THE WHEELS ON THE BUS...

I would like to preface this post by stating that I love my sweet husband more than anything else in the world.  He is the kindest man I have ever met and he would do anything for his family as long as it doesnt' inconvenience him in any way or make him work past 3 pm.

That having been said, recently since we moved into the "big house", I don't feel quite the financial freedom I had in previous years.  Our financial plan has always been the same.  Jared snatches the checks, pays all the bills and then we land on the bank like piranhas snatching the last little bit of money to spend on our own selfish needs. Jared has made an huge effort to keep us financially fit and to provide for our future, however, somewhere in his plan he forgot that his family has to eat and occasionally buy clothes.  Thus begins the battle.

In the past when the gatekeeper has told me I couldn't spend any money I would do one of two things.  I would pick up overtime hours or pick up another job.  Well, after my most recent 10 hour overtime stint as I sat huddled in the bathtub with scalding water pouring on my body to make the pain stop, I had what some call an epiphany.  Why do I have to work more?  I got out of the tub, took some pain pills and sat down with my husband.

Jared has worked from 7 to 3 since the day I met him.  There was a brief time in the nineties when he worked retail, but quickly when back to what he knows and loves.  He is always off by 3.  I wonder why he can't pick up a few hours?

"Hey, do you think you could pick up a few hours?"
"No.  I have too much to do on Mondays."
"Like what?"
"Laundry, dishes. stuff like that."
"Well, really that's something I can do with the kids.  We could really use the money if you would pick up some more hours."
"What we really need is to cut our spending more."
"Well, I have cut a lot of spending, we just could use a little more money and if you can do that, it would really help our family.
"I'll see, I need to talk to my boss."

In Jared speak, that means no.  I was mad.  Mad and still in pain.  I have just rearranged my schedule so I am home with the kids when they get home from school.  I can't work more. 

I went along with my life all pissed off until Sunday night.  I played piano for the Priesthood preview.  I sat playing looking at the people as they wandered in, and then I saw him.  The man who was going to solve all my problems.  The bishop.  He is a smartly dressed man.  He has a beautifully dressed wife who is happy all the time.  They definitely understand the need for disposable income.  He would certainly empathise with my special needs and best of all, he would make Jared work more hours while praising me for my unwavering commitment to spending more time with our children.  Win win. 

I promptly made an appointment with the bishop.  I was so excited. Jared reminded me that I had an appointment at 3 and that he would be glad to drive me there.  Somewhere deep inside, i know he had a feeling I was going to throw him under the bus so he figured he should be in there to minimize the damage.   I was given an incorrect time so I was a half hour early.  It was OK.  I found an Ensign to read but as I began to read, there seemed to be a disturbing trend.  All the articles were on provident living,  budgets, living within your means.  I was amazed and touched by the stories I was reading about people going through the same things I was.  I know that Jared was reading some of the same things.  It was a very reverent enjoyable time.  What beautiful and timely message.  I still planned to throw him under the bus, but I had pure intentions.

I went into the bishop and layed it all out on the table about how hard I was working and that I never get any money and that Jared could work more but he wouldn't because he is bad, and can he fix it. 

"I would love to help."  he said.  "let 's bring Jared in and talk about your concerns." 
Yippee!!! I was so excited.  Someone who Jared truly respected and slightly feared was going to command him to work longer.  I was free.

Jared came in and sat down looking frightened.
 The bishop started out with pleasantries and shared how many couples find themselves in the same spot.  Then he uttered one of the worst sentences I had ever heard.
"Well I happen to be an accountant by trade." My blood ran cold.  I knew at that very moment there would be no tire tracks on my husband that night.
How could I have missed that!  An accountant?!  Somehow I knew that my future would involve the 2 things I despise the most.  A ledger and discipline.  Foul word. 
I tried to backtrack and remove all the buzz words that tend to lead accountants to do the evil things they do, but it was too late.  With a gleam in his eyes he presented us with a work sheet. 
"Have you ever done a budget?"
He then uttered what I believe was the second worst sentence I had ever heard. 
"When I do my annual budget..."  Yikes.  I'm in trouble.There was a moment when I thought I still might have a shot at getting Jared to pick up some extra work when the bishop said:

"And Jared, you may want to explore some options where you may get the chance to increase revenue" 
Well, sadly Jared is not a wordsmith.  I saw him perk up and say "Sure, I can do that, I just can't work any more hours than I do now."

Our poor bishop look so confused, but I assured him we would talk about it.

So here I sit nursing a gigantic Carma bite out of my backside.  I should have known better to use a church leader to manipulate my husband.  We live and learn.

I have to go now to gather all the receipts from the car and my purse.  Wish me luck, and please send coke money!!!!

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.  You are loved.

Liz

AAAAAARGH!!!!!

Ok, so we all knew this day was coming. 

A little while back Emily got glasses.  For a few months things went really well and the glasses made it to school in one piece.  Sure, I got the occasional call from school that she had forgotten her glasses, but for the most part she was responsible.  Well, a few days ago I came home from work...oh ya, I went back to work, and I found her glasses on the table broken in two.  Everyone was asleep so I couldn't get the total BS story til in the morning.  The story is that Mary was tormenting Emily to the point that she had an incredible hulk moment and while going "grrrrrr" the glasses broke in two. 

I remained calm, after all, I am the new and improved mom that knows just how to deal with these situations.  I explained to Emily that glasses cost money.  I told her how much money I made an hour and how many hours I had to stay away from my kids to pay for a new pair of glasses.  I also threw in the obligatory, "this makes Heavenly Father sad" part just to cover all the bases.  I told her that her dad and I had decided that she needed to pay for the new glasses by pulling all the weeds in the back yard and by helping Grandma with a project. I rocked!  I proudly told everyone how well I had handled this and what a great lesson it was for Emily.   Every day I have been reminding her that she had to earn the money by Friday so we could get her new glasses.  I had it all figured out...or so I thought.

I came home today and Emily and her bike were gone.  I asked the girls where she was and they said she was at Sister Hansen's house.
"Why?"
"She's pulling weeds."
"Why???"
"To pay for the glasses.  She has been going to the neighbors asking if she can work to earn money to buy glasses because her mom will have to work extra if she doesn't."
"WHY!!!!!!"

I ran through the house shouting all manner of foul words then I sent the Rollerblade patrol to do damage control.  It has taken a month to rehab our image since the St. Patricks day party.  Why can't we just be the normal family for once.  I'm keeping the lights off and the blinds pulled so the relief society doesn't show up with shoes and apples for the "poor family."

Well, I have to go so I can make a giant banner that reads "It was an object lesson!  I'm not a mean mom!!"
Just shoot me.

NOW BOARDING

Yesterday was an hysterical historic day in St. George.  We got a brand new cutting edge tiny airport in St. George.  Several months ago a quartet I play in was asked to provide background music for a few hours.  We were asked to start playing at 2:15 so I picked up Jared at 1:30 and we started what is supposed to be a twenty minute drive.  As we took the brand new exit to the airport we encountered something we really hadn't planned; a traffic jam.  After driving for a half hour and only going about five miles, I started to panic.  I called Misty, the leader of our group, who had left quite a bit earlier that we had, and she was only a few miles ahead of us.  She had made a few calls and found out that even the dignitaries were stuck in traffic.  Oops.  It turns out that Dieter Ukdorf, who gave the dedicatory prayer, flew in so he was there, but the rest of St. George was on the southern parkway watching the poor Nellis Jets circle for about an hour waiting for the flyby that was postponed.  It was that moment that I decided that if the group responsible for this oversight was also in charge of air safety, I would continue to fly out of Vegas. 

After we had been in traffic for about an hour, I saw the police coming up behind me with a couple of black Tahoes following behind.  A police escort!  Yes.  I was getting ready to dart out and join them when Jared shrieked and said "NO!"  He scared the heck out of me so I missed my window to move.
"If you start following them you will be arrested." 
"They won't know that we aren't supposed to be in the group."  I argued.
"We're in a mini van."
Ouch.

We finally got up to the airport and the event staff was directing people to a parking lot a mile away.  I opened my window and told them that I was a musician and was supposed to be playing now.
"You were supposed to be playing an hour ago."  He said, and directed us to the front before I could curse at him. 

We got in and set up and were ready to play.  We started playing as soon as the ribbon cutting was over and the crush of people was milling through the facility checking things out.  I enjoy playing background music, but it is a strange experience.  It's almost like you are transformed into a zoo animal.  People come right up to you and talk like you can't hear them.  We have little kids poking us and the obligatory "guest conductor" who thinks it's funny to come up and start leading us.  Ha ha.  Now GIT.  It was absolute chaos and then everyone went in mass to another area.  There were some people sitting behind us and I heard one woman say. "They're like the musicians on the Titanic, they just keep playing when everyone leaves."
I turned around while I was still playing and shot her the death ray and she looked so embarrassed.  They quickly fled.  The second round of patrons came in next.  A couple of other people thought it would be fun to ask us questions while we were playing.  Just in case any of you are tempted to do this...don't.  It is almost impossible to count and talk at the same time and if you turn your head to acknowledge, you invariably loose your place in the music.  We even had people kneel in front of us and behind for pictures.  I felt like one of the giraffes.

It was fun though to be a part of it. We played until about six and then took some time to look around.  There is nothing as beautiful as the scenery out there.  The airport is about a half mile away from our old house and it was the reason we had to move in the first place, but after seeing the tiny airport, I figured it was ultimately worth it so all the tiny passengers can get away when they need to.  I spent most of my life living out in that area.  On the ride home the scenery was breathtaking. The colors were so beautiful as the sun set.  It was worth going out there for the view alone.  It was amazing to see it from a different perspective and for that I am grateful.

PRIDE GOETH...

Tonight was such a great night.  We took Emily to a stake meeting for all the little kids who are going to be baptized.  We got there a few minutes early and we able to sit back and people watch.  At some point I noticed a girl I had known since junior high.  She was known as my, well I don't know if it's referred to as arch rival or Nemesis, or arch Nemesis, but she was it.  You know the person at school who just drove you crazy.  Well I am older and more tolerant now.  I am sure after all these years I have moved on.
Of course she was in charge of the meeting.  She looked really really old and not at all the princess I remembered.  I felt good, sitting with my handsome husband and beautiful daughter and minimal wrinkles.  I was the queen...then it happened.  My phone went off.  Yes, folks.  We are the people whose phone goes off at church.  It wasn't the ringer, because I had set it to silent on the way in, it was the alarm we have that goes off every night at 7:00 to remind us to read our scriptures.  You know the alarm that goes on and on until you shut it off.  I couldn't find the phone.  I was fumbling around in horror trying to shut the darn thing off when my handsome husband stepped in. 
"You need to shut that off!"
No kidding.  I gave him the look.  So, not only was I humiliated in public, I was caught giving my husband the death ray in front of witnesses which included my bishop and his councilor who were sitting right in front of us.  I finally found it in the pocket of Emily's coat.  By that time everyone in the chapel was looking at the crazy lady frantically digging for the offensive item.  I will never scoff at that woman again.
I just thank heavens that I changed my ringer from "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osborne. 

Then the ultimate insult.  After the meeting, the Nemesis in question came up to me and said, "Hello, Lou.  I didn't realize you were in our ward."

Lou?  Really?  Isn't it the job of your arch rival to at least get your name right?  I was thinking of getting back together with my minions at the lair to plan our revenge when I remembered something.  I am 44 years old and my daughter is being baptized in March.  Time to grow up. 

I believe that is one of the seven commandments.

AND THE OSCAR GOES TO...

And the nominees for best performance in a drama by a drama queen are:
 
Emily Heaton.

Mom:  Emily, please pick up all the clothes you left on the bathroom floor.

Emily:  Falls to the floor sobbing.  "I have to do everything!  I never get to play with my friends.  Everyone hates me."

Mom:  Makes an obscene gesture in her mind... and scene.


Emily Heaton.


Emily:  While eating dinner, coughs softly, checks to make sure everyone is watching, falls to the ground.  "I was choking!  No one helped me.  I could have died!!!"
And scene.

Emily Heaton.

Emily:  Stands gaping at the TV as an ASPCA commercial solicits funds to help save animals.  Starts to sob and runs to mom.
"Mom! you have to send them money or they are going to kill that dog!  I mean it.  Hurry!!!
And scene.


Emily Heaton.

Emily:  MOM!!!  You have to help me with my homework NOW or I will have to give Mrs. Pollock five tokens!  I think it is a coincidence that you don't help me.

Mom:   "Do you even know what coincidence means?"

Emily:  Sobbing, "No, because you wont help me with my homework."  Falls to the floor.
And Scene.

And the winner is?  Anyone who doesn't live here.  What a diva.

WHAM, BAM...

Thank you, Santa.  What a strange experience.  I started the season off with a bang.  Since my birthday is on the fifteenth of December, my family is forbidden from even thinking about Christmas until after my birthday.  This year, since we were in a new house and I was not working, I decided we would go all out and actually have the tree up before the 23rd.  I also was hell-bent on having Christmas lights up this year.  Jared spent several hours putting the lights up, he made sure they worked before he put them up, we went to turn them on, and...no switch.  Yes, there is a Christmas switch, but we couldn't find it.  I gave up.  But the lights were up.  Thanks Jared:)

I don't want to be a downer, but most years I dreaded Christmas.  It seemed like I never was able to do any shopping until a few days before Christmas. We would get a tree and it would sit there for a few days til one of the kids snapped and decorated it.   I would do a bunch of shopping and then I would have to stay up all night getting things ready, wake at the crack of dawn, open presents, sleep all day, and then go back to work.  It wasn't much fun.  Where was Jared during all this?  He has the same philosophy about wrapping presents that he does about making his bed.  Why bother.  One year I asked him to wrap the presents and I came home to a bunch of garbage bags stapled shut.  We just don't go there anymore.  This year was different.  Our family shopped and wrapped and sang Christmas songs all season.  We watched a bunch of Christmas movies and made candy for neighbor gifts.  It was the most wonderful time of the year.  Since Santa didn't have to come in at the last minute to do clean up, he was able to do some fun things like send the kids on a scavenger hunt and leave fun notes for everyone.  It was magical.  We were actually able to sit as a family and listen to the First Presidency Message.  We were able to read about the birth of Christ.  We were a normal family for a brief and beautiful moment. 

And then it was over. 

There is this unfortunate period of time I have discovered that is the week between Christmas and New Years.  I finally live in a neighborhood where my kids can play during this time, they all had new bikes.  Nothing could ruin it...but rain.  Yes, it rained here for five days straight.  It even snowed once or twice.  Yikes.  We don't do snow here. 

Our wonderful neighbors planned a New Years party and since Mary was going to babysit for about fourteen kids, we decided to have a kid party at our house.  As we cleaned up our house and put away the decorations, Mary made a discovery.  The Christmas switch.  I couldn't believe it!  We turned the lights on just in time for New Years. 

So here we are.  The kids went back to school today.  It was back to just me and Ringo hanging out.  Everything is put away and back to normal.  It may be over, but I will never forget my hands on Christmas.