked today after she had a crying meltdown before she came to my door to talk about moving.

If she moves....we may also. My father has been asking us to move into his large house in Seattle, near Greenlake, so he can take some money out of his house and purchase a trailer and go traveling around the country for a while. We're from there originally, and all our kids desperately wish to move back.

I think I'll hold off on decisions until after I get the meatloaf from the oven for dinner.


Monday, June 12, 2006

Google searches

I've discovered a few people have made their way here via Google searches looking for the following:

Lonely Puss
Don't cry over spilled milk
I'm not afraid to go back to jail

Odd how people find you online, isn't it? There are more, but I thought those were interesting. At least I'm not popping up on porn searches. I mean, I'm not, right?

Right? ::tap tap tap::: Is this thing on? Hellooooo?

The Right Way

This is Twitchy and his mother, Smokey hiding under a bed. For good reason.
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Today we’re going to talk about the right way, and the wrong way to take your cat to see the vet for the first time

The right way is to pick them up in your arms, in a nice quiet room, soothe them with your voice and place them gently inside the pet carrier. Carefully close the pet carrier door, all the while talking in dulcet tones to keep your beloved animal peaceful and feeling loved.

The wrong way is how my husband attempted to do it today, which resulted in bloodshed, excrement and a chipped tooth. His, not the cat’s. The chipped tooth I mean. Also, for clarification purposes, it was the cat who had the crap literally scared out of him and not (as was the rumor) my husband.

We have two cats that have not seen a vet before. One is the mother of the boy, who is the result of an unfortunate act of incest by our third cat, who is now in his fourth month of a serious time out for breeding with his sister.
Thankfully all four kittens were born with the proper number of limbs and no extra eyes. We gave three of them away and kept one. The children have named this cat Twitchy. As you may have guessed, this particular feline’s genetic makeup may have taken more than a little detour by virtue of having an Uncle Daddy and an Auntie Momma. Despite his propensity for suddenly twitching a paw for no apparent reason, we love him. And when you love an animal, you take care of it as best you can by making sure it’s healthy enough to have it’s bits and pieces whacked off before it commits yet another assault on all that is decent by engaging in sexual relations with it’s mother.

There are just some things I’d rather not have to explain to the children.
Today we had an appointment for Twitchy and his mother Smokey. We have one pet carrier. We didn’t think it was a problem for both cats to ride together, as they are a very close mother and son. So close in fact that I still find the nearly five month old nursing on his poor mother. In cat years, this is akin to a five year old unbuttoning his mother’s blouse for an afternoon snack. Wrong, oh so very wrong.
Sharing a pet carrier shouldn’t have caused a problem. It was the getting them in the pet carrier that caused the problem. First, hubby picked up the mother, as skittish as she is, in a room that contained four girls, ages seven to nine. As anyone can tell you, girls of this age are not known for being quiet when an impending sleepover is in the offering. They were screeching.

As one child held Twitchy and hubby held Momma, the decibel level suddenly jumped and it seemed both cats were suspended in mid air above the pet carrier for a few breathtaking seconds before hissing balls of fangs and fur flew in two different directions.

Hubby was holding up his arms and looking at them. Long, red scratch marks were emblazoned on both arms and as I went near to inspect the damage, I realized that someone, hopefully not human, had released his or her bowels in the near vicinity. I carefully avoided breathing through my nose and peered into the pet carrier. Yep. Poop. Lovely.

I looked back at hubby who had an odd look on his face and was running his tongue back and forth over his front teeth.

“What’s wrong?
“I chipped a tooth”
“You…what? How?”
“Trying to put the cat into the carrier. I chipped tooth”
“The cat hit you in the face?”
“No, I did it”
“With what?”
“My other tooth”

In closing, please remember if your husband is planning on ’helping’ you get your pets to a vet, it’s a good idea to have him wear a mouth guard and protective clothing, perhaps a Kevlar vest or a biohazard suit if there are young children present. Better yet, don’t let your husband help, especially if you don’t have dental insurance.

For the record, this is Uncle Daddy. For some reason he enjoys sleeping on our bedroom window sil.

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What to do.....what to do....

Having spent the majority of yesterday in bed with hubby (and not in good way), it's nice to climb from the sack this morning to find that my tummy issues appear to have resolved, but my spinal column is still trying to kill me.

I'll head off to the pool after I get the last of the kidlets off to school. It usually helps me work the kinks out and I feel better for it. I hope my hubby's back is feeling better this morning. That reminds me, I need to make him an appointment with the Chiropractor.

Next week marks the end of the school year for my babies. The year seems to have flown. Again. Soon I'll be sitting in a nursing home, gumming my meals, holding wheelchair races down the halls and wondering why my children never visit.

Ah yes, the cycle of life.

I've spent the last couple of days working on columns for deadlines and pondering writing a letter to a murderer.

When I was fourteen, my best friend was raped and murdered. Everyone, including a good family friend who was a homicide cop, was sure that Ted Bundy was the one that had taken Kathy's life. It turns out that we were wrong. And now that I'm in the initial stages of writing about Kathy, I feel as though I need to talk to If only to ask him why.

Time to wake the last two sleeping angels and get them off to school so I can swim my anxiety off. Toodles!

Sunday, June 11, 2006


I took the following from the US website on travel advisories:

CRIME: Caracas has one of the highest murder rates in Latin America. Most murders go unsolved. The poor neighborhoods that cover the hills around Caracas are very dangerous.(I have walked those ranchito-filled hills and totally agree.) These areas are seldom patrolled by police and should be avoided. Armed robberies are common in urban and tourist areas throughout Venezuela. Crimes committed against travelers are usually money-oriented crimes, such as theft and armed robbery. Incidents occur during daylight hours as well as at night. Many criminals are armed with guns or knives and will use force. Jewelry attracts the attention of thieves. Travelers are advised to leave jewelry items, especially expensive-looking wristwatches, at home.

I've been pondering the invitation to a wedding in Caracas in December.

I lived in Venezuela for a time, but haven't been back in (ouch) twenty years. I keep in touch with friends there and have heard of the problems they've been facing.

I'd really like to go...but I'm not sure it's a prudent course of action to take. It's not like I would blend down there, being green eyed and blond. I might be able to pass as far as language goes, but that would be about it.

Oh well.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Saturday Swim

This morning I took my two youngest to the YMCA pool, along with two of their friends. It was fun for the girls. Allison is a little fish in the water. Nothing frightens her and she goes underwater with great ease.

Ashley is another story. While my littlest angel loves the water, she really hasn't gotten the hang of swimming yet. I'm not sure that she ever will be a great swimmer, but I'd certainly like it if she could be taught to keep herself above water for a period of time. Right now it's a bit dangerous for her if she can't touch bottom with her feet.

The Y has two water slides, one small and one very tall. They opened the small red one for a bit and I caught Ashley each time she came down. Then they opened the blue one. This one required climbing a lot of stairs. Ashley climbed up, so excited to be going down the big slide.

The lifeguard at the top sent her back down, telling her she had to pass the swimming test before she could go on the blue slide. I took another lifeguard aside and explained Ashley's condition to her. Then Ashley 'took' the test. She had to swim across the width of the pool by herself. I kept a hand under her tummy as she splashed her way across and passed the test. She was SOOOO thrilled to have passed the test. You'd have thought the lottery had been bestowed upon her.

She then proceeded to climb the stairs back up to the top of the big blue slide. I anxiously waited for her to come sliding out through the bottom opening. She never arrived. I finally saw her dejectedly coming back down. At first I'd thought the lifeguard up there had turned her away again. I'm not saying my hackles rose...but I was not feeling too pleased.

I yelled up to ask what had happened and the guard yelled back down that Ashley had gotten scared and changed her mind.

Poor thing came over to me, dropped into the pool and buried her face in my neck crying. I hugged and hugged and kissed and kissed her. I told her about the time I'd climbed a high dive ladder only to get an attack of nerves at the very top, and making everyone on the ladder behind me climb back down so I could get off the thing. I told her it was a good thing it was just stairs to come back down and that everyone gets scared sometimes.

I think on Monday I'm going to call the Children's Therapy Unit and see about getting her into some swim lessons for special needs children. We were going to do that before we moved, but I think now is a good a time as any to see if we can't get her swimming ability up a bit higher.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Death Valley Doesn't Have Anything On Me

I have something to confess, and it doesn’t involve illicit relations with Cheetos, over-consumption of chocolate (I’m saving that one for later), or my days as a mole in the CIA. No, this unburdening of my soul regards feet.

I can’t stand them. I dislike them so much that I can hardly bear to touch my very own feet, let alone the feet of any other human being. I like putting the tops of my feet on my husbands feet, but other than that, don’t ask me to touch anyone’s feet. Baby feet aren’t considered ‘feet’, for purposes of this column. They’re brand spanking new, corn-free and uber soft. I love those. It’s the larger, older feet that I have trouble dealing with.

This brings me to today. I did something today that I’ve never, ever, in all my many years walking upon this earth, done.

I got a pedicure.

Everyone has told me how relaxing a pedicure is and how much they love getting one and how much they thought I should do it. I love it when my wonderful husband, lotion in hand, rubs my feet at the end of a particularly brutal day in the Parenting Trenches. Nothing is more soothing.

As I was walking the mall I noticed a place that advertised pedicures for twenty dollars. It didn’t seem to be that much and my feet were in very bad shape, so in I went. The shop was teeming with pretty Vietnamese girls wearing white smocks and chattering away in their native tongue. I know this only because I’ve had a Vietnamese stalker since I was fourteen and I recognize the language.

I was directed, mostly by hand gestures, to sit in a chair with a foot bath attached. Hot water (and I do mean HOT water) was piped into the foot bath where my tender tootsies were placed. I winced and said the water was too hot.

“Ye, berry hoh”

I should have known right then that I was in trouble. I spent the next half an hour having nails clipped, and what appeared to be industrial strength sandpaper slid across the tender and not so tender areas of my feet.

“Berry much dry kin”

I nodded. Yes, my feet were very dry. The skin was dry and horrible. I knew that. It was one of the reasons I came in to have a pedicure. I apologized for the state of my feet.

“Berry much dry kin”

This phrase was repeated many times, accompanied by pointing at the objects of her displeasure. Apparently the industrial sandpaper wasn’t’ strong enough, so she left and went into the back room for a rather large block of something that looked like it’s primary purpose might be to remove spines from porcupines. I then received the scouring of my life.

“Much dry kin”

Rub, frown, repeat.

“Berry dry”

Yes, they are the Sahara of feet. I should be too ashamed to walk on them. Cactus are velvet compared to my feet. Every time she told me how bad my feet were, I apologized. Yes, yes. I’m sorry for bringing these disgusting feet into your shop. I’m ashamed. Forgive me. What was I thinking, asking for a pedicure? I should have known better.

Tsk tsk. “Rots of dry kin”

When she was done lamenting the state of my arches and heels, she poured oily substances over my toes and worked it in up to my shins. Ah, that was better. No more sandpaper, just a massage with oil. This was more like it!

Then she pushed one foot back into the hot water and peered closely at the other one as if searching for an oasis in a vast drought-plagued land. She looked up at me for an apology.

“You know berry dry?”

Why no, that hadn’t been pointed out to me before. Dry? Goodness, how did that happen?

She held out the bottle of oil that she’d poured over my very objectionable feet and I think she said I should use it on my feet.

I forgot to ask if it was 30 or 40 wt.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Blog Gods Were Displeased

I log on to blog and realize I am rendered incommunicado by the Blog Gods. So, I sit and type into a word processing thingy to past over there later.

I did the pool/gym thing this morning for the first time in four days. Back was still trying to kill me, but I managed. I felt better afterwards, which is why I keep going in the first place. If I don't go, then chances are my days of walking this third rock from the sun are numbered. We can't have that, as too many little people are depending upon me.

Then I went to Costco and spend an unmentionable amount of dinero. I'd say it's not my fault but it was me pushing the cart and piling things into it. I bought everyone a new beach towel as well since the ones we have are years old and are becoming less towel and more just threads still managing to hang it together for whatever reason. I hope the kids like them. Suffice it to say, we're good in the food department until at least tomorrow. Earlier if my son brings several of his eating-machine friends over to jump on the trampoline.

Did I forget to mention here that we bought a trampoline a few weeks ago? If so, sorry. It's up and getting lots of use in our backyard. The kids love, love, love it. On the weekends, number one son has crawled into a sleeping bag and slept on it. Three of his buddies were with him. In separate sleeping bags of course. It still gets cold here at night, so I applaud their initiative, if not their brains.

Yesterday my spinal column was doing it's best to kill me so I took a pill. One tiny little pill. It completely knocked me flat. I couldn't stay awake to save my life. I hate that feeling. So groggy and no good for anything. I wish they could make medicine that works to take away the constant pain and still lets you function on a semi-coherent level. (Yes, I know, even without the pills I often don't make sense, but that's why you love me)

I've been calculating distances and gas prices for our planned road trip this summer. It's a good thing I don't drink or I' know. Drink. We just had to buy the biggest gas guzzler on the planet. Gaaaaa. I should know better than to go shopping when I don't feel well and just want to get it over with.

"Hey honey! Look at that beauty!"
"Ok, get it."
"It's so shiny! "
"Yes, it's lovely, just buy it so we can go home"

So, we're planning on being at my in-laws home in Las Vegas on Friday July 7 and staying until they get so sick of us they pay us to leave. Great plan, eh? I'm not sure how long their good will is good for, but I know I want to stay at least four or more days. The pool there is so much fun and the kids love being there with their grandparents. I bet they'll be happy to know that they won't have to do the school clothes shopping thing with us this summer. We're happy too.

I really want hubby to join us down there for the weekend (he can't take more time off because he doesn't have vacation time accrued at work just yet), but he's making noises about staying here because he doesn't want to pay for a flight.....I must convince him to come. He really needs a bit of a break. Plus, it won't be the same to be in LV without him.

Finally Blogdom has been fixed.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Hawaiian Luau Time

This morning there was a breakfast at my girl's school for all the parents that have volunteered over the course of the year. The theme for today was hawaiian luau, so everyone dressed in colorful shirts, or skirts, with flowers in their hair and leis around their necks. It was a lovely breakfast and later the principle led all the teachers up front to put on a hula for us. Very cute.

I forgot my camera and my cell camera has given up the ghost.

You'll be happy to know that I found my keys. Well, hubby found them actually. They were in my purse. Not sure how that happened. At any rate, I was able to go to the breakfast with my girls.

All the children and the majority of adults were wearing flip flops on their feet. Ashley decided that she was going to wear them as well. The problem is, she can't walk in them. She can't keep them on her feet and her walk deteriorates into a sort of stumbling shuffle. It hurt to watch her keep trying, but I couldn't say anything to her Everyone else was wearing them, so she wasn't going to be the only one left out of wearing pretty colored flip flops.

Sometimes I just get this wrenching in my heart over her. Yes, I know that not being able to wear flip flops in the summer isn't akin to dying of cancer or losing a limb. I'm totally aware that there are much worse things to have happen.

It's just...sometimes it hurts to see her struggling with something all her peers take for granted. My heart just hurts.

Her teacher (a wonderful lady!) came up to me today to talk about the upcoming field trip for the class. On Monday they are walking to a fire station in Graham. It's a far distance away, with a rather large hill to climb. She said that she was going to drive and wanted to take Ashley with her, but didn't want to single her out. She's going to ask Ashley to be the food monitor (be in charge of the lunch sacks) for the day, and so she will have to ride in the car with the lunches. I thought that sounded like a really good idea. It gives her an important job, she's going to be riding in a car with her teacher (all great perks) and she won't have to walk that distance and come in last.

Summertime is always a bit difficult with Ash in that she refuses to wear her leg brace. It's hot out, it's more visible to other people because it's not hidden behind long jeans any more and the fact that she wears it less and less means that her gait worsens and her foot turns in more. It's more difficult to stretch her out at night before bedtime and in the morning before school.

I've rambled on here more than I intended. chalk it up to the passion fruit juice I had at the luau this morning. Mmmmmmmm....that was yummy.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Letter of the day B

I was given the task of naming ten things that begin with the letter B, as they pertain to my life.

Beauty is something I try to see in the little things that surround me in my daily life.

Blessings are something I have in abundance.

Beasts, of which I have four. One doggie and three cats.

Bravery, as seen on a daily basis in the life of my youngest child.

Bottomless, in that my teenage son is a never ending pit of hunger.

Brilliant,as describes my children in their ability to play their daddy :grin:

Bubble Baths are one of my favorite evening delights. Lighted candles surround the tub, hot hot water and some soothing music.

Bed, where I love to snuggle with my babies.

Broken, what I wouldn't become when life has tried to beat me down.

Best is what's ahead for me and my family.


Keys are important. Uber important. I seem to have lost mine.

Now, I wouldn't really worry, except that I do something not so brainy with my keys. I have a little wallet type thingy attached to my keys that contain my drivers license, and all my credit cards, gym membership card and my library card.

Someone could be checking out books at this very moment with my library card!
And lest you think that some morally challenged idiot, finding himself/herself in possesion of a purloined library card would be too dense to use it, think again.

My eldest lost hers and it was promptly used by some degenerate to check out nearly a hundred dollars worth of books and dvds from our local biblioteca. You do not want to know what the fines for those things are.

So....what to do. Worry about over due book charges? Furrow my brow over the loss of everything in my bank account? Or dig around the house a bit more to see where my keys might be hiding.

Searching the house would be more promising if it were messy, but it's spotless. I can't think of where they could be.

In the meantime I am unable to run errands to get some chicken for the barbie tonight or buy my friend Jenny a belated birthday present or (most important of all) drag my son to get his blond locks chopped off.

I'm stranded.



Suicide, haircuts, and postponing decicions

The night after the big party at our house, a nearly full can of rootbeer jumped to it's death from our dresser around midnight. I heard it go and then there was the hiss of the pop escaping the can and soaking into our carpeting.

I was not pleased.

We'd gone through the house with a trash bag after the party collecting empty cans of pop, full cans of pop, half full cups of punch and numerous plates from full to empty. I thought we'd collected it all...but apparently we missed this one can.

It's suicide leap wasn't without help of course. The cats helped it along and then dropped to the floor to see what it tasted like.

Dang cats.

My son's hair is very long. We've been discussing the merits of being able to see, vs not being able to see when you're...oh, say, riding your dirtbike around hills and trees. Dirtbiking is his new passion, as you can see below. He's the one on the left. The one with too much hair in his eyes.

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So he comes to us at ten the other night declaring that he wanted a haircut. Now. Right this very minute. He was ready. Let's go. C'mon.

As his parental units, we both looked at the clock, looked at each other, looked back at the clock and then stood there dumbfounded. We informed him that it was indeed a good and wise decision, however since we weren't living in Las Vegas where you can get anything you want anytime you want, his sudden urge to cut his hair would have to wait until tomorrow.

Of course when tomorrow came, the urge had passed.

Monday, June 05, 2006


Strange, strange chickens. Hens, to be exact.

You know you've fallen low when you click on a link to a live webcam to watch Hens in England.

It's not so much that I've fallen low, it's that I can't stop clicking on things. It's bound to come up as some sort of disease in the medical journals sometime soon. Link Clickers are not responsible for their behaviors.


I watch (as most of you know) two little boys each day while their mom goes off to work in real estate. I love these boys as though they were my very own, and I like to think that they love me in return.

Daniel, the older of the two, is always saying things that cause me to laugh. Today, as he pulled one of a number of long hairs out of my carpeting upstairs, he said, "Miss Pam, your house is old"

Me: "No honey, it's only two years old, That's not old yet"
Daniel: "Yes it is. Your house is old because it has hair now!"

The other day, as I was working in the kitchen, he came up behind me and told me the following:

Daniel: "Miss Pam, I want to go over to Olivia's house and play doctor with her"

At this point I was greatly relieved that my back was to him. Without turning around, and without too much laughter in my voice, I asked him to repeat his request. He did.

Me: (still with my back turned) Honey, What do you mean by playing doctor?
Daniel: "You know, Miss Pam! I want to play the doctor game! My mom said I could!"

At this point I am laughing so I turn around to look at him and find that he is holding the game Operation in his innocent little hands. I nearly fell over with relief.

Some Pictures

Taylor was the object of much adoration here yesterday. This was taken upstairs in our bedroom. My two girls, Ashley and Allison, my sister's two girls, Nicole and Jessica, are admiring little Taylor.

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The angel of the hour, Taylor Christine. She slept like..well, a baby, through her blessing. She was wearing such an adorable white dress with a lovely white bonnet. I didn't think to take a picture of her then.

After the family and friends departed, our kitten came out from hiding to play with Ashley.

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Pink Depression Glassware and My Mother

My mother would have loved yesterday. Family gatherings were what fed her heart and soul. She's been gone for four years now. It hardly seems possible.

The walls of my home were bursting with family yesterday. On mother's day, my great niece Taylor Christine was born. Yesterday, circled about by her great-grandfather, her grandfather on both sides, her father and some uncles, she was given a name and a blessing. Afterwards everyone came to our house for a brunch.

I felt the empty spot where my mother should have been, so I carefully removed the one pink depression glass plate that I have from my china cabinet and filled it with the bannana bread I'd made from her special recipe.

I placed the plate on the dessert table in our dining room, amongst the cupcakes, cheese cakes, and a lovely black cherry chocolate cake.

Mom collected pink depression glassware, which as the name implies, was manufactured and sold during the depression to bring some color and cheer into otherwise gloomy homes. Mom was an avid collector, and my father still has every piece at home, most on display behind the glass doors of the two built-in display cases at his home. They are beautiful reminders of a beautiful woman who fiercly loved her family.

As I hand washed the empty pink plate last night, I felt my mother close by. Perhaps she was at the party after all.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

I Should Be Cleaning

But I'm not. I'm only human. Well, partly human. Sometimes.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Be careful what you offer...

My beautiful great-niece Taylor is being blessed this Sunday. I offered my house for the after-blessing festivities.

My offer was accepted.

Apparently there will be forty to fifty people arriving on my doorstep around 11 or so, Sunday. At first I'd offered to do all the food. However, when it was brought to my attention that there would be such a flood of humanity arriving at our home, saner heads intervened and decided this would be best worked out as a potluck of sorts.

Now all I have to do is to clean my house top to bottom because most of the people coming haven't been here before and tours of every nook and cranny will be the order of the day. I spent the day very nearly cleaning my kitchen top to bottom with a toothbrush and magnifying glass making my kitchen presentable and then using q-tips to hunt down any rogue dust motes doing general cleaning up around the downstairs.

Oh yes, tomorrow is going to be even more fun. Stay tuned for details.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

She's Something...

Most of you know that I've got four children. My eldest is seventeen.

Oh did that happen? Wasn't I just seventeen the other day? I'm sure I was....

Well, she's amazing. I know the majority of mothers have very high compliments to pay their children--and rightly so. However, my baby girl is astounding by anyone's standards.

She is going to high school and college at the same time. In high school she's taking mostly AP (Advanced Placement) classes, which also count for college credits. She gets up at five a.m. every morning, goes to Seminary, then goes to school, she works four hours daily as an office manager at Winderemere Real Estate. She speaks Spanish, plays piano, guitar and flute. She goes to the gym daily and it shows.

This was her yesterday.

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This is a picture I just took of her, after getting her braces put on.
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Now, having said that she is gifted and talented, I should ammend this post to tell you the following.

She just got home from having her braces put on and she's hungry.

Me: "I bought some yogurt, it's in the frig"
Her: (semi-whiny voice) "I'll be eating yogurt all week when it starts to hurt!
I don't WANT yogurt right now!"
Me: "Oooooh-kay. How about some pasta?"
Her: "We don't HAVE any!"

She went off in search of something edible and non-yogurty. She found a California Kitchen frozen pizza in the freezer.

Her: "Mooooom! Can I make this pizza?"
Me: "Yes"
Her: "Will you do it for me?"
Me: "No."
Her: "mooooom, I don't know how to cook it!"
Me: (running low on patience and speaking very slowly to maximize understanding)
"Take it out of the cardboard box. Remove the plastic from around the pizza. Read the box to find out what temperature to cook the pizza at. Turn oven on. When the oven is heated up, put the pizza IN the oven on the rack"
Her: "I can't do that!"
Me: "Yes, you actually can"

A bit later she says she can't put the pizza IN the oven. Will I do it for her?

Her: "Why does it go on the rack and not on a cookie sheet?"
Me: "I don't know, that's just what the directions say"
Her: "Mooooom, I can't! Please do it for me!"
Me: "Honey, when you go away to college next year, I'm sure you will be called upon
to bake a pizza. You will need to know how to do this all on your very own"
Her: "I won't buy a frickin' pizza that isn't cooked on a cookie sheet!"

Ah yes. The light of my life. Just baked a pizza. I'm ever so proud.