Gotta love it.

I finally got around to cleaning out my refrigerator. It was long overdue, and it was disgusting. I had a great system, as I started cleaning it: If I didn't know what was in the container, I threw it away. I didn't need to look inside---didn't need those images stuck in my head. Tupperware is too cheap to have to endure that.

Anyway, I was getting along fine. I had filled up one garbage can and was working on another one, when all of a sudden my cat came flying out of no where and jumped right into the garbage bag. This isn't an ordinary cat, by the way. He thinks he's more of a dog and eats anything. Literally, we've caught him eating raw, hard spaghetti noodles, Doritos, cheese, bread...

I finally pulled him out of the garbage, and he had chicken casserole hanging out of his mouth. He was desperate to get back inside the trash bag. I ended up having to get my kids to come in and restrain the cat while I quickly bagged up the trash and took it outside.

And I wonder why I don't clean out my fridge more often? Hmmm, I wonder. I'm still trying to recover.

Seriously?

I have 900 pounds of hard red wheat in my living room. No, really, I do. It is piled up in bags next to the front door along the entire wall. After hauling it off the truck, into my car and home, it was the best I could do. I didn't have the energy to drag the bags downstairs to the basement.

That was a week ago.

On Sunday, they had each family fill out a survey asking how prepared we felt we were. My husband was filling it out while I talked to the person next to me. "Hey," my husband asked me. "Did we participate in the group order to buy bulk food?"

It was all I could do to just look at him and not throw a hymnal. "Huh? Was he kidding?" He wasn't smiling, could he really not know? Had he not noticed THE NINE HUNDRED POUNDS OF WHEAT STACKED IN OUR LIVING ROOM?????

"Yes, we did," I replied as sweetly as I could.

First you must activate it!

I came home exhausted from running errands one day. Imagine my surprise to find dinner cooking and the dishwasher not only loaded, but running! "I even activated the dishwasher soap," my daughter came running into the kitchen, to inform me proudly.

I tried not to laugh. Let me explain. My husband was starting a load one day and the kids were watching. We had just switched over from using the messy dishwasher powder to the wonderful automatic tablets. Not wanting to disappoint his audience my husband unwrapped the small tablet and made a big production of licking it. (of course he only pretended to lick it)

This got the reaction he desired, all the kids squealed and were disgusted by him licking the soap before putting it into the dishwasher. "I'm activating it," he announced loudly, using an official voice.

"But doesn't it taste disgusting?" one of the kids asked. "It's not so bad anymore," he assured them, "you'll get used to it."

Many months had passed and I had forgotten about this, until coming home to my daughter's confession, that she had even "activated" the soap before starting the dishwasher.

"Really?" I asked, not believing her. Then she smiled, "Actually I licked my finger and wiped it, instead of licking it," she admitted.

This whole experience leaves me with a few questions. First, how can my kids believe even half the things their dad tells them. Second, why does their dad tell them such ridiculous things, anyway. And third, when should I tell them they don't need to activate the dishwasher tablets anymore...

What were they thinking!!!

I had to look twice to believe what I was seeing. I'd pulled up next to a car at a stoplight. It looked like a geo metro but it was like no geo metro I'd ever seen before...The top half was a black marbled color---can you say custom paint! The bottom half was swirled in red with what? I looked a third time. It had skulls in the swirls. It was incredibly complex and amazing...and it was a GEO METRO!

The light turned green and both of our cars stayed rooted to our spots. Mine, because I was so dumbfounded at the car next to me. His? Who knows---eventually the engine started revving and it slowly picked up speed, rattling and spluttering as it went.

For what the paint job had cost the guy, surely he could have bought a new muffler and some hub-caps, I thought to myself as I watched the car finally jerk to a start. A horn from behind me, reminded me that I too, needed to go. But what I really wanted to do was to follow that car!

If that's what his car looked like---man, I was curious to see what his HOUSE looked like. But I had to think WWHT (What Would my HUSBAND Think?) and I knew he would not think too highly if I had a restraining order or stalking complaint brought against me.

Rats, I thought as the other car turned off the road. Sadly, I watched it go, disappointed that I hadn't even gotten a picture of it...no one would ever believe me when I told them about the car I'd seen...

"Are you talking to me?"

Has it happened to you? Probably not. You aren't old like I am...It seems like every time I go anywhere, people are calling me ma'am or lady. I can't even remember when that started happening? I always turn around look to see if there is some old person behind me. For some strange reason, there never is. They are talking to me!

My first impluse is to smack the poor chap who called me ma'am, and inform him that "thank you" will suffice. But I always bite my tongue...not wanting to draw attention to myself. I can just see the headline..."Cranky old lady beats store clerk with purse..." So, I shuffle off to my car, head down in shame and humilation.

I am the first to admit that I'm not getting any younger. I am fully aware the the clock is ticking every second of every minute of every hour of every...okay so you see that I understand how time works. But in my next breath, I will also tell you that I don't feel any older. I still feel like a young "whipper-snapper," if you'll allow me to use the expression.

In my mind (however delusional), I'm stuck as a seventeen year old. And basically the teenager inside of me, resents being called ma'am, regardless of how polite it may be intended. There is no way I can simply smile and nod. It isn't going to happen. I think I'm going to need to invest in a really sturdy cane for the duration of my aging process...and possibly find a good lawyer?

There is beauty all around, when there's love at home...

Back when the kids were little they fought all the time. In fact, some days I wondered if I should just spray paint WWF on the front of our house and charge admission. Okay, maybe comparing my kids to WWF is a little misleading. At our house, all the fighting was real---none of that faking it stuff.

Now that the kids are older, however, they rarely fight. Of course they have their moments, with smart alek comments and petty disagreements. But overall the kids hardly ever fight. In fact, I can't even remember the last time they came to blows. Can you see where this is headed?

This morning I was driving the kids to church. The roads were literally a sheet of ice. I'm not a great driver on a good day, and add ice----it's not a good combination. So we were inching along very slowly. I'd already slid through one intersection, horn blaring. Not even getting a chance to recover from almost hitting an on-coming car, I slid into someone's yard.

"Next time slide to stay on the road," my son instructed. He was sitting next to me in the front seat. My older daughter in the back seat took offense to his criticism and started yelling at him that I couldn't very well choose which way I was going to slide. He hit her, she hit him back and before I knew it, he flew over the top of the seat and they were going at it full force.

It was way more than I could handle. They might as well have put me on the edge of a cliff and pushed me over. So, I pulled out my cell phone and did what any rational person would do. I called my husband and started crying.

Sometimes it's nice to have someone who can make things all better. He told me to turn around and go back home. Which was obvious, but hadn't occurred to me...he called and made arrangements for my Sunday school lesson for me, as I turned the car around and crept back home.

So we're home now safe and sound. I won't have to prepare a lesson for next week--I can use the one I had for today. The kids feel pretty bad about how they acted, so I can probably count on them to volunteer to make dinner for the next week or so. Life is pretty good.

Vascular land plants came about during the Silurian Period 480 Million years ago---in the Paleozoic Era...

This morning I came downstairs to find my daughter busily writing away. "I'm writing down the history of the world!" she informed me. We definitely needed to get out more. We've been cooped up inside way too long. The kids have been home from school most the week with snow days and apparently they were starting to crack.

Moving closer, she had actually constructed a time-line and was making a detailed account of all the different periods and eras (by memory)..."Get dressed," I informed her, making an executive decision. We were going to the mall. We were going out. We'd reached rock bottom and we needed some stimulation. Not that history isn't fascinating, but before breakfast? Gimme a break.

We're back and I feel much better. We bought a movie and the girls are in the other room watching it. It's "Phantom of the Opera." I know it isn't action or adventure, but we are who we are, and at least my kids aren't still drawing the time-line...

And so it goes...

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I don't want to shock anyone, so maybe you should sit down. Are you ready? Life isn't fair. I know, it's a shocker. But it's true and I'm sorry you had to hear it from me.

It's worse when as a parent, you can't do anything, when life hands one of those priceless moments to your kids. The mom in me, goes into over-drive and I just want to make everything okay. Because the thing is: Life SHOULD be fair. I mean, that's only fair, right?

My kids found out yesterday that they didn't make it into All-State Band. It was a very upsetting and traumatic day for all of us. It was probably my fault that they were as upset as they were. I was so convinced that they would make it, that I over encouraged them and insisted that the auditions were just a mere formality. And they should have made it---that's the thing. They are good enough.

But what can I do? Nothing. I can complain and scream and rant and rave (already did that) and still nothing will change. I can tell my kids that they didn't want to be in that crummy band anyway. But the truth is, we---I mean they really did. And it hurts. And it isn't fair. But life goes on. And it will continue going on, not being fair. So, I guess that's the only part about life that's fair.

It's official

Heather and I went to the longest, most boring Harrison County Board of Education meeting EVER last night. We braved icy roads and cold weather and sat through two hours, where we were sure we would end up dying of complete and utter boredom. It was the meeting that would never end. And Heather's name was never mentioned once. Heather was so disappointed, I thought she was going to cry. But I was mad. There was no way I was going to sit though another one of those blasted meetings! I marched up to the podium.

"I thought my daughter was on the agenda tonight!" I declared. "Let me check," someone told me---"she could have been." What? I had just sat listening to every single word, I would've noticed. Unfortunately I hadn't fallen asleep at anytime during that painful meeting.

"Yep, she was approved, they just didn't mention her name," we were informed. So we left, very much relieved.

This means Heather will graduate from high school a year early. She and Sarah will graduate next year together. Wow, that's a lot to digest--two kids leaving home next year. It's too much to think about and process right now, so I won't.

Don't mess with Medusa!

Yesterday I picked up my daughter from school. I asked her about her day and if she had any homework--the usual stuff. She had an English assignment, then she started giggling---the way only a twelve year old can. "I have the best idea," she announced, anxious to get home and get started. That was a first.

A little while later, she handed me a piece of paper she'd been working on. "You do know the top half of your paper is blank, right?" I asked her. "Yep." She grinned, trying to contain her excitement. Somehow, I knew I was missing something.

"I'm supposed to draw a picture of Medusa," she told me. Yet the paper had no picture on it. "Okay." I waited for her explanation. She started giggling again: "I didn't want you to turn to stone, so I didn't draw the picture!" She laughed at her cleverness. Right.

"What if your teacher doesn't think your idea is as funny as we do?" I had to ask. I am the parent you know. And technically, she hadn't done the assignment. Her face fell. She honestly, hadn't considered the possibility. "Oh."

I suggested she draw a second picture to hand in after turning in the first one. (One that actually had the picture on it.) She liked the idea and went straight to work. A few minutes later, I heard her complaining. "Snakes are hard to draw." Then, "why couldn't she have something better growing on top of her head..." I tried not to smile. "Flowers," she announced. "I can draw flowers, why didn't she have flowers?"

Indeed! Not only was Medusa evil and mean for turning people to stone for looking at them, she was thoughtless for being so hard to draw! How rude! Anyway, with both her papers safely tucked into her backpack, she is anxious and ready for school this morning. In fact, she is the only one of my children, NOT hoping for a snow day.

It's show time!

We all handle stress differently. Why is that? My kids all had huge auditions this week. They all have the same genes, yet they all reacted completely different. I'm fairly confident we didn't raise them to have any more or less self-confidence than one or the other, I don't understand how they can be related but so NOT!

So, it has been a roller coaster ride of emotions this week, with all the auditions. I feel like I've been in a train wreck. But as long as the kids know they tried their best, it should be fine. As long as they realize they are loved for who they are and not how well they play, they should be even better. Yet, who knows what really goes on in their heads, they certainly don't tell me.

The jury is still out...

I finally did it. I was finally persuaded to join facebook. I think my sister Julie's exact words were, "Come on, everyone's doing it..." And I was the only one in my family not on, so it made me feel even more lame and out of the loop. So, I closed my eyes and took the big jump...actually, my sister Jenny called and walked me through each and every step of the sign-up process (yes, I'm that pathetic.)

My initial problem with facebook goes way back, in fact, you could say we have a history together. We had a problem with some of the youth in our ward and I guess I just envisioned it as Satan's playground. You know, where all the young'ens went to take drugs and have sex. Not literally, but, you know what I mean. Maybe I had the wrong impression, I'll admit---I may have been a tad old-fashioned in wanting to keep me and my family as far away from the evils of facebook as possible.

Now I know. Facebook isn't Babylon. But it does have a way of sucking people in and before you know it, you've wasted more time than you ever intended. Me? I don't have time to waste, yet, I enjoy touching base with friends I knew years ago (some I don't even remember I had!!!) So, it's a toss-up. Definitely not a bad thing, but we'll see...

Walk toward the light...

I was watching a training video on the computer the other day. One by one, all the kids wandered in, sat down, and watched mesmerized, eyes glued to the screen. Funny thing was, it was the most boring video ever! Yet, they seemed quite content to watch.

I think our little experiment of having no TV has a small flaw in it. Instead of teaching our children to become discerning, more conscious individuals, they are now desperate to watch anything. This happened again over Thanksgiving break when we went to Brian's parents house, where they sat completely transfixed over the dog show, which just happened to be on TV. Instead of changing the channel, they sat from beginning to end, never missing a moment of the riveting action...

At times like these, I feel like we've hit an all time low. But otherwise, when the kids are busy reading, practicing their instruments or doing other useful activities---other than sitting in front of the boob-tube, I am confident that we made the right decision to take television out of our lives.

The clock is ticking as the new year begins...

It's amazing how time flies! It seems like I just did this---stayed up late, eating junk food...Anyway, as I sit back and think about 2008, I wish I could go back and re-do one thing. It's really been bothering me, too. There's nothing worse than regret (and heartburn).

As you all know, we had a leap second added at midnight, New Year's Eve. A whole extra second---that we were free to do with, whatever we wanted! I mean, I could've really let loose and done something crazy! Or not. I could've used it to better mankind!

Hence, the regret. I knew about it. I anticipated it. I waited for it. Then I got reading a book and before I knew it, it was gone. You'd think someone would have had the decency to add an extra second to the countdown to remind me: 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 ONE Happy New Year!!!

At about five minutes after midnight, my husband leaned over and said, "Hey, Happy New Year!" I poked my head out of my book---"Right, Happy New Year," and gave him a kiss. I'm a real party animal.

But I missed my chance. I had an extra second handed to me and I let it pass me by. Maybe if it had been an extra minute or an extra leap hour---I could've used it for something important. I just feel cheated and a little disappointed. But hey, happy New Year and I hope you all used your leap second more productively than I did.