BAD HAIR DAY

 I have a lot of good qualities.  I developed most of these qualities, however, to mask some of my bad qualities.  For instance, I can clean my house at warp speed. I clean faster than anyone I know.  Why, you ask?  I have to because I usually have left my work 'til the last moment and I am under the gun.  So it is with doing hair.  I can braid hair beautifully.  I can do a tight perfect braid in no time.  Why, you ask?  Because I am usually covering something up, and I have found that braids are good for that. 

My husband has four beautiful sisters.  Since I grew up living close to the Heaton's, I watched these girls grow up and marveled how every week in church, they were always perfectly dressed with flawless hair.  I suppose that even then, somewhere in the back of my mind I aspired to be the kind of Mom who could pull that off.  For those of you wondering if God has a sense of humor, I ended up marrying their brother and having all girls.  It's just not fair to any of the involved parties.

When Mary was a baby I was pretty good with the whole hair thing.  Then her hair grew out and I was charged with getting a brush through it daily.  I watched my mother-in-law to see how she did it.  She would get the kids right out of the tub and with lightning fast hands, she would have their hair brushed out, dried and up in  ribbon.  Ya, I tried it.  I found that the more I worked on their hair the worse it looked.  If Alice styled their hair, it looked great for the entire day, if I did the EXACT same thing, they would look like they had just gotten out of bed in under an hour.  How could this be?  As I had more children, it got worse and worse.  It was somewhere between Alex and Emily that I fully embraced being a hands-off-mom and gave up entirely.  I have stumbled along through the years and as the kids got into school I discovered that if I couldn't brush through their hair, I could do a really tight braid and no one would be the wiser.  I can even braid evenly amid screaming and thrashing and all manor of wiggles.  I also discovered that a strategically placed braid would mask the occasional blob of shampoo that I would notice just as the kids were walking out the door.  Needless to say, on most days if you run into my kids, they will have a ponytail or a braid. 

So, this morning I got Emily out of the shower and helped to get her ready.  I decided to do her her hair today.  We get it all styled and Alex walks in with a horrified and confused look on her face and says,
"What are you doing?"
I was just about to answer when Emily piped up. 
"It's picture day.  You know, the day when mom brushes our hair out."
"It's not picture day!" Alex said in fear.  "You aren't going to brush my hair are you?"
Well, I wasn't before that lame a$$ series of comments, but just to make her suffer, I brushed carded out every inch of her hair.  Behold, there was much weeping and wailing.


                                                           

This was so much fun, I may do it again next month:)

THE BLIND SIDE

A little while back I attended something called SEPs.  It's one of those parent teacher conference things.  I often missed these in the olden days when I worked.  We went in and met Emily's teacher, who also used to teach Jared's little sister.  She is a wonderful lady.  Emily loves her.  She was doing great in math and was doing well in all her other areas, but Mrs. Pollock indicated that we needed to read a little more with her. 
"Do you have any suggestions for books?"  I asked.
Amelia Bedilia or Junie B. Jones were her suggestions. 
"Wow.  Mary didn't start reading those until she was in second grade."  I said.
Jared shook his head and Emily's teacher sort of laughed and we went on with our visit.  I don't know exactly when I noticed in big bold letters WELCOME TO SECOND GRADE! 
I seemed to have missed an entire year.  When did my baby grow up?  Well, we said our goodbyes as Jared made his usual explanation that I had hit my head or encountered some bad fumes at the pharmacy, or some excuse for my strange behavior.  I left determined to spend more time reading with my first second grader. 

We got home and started reading and I noticed something.  Emily would occasionally come to a word like rabbit and she would say something like rhinoceros.  She also kept moving the book closer and closer which didn't really work for me because I am over 40 and I need the book to be at least 2 feet away before I can make out the words.  This went on for a few weeks without me really putting the pieces together, and then one day Emily came home with a note from school.

"Dear bad parent.  Your child failed her eye test.  What is wrong with you that you didn't notice this?"  or words to that effect.  Bummer.  I didn't really see the point on spending hard earned money for glasses when she couldn't even read yet, but I took her in anyway.  After the exam the doctor said,  "Mrs. Heaton.  Your child failed her eye test.  What is wrong with you that you didn't notice this?" or words to that effect.  Emily picked out Hannah Montana glasses and we were on our way.  She was so excited.

The following Monday Jared went in and picked up her glasses and brought them home.  YIKES!!  There they were.  The tiniest glasses I had ever seen accompanied by a list of instructions on how not to destroy them.  They can't be serious.  This is Emily we're talking about.  She broke a dining room table when she was five.  All she has to do is look at something and it will break and now she has to take care of glasses?  They might as well give her a baby bird and tell her to keep it alive forever.  She was so excited when she got home and put them right on and ran out to go roller blading.  Two hours later they were still in one piece.  Amazing. 
                   
That night at reading time I noticed something else that was amazing.  She was able to read.  What a wild coincidence.  She learned to read just in time for her new glasses.  The rhinoceros changed back into a rabbit and we could both see the book because she could hold it more that two inches away now.  It's been two weeks now and the glasses are still in tact.  Every now and then I notice Emily looking at things like she is seeing them for the first time.  Glasses...$104.  New books...$24.  Snuggling with your SECOND grader in bed and reading...priceless.

                                                                                    

THE PERFECT STORM

Have you seen that movie, The Perfect Storm?  It's based on a true story about a once-in-a-lifetime set of circumstances that led to an epoch disaster. 

I have a sequel. 
1.  Mid terms at school.
2.  NCIS marathon.
3.  My lack of mad housekeeping skills.
4.  Telling my kids to get all the crap off their floor and out of the closet and in the living room so I can sort it.
5.  The fact that I have to sort crap.
6.  Solitaire.
7.  I lost my mop...seriously.
8.  Tuesday is not only pajamas day, but is also bra optional.

You know, earlier today I started cleaning up, and then I realized that I couldn't find my mop.  I don't know what happened after that.  All I know for sure is that we were all sitting in the disastrous living room watching NCIS when the door bell rang.  The kids ran to get the door as I lunged to get out of sight.  Then I heard it.  It was grandma saying,  "I just came to get visual proof that my daughter in law is a lazy no talent failure who plays solitaire all day and doesn't do laundry."
Ok, she really didn't say anything like that.  She just wanted hugs from the grandkids, but I know the truth.  I fled.  I ran.  I hid.  Up til now, we have gotten a call mere seconds before an attack a visit.  Not today.  This visit was a skud.  One of those you don't see until it's too late. 

It gets worse.  There is something that I sometimes do, not often, but sometimes, called "pushing the litter box envelope."  You can use your imagination on that one.  It wasn't bad, but with Alice's ninja nose, I was pretty much screwed. 

I really don't quite have the rules down, or understand the points system in this game that I play with my mother-in-law.  She would deny any such game exsists. Some of you out there might even think that I am imagining the whole game thing, but I assure you, it exists and we are aparently playing dirty now, so I must soldier on and try to break even.  Today, my worthy opponent got a butt-load of points.

I was hiding in the shower when she left,so I didn't see her, but I know that where ever she is, she has the evil grin of victory on her face. 

Curses!

...BUT I NEED THE EGGS

"Mom.  You need to shut off the computer and take me to the store to get eggs, please." 
Long pause...
There is a joke I heard a long time ago.  This guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doctor, I don't know what to do.  My brother thinks he is a chicken.  He clucks and pecks at his food.  He even tries to fly."  The Doctor replied very concerned.  "You need to get him some professional help."  "I would," said the man,"but I need the eggs."

In my previous life as a working mom, my family learned to make do in my absence.  My oldest daughter, Mary, had a lot of responsibilities from an early age.  When I quit my job there was a brief period where I had to put our roles back in place and be the mom again.  Things went well for a long time and she seemed to be happy to exchange all that control for a semi-normal home.  For a few years now, Mary has pretty much planned her own birthday parties.  When she was ten she went online and booked a place called Laser Mania for a party of 12, gave me a list of things she needed and we had fun.  This was the norm for a while.  It worked well for both of us.  About a week ago I found her looking at me with her lips moving saying some words and some more words and some numbers, and then she kissed me on the cheek and said she loved me and took off.  This week, as I went about my business around the house, I noticed that it was really clean and organized.  Wondering what was going on I asked who was responsible for this.  Mary said, "I am, and I need you guys to try not to mess it up before my party on Friday."  Hmmmmmmm.  That must have been the words.  The numbers were, four friends coming over for a sleep over and a barbecue.  Great.  At that moment I didn't notice that my child was treating me like one of the kids.  I didn't really care, the house was clean. 

I think some of us may have reverted back to our old ways in the last little while.  I won't mention any names, but last night I suddenly became aware of more words and more words and Mary's lips moving again. 
"MOM!  you need to make those kids clean up after themselves.  This is the third time this week I have cleaned the kitchen!"
By this time Jared and I had looked up from our computers and were looking at her with a blank stare.  I am usually at the receiving end of the blank stare.  What was happening?  The Old Mary was back and I was very afraid.  "Ok,"  we said and promptly chastised "those kids" for their messiness.  I'm sure many of you are rolling your eyes wondering what my problem is, but isn't step one to realize you have a problem?  So, back off.

Today is the day of the sleepover.  Mary came in with her list of demands errands she needed me to run for the party.  she also requested that I take the car to have it cleaned, so it would be nice and tidy for her friends.  I still really wasn't very appalled by the way she was treating me, after all, these were reasonable requests.  Who cares if she talks to me like I'm ten.  I talk to her like she is 40, so we are even.  Besides, I didn't have to do any of the thinkin' part of the party. 

Mary is home from school now and is getting the last minute things ready.  The house is clean and the car is clean so I think she won't mind if I play on the computer for a little while.

"Mom.  I need you to get off the computer and take me to the store to get eggs, please.  We need some for breakfast tomorrow."

I don't want to get off the computer.  After all, I paid for the computer and the electricity and EVERYTHING!  Who does she think she is?  I am the mom, It's my house.  I am in charge.  I quickly jumped up and marched over to her, stepping over the laundry she had folded, and into...into the really nice clean kitchen...with the yummy stuff that she had just taken out of the oven.  Wow.  Awesome.

I really did need the eggs.

"Ok," I said boldly..."but I get to drive."

SAME STUFF DIFFERENT HOUSE

Well, we have moved and I find myself in what can only be categorized as a hands-off-mom hell.  A neighborhood.  Sure, I have great neighbors, I am close to town, my kids have someone to play with.  It's all fun and games, til the door bell rings.  I am just not used to this.  In our old wilderness house, no one ever just stopped by.  We were not on the way to anything and anyone wishing to see us called to make sure they wouldn't miss us.  We have had more visitors in the last 3 weeks than we had in the 15 years we lived at our other house.  It's been a real adjustment.  Bra day is now 3 times a week, and I only spend the day in pajamas on Saturday.

About ten seconds after we moved in, we received a call from the bishopric of our new ward.  They wanted to "welcome us".  That's Mormon speak for "we want you to do something hideous".  They came over to visit and as it turns out, are very nice guys.  Brother Patterson said that he couldn't wait for us to be introduced to the rest of the ward members.
" So, are you throwing us a party?"
"No, we want you to speak."
"Speak to whom?"
"The ward."
"Did they do something wrong?"

I knew at once that I was not going to win this one, so we said yes and got it over with last weekend.  The whole family spoke, and I must say, it was very nice.  Tuesday when I got the mail there was a thank you note from one of the ward members.  As long as I live, I will never have my stuff that together.  I'm just sayin'.

So, we moved into this new house, and I was bound and determined to keep up with housework.  Oh, my gosh!  It never ends.  I start at the crack of dawn and do laundry and pick up crap and hang things up and make the kids read and do homework and wipe their feet and bathe and brush their teeth and stop fighting, I pass out around 11 p.m. and the whole thing starts over the next day.  I work so hard to keep on top of everything, but the kids still end the day looking like the cast of Oliver.  It's exhausting.  Oh, Oh, and the worst part-the more you do, the more they expect.  Now it's like, if there are no towels, somehow it's my fault.  The up side to all of these expectations?  I wield a lot more power these days.  I have learned a wonderful new phrase.  "You can't go play until your room is picked up." 

I am the master and commander.  I am Mom.

HOBBIT CHIC

So...it's back to school time again and time to go shopping.  In preparation for this I got out all my ads together to stratigery..ize and come up with a good plan.  As I looked through each paper I came this conclusion.  It's apparently only back to school FOR HOOKERS!!!  What is with the clothes?  I don't know what goes on in other schools, but my kids wouldn't be able to wear half of this crap to school even if I let them.  Since when did a visible bra strap become couture?  I suppose I am a little bitter because I spent the morning looking at the models who's thighs are the same size as their ankles, but it is just not fair.  And while we are on the subject, what is the deal with "women's" clothes?  Just because you are not a junior does not mean you are 5 ft tall and round with a passion for floral prints.  It does not mean that you have lost your waist as well as your desire to look attractive.  In my opinion once you turn 40 there are 2 things you should cover,  your upper arms and your fanny.  The clothes in this group of ads manage to miss on both counts.  They have very short sleeves and are cut an inch below the waist.  I know this is meant to minimize the mid section. News flash: IT DOESN'T WORK!  Is the recession so bad that we can't add just a little more fabric to the length?  Here is an idea, why don't you take the yard of extra material from the mid section of the shirt and add it to the sleeves?! Or are we meant to pay for our snacking sins by having to wear the fashion equivalent of the scarlet letter?  Is it so much to ask to find something that is not from the Linda Ronstadt collection?  I think not.  I would go on but I just came across a section of something called "skinny jeans"  Go get me the big knife!

CHECK PLEASE!!!

Allow me to share with you the third world dining experience I had today.  We have been eating out a lot these days since we are in the process of moving.  Today after we had spent a good part of the day running errands, I decided to take the kids somewhere different for lunch.  Mission accomplished.  We ventured over to Hurricane City and decided to try a little Mexican restaurant we had passed many times over the years.  I pulled into the parking lot and noticed it was empty.  This should have been my first warning, but I missed it and we walked in the doors.  We were greeted with the worst smell I have ever smelled, (and I have been to the Great Salt Lake). Somebody light a match!!! Alex had dashed for the bathroom and some sad looking Latin boy had greeted us or I would have made a run for it, so we sat.  He passed us our menus and left, giving me a chance to shudder without making him feel badly.  This is when a normal mom would have taken her kids and left for Burger King, but no, I figured I could think my way out of this one.  I started looking at the menu for items I knew would have to be heated to a high enough temperature to kill whatever it was that I smelled walking in.  Luckily, Emily always gets mac-n-cheese, so she was safe.  Alex, Mary and I spun the wheel of intestinal distress and chose tacos.  We gave the menus back and I fished around my purse for a moist towelette left over from Daphne's stay. 

As we sat waiting for our food, while listening to a flurry of can openers working, I took a moment to take in the decor.  Ya...so I am not one to judge an others taste, after all, I lived in my home for 10 years and only bought one picture because Jared's shrink said he should have a picture of water, but I digress.  The establishment was decorated the with obligatory parrot in a swing, as well as chili peppers and the like, but then something went wrong.  There was a Chinese lantern as well as a lei on the fire extinguisher.   As I wiped down the salt and pepper shakers, I noticed they didn't match...anything.  No, wait!  That's not true.  All of the items in the restaurant had the same kind of greasy film on them, yet I stayed.  The waiter brought us our chips and salsa and offered us drinks. 

"We'll pass on the milk today, just water please."

I tried to think back to biology class and remember if jalapenos could kill bacteria.  I thought they did so I encouraged the kids to fill up. 

"Mommy?  Why are you laughing?
"Because your stories are so funny...go on."

The staff was obviously caught off guard by the crush of absent patrons so it took a while for our food to get there.  Soon the sad Latin boy returned with our order.

"Can I get you something else?"

Hmmmmmm.  So many things leaped to mind.  A broom perhaps?

"No, thank you"
'Mom, should we pray?"
"Ohhh ya."

The food looked surprisingly good.  I hesitated before putting the sour cream on my dish, but then again, sour cream is spoiled to begin with so I risked it.  I ordered a chicken taco, I got pelican or kangaroo, but it was ok.  Everyone seemed happy enough.  Mary politely ate her beans and rice but passed on the taco.  As the meal came to an end, another set of hapless creatures came in for lunch.  They seemed blissfully unaware of the rank stench that greeted them.  They appeared to be regulars.  Well, they aren't going to be regular for long.  I'm just sayin'

The sad Latin boy brought us the check and a box.  What an optimist.  We payed the check and went outside and exhaled.  I got into my car and noticed ours was the only one there with all the doors and bumpers the same color.   I felt so fancy.  As we pulled out of the parking lot, we were passed by another fancy car.  We all yelled to try to warn them, but they kept going. 

Aside from the occasional desire to scrape our tongues, we survived.  I am appalled that rather than hurt the feelings of the sad Latin boy, I subjected my kids to that place, but most of all, I am appalled that I have a little box of leftovers in the fridge.  Who is the opptimist now?

DANCES WITH TWINKES

Alright.  It's a well know fact that I have struggled with my weight since I was 6 mo. old.  Yes, really, Dr. Heng put me on a diet when I was a baby.  There was never a chance for me.  I have struggled and dieted and exercised and listened to a whole lot of skinny people tell me how to eat healthy meals.  Blah blah blah.  For the last few years I have had a reprieve from this.  I had taken off weight and for the first time in years I didn't think about it every waking moment.  It was bliss.  Then I looked away for a moment, left my very active job, and stayed home eating chips and watching TV all day a little.  I realized I had put on a few pounds, but worse!  It has happened to the whole family!!! I am the fat whisperer.  Everyone who comes near me puts on at least 30 pounds.  So, about 2 weeks ago I started back on a program of say it with me: eating right and exercising.  I can't believe I am so out of shape.  Now the funny part.  Since I have been say it with me: eating right and exercising, I feel better.  Could it be that all this misery and depression could have stemmed from the Hobbit Diet?  Wow.  Now I just have to drag the kids along for the ride.  We are moving into a home 1 mile away from a huge park with tennis courts and a splash pad and equipment.  I can't wait.  Neither can the kids.  They can walk anywhere they want.  It is a great location.  We shut off the Devil Box (the tv) and the kid are getting out a lot more. 
I can do this.  I go get second breakfast now:)

I GOT SCHOOLED!!!

Howdy.  Before I tell you about the last month of  my life, let me go back a few years for background purposes.  I had a great mom.  She died in 2003 after a long bout with trying to ruin my life.  I won.  I was raised well.  I was well educated, I learned about the arts from a very early age.  I think my sisters would agree that we were probably the only girls around who would recite Shakespeare while milking the cow.  We would bottle peaches and listen to classical music.  She took me to church every week, and as a result, I am an active member of my local church and have, what I believe to be, a very good life.  Thank you, Mom.  However, today we are talking about housework.  I don't know what really happened there.  My mom was well into her eating popcorn/reading the Enquirer phase when I would have been learning about housekeeping skills.  Her only instruction to me was "That house better be cleaned when I get home or you are grounded."  This was not much help. 

Fast forward 20 years and I find myself with a husband and 3 kids who eat food and wear clothes.  After the rude awakening my departure from the workforce caused, I tried to get a handle on the whole house work thing.  It has been rough.  If you hadn't noticed I have been in a bit of a mental slump of late, so imagine my horror when I remembered that my sister was coming to stay with me for a month.  To my credit, She had a nice cool clean room and a bathroom...that she shared with all my girls.  It went down hill from there.  I think the low point of the trip was when I texted her one morning from my room to hers that there was grape jelly and tortillas if she wanted anything for breakfast.  Ya...so sad.  I think Daph realized she was going to be at my house for a while, and having had a similar breakdown years ago, decided to help.  She carefully dragged me into the kitchen and said  "Do one load of clothes and one load of dishes today."  Hey, I can do that.  So, day after day we went through this and things started to improve.  Then one morning she came into my room and asked me where I kept my 'extra sheets'.  I looked at her with a blank stare.  "What do you mean...extra?"  "WHERE ARE THE EXTRA SHEETS?!"  she said. (like yelling is going to help)  "I don't have any." I said timidly, knowing the wrath soon to come my way.  "How do you wash your sheets?"  " We take them off on Saturday and wash them and put them back on."  Bear in mind, at this point I think she is nuts.  Who has extra sheets?  What next?...extra towels...pillowcases?  Where does it end?  So she tenderly sat me down and explained to me what normal housewives do.  It was alot like the time my folks told me about the birds and the bee's.  It sounded bizarre and logistically impossible and why would anyone want to do this? 

I now have extra sheets.  Thank you Daph.  Now, don't get me wrong I do have some housekeeping skills.  I clean faster than just about anyone I know.  Growing up we never had any kind of cleaning schedule, certainly not the militant set up the Heaton's had.  It was more like Armageddon cleaning.  So, if I had to clean, someone was coming over, I wanted someone to come over, or the house was being appraised.  I am fast but not consistent.  The story of my life.

This story has a happy ending.  My sister finally went home, the house was clean and I have come up with some kind of schedule.  It's not perfect.  Sometimes we just go play, after the dishes are loaded.  In fact!  I have given up most of my evil vices, coke and ativan and we found a house.  All is not lost.  Just for fun I went to my mother in law's (the perfect housewife...no really) house to see if she had these "phantom extra sheets" Daph claims everyone has.  Yup...about 40 sets.  Schooled again.  Bummer. 

I spoke to my wise brother-in-law, Brandon today.  We discussed how we don't want our kids to end up with some of our more hideous traits.  He mentioned that we merely have to evolve.  Do better than our parents did or follow in their steps concerning things that went well.  OK.  I can do this.  For heck's sake, I can milk a cow and recite Shakespeare.  Evolving is a piece of cake.

EVIL CHIPMUNKS FROM HELL

OMG! So there is really no way to make this long story short so I may as well just launch.  My in laws have a beautiful summer retreat at Panguich Lake, about 80 miles away from St. George.  It is a wonderful escape from the 100 plus degree summers we endure.  It was my husband's first love, and is spoken of in our family with the same reverence as The Oak Ridge Boys and the gospel.   Almost every summer the family hosts a reunion with Jared's 80 billion cousins, so we started bringing up an RV to accommodate our family and to serve as an escape pod for me and my anti-social tendencies.  Each year it just took a little work to get things ready after the long winter.  Well, it's that time again and my good mother in law called to let me know that I had to go up early to clean the RV.  She had taken a peak in our motor home and had noticed that some furry visitors had spent some time there and it would take a lot of time to clean it.  It was not a job that could be done the day we drove up for the start of the reunion.  She said it was a huge mess and mentioned that the chipmunks had placed pine cones in the drawers.  Right...like they opened the drawers with their little tiny paws and put their treasures in with our hot chocolate.  I did not buy the story.

It is a well know fact that Alice and I have slightly different ideas about spring cleaning.  I assumed this was just a well intentioned/fear mongering way to motivate me to get things ready for the reunion.  So, we went along with it and decided to venture up and see all the so-called "devastation" for ourselves.  Besides, it would be nice to get away from the heat and piddle around changing sheets and dusting.  Seriously...how much trouble can a few chipmunks be?

AAAAARRRRGH!!!!!

We opened the door and walked in.  It was like isle 5 of Robert's Crafts had barfed all over our motor home.  There were leaves and sticks and...stuff everywhere!  I made my way to the cupboards and couldn't open them.  Those furry little freaks had jam packed every single drawer with pine cones.  Oops! someone didn't put the seat down in the bathroom last fall so we had a toilet full of pine cones.  They were everywhere. They had gnawed off part of the couch and made nests out of it.  Somewhere in the distance I could hear laughing.  It was Mike and Alice rolling on the floor as they heard my shrieks of horror with each new discovery.  Even the varmints were enjoying the show!  I could hear them up in the trees heckling me.  Nature sucks.

I had decided that our only option was to light the thing on fire and push it off a cliff.  Too bad they ATE ALL THE MATCHES.  Too bad I had promised my kids I would stop swearing.  Luckily my in-laws had quit laughing long enough to bring us a vac and Jared took the first shift of vacuuming up the endless supply of pine cones and debris.  Oh.  did I mention I had brought up a guest? Ya, I dragged my sister up with the promise of a relaxing weekend. Yes, this is the sister who uses a moist towelette to open doors and puts the mayonnaise away before you have a chance to make the sandwich.  I'm sure she wont mind a little hanta virus. 

It actually was going better than I thought it would.  We took a break and went down to have a wonderful lunch my mother in law had made for us.  Even in the wilderness, she provides a well balanced meal complete with a table cloth and centerpiece.  Things were going well.  It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and a cool breeze was blowing.  My sister had put away her face mask and was enjoying lunch when my mother in law came up to her and pulled on her hair and said "Oh, its not a wig".  Mike was thinking that it was a wig."
What the hell?  I mean, where do you even go with that comment?  Sadly our happy break was over and we went back with our hanta masks and moist towelettes to clean. 

There are some things I never thought I would say, like "Oh good, its just a nest."  or  "did you get EVERY pine cone out of the toilet?" or "The squirrels are yelling at me.  After about five hours and a gallon of bleach, it was clean.  All the surfaces had been cleaned and sanitized and we had removed three garbage bags of pine cones.  Alice and my sister cleaned the windows.  We packed up and went home to the land of Internet and cell service and all was well in the land.  My sister just tends to spend a little more time looking in the mirror these days.  As for me and Alice?  I think it was a draw.

The other F word

Face book! OK, don't get me wrong.  I don't hate it.  I just don't understand it and it often leaves me just frightened and confused.  I have sort of been involved for about a year so I have given much more time than I give other things before I pass judgement and make fun of them.  So, the thing is...3 of my face book friends are actually the smartest people I know, I mean like way smart.  Because of this, in the back of my mind I know there is something awesome about face book and I obviously don't get it yet. Mom used to say "make believe until you come to believe" So I will  play along a little longer. 
I was reading some comments today and found out that Jill likes Daph's picture.  Well, ya...what is she gonna say?  I have some ideas for comments that might help me relate to face book better. 
"Jennifer does not like Kelcie's picture and thinks her kid looks like a monkey"
"Diane IS NOT friends with Lisa who is the same freak she was in high school, She just friended her to check out to see if she ended up looking like Ernest Borgnine. "
And, do I really need an e-mail to alert me that Dave likes a picture of the co-worker of my second cousin twice removed on his recent trip to Lego Land.  I don't think so...
And, I am not so socially messed up that I can't find my own friends.  I have been doing it for years with amazing success.  I actually got an e-mail urging me to help Mary Alice find friends.  Really?  That is my daughter you are talking about, Bozo!  She has plenty of friends.
OH! OH! and just for the record, I got up at 5:30 every morning and milked a cow and/or changed sprinklers and chased pigs until well after I was married.  I don't even know what this bizarre farm thing is, but I will have no part of it!!!
One more thing...poke???
"Laura thinks Liz is bitter."
For as long as I remember there have been three separate parts of my life, my work, my family and my friends and I have been very content venting about these groups to the other groups.  Well, now thanks to some "no talent a$$ clown", they are all in one place.  What next?  A service that puts a camera in your laptop and lets you talk to people face to face?  For the love of all things human!  Make it stop! Trust me, I do not need another electronic invention to distract me...oh look a kitty...what was I saying? 
So why do I do it? Why do I sign in every day?  Because it fascinates me.  Because all the smart and pretty people are doing it.   I have been out of the loop for fifteen years and in 1 month I have caught up with friends and family I haven't seen in ages.  Do I love it? Yes.  Will I continue to mock it?  Absolutely!  And if the face book god's smile upon me, one day I will become a believer.

What's that noise?

...Oh, its me.  It's 2 in the morning and I can't sleep...again.  This is happening a lot these days since I discovered the Internet and YouTube. Yes, I catch on slowly, but it looks like the web is here to stay so I am 100% on board.  Unfortunately, my poor sweet husband is what we in the slacker community refer to as a "morning person".  You know the kind...gets out of bed...for good.  He goes to bed every night at 10 and gets up every morning a little before 6 like clockwork.  He has no idea that most nights Ringo (the cat) and I wander through the house for hours looking for something to entertain us.  Tonight was one of those nights.  I was creeping through the house looking for my headphones,  I had to move slowly because I don't have  cat vision and for some reason there is always a 10 lb weight on the floor somewhere.  I think that is why Frankenstein walked so funny, so he wouldn't stub his toe.  Anyway, I was rummaging around by the bed and Jared woke up and I said hello and then he said "I wonder what keeps waking us up."  Uh... ok.  Seriously?   I assumed that each time he woke up he made a mental note that I was the one who had disturbed his sleep.  Not so.  Well, I'm not going to tell him.  He will take away my computer!  Surf's up dude!!!

A SEED WAS PLANTED...

A few months ago, Emily brought home a little plant in a foam cup that she had planted at school.  For 6 years one of these has come home in the spring time with one of the children.  No big deal, I know the gig.  It gets watered for a little while, then life or work or something gets in the way and a few weeks later I find a little brown pile of leaves and I chuck the plant.  Game on.  I put the little plant in the window and watered it from time to time whenever I was in the kitchen.  About a month ago Alex mentioned that the plant was too big for the cup so I put it in a larger container.  In the back of my mind I thought to myself that this plant had lasted much longer than the others had.  I guess it was pretty sturdy little plant to withstand us. I didn't think much more about it until this morning. 

I still didn't really think much about it until we were talking about how big this plant was and Emily said,
"Mom, you are home to take care of it." 
I was stunned.  I almost missed it.  What an amazing lesson my kids taught me about nourishment and care.  I struggle with a lot of the aspects of being a mom.  Some days are just plain hit and miss, but this flower represents so much more than an annoying little school project.  I look at it as a gentle reminder from God that every day is a chance to get better at it and to learn.

I dedicate this post to my little sunflowers.  I am here, I love you, and I will take care of you.

Love, Mom:)

Staples? We don't need no stinkin' staples!

OK, I'm all better now.  As we are getting ready move soon, I am trying to bring as few items into the house as possible.  We are sort of eating like bachelors as to not fill the house with extra stuff to move.  Well, as a result the cupboards are bare...I mean bare, so I was talking to Gatekeeper about shopping and I mentioned that I would pick up some staples on the way home.  Disgusted, Mary said, "We don't need staples, we need FOOD!  I love my kids. 

With the added energy I got from my little tirade yesterday, I decided to work on some other projects, one of which required scissors.  I looked for a good hour for a pair of scissors with no luck.  For some reason, there is not a single pair of scissors in the house.  I wondered why this was, and then I remembered:

2008-2010

Emily scissor hands!!!

The poor thing has cut her bangs every year for the last 3 years, usually right before class pictures.  So I gave up and got rid of all the scissors:)

We'll try again next year.

DO I LOOK LIKE A B@$&H?

Today started much like most of the other days started since I quit my job.  After listening to my husband gripe about money, I ventured into the kitchen and noticed that it was a mess... again.  I'm okay with that.  I made myself some oatmeal and got a coke and went back into my dark bedroom where I spend much of my time these days.  Some people call it depression, I call it Monday.  Anyway, after getting a call from my mother in law I felt a tad motivated to do something, so I went into my living room to start picking up.  My kids were watching tv so I couldn't really do much in that zone of hell, so I went to the laundry room. Oh, back up.  Why don't you have your kids help?  Really?  Ok, well another thing that I have discovored on this journey is that I can't deal with my kids.  I lack that certain skill set.  They do whatever they want, when every they want and I still let them go to their friends house and play so I can spend more time in my dark room.  So I went to use the utility room bathroom and it didn't flush...no fear I took off the top so I could fish around for the chain as I have been trained BECAUSE NOTHING EVER WORKS IN OUR FLIPPING HOUSE, only to find that there was no water in which to fish. 

boom...

Thats ok, I'm sure the gatekeeper can fix it.  So I continued on.  I went to start sweeping the clothes on the floor...what? you dont sweep your clothes? I started sweeping the clothes and GK came in and asked me why I was crying.  I hadn't noticed.  I told him about the toilet, to which he promptly replied, "Oh, I shut the water off to it because no one ever uses it."  And then came my favorite!  "I'm so sorry, that's my fault."  Ya, dumb a! It's your fault.  I of course didn't say that because that's something that someone with another skill set would say.  I wen't on sweeping and then for the third time this month...the broom broke in half.

BOOM!!!!

I have a skill set.  It's watching movies and quoting movies and watching more movies.  It was at this moment that I thought of one of my favorite movies Pulp Fiction and said to myself "What would Mr. Wallis do?"  Well, in the movie, he would call upon one of his "pipe hittin'...friends to get a blow torch and a pair of pliers" to take care of someone who had upset him, and "get medevil on yo a$$!" 

I guess that is what some would call an epiphany.  I marched outside and got the big trash can...ya, the one by the street, and brought it into the room of the primary offenders, those who had trashed their room, poked holes in the walls, writen in their closets...I started sweeping with my little tragic broom, and together we threw it all in the garbage can.  ALL OF IT!  The sad little doll that hasn't been played with since the Clinton administration, the endless piece of crap pictures and cut outs and crayons and barbie shoes and the...forks and plates?  What the hell?!  Anyway.  I got rid of all of it...most of it...I saw them  poking their heads from behind the barbie house, looking at me as if to say "you wouldn't dare!"  O I would, and I did.  I threw away the barbie orgy!  FREEDOM.

I had the gatekeeper take the garbage can back out to the street.  Then I took my final step into my new bad ass world and dumped the litter box on top of it.  It aint comin back! 

Oh darn.  My kids are crying.  I wonder why.  Better check it out}:)

A BEAUTIFUL DAY

What a beautiful weekend we had.  My sweet niece, Afton was baptized on Sunday and almost all my sissy in laws were here.  It was great to see them.  But let me back up.  Mary came home from camp on Friday and told me all about it.  It's great to have her back.  Things seem to have changed since I went to camp back in the 80's.  They went to heber valley and stayed in CABINS! What's that all about?  They got to go on zip lines and do all sorts of fun stuff.  Really? I don't know, but she seemed to have fun.  I don't know if she learned how to cook an entire meal in tin foil like I did, or if she can save any ones life, but by darn, she can zip down a cable to their safety and sing songs to any injured party if she has too.  I make fun, but she came back with wonderful and spiritual stories of her time there, and that is what it's all about. 

So, a few weeks ago when I was working, I got into a knock down, drag out with my boss, Summers Eve, and afterwards took a short break to talk to my husband.  He was well aware of the situation there and had always been very supportive.  Things had mounted to the point where work had become unbearable.  Not only did I work for the grand master douche, but I was not ever seeing my kids.  I would work until 11 o'clock and they would be asleep when I got home, and I would barely be awake when they left in the morning.  Well, taking all that into consideration, I asked Jared if I could quit. He very compassionately said yes.  I gave notice and, well, here we are.  About 10 minutes after I worked my last shift, Jared started asking me when I was planning to go back. 
"I quit"
"Ya, but you're still going to work, right?"
"Uh, no. I quit"
"Oh."
This is now pretty much the conversation I have with him just about every day.  Oops. So, I mustered up some giblets and suggested that he perhaps pick up some extra time at his job or, heaven forbid, he get another job.  Mumble mumble, he is working today on his day off.  Let the games begin. I guess I better get this house spic and span!
There's a new grand master in town:)

HEADLINE: 2012 NOT THE END OF THE WORLD

I was awakened this morning by my very relived and happy 7-year old.
"MOM?!"
"Yes"
"Did you know that 2012 is not going to be the end of the world?"
"How do you know that?" 
"Because the calendar on Mary's phone goes all the way to 2099!"

You gotta love Emily.  All statements from her always begin the same way.
"Guess what?  Did you know?..."

This has been a great week, Mainly because Mary is at camp, but also because I have made significant progress cleaning my house.  In the 2 weeks I have been home I have cleaned 1 room.  I am very proud...  I was very proud, that is, until I talked to my mother in law.  It was around 8 am and I was sitting drinking a diet coke, watching TMZ like I do most mornings when Alice called to inform me that she had been up since 5, Walked, worked out at the gym with her husband, done 3 loads of clothes (and she actually puts her stuff in drawers and closets), made her bed, paid the bills and read her scriptures.  For those of you who doubt this, I have verified.  Trust me, no BS there.  She really does all that.  This is why I tend to give up easily.  There is no way, no matter how much training or humiliating experiences I endure, that I will every have it together like that.  But, in my defense, I can name all of the Kardashian sisters have been fully briefed on all must-have items for summer.  Take that Alice:)

A MORMON GOT MY BABY!!!

Our little girl is growing up.  I dropped Mary off at 5 a.m. to leave for camp.  My normally non morning person of a daughter was ready to go at 4:00, about the time I stumbled out of bed barely able to see. It's amazing to watch your kids grow up.  I must thank Summers Eve (my former boss) for being too special for me to be able to work with.  It was so much fun hanging out with her.  She woke up with the hick-ups, and spent the morning griping about it, so I did what any normal mom would do...I screamed and slammed on the breaks in the middle of the road.  The hick ups stopped :)

We had a parting hot chocolate at Maverick and were able to visit for a while until I dropped her off at her designated spot...and then she was gone.  It was a lot like kindergarten without the tears, just the melancholy.  As much as I make fun of my chosen religion, I was able to drive away with confidence that she would be back n a week a better, stronger girl.  I love you Mary. I will miss you!

school's out for the summer

   After about 2 weeks of catching up on my sleep and my tivo shows, I decided I had stalled long enough.  I ventured out of my room and went into the living room.. I was shocked.  The mess was not something my simple children could have pulled off.  this was a professional hit.  Things were knocked over, the cushions were off the couch, ALL of my laundry was on the floor in suspicious piles.  The hit man even left his calling card.  there was a smiley face made out of mashed potatoes on the window.  It was like a scene out of a movie.  My head was spinning and my life flashed before my eyes as potato face mocked me in the window and I the backyardagains played in the background. 
.............I'll try again tomorrow.


I

THE COPS HAVE RAIDED MY HOUSE!!!!!

That's the only plausible explanation!  I can't possibly have raised a family of hideous slobs.  I can't possibly be one myself.  There is just no way.   I decided that I had to start seriously working as a "good mom" this morning instead of the usual morning routine of "Mom! I need clothes!"
"just get some out of the clean smelling pile"
"there is no clean smelling pile"
"okay...bring me the febreze..."

As I sat in my bed deciding how to best tackle the house I decided to make contact with my conscience who currently resides in vernal.  I sent a text to daph, my sister, as to how to best start getting control of my house.  I sent her a text requesting a game plan...her game plan?  "watch some TV."  I love that woman. 

I can do this.  I am an educated woman!  I have the capacity to figure out how to get the house clean.  I will start with the sink. i read somewhere that if you start to clean with the sink then...ooooo Dr oz is on.....

Howdy! I am the hands off mom. I was given this nickname by me best pal, Jill after I chastised her for her control freak parenting skills. I don't know if it is good or bad, but I choose to embrace the name. I recently quit my job after 20 years and have decided to share the experience of staying home. I hope you enjoy.

Today was my first day of freedom! YEA! Yea. yea...now what? I guess today should be a day of reflection. After many years in the world of pharmacy, I recently realized that things have changed a lot. There is a culture of dishonesty that been growing and spreading like the stuff in the pool if you don't catch it early. As I attempted to work things out with my boss, (aka summers eve), I soon clued in that he and the three people above him, are big fat liars...complete with pants on fire. So, rather than sit and watch the place implode, I chose to quit. I would love to know the dollar figure was that made each of these "un"supervisors sell out and decide it was OK to chuck their values. Well, I could harp on this forever, but I guess I'll move on

I am the mother of 4 girls who you will get to know as this goes along, I am terrified! My oldest, Mary, is 12 and her mother has worked as long as she has been alive. I have always had the excuse that my house is a shambles and the laundry is not done because "mom has to work" Well, I am out of excuses.

We are getting ready to move, let me rephrase. A freeway is going through our house so we are moving soon. As I wandered through the house, trying to come up with a game plan, I realized one thing. MY KIDS ARE INSANE! Really, who writes on the inside of their closet. Emily and Alex have some kind of art fest going inside the closet. Its time for them to come out of the closet! I told Emily that now that I was staying home more we could be a normal family again. She promptly replied "what do you mean, again," She is 7. I have my work cut out for me.

I go now, I have the distinct pleasure of replacing a toilet seat and making a diner...after i watch the last 3 months of NCIS on tivo:)