Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Words from beyond the grave....

Ok, not really. It just feels like that to me right now. I did finally go to the doc and I have lots of medicine to take, some of which are making me feel worse and some of which render me unconscious. I'm rather liking that part.

At any rate, it's been a while since I've updated here on a personal note and not just my columns. We found a home for the two kittens, Tuna and Buttercup. We miss them horribly and here's the girls holding them before I took them off to meet their new human. I negotiated visitation rights with the man, and he promised to send pictures via email.

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This is the one I'm missing the most. The girls named him Tuna. He would lay in my arms for hours, like a baby, and sleep. His fur was the softest thing to my skin.

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Last week the girls had an art show at their school. Here's Ashley with her masterpiece.
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And Allison with hers.
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In other, wonderful news. The Girl has been accepted to BYU and will be leaving us in late August. She has also garnered a scholarship for herself which may be a full ride. We find out more in a few weeks. She also got a job at See's Candies and will soon be sporting a lovely white dress with a rather large bow. She is not amused, but is happy to be once again among the employed.

The Boy has managed to stay alive and intact, despite spending time at Snoqualmie Falls, as shown here. That's him inside a huge tree.
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He spent last weekend up in Whistler B.C. doing that snowboarding thing and had a great time. He's a good kid.

Here is a pic Lance took of the falls this month when he went for a long drive by himself.
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I'll leave you with two views I see every morning as I drive The Teenagers to seminary at 6:15 a.m. Two views of Mt. Rainier.

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Oh yeah...I went a little blonder this month, in more ways than one. Here I am. Sorry, no smile. I was trying to see if I was getting me in my cell cam.
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And so, life goes on in our household....

Thursday, March 22, 2007

It's Snot Easy....

Today we're going to discuss Fun With Mucus and Nocturnal Animals. If you're squeamish, please continue reading. You know you want to. While you're at it, have someone take a picture of your face while you're reading and send it to me. I love making people happy.

Every morning I knowingly send my four offspring to seething petri dishes full of bacteria, otherwise known as school, where they exchange, trade and have recess with deadly strains of the cold and flu virus. It was only a matter of time until they engaged in biological warfare with my aged and compromised immune system.

I never stood a chance.

Last night, after ingesting near-lethal doses of Nyquil, I tried to sleep. Each time I lay horizontally, both nasal passages became hot rivers of slime, draining down my face and pooling on my pillow.

You know what happens next, right? C'mon. You've all done it at some point in your life. You wad up little pieces of tissue and plug the offending holes to staunch the flow of snot so you can sleep. Sure, you're going to be sleeping by breathing through your mouth, but you were going to do that anyway. It's not like you were able to use your nose as God intended tonight. Nasty little invasions of infection have made that impossible, so you go to plan B. Plan B means you have lost all dignity, and if you have a sleeping companion you are comfortable with, wads of tissue stuffed up your nose is your only option.

So first I blew, then I stuffed and lay down.

At first, all was well. The Nyquil was doing it's job of making me sleepy, and despite the Sahara desert sand that had taken up residence in my mouth, I slept.

It turned out that my sleeping companions were not as non-judgmental as I had previously thought, and objected to the wads of white tissue stuffed up my nose. I know this because they kept removing them during the night and racing off with them. At first I wasn't aware of what was happening, what with the Nyquil buzz I had going.

I sleep with three males and one female. One of the males is my husband, the other two are furry and four footed. Sleeping with just my husband is my intention, however during the night, the cats join us. They are the ones that didn't like the two improvised dams I'd created to stop the snot flow. I'm used to them sleeping on me, so their weight doesn't register and doesn't wake me up. When they pawed the wads from my nose, the lava flow began again in earnest. I restuffed. Four footed beasties returned, pawed them loose and raced off with them. I restuffed. I tried to bat them away when I felt them clawing at my face, but they always managed to yank out my tissue before I could stop them and jump off the bed before I could grab them back.
In the morning I discovered the disgusting wads of tissue all over the floor around my bed. It appears they were using them as toys during the night. I even found one downstairs. Heaven knows where I'll find the rest of them.

So let this be a lesson to all you faucet noses out there: Mucus and felines do not good bedfellows make, unless you like waking up to .............I'd like to come up with a funny ending, but it's snot coming to me.

Monday, March 19, 2007

I'm still alive

At least I think so. Sorry to have disappeared off the face of the earth for awhile. Life seems to have gotten the better of me lately. Things going on that don't bear talking about in public right now. In a little while maybe life on my blog will resume as semi-normal as it was before.

Unitl then, hugs and kisses to those who have called or emailed or commented and missed me. I miss you all too.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Dumb Blondes

“Hey Mom, can I take the suburban and go to the mall?”
“OK, just to the mall and that's all”
“No mom, I'm going to hijack the suburban and take it to California”
“You do know I have a Lojack on it, right?”
“The suburban has a GPA?”
“Yes Stephanie. Our suburban has a Grade Point Average”
“It does??”
“No, it has a GPS on it, not a GPA. I'm sure our suburban, lovely as it is, does not need a high GPA, unlike you. How's that going, by the way?”

At this point she falls over laughing at her own stupidity. She is blonde and realizes that sometimes it simply can't be helped. Her beauty is a curse and a blessing.

Last week I was forced to use her beauty to attract males. Yes, I shamelessly put my daughter out of our suburban, told her to stand there and look helpless. Not a difficult thing for her to do, as she was helpless. Our vehicle's battery had died and between us we have the car I.Q. Of a gnat. A gnat that has met a messy end on our windshield. Neither of us really knows much about what's under the hood except that it goes. Except this time, it didn't. Go, I mean.
Key in ignition, key turning, annoying clicking sound.

“Yeah honey, the battery is dead”
“Oh man, again?”
“Yeah. Ok, go lift up the hood and stand there.”
“I don't know how to get it going!”
“You won't need to honey. Trust me”
“What do you mean?”
“'re going to have guys falling all over you in about three seconds, begging you to let them help you”
“I will not!”
“Honey, trust me on this one”

So I pulled the hood lever to enable her to lift the hood, she pretended to look at the engine, then stood there, looking.....beautiful.

I swear, within 2.5 seconds, a man came dashing up to her.

“Do you need help” Oh please, oh please need help. Let me help you. Please oh please oh please.

“I think my battery is dead”

“Do you have jumper cables?” Oh please have jumper cables, oh please oh please oh please.

“No, I don't, do you?”

“Oh man...I don't. Um...listen, if you're still here when I get out of the store, we'll figure something out, ok?” Like you getting into my truck and both of us riding off into the sunset!

Within seconds of him walking off, another young man approached.

“Do you need help?” Oh please say yes, say yes say yes say yes!

“My battery is dead, do you have jumper cables?

“ I don't know. Hang on, ok? Don't go anywhere. I'll go look I might. I'll be right back, ok?” Oh please let dad have put jumper cables in the trunk, oh please let dad have put jumper cables in the trunk....oh please.

Not five more seconds pass, with my gorgeous blond eighteen year old standing beside the raised hood when two young guys come by in a car.

You can see their eyes pleading, Oh wow, does she need help? I should ask her if she needs help. Oh man...I...oh...dang it she's hot. I could never talk to her...but oh...I want to see if, you know, she needs help....
They don't stop, but they do drive by three times with that look in their eyes.

I'm beginning to think that there are no men left in the world that carry jumper cables, after numerous gentleman stop to ask her if she needs assistance but can't offer jumper cables.

Finally, a white pickup truck roars up to us and pulls in to us, head to head. A very kind, and very shy man, gets out, jumper cables in hand and proceeds to hook them up to the doohickeys that will start our suburban again. He never says a word. I can see him stealing glances at me, then at my daughter, then at me again. I thank him profusely, and he ducks his head in acknowledgment.

I turn they key, the engine roars to life. He unhooks things, gets into his truck and drives away, and my daughter gets back into the suburban beside me.

“That is the only time it is acceptable to ask a guy if he can jump you, do you understand me young lady?”


Maybe she's not so dumb after all.