Cat humor

If you've had a cat I think you'll find this as funny as I did. I used to have a cat that would lay on my chest while I was trying to sleep and claw me while purring and drooling on my face.

Deep thoughts

Remember when I said that jogging is a great time to just be one with nature, and lots of times I end up in prayer and deep thought? Well, yesterday I was having some deep thoughts of another type that had nothing to do with praying. I was wondering about the origination of swear words. I mean, who ever thought of those words, and how did they become taboo? And why are they so tempting to use? Did some caveman slam his finger with his club one day and shout out some random four letter nonsense sound and think, "Hey, me like that sound. That sound make Grog feel good release." So then Grog started to say it whenever he was mad or got hurt. Then one day, some other caveman heard Grog say it and they tried it too, and realized it felt good but sounded really bad in front of the other more sophisticated cavemen, so it became taboo. From there it spread like wildfire. Is that how it happened? And should I get my head checked out because I'm actually spending time wondering about these things?

Little loverboy

Me: "How many girls did you kiss at school today, Dario?"

Dario Jr: "None. I'm saving all my love for you."

awwwwwww

Love my man

Okay, amidst all my whining the other day, I forgot to mention something good. After I got out of the shower and was freaking out at my son opening up the presents under the tree, Dario quietly got the gifts and took them upstairs and re-wrapped them. That was really nice that I didn't have to do it. But what was even sweeter, was that he used the same ribbon that I had used and tried to make it fancy. I originally had spent quite some time in the closet wrapping these presents and putting ribbon and bows on them to make them look really nice. My husband is not a fancy ribbon type of guy, but he knew that I had taken the extra time, so he tried to recreate it. Little things like this make my heart melt. It wasn't just like mine, but I like it even more because I know that he did it to make me feel better. Here's a sampling of his work:

Also, speaking of my husband, every once in a while mine gets the inkling to bake something. The other day he said, "We should make bread." I said, "We?" I'm not that into baking, and bread is something that I don't even want to attempt. So today he decided to make bread, but then he ran into a recipe for cinnamon roles, so he changed his mind. I don't know if you all will find this nearly as endearing as I do, but I think it's cute as all heck to see my man if the kitchen kneading dough and studying a recipe book. The end result- not so pretty. Or tasty. But, I give you an "A" for effort, babe.

I'm okay now, kind of

Okay, after reading over my post from yesterday, I think I way overreacted. I feel kind of like the Taco Bell lady from Janssen's blog. So, to those of you who read yesterday's post and thought, "What a psycho", I just want to let you know that I'm slightly more sane today. Just slightly though. I'm still kind of cranky for some reason. So if anyone tries to give me free cinnastix today, I'm not promising there won't be a scene.

Ask me how my day is going. I dare you.

Because this is going to be a heckuva long rant!

I woke up this morning to a 62 degree house, even though the thermostat was set to 68. Was the heater on? Yes. Was there any heat coming out? No. Did I JUST HAVE MY FURNACES CHECKED LESS THAN A MONTH AGO TO MAKE SURE THIS CRUD WOULDN'T HAPPEN?? YES! So I called Sears and they were nice enough to tell me that they could have someone come out tomorrow between 8-5, and most likely charge me $100 to see what was the matter, unless it was determined by the repair guy whether or not it was their fault. Boy, I'm sure the repair guy would just JUMP at the chance to admit mistakes to his company so he could give me free service. Also, wasn't the $160 I paid them a couple weeks ago supposed to be for figuring out if there were any problems? And isn't anything that is wrong right now basically their fault because that is THE WHOLE REASON I HAD THEM COME OUT TO BEGIN WITH!?!? So Dario decided to get up into the attic and see if there was just a switch flipped or something. When he got up there he found the furnace covers off, wires exposed and all. Fine job this service technician did. So he put the covers back on and hoped that would solve the problem because there was a safety switch that would be pushed when the covers went on. The heater did not come on. So now I was really fuming! My heater was working absolutely fine when I called to get the maintenance check. Now, after the technician comes out, it's not working, and he was obviously careless enough to leave the covers off, so who knows what else he messed up? I called back and asked for a refund of the $80. Okay, I didn't ask. I demanded. But of course they have to switch me to approx. 4 different departments before I get someone on the phone who can actually do something about my request. Right then, the heater kicks on. I don't know if it needed time to reset or what. But I was still ticked off and still wanted a refund because I think it's absolutely ridiculous that I've wasted a whole morning being frozen and talking to all their stupid reps and having to fix the stupid technician's mistake. So this is the lady's response, "No, we don't do refunds of maintenance fees." So I asked to speak to her manager. Then she goes, "ummmm, no, we don't have a manager". I say "You mean to tell me that you have no manager or supervisor on your department?" She says, "No, there's only six of us here." Nice. But she is helpful enough (and I say that in the most sarcastic way) to transfer me to another department. Then I get a bad connection. I talk to Monica for a minute and tell her I can barely hear her, then the line goes dead. So I proceed to start all over and call someone (the 6th person by now) and explain the ENTIRE situation for the 6th time, who proceeds to put me on hold for quite some time, and then when he comes back on he tells me, "I see that you've spoken to customer relations and they've already denied you a refund. Sorry." And folks, I didn't even put in all the details to this story, such as having to hear at least 3 times this morning "Thank you for holding. We are experiencing heavy call volume at this time..."

I am steamed. And yes, I have considered the possibility that I've overreacted to this whole thing because people make mistakes like leaving the cover off a furnace even though they may not be COMPLETELY incompetent. But right now, I'm just ticked, so let me be.


Frustration number 2. Can you guess? Yup, it's my 2 year old. Today he managed to find his sister's purse and scatter her birthday money in various parts of the house, pull out EVERY pair of his pajamas and scatter them all over his floor, and take out every toy he's ever owned, along with all the pieces of his "Go Fish" game, and throw them willy nilly throughout his bedroom, the hallway, and the stairs. Also, the icing on the cake. I went to take a shower and left my husband in charge. I don't blame him for this, by the way, I just had to add the husband part so you wouldn't think I left two 2-year-olds completely unattended. While I took a shower, these two pulled all the cushions off the couch, dumped my tray of pretty, don't-you-dare-touch-these candles onto the couch, and proceeded to unwrap the presents that were under the tree.


Frustration number 3. I belong to a freecycle group, which is a local online thing where people offer to give things for free to keep them out of the landfill, or just because they don't want/need them anymore. I offered a pair of brand-new, never used jeans the other day. They were too small and I'm never going to fit into them, and I'd had them too long to return them to the store. This lady wanted them and I put them in a bag and set them outside my door for her to pick up. Then I get this email saying that she drove all the way from Austin to pick them up and they weren't there. I checked outside and they were gone. They had to have been stolen right off my porch. I wrote her back and apologized profusely and told her they had been stolen. I even went out of my way to write to another woman who wanted them but had been turned down and make sure she didn't misunderstand me and pick them up. She didn't. So I wrote again to let this other lady know. Then today, a new member on freecycle who lives right in the near vicinity of me and is using the name "JaneDoe" posted the same size new with tags jeans. This is either a huge coincidence or she is the one that took them. So this other lady sees this message obviously, and assumes this is me posting under another name, and messing with people. She writes me a nasty email accusing me of pulling immature pranks. Also, she writes that I didn't even have the decency to email her back. So she obviously got none of my previous emails and thinks I'm a total scammer. Probably my emails went to her junk folder or something. People know each other a little bit on this list, so I'm now wondering how many people she warned about me.

And now, my kids are home from school, and the fighting has commenced.

And I can't even eat chocolate to soothe myself, because if I gain any more weight I'm going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe, as I know have to suck in to get into my fat pants.

So I am on the verge people. Don't you dare say anything mean to me today or I will punch you in the face.

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus

Last night we attended our church's Christmas party, and at the end, Santa Claus made an appearance. My kids had different reactions to that.

Gabriella knows all about Santa not being real, which we didn't even have to explain to her actually. A couple years ago she just figured it out herself. When I said something about Santa coming soon, she said, "Mom, Santa's not real." When I asked her why she thought that, her response was, "Mom, come on, a man with flying reindeer who goes around the whole world in one night? Sorry, but that just can't happen." So she basically spared me having to eventually tell her on my own, which I was glad for. Anyway, back on topic- in her eyes she's way too old and cool to sit on Santa's lap, but not too cool for a candy cane, so she skipped the whole line and went straight to the lady with the basket of candy.

Dario Jr. still believes in Santa, but he's old enough to realize that the Santas that he sees in public all look different. We've gotten around that by telling him that those are all the real Santa's helpers. Santa needs helpers because he's so busy at the North Pole right now trying to get ready for Christmas, that he just doesn't have time to come and see everyone right now, so his helpers see the kids and then they report back to Santa. He wasn't too excited to sit on the fake Santa's lap, but he really wanted a candy cane, so he did it anyway. As we were standing in line though, he said, "I'm gonna pull down his beard and then jump off and grab a candy cane." Such a darling, ain't he?

Then there was Roman. Oh this was the fun part. Last year he didn't really get the concept of Santa. This year, he knows exactly what's going on, which is that this nice fat bearded guy is here for the sole purpose of giving him candy. (He doesn't get that Santa brings toys yet, he's only concerned with the candy.) He was so excited while we were standing in line. Actually, I had to pull him back from Santa to get him in line in the first place, because he marched straight up and stood in front of Santa trying to get his attention while another little girl was in his lap. As we stood in line he was talking so fast he could hardly keep up with himself. What he said went something like this, "Is that Santa?!Does he have candy?!Is he gonna gimme candy?!He's gonna gimme candy!Where the North Pole?!He lives in the North Pole!Why the North Pole?!Where he lives?!He says 'Ho Ho Ho'!I got a cookie!I'm gonna show him my cookie!Are he's gone be 'ho' in?!" (As in "ho ho ho" ing). It was so fun to see him excited, but then I actually missed seeing him talk to Santa, because it seems that while I was engaged in conversation with some ladies behind us in line, he snuck back up to the front and inserted himself onto Santa's lap. When I noticed he was gone and turned to look for him, I saw him coming back from Santa's direction with a smile on his face and a candy cane in hand. I didn't see the exchange, but I imagine it went something like this:

Roman barges to front of line and hops onto Santa's lap.

Santa: "Uh, hello little boy. What's your name?" (and why are you
unattended?!)

Roman: "Roman. Are you gonna gimme some of that candy?" points to
basket of candy canes

Santa: "Oh, hi Roman. Have you been a good boy this year?"

Roman: "Yes. Are you gonna gimme me candy?"

Santa: "Well, just a minute here. What do you want for Christmas this year,
Roman?"

Roman: "Candy." (points again) "Right there. That
candy."

Santa gives up and hands the kid a candy cane. Roman walks back to
me, pleased as punch with how his visit with Santa went.

Oh the joy of Christmas!

Hooray!

My retainer has been found! And by the little thief that stole it, no less! He got in trouble for something else this morning and I sent him to his room. A few minutes later he came running out saying "I found your 'tainer!" Apparently he thought this would put him in my good graces. He was right. Not only did he get to come out of his room, but I promptly gave him the candy cane that he'd been begging me for all morning.

So I no longer have to worry about my teeth reverting to their former state of vampire-ly resemblance, and all is right with the world.

Where do thieves stash their loot?

If you were two years old, where would you stash your mother's retainer? He says he swallowed it but I don't buy it. I think he's just trying to throw me off the trail....



PS. I already checked under the couch cushions where he hid the stolen baby Jesus last week.

Not appropriate

Okay Mormon readers. This is inappropriate humor right here, so stop reading now! For all the rest of you (yes, I know you are ALL still reading, but if you don't comment no one will know!)

Tonight we went to a Chinese restaurant to eat. While we were waiting for our food we were reading the little paper placemats at our seats. It was all about what animal you were on the zodiac chart according to what year you were born. So we were going around and I said, "Oh, I'm a snake." Then Gabby read hers and everyone else's. "Daddy and Dario, you're both a horse. I'm a dragon." Then she found Roman's birth year under the picture of the rooster. "Hey Roman, you're a cock." Apparently that wasn't the animal Roman wanted to be because he screamed out in his loudest voice in the middle of the restaurant, "I am NOT a COCK!" Lovely.

Innocence lost

I took my kids outside today to ride their bikes. They absolutely love to be outside riding their bikes or scooters and talking to the neighborhood kids, and I love that it's good exercise for them and that they get to socialize a little. But they don't get to do these activities nearly as often as they would like, simply because I can't spend hours outside watching their every move. I can't count the number of times my daughter has asked if they could please go play in the FRONT yard this time, and I've had to say "no" because I needed to work on things inside the house and couldn't watch them. I really feel as if they have been cheated out of what should be a really wonderful part of childhood because our society has deteriorated so much that parents have to be fearful to let their children out of their sights for even a moment. When I was little, we would ask our mother if we could go out and play, and the answer would be, "Yes, be home by such and such a time," and we'd run off into the neighborhood to find our friends and play for hours. We rode bikes, jumped rope, built forts, made snowmen, rollerskated, you name it. When we went to the store, us kids could run off and play in the toy aisle while our mom shopped. We had some freedom and felt safe. I'm so sad that my own kids can't do that. I can't let them out in the neighborhood without worrying that they'll be grabbed by a kidnapper in a passing car. I can't even let them go a couple aisles over in Target for fear that some sicko might be staking out that section just waiting to expose himself to my kids. And we wonder why our children want to sit in front of the TV for hours and are getting fat. They're bored out of their minds being trapped in the house all day! I hate that we live in such a scary world now. If only we could go back in time....

Gabriella is 9!

Gabriella's birthday was yesterday. She's now 9 years old. I love her at this age. Not that I didn't love her at all the other ages too, but I like the stage she's in. She's still young enough that her rebellions and misbehaviors are fairly easily dealt with. She's old enough that we can carry on a conversation about life. She's old enough to get subtle humor, and she makes some great jokes of her own that I actually find funny, not ones I have to fake laugh at to be nice. And the best part is, she loves spending time with me. I know the day is not far off that she will choose her friends over me, so I'm trying to enjoy this stage as much as possible. I'm really glad to have such a sweet, beautiful, intelligent daughter.

Here are some pics from her birthday party/sleepover. Her party was a Hollywood theme. We set up a red carpet and did interviews with them. The girls were more into being singers than movie stars. They lip synched in an area I had set up for them, and Dario actually made music videos of them. Then Gabby had a couple friends sleep over and in the morning Dario made Gabby some heart-shaped pancakes. He did it last year and she made a special request this time, so I think this will be a tradition.

Frugal son in the making

Roman loves to go shopping with me, and it seems he's learning a thing or two while we're doing it. Tonight I was in his room with him and we were playing with his cash register. I handed him a little toy and asked him "How much does this cost?" He scanned it with his hand scanner and told me "Too much!" I've taught him well.

7 things about me

Meleah asked me to write 7 interesting things about myself. So here goes.

1. When I was little I had a lazy eye. I was supposed to wear a patch over the good eye to help the bad one get stronger, but for some reason my mom decided that rather than buying an actual eye patch, she'd use gauze and duct tape. So attractive.

2. My family's home burned down twice. The first time I was the one who started the fire. I had a new cardboard playhouse that we had just gotten for Christmas. I had the bright idea that I would use my parents' cigarette lighter to just light a little flame on the window and then blow it out, for fun. That doesn't work with cardboard. The second time was my sister's fault. And my parents actually still love us both. And allow us in their home.

3. When my now husband and I were 15 years old, we were nominated for Homecoming King and Queen. He was Mr. Popularity, and I was just newly dating him, so they picked me because it'd be "cute" I think.

4. When I was a freshman in high school, my history teacher was making jokes about women being in the Olympics and how they could only do synchronized swimming. He was just teasing, but I got an attitude and walked out of class. A bunch of other girls followed me, but then the teacher came out in the hall and demanded everyone get back in class. Everyone else turned around, but I marched down to the office and told the secretary that I wasn't going back into class because my teacher was making chauvinistic jokes. I sat in the office the whole hour. That teacher never liked me after that.

5. I can't whistle or wink.

6. I will never invite people over for dinner. It is SO stressful for me. I can't stand the pressure of having to have something done at a certain time, of worrying whether or not they'll like the food, of worrying that I'll burn or under cook the food, trying to make conversation during the meal, talking too much so people can't eat because they're busy responding to me, possible awkward silence, and on and on. It's too much pressure. I love to have people over for games and snacks though.

7. I peel my toenails down as short as I can get them without making them bleed. You can hardly tell that I even have a toenail on my pinkie toe.

The bane of my existence

"Doodlebops." This is the most annoying show to come on TV since Teletubbies. I'd sit and watch a Barney marathon instead of watching this junk. Everything about them annoys me, from their stupid hair to their stupid outfits to their dancing and the tone of their voices. And now this is Roman's favorite show. Lord have mercy!

Happy Birthday to me

It's my birthday today. I'm 30 years old now, but I'm not freaking out. I'm aging gracefully. Okay, I can only say that because I already had my "early-life crisis" when I turned 25. And then again when I was 28. For some reason 25 made me feel old, as I figured now I had to round UP to 30, and also the insurance companies didn't even regard me as young and reckless anymore. Traumatic. Twenty-eight was 10 year reunion time, and that freaked me out because I started asking myself "What have I done in the last 10 years that's noteworthy?" and I came up with nothing. But I was mistaken, and I figured that out after a while. Being a good wife and a good mother to 3 children IS noteworthy, even though much of modern society may not think so. So now I'm 30, and I'm A-okay with it. I'm happy with who I am and what my life has turned out like so far. Grateful to be old enough to have learned a few things, but still young enough that I can learn lots more. Yep, 30 is alright with me.

Now these two wrinkles that seem to have suddenly appeared on my forehead are another matter altogether....

Sniffle, sniffle

I'm sick. I'm a little cranky. And I've got lots of snot. Sort of like this-

Mass Christmas Letter? check

We're traveling for Christmas this year so I have been in a frenzy trying to get all the things on my list checked off so we can be ready to go on the 17th.

1. shopping for gifts, check


2. buy a gift for the gift-exchange at a party I'm attending, check


3. put up decorations, check


4. assembled the tree (actually I delegated that to my husband), check (fake tree, save the Earth people!!)


5. addressed all the Christmas card envelopes, check


6. write the year-end-what's-been-happening-in-our-family-I-don't-have-the-time-to-tell-you-all-individually letter, check

Regarding #6, I know that much fun is made of these types of mass mailings at Christmas-time, but I actually really enjoy getting the letters and hearing about what's happening in others' lives. Makes me feel like I kind-of still know these people who I only speak to once a year via Christmas card. And I hope that by reading our letters they'll feel like they kind-of still know us too. I'm sentimental like that.

Movin' up in the world

Yesterday we had a high class Thanksgiving. Yessiree, no more white trash Thanksgivings for us. We're movin' up in the world, as evidenced by my new gravy boat.

new high class gravy boat

old white trash gravy boat

Now that I'm high class, I've decided that it would be bad for my image to socialize with non-high class, ugly-gravy-boat-owning people. I will be taking applications for my new social circle for a limited period of time. Please submit your requests along with gravy boat pictures to highclasssheyenne@pleaseletmebeyourfriend.com

Thank you and good day.

I AM THE CHAMPION!

Gabby and I went on a date last night to Gattiland. We ate pizza and then went to play games. We played this game where you stand on a pad and there's light bands all around you and they light up like a jumprope swinging. Gabby and I both played, AND I WIPED THE FLOOR WITH HER! That's right people. I beat my (almost) 9 year old daughter, who regularly plays jumprope. Me. The (almost) 30 year old woman. I still got it folks. I....still....GOT IT! Enjoy my new theme song.(Music player's on the right) I put it up so all of you could revel in my glory. (I'm a giver.)

Dogs, frogs, and fairies

Just a little helpful advice. If the look you are trying to achieve with your front yard is "classy", "sophisticated", or "not ugly", then please don't include dog, frog, or fairy lawn ornaments. Or those cutouts that look like a ladies behind bending over. This will not achieve your purposes.

(If you are a little old man or lady you are exempted from this. Everything you do is cute.)

Santa's first mistake

What do you do when you find the perfect gift for your daughter online, such as this delightful little Polly Pocket Triple Decker Bus , and you order it because you know she'll love it, and then you happen to be walking through the toy store and she happens to pick it up while she's looking for toys she likes, sees it, and then tosses it quickly back onto the shelf and says, "YUCK!" ???

Stressed

I am giving a talk on Sunday. This was supposed to be the easiest talk of my life because 1. it only has to be 10 minutes long, and 2. it's on tithing, which is something I actually know and have a testimony about and have lots of personal experiences that I could share.

So what in the world is wrong with me? I have been at my desk off and on for the last 4 hours tonight, and that's not including the time I took to take notes last night from various sources. I finally have something put together that HOPEFULLY is 10 minutes long and HOPEFULLY is what the bishopric was aiming for, but I still don't feel completely at peace about it. Yes, I have prayed about what I should say and which direction my talk should go. Multiple times. But I'm gettin' NOTHING. Usually I struggle a little at the beginning and then once I get over that initial hump the rest just sort of flows. Not this time. I'm wondering if this is the stupor of thought that you're supposed to get when you're not making the right decision, or if this is Heavenly Father keeping me on pins and needles until that last possible moment when I think that he's really not going to help me this time, and then at the latest possible moment when I've almost given up hope he comes through and I get some great inspiration. Hopefully it's the latter. PLEASE be the latter.

Community service

I love doing community service. And I'm not referring to the "I broke the law and now I'm being punished" kind of community service. (Which I've never had to do by the way. But my husband has! Go on. Ask him!) No, I'm talking about the kind that involves actually doing something for other people in the community who will benefit from and appreciate my work. Last night I went with a group of women from my church to prepare a senior center and adjoining preschool to be painted. We just took stuff off of walls, and then did some taping and priming. This type of work is not something I normally enjoy, but there's something about doing it for someone else that just makes it feel like it's not work at all, and I feel happy to do it. Grateful for the opportunity in fact.
Tomorrow my town is having a "Family Volunteer Day" where the actual painting of these areas will be done, along with beautification of a garden at the senior center and a playground area for the day care. They're also having an area where you can assemble care packages for the firefighters and policemen to give to people. I originally signed my daughter and I up to do the care packages, but now I'm emotionally invested in the senior center and preschool where we did the work, so I think I'm going to help out there instead. Whatever we end up doing, I'm just really excited, and I'm hoping my daughter will catch the bug too.

I'd like to invite everyone who reads this blog, (and lives locally of course) to come and help out as well. I guarantee if you come you'll be glad you did. The work will be going on from 9am-noon, and then we can sit down and have a picnic and I think they're having some cartoon characters there and a moonwalk for the kiddos. All ages from 2 on up are welcome. Here's all the information you need. Hope to see you there!



Registration will begin at 8:30am in the Allen R. Baca parking lot located at 301 W. Bagdad on the side of bldg. #2 (see map below)
If it is raining, registration will be inside the Baca center.

Don’t forget to bring:
-lunches in a cooler for the family picnic (leave in car- lunch will be at 12:30pm)
-a blanket for your family to sit on
-any personal tools that you would like to bring (rakes, hand shovels, gloves etc.) make sure they are labeled with your name on them.

Don’t forget to wear:
-Comfortable clothing that can get dirty
-Closed toed shoes
-layers in case it’s cool
-Sunscreen

- All projects are in or across the street of the Baca Center .

Parents: We want everyone to have a safe and fun experience so please remember that children must be supervised at all times.

Thank you for being willing to serve your community!

Sincerely,

Round Rock Volunteer Center Staff

Poop ice cream anyone?

Ice-cream shaped like faeces is ready to be served at the Modern Toilet diner in the Shilin district in Taipei November 9, 2007. All 100 seats in the crowded diner are made from toilet bowls, not chairs. Sink faucets and gender-coded "WC" signs appear throughout the three-storey facility, one of 12 in an island-wide chain of eateries with a toilet theme. Picture taken November 9, 2007. REUTERS/Nicky Loh (TAIWAN)


As ridiculous and disgusting as this is, I'm quite sure I'd like to go there. Just to be able to take pictures and talk about it later. And I guess this is China, so if people only go one time for the novelty of it, you'd still never run out of customers.

I wonder if they serve Mountain Dew in toilet shaped cups too? I'm lickin' my lips just thinking about it. Aren't you?

I'm mean

People, I like to just tell it how it is. I do not understand why we have to play little nicey-nice games so no ones feelings get hurt and everyone feels all warm and fuzzy inside. WHY? Why do I have to play along? Can't I just tell you that I think you're shallow for owning a $300 purse, and I don't buy your story about "quality and workmanship", and then we can still be friends? Or that I don't support your decision to get breast implants/liposuction/a face-lift because I think women are worth more than what's on the outside and we really need to learn to value ourselves and stop perpetuating this ridiculous and unrealistic idea of what women should look like? Or that I don't want to babysit your kids just because I'm a stay-at-home mom? Or that I don't want to be pressured to order stuff from your at-home sales party? Or that I think your multi-level marketing job is a scam and I can't believe that you're buying into that crap, AND that you want me to buy into it too? Can't I just say that and then we can still be friends, because you're confident enough that my opinion won't crush you and you won't assume I don't like you just because I don't wholeheartedly agree with every decision you make and you'll respect me for just giving you my honest opinion?

No?

Well, (sigh), it was worth a try.

No speako Es-pan-ol

Okay, I have a Hispanic last name because I'm married to a wonderful/handsome/funny (are you reading this babe?) man whose family is from Argentina. But I am 100% white girl , and I can't even say my own last name with the emphasis in the right parts like it should be, so it's kind of amusing/annoying when I open my mail and inside are Spanish language advertisements and magazines from companies who just assume (or hope, maybe) that I speak Spanish. Or telemarketers call me and say "Hola Senora _____!." Then I end up saying, "Uhhhhhhhhhhh, no speaka Es-pan-ol", because I get flustered when someone unexpectedly talks to me in Spanish and I don't have time to think of the right way to say it. Oh well, if I said it the right way they might not believe me, which has happened a couple of times in person actually. They try to tell me, "See? You do speak a little," and then I pinch my thumb and pointer finger together as small as possible while I say "muy, muy poquito" as in, "please don't speak any more Spanish to me. I might vaguely understand what you are saying, but I have very little chance of responding without making a fool out of myself." So believe me people. No -speaka- Eth-pon-yol. Comb-pren-day? Moo-ee bee-en.

I love my gramma!

My grandma just had a birthday and I thought after the fact that I wished I would have written her a message on here. But like I said, it was after the fact, and I thought, well, I missed the big day. But it doesn't have to be my grandma's birthday to tell her how great she is, so I'm just gonna go on with it! I haven't seen her in person in a long time (she lives in Montana and I live in Texas), so most of these things have to do with when I was little, but they are more meaningful to me now then they were then anyway. :D

So grandma, here are (a few) of the things I love about you:

1. the smell of your house- just brings back memories
2. you would always give us lots of spoons and empty margarine tubs to go dig in the dirt
3. you always had juicy fruit gum for us
4. you remembered my birthday every year, and sent a little money until I got so old you'd almost go broke!
5. you let me eat frozen blueberries
6. you gave me little candy hearts at valentine's day
7. you spent time with me
8. you still have the pictures I drew you when I was in 1st grade
9. you secretly salvaged my treasured jewelery box after the house fire, refinished it, and gave it to me for Christmas
10. you told me stories about your life and family
11. you're always glad to talk to me
12. you feed and love all the stray cats at your house, even if they won't let you touch them
13. you give good hugs (and kisses!)
14. you let me and my sisters sleep over, and bought us those little individual boxes of cereal so we could all pick just what we liked
15. you call me just to talk
16. when I wanted to look at ALL your photos you dug them up from hidden away places
17. you love to play games
18. I love the way you and grandpa would argue over what was going to happen next in the soap opera you watched together - SO funny!
19. you take the time to email me even though you have to hunt and peck the keys
20. you send me webpages that you think I'll enjoy
21. you tell me stories about funny things I did when I was little
22. you're favorite color is red, just like mine
23. you laugh with me
24. you love me

I love you Grandma Tillie!

Are you Jesus?

Okay, I am not one to get all sentimental over those cheesy email forwards that people share, but this story I really liked, probably because I've been thinking a lot about this particular subject lately in regards to my own life, and the kind of person I'd like to be. This last year I set a goal to run triathlons, which I worked really hard on and I feel like I accomplished something I could be proud of. It built me up. This year, I'm setting a goal to reach out more to others, and to try to be of service whenever I can, in the hopes that I can have a hand in building others up, and showing them a small part of the love that our Heavenly Father has for them. Sometimes we think that we are small and can't make a difference, but I think it's the small things that can make the biggest difference.

Author Unknown

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to a regional sales convention in Chicago. They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for Friday night's dinner. In their rush, with tickets and briefcases, one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table which held a display of apples. Apples flew everywhere. Without stopping or looking back, they all managed to reach the plane in time for their nearly missed boarding.
ALL BUT ONE !!! He paused, took a deep breath, got in touch with his feelings, and experienced a twinge of compassion for the girl whose apple stand had been overturned. He told his buddies to go on without him, waved good-bye, told one of them to call his wife when they arrived at their home destination and explain his taking a later flight. Then he returned to the terminal where the apples were all over the terminal floor. He was glad he did.
The 16 year old girl was totally blind! She was softly crying, tears running down her cheeks in frustration, and at the same time helplessly groping for her spilled produce as the crowd swirled about her, no one stopping and no one to care for her plight.
The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathered up the apples, put them back on the table and helped organize her display. As he did this, he noticed that many of them had become battered and bruised; these he set aside in another basket.
When he had finished, he pulled out his wallet and said to the girl, "Here, please take this $40 for the damage we did. Are you okay?" She nodded through her tears. He continued on with, "I hope we didn't spoil your day too badly."
As the salesman started to walk away, the bewildered blind girl called out to him, "Mister...." He paused and turned to look back into those blind eyes. She continued, "Are you Jesus?"
He stopped in mid-stride, and he wondered. Then slowly he made his way to catch the later flight with that question burning and bouncing about in his soul: "Are you Jesus?" Do people mistake you for Jesus?
That's our Destiny, is it not? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world that is blind to His love, life and grace.
If we claim to know Him, we should live, walk and act as He would. Knowing Him is more than simply quoting Scripture and going to church.
It's actually living the Word as life unfolds day to day.
You are the apple of His eye even though we, too, have been bruised by a fall. He stopped what He was doing and picked you and me up on a hill called Calvary and paid in full for our damaged fruit.

Cookies and my own fat-er-ness

So the cookies are here (along with 3 pecan tartlets and a carmel apple pie), and I feel no guilt over ordering these things. I've polished off one tartlet and 2 cookies already with a glass of milk. No guilt at all. Yet, I wish there was. I have reached my "threshold weight", which is a number on the scale that once I see it I am supposed to say, "Get ahold of yourself, woman!", and put an immediate stop to the behavior that will cause me to cross that threshold. But this time the shouting in my head is half-hearted; just a monotone (think Ben Stine-ish voice here) "stop. no. don't." Now I'm thinking more along the lines of, there are worse things than being chubby.

Like not eating cookies.

Heavenly messenger

It's 7:26 right now and I am anxiously awaiting a knock at my door that is supposed to come around 7:30.... ish. Just a liiiiiitttttllllleeee longer to wait. And when that long awaited knock comes I'll joyfully prance down the stairs as if running through a meadow of wildflowers to land in the arms of my true love. I'll open the door to that heavenly messenger and bright light will shine from above and angels will sing their chorus, and I will fall to my knees in humble thanks. The long awaited moment will have arrived.

The cookie delivery

Hark! Me heareth yonder doorbell ring! The COOKIES! The COOKIES are here! Alas, I must depart.....

Anatomy

"Hey Mom, see these wrinkles in your wrist? That's your
karkuls. I mean, your meta-karkuls. My PE teacher told me."

I think something got lost in translation....

Selective organization

These are my daughter's crayon boxes. Little crayons all lined up in rows. She also likes to sort buttons by color and shape, and sort coins by their types.

This is her room.

Selective organization

You break it you buy it

You see this book? I own it. And I only paid the the low, low price of $29.99, even though the back of the cover clearly states that the price is $21.99, which was one thing I pointed out to the unforgiving librarian that I stared down today. I also pointed out that the pages that I spilled water on were completely dry now, so in fact, I was quite sure they wouldn't mold as she said they would. Also, I pointed out that the $8.00 processing fee she was charging me on top of the full cover price of the book was absolutely ridiculous, but she was hearing none of that. My repeating of my stance and continued sighing did nothing to change her mind either. So I am now the proud owner of this book. It's got some really great advice in it. Anyone interested in learning how to invest in stocks? I'll sell it to you for the low, low price of $29.99.

Woe is me....(gimme a break!)

Gabriella: "Mom, you are so mean! You made us walk home today in the freezing cold and I didn't have a jacket! It was like 70 degrees out there!"

Me: "Boohoohooo. Waa."

Blessed

I Love to run. I love to feel my heart pumping, the stride of my legs, the rhythm of my feet hitting the ground. It makes me feel Strong and Powerful and ALIVE. And frequently, it leads me into prayer. Not standard prayer, where you set out to say it and there's an opening and middle and end of conversation, but a deep stirring song from my heart sent straight up to heaven. The gratitude I feel for my blessings at these times is so strong and true, and it humbles me to recognize all the Lord has done for me. I am so thankful to the Lord for giving me a strong body. I'm thankful for the breeze in my face, the sun shining down on me, the air I breathe. I'm thankful that he leads and lifts me up in life. I'm thankful for the potential I feel inside of me. I'm thankful for being able to recognize my blessings. There's so much more in my heart that I can't fully express through writing, but I just wanted to say "Thank you Lord. Thank you."

My son is 2

No, it's not Roman's birthday today. This is just what I say to myself to explain the actions of my naughty/mischievous/adorable/did I say Naughty? little boy.

These are just from today:

Dario: "What's that on your finger, Roman?"

Roman: -silence-

Dario: "What IS that on your finger?"

Roman: -silence-

Dario: "What is this?" picks the thing off Roman's finger

Roman: "It's my booger."

Me: "Roman, be quiet. We're in church."

Roman: screams, cries, whines

Me: "Roman, you need to shush or we'll have to go to time out."

Roman: cries and whines some more

Me: "Okay, time out." take him outside and sit him down against the wall.

Roman: whines and cries over and over "I'll be nice Mommy, I'll be nice. Mommy I'll be nice. Mommy, mommy, I'll be nice."

Me: ignores him and doesn't make eye contact

Roman: "Mommy, I'll be nice. I'll be nice, Mommy. Mommy I'll be ni-i-i-ce."

Me: still ignoring

Roman: "Mommy, I'll..." draws entire arm back "...BE..." SMACK! "...NICE!!"

Tonight, out of the blue while he looks at me from across the counter.

"Mommy? Can you give me fitty bucks? I need some bucks."

The Circus

Yesterday me and the kids went to the circus. (Dario opted out and I actually was okay with it because I'm cheap and I thought "Hey, that saves me $14!" Yes, I'm that cheap, but that's a WHOLE 'nother blog!) I was all excited to write about it and post my awesome pictures of the kids riding the elephant and all the cool circus acts. But then my dreams were crushed, for when I took out the camera to take only my 2nd picture, it read "Battery exhausted". I tried and tried to coax out another picture, but it really was exhausted. MAN!
The circus itself was really entertaining, although I was conflicted with a couple of the acts. I really enjoy the clowns and the people acts like trapeze, and motorcycle guy, and human cannon guy, and I really enjoy animal acts with domesticated animals like dogs, but the tigers and the elephants performing are hard for me to watch. On the one hand, it's neat to see them do tricks, but on the other hand, I know that they do not want to be there and I feel guilty for supporting that kind of treatment with my money. And I know it's completely hypocritical for me to say that and then pay to let my kids get on the elephant.
So yes, I enjoy it, but I have a sense of guilt afterward. Kinda the way I feel for shopping at Walmart. As of yet though, the guilt hasn't kept me away from the low, low prices of Walmart, and I'm quite sure this won't be my last circus.

Disgusting habits

I read an article yesterday about a politician in Australia who was caught on tape picking his earwax and then eating it. That is SO gross! Here's the video, in case you think you'd really like to see someone eat their own earwax. http://www.aolvideoblog.com/2007/11/01/politician-eats-earwax/
That got me thinking about disgusting habits, which then got me to thinking that I've got a few disgusting habits of my own which if caught on tape would likely cause spectators to remark, "That is SO gross!". Then I thought, "Hey, maybe I should list those disgusting habits for all the world to see." Good idea, eh? So here they are:


1. I am a nose picker. Yup, you heard me. I do not eat the proceeds however.

2. I fart in front of my family with no shame. Actually, if I'm in the mood, I try to make it as loud as possible.

3. When I have a cold and I'm all stuffy, I hock lugies, super loud too. (How do you spell lugie? loogie? loogy?) Snot.

4. I like to pop zits. When my husband has a good one, I actually beg him to let me do it.


So there are some of my disgusting habits. I bet you've got a few too.

(Note to self: come up with super long list of cool stuff about me to offset the visuals that people are now getting. Make stuff up if you have to.)

Questionable meat

Tonight I was super hungry so this is what I made for dinner:

1. beef roast

2. pork roast

3. 5 lbs. of ground beef

4. a ham

5. 15 chicken breasts cooked in the crock pot

6. 5 lbs. of bite sized chunks of chicken cooked with a little olive oil

7. 10 boiled chicken breasts

8. 12 hot pockets

9. artichoke chicken

Okay, I wasn't really that hungry, but I did indeed cook all these things. Why, you ask? Because my #$%^&* freezer went out and every single piece of meat in it thawed. Probably less than 2 months ago I lost all my meat when the breaker flipped and it thawed out(but not completely) and I gave it all away to people who could use it. I JUST replenished it all, and now the freezer is just broken. I couldn't bear to lose all that meat again, so I cooked all the stuff that wasn't completely luke warm. I think (hope?) that it'll be okay, but it is definitely "questionable".

I didn't want to make my kids be the guinea pigs to see if the meat was okay, so I fed them something else while I ate some of the artichoke chicken tonight. As I was eating I started to feel my stomach swirling, but it was my hypochondria acting up, not actually salmonella poisoning. So no vomit yet. Keep your fingers crossed that I make it through the night....

This is my fridge stuffed to overflowing with all that meat. Now I just have to figure out what to do with it.

Trick or Treat!

Yesterday was Halloween. It was a really busy day, but SO much fun. Roman and I went to Gabriella's school to hear her and her classmates read spooky stories that they had written. The teacher turned the lights out and the kids sat next to a lamp and read their stories. It was really cute.

Later on it was time to trick-or-treat. Roman was a skunk, Dario dressed as Frankenstein, and Gabriella was an old lady.

We started at around 6:20 and trick-or-treated all night until 8:30. The kids had so much fun, especially Roman, who was so excited that he was running everywhere and tripped multiple times, spilling his whole bucket of candy each time. Lots of people got a kick out of his costume. (I'm sure that wasn't influenced by the cute little face inside it....) I thought Roman would be the first one of the kids to get tired and want to go home, but it turned out that he had more stamina than anyone, and he wanted to keep going even when we finally came home. I could have gone all night. I enjoy trick-or-treating even more than the kids I think. They ended up with SO much candy. (Great for me because I can eat all the candy I want and they don't even notice a dent in it! Not so great for my thighs however....sigh...) It was a great night.

Pumpkin carving

Last night we carved pumpkins for Halloween. We did it earlier last year and found out that in Texas with the heat and humidity that that isn't the best idea. Our pumpkins had rotted and caved in by Halloween and it was such a bummer. So this year we wised up and waited, and it worked out doubly well because we were able to get gi-normous pumpkins from HEB for the same price as the little ones because they went on sale so close to the holiday. Yay! Roman had to stick his entire arm in up to his shoulder to pull out the guts at the bottom of his pumpkin. So cute! Little Dario was so pumped to carve pumpkins, but I guess he forgot what that actually entailed, because once again this year he didn't want anything to do with touching slimy stuff, so he wouldn't gut his pumpkin. Come ON! That's the funnerest part! He also is too young to carve it, so he basically sat on the stairs the whole time asking if we were almost done. Hopefully next year he'll "man up" a little and at least touch some guts. Gabby wanted to do her own pattern, and she refused to draw it on the pumpkin before she carved it, so she ended up with a really lop-sided grin on hers, but she told us, "I meant it to be that way." I love her independence. (sometimes!) So we all had fun and can't wait for Halloween tomorrow.

Sick Day

I had such a nice day planned today. Roman was going to go play at a friend's house from 9am-noon and I was going to have 3 whole hours to myself to do whatever I wanted to do without interruption. But then the first law of motherhood, which reads, "Thou shalt no more have peace or solitude in thy life until thy youngest child moveth out" kicked in, and I ended up with not just 1 naughty toddler at home, but also a "sick" 8 year old daughter. I say "sick", because by the time lunch rolled around and the boredom of being in her room with nothing to do but read sunk in, she was suddenly all better.

The downhill slide of my day started yesterday when I saw Roman scratching his back like crazy and I asked him if he wanted me to scratch it for him. I lifted up his shirt to get a better scratch and saw a big raised area on his back with red bumps and what looked like a little blister. I've been getting notes home from the elementary school that have warned that there have been several staph infections reported lately, so I figured I better get him checked out. I took him to the doctor today and he does indeed have a bacterial infection, although it's not staph.

Then this morning Gabby started complaining that her throat hurt and her stomach hurt. She was coughing as well, but the coughing has been going on a while. I gave her some cold medicine which she refused to drink, and went to put some clothes in the wash. When I came back into the kitchen she was hovering over the garbage can and said she felt like throwing up. So I sent her back to bed. Now, as of lunch time, she's completely recovered. I don't know if she was faking or not (she swears she felt horrible this morning), but I am definitely suspicious. It reminds me of when I didn't want to go to school a couple of times and I set my alarm to wake me up early so I could go into the bathroom closest to my parents bedroom, turn the lights on, make a little noise so hopefully they'd wake up enough to hear me in there, and then flush the toilet and tell them I puked. Worked like a charm, and I didn't use it often enough to arouse suspicion. Gabby's a pretty smart cookie. Maybe she's starting early.

Lost dog

It's Sunday morning and I'm really tired. Tired because I stayed up really late last night and got up early this morning to go look for my dog Chester. He's usually just around the house and I don't notice him much when I'm busy, and yesterday was extra busy getting ready for Trunk-or-Treat, so I didn't even notice until I went to bed around midnight that he wasn't there. He always comes to bed when we do. So I looked all over the house and couldn't find him. I went outside and called for him and he didn't come. I tried to go back to bed but I was so worried that I decided to get up and go drive around the neighborhood looking for him. I was surprised at HOW worried I was. He's a little dog and it was cold outside, and all kinds of scenarios went running through my head. I thought for sure someone stole him because he has tags clearly labeled with our contact information and no one had called. (I checked the caller ID for when we were gone). I was worried that he got run over. I thought maybe he went wandering too far away from our house in a quest to pee on something new that he got hopelessly lost and finally just collapsed from being so tired. (This would happen about 6 blocks away probably because he's such a chub!) I even let my mind go so far as thinking he may have been kidnapped by someone planning to break into our home who didn't want a dog barking to alert us. I thought maybe I should sleep in the hallway to protect the kids' rooms. (Yes, I am fully aware how paranoid and crazy this sounds.) I didn't find him so I stayed up gathering up pictures for the "Lost Dog" posters I was going to make, contacting the homeowner's association lady to have her send out a "Lost Dog" email, and looking up information for the animal shelter so I could go check there. I think I finally went to bed around 1am. Then I woke up this morning early to go search some more. I took Gabby with me and we circled the neighborhood and checked the drainage ditch and all the gutter holes along the streets in case he fell in. When we circled back by our house to check the gutter there and called out for him we heard him barking. Then Gabby yelled out, "He's in the car!" Stinkin' dog was in Dario's Durango all night long! I looked in the windows last night and called for him and he didn't respond, so he must have been sleeping. Gosh darn dog! How he got in there I have no idea, but he's found, and he's had more biscuits and love today than he's had in a long time. He really is my baby. I can't imagine what people who have lost an actual child go through....

Oh the pressure of my first blog post!

Okay, so I'm having fun reading a couple of other people's blogs, and decided to try this out for myself. But I feel such immense pressure to say something witty/entertaining/funny that I really don't even know what to write!

I'll start with this evening I guess. We went to our ward's Trunk-or-Treat party. Roman was dressed like a skunk, Dario Jr. was a fireman AGAIN because we haven't put together his REAL costume(and hopefully I do before Halloween), and Gabby was an old lady, which was quite hilarious as she swung her little purse around screaming in her best grumpy old lady voice "Get off my lawn!" I made Roman's costume myself, the poor thing. It consisted of a black hoodie and sweatpants, with a strip of fuzzy white fur pinned down the hood to the back, and a fluffy beaver shaped tail that I actually hand-sewed with the one stitch I know how to sew. The funniest part is that to get the tail to stand up, there's a long white string tied from his hood to the top of the tail. Online, where I found this idea, it said to use nylon string(so you can't see it is my guess), but by the time I got to the part where you attach the string, I was done putting extra effort in, and I just used the white that we had, and it's just as obvious as can be. Oh well, as long as people give him candy, he's happy. Which means I'M happy, because when he goes to bed I raid his pail. Dario and Gabby are too smart for that. They took their candy buckets into their rooms with them. Darn kids....