From the mouth of babes

I was giving a bridal shower. I was going to play the game where you put a bunch of items having to do with the honeymoon into a purse. Then someone "accidentally" trips coming into the room, spilling out the contents of the purse. They make a big production putting the stuff back into their purse and then you pass out a pencil and paper having everyone write down as many items they remember having seen from the purse.

Anyway, I was getting the items for the purse ready. We had decided not to be too risky but had enough stuff in the purse to be fun and embarrass the bride a little. I had been able to get everything safely in the purse except the last item before my 11-year old daughter came into the kitchen. "Why are you putting hand-cuffs in your purse, mom?" she had asked.

Oops. "It's for a game." I told her truthfully. "It's something they won't expect to be inside a purse, so it will be funny." That part was mostly true. I figured that was a good enough explanation. I had people arriving any minute and I didn't want to get into That conversation with my eleven year old right then.

"That is funny?" She had asked, not believing me. "I don't want to grow up then, if it means I'll have to lose my sense of humor." she had said disgustedly as she left the room.

525,600 Minutes

My husband and I were driving in the car the other day. "It's trash pick up tomorrow." He said. Yup. It's amazing that our existence has been reduced to measuring our life by events such as garbage day. In fact, growing up, I don't think I even knew that there was a specific day of the week that we got our trash picked up. Now sometimes I will watch out the window when the garbage men take my trash away. Silently doing a victory dance. Yesss! I don't know why, but in the back of my mind, I have an irrational fear that they will take one look at my trash and say "EEWWWW! We aren't going to take that!" And i'll be stuck with a never ending tower of trash. So, for me, trash day is always an exciting day!

It reminds me of the song from Rent...525,600 minutes, how do you measure your life? 52 trash pick-ups, 2 dentist appointments, a trip to the eye doctor...How do you measure a year in the life?

Typical Heather. Practicing her flute with proper accessories.

The Book of Secrets

Teenagers are like a large book with a lock on it. Inside, the book is filled with the rules needed to unlock the secrets to teenagers. The rules are very complex with many exceptions and clauses and must be decoded and then translated before the book can be read. The problem with this book is that the combination to the lock and all the rules inside, change every day. So, if you do happen to figure out how to unlock the book, everything will change by the next day, and you have to start all over.

Where am I?

I am not good with directions. Never have been, most likely never will be. In fact, whenever I go anywhere (even locally) I tend to give myself an extra buffer of time to allow for getting lost (i.e. if I find myself in Pennsylvania I have gone too far).

Last week my husband dropped 2 of our kids off at Penn state music camp. He then started asking them if they knew which way was north and that they needed to get themselves oriented to the campus. My daughter Heather immediately told him that the day he married me he lost all rights and expectations for his children to have any navigational sense whatsoever. Sad, but true.

The first night, Heather called and said that she had been walking around for a while and couldn't find her dorm room. She said that they all looked a like and so far her pass card hadn't worked on any of them yet. So, the next night when we called to see if she had found her dorm okay, she sounded offended that we would ask--implying that she couldn't find her room! Huh!

During the week she ended up in a saxophone master class (she plays violin and flute) but she was too embarrassed to leave and go to the right class. I told her that everyone there probably knew she didn't play saxophone. She said, "I know, but they were too polite to say anything." She also ended up in the wrong conducting class.

Nicholas didn't fare any better. He wasn't able to find his jazz band sectional and ended up in a rhythm class which he enjoyed so much he ended up going back the next day as well. He also sat in an empty class room for 15 minutes before a search party was sent out and he was taken to the right class...

I guess we all have to find ways to live with our handicaps...they will have to either learn how to read a map, ask for directions or do what I do--leave early enough to get lost and still get to where I am going on time...

For a talent show, my family played a medley of 70's songs--YMCA, Staying Alive, etc. and I found some really fun clothes at the Goodwill for us to wear. Brian thinks this picture makes him look like a pimp, but I like it--it's groovy.

Sorry, I don't do windows

Have you ever noticed that slowly you start doing chores that didn't used to belong to you? One day it hit me as I was taking my husband's car to get his oil changed that he was good. Not only did I not realize that he had turned over the job of getting the cars serviced to me, he did it without my even realizing it!

Last week, a friend came over and I apologized for it being so dark in living room. She asked why I didn't just change the light bulb. The way she put it, it made it seem so simple. Because, I said, once I start changing the light bulbs, it will become my job. Not just the easy ones in the living room, but also the difficult ones outside that require screw drivers and a ladder. I have to draw the line somewhere, right? She just rolled her eyes, took a light bulb from the cupboard and changed it. Now, she said, that wasn't so bad, was it? I told her that no, it wasn't and could she take the trash out now that she was done.

Glistening, fact or fiction

So, I went running later in the day than usual and it was really hot. I got home and my face was bright red and I was soaking wet. My hair was plastered to my head and I was literally dripping in sweat. Not a pretty picture, eh? I wondered to myself if this could be referred to as "glistening?" I think when I was born, instead of a glistening gene, I was given an extra fat, overactive, sweat gland...do people even glisten nowadays, really?

Angel and Bert

The cats used to sit at the back door and wait to be let outside. My husband thought it would be "cute" if he gave them a way to ask to go out. So, now our cat angel taps us on the arm whenever he wants to go out. Sure, that's great, but my husband is at work all day, so I am left at home with a cat, who every time I sit down, is tapping me on the arm...

The other trick the cats can do is jump. For big, fat cats, they can jump fairly high. My husband had been thinking that since they can ask to go outside, he would teach them to jump and hit the doorbell to come back in. Luckily, I saw the huge flaw in this plan and got him to stop before introducing the cats to the doorbell. I had nightmares of the neighbors calling me, "Uh, could you PLEASE get your cats to stop ringing my doorbell???" and when that didn't work, "If your cats ring my doorbell one more time, I'm gonna call the police..."

Prosac or Pepsi

I'm convinced that the new question for this is generation is no longer paper or plastic, but Pepsi or prosac. If you don't need either of these to survive then I yield to your super powers. I discovered Dr Pepper about 3 years ago and I will never go back. I actually asked (begged) my doctor to hook me up to an IV so I could get continuous Dr pepper ...he said no, but that after the blood tests I did need thyroid medication--which might help. And it did. I tell my kids that Dr pepper is mommy's medicine and they aren't allowed to drink any. When they grow up and actually have a life busy/stressful enough to deserve the caffeine, they can make the decision to drink it themselves!

Life without Television

Surprisingly enough, life goes on. After I finally bit the bullet and made the call to disconnect the dish, I expected the kids to rise up against me in protest and possibly throw small objects at me whenever I entered the room. Actually 3 of my 4 kids have yet to even comment on the tv being turned off, and it has been since last year. Every once in a while, the youngest, age 11, will insist on going to a friend's house to get a tv fix. She will come home and I will ask if she has been made whole and now able to make it through the week. She will usually just shrug and say, "Naw, it was all just re-runs anyway."

Reincarnation Theory

Have you ever wondered why sometimes you feel deep unexplained connections to certain things? There are some plants and animals that I seem to have such an affinity for and for a lack of a better way to explain, a pull towards. For example, take the llama. I actually get tears in my eyes when I see a llama. No logical reason. Also, there are these green metallic bugs which I have seen and I was so fascinated with that I couldn't believe it. They are called "Calosoma Scrutator Fabricus" or Caterpillar Hunters. Okay, so the point of my theory. We are drawn to animals/plants that we were in previous lives. Crazy, but it makes sense. Why else am I drawn to certain animals with such an intensity? And on the flip side, negative experiences we had in previous lives affect us as well, in relation to how we react to our environment. I, for example, have an unhealthy dislike for dandelions. Is this natural? I think not. I can't begin to imagine what may have happened to bring this on...

So, this would be a great theory--it explains a lot of my strange behaviors...except that I don't believe in reincarnation. Rats.

Children and chores

When did kids get lazy? More specifically, when did MY kids get so lazy??? During the school year I was more than happy to let them get away without having assigned chores since they practiced at least 2 instruments each and had honors classes with homework to do every night. But seeing them this summer lying on the couch reading all day, I can definitely see that somewhere, something has gone very wrong. I hate to admit that it is probably my fault. Hmmm. So, now I will pay for it all summer long, having to listen to my kids complain about being forced to do chores. Ahh, the circle of life. I guess my only consolation is that someday they will have the joy of listening to their own children complain about doing housework and how unfair life is...

Does it make me a bad person if...

• the day I found out that indoor cats live 2x longer than outdoor cats, i started letting the cats outside?
• i sleep on the side of the bed farthest from the door, so if an intruder comes in, he will get to me last?
• i take all the good chunks from the ice cream for myself?
• i use other peoples razors if they are left in the shower?
• i let the gas in my car get really low, then take my husband's car so he will have to fill my car up for me?
• i peek during the prayer?

Anna is 11 and in sixth grade. She plays the sax, trombone and piano. She loves being the baby in the family. She is our cat whisperer and wants to be an owl trainer when she grows up.

Heather is 15 years old and a sophomore in high school. She plays the violin and flute. This is a picture of her at a spring dance in a sparkly orange dress.
Nicholas is 14 years old. He is a freshman and plays the cornet, drums, guitar, piano, and other assorted instruments. He just finished his eagle scout project and is working on the paper work. This is a picture of Nicholas' band Yittrium. They are awesome!

Sarah--16 years old! She's got her driver's license, she's a percussionist, and a junior in high school.

I think it was Erma Bombeck who said:

"My second favorite household chore is ironing.
My first, hitting my head on the top bunk until I faint."

Personally, I prefer cleaning toilets...

Some boys in my ward came up with a curse: May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits. I thought it was funny, but I prefer to change it around and use it as a blessing; So, to you and yours, from the Wardell brothers and myself:

May the fleas of a thousand camels never infest your armpits.

What did you just say?

So, I read that 55% of the impressions we make on other people are based on our appearance and our body language; 38% on our speaking style; and only 7% on what we actually say. Huh! So, does that basically mean that it doesn't really matter what I say, as long as I look good saying it???