Archives for November 2005

I guess someone thinks my tender, heartfelt sentiments are funny because I’m a finalist for a Blogs of Beauty Award in the Humor category. I really think I should have been nominated in the Best Special Effects category for my tinsel halo. I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

But now, I have a beet of a problemo and I may not be posting anything until after December le Sixth.

I have “The Twinge.”

This started years ago. I can never be funny on purpose, not really funny. I can tell jokes I’ve heard before just well enough to get a polite “heh heh” from my friends but when I try to be really funny, I can’t do it.

It can only happen by accident. Whenever I accidentally say or write something hilarious, I’m just as surprised as any of my teary-eyed chortling friends. That’s when it comes……”The Twinge.”

“The Twinge” is a feeling of sadness I get right after I’ve said something funny. The sadness stems from a fear that I will never be able to think of anything funny to say again, ever. You will notice this when we meet and hang out in the real world. Right after I make you laugh, a brief flash of sadness will cross my face and we will move on with the conversation.

This is a very real disease and I’m afraid that for the first time, I have “The Blogging Twinge.”

In the past, there has been no pressure to be funny. Sometimes, I’m downright morose but now with this BOB thing, I’m feelin’ it. I may never write anything funny again and I’m sorry Grandma or Uncle Billy or whoever nominated me. I don’t wanna let the family down. I just can’t perform under pressure.

My next post will be very, very depressing. (pst. I know this is true because I actually live in my life and I have the inside scoop. I am currently sitting in a very hip Urgent Care facility with a free wireless connection — details to follow. Don’t worry, it’s not the kids. Just me this time. Nothing’s actually wrong but the doc just mentioned something about a “special shoe.” If that’s not depressing, I don’t know what is.)

In the morning Ducky went AWOL.
Many tears were shed.
Many shrieks were heard.
Much searching occurred.
Hours later, the table was cleared for lunch:

Much rejoicing.

For the LOVE! Ducky, you’re usually a pretty good kid. You are almost as valuable to this family’s happiness as my biological children so I try to treat you well. The massages, the bubble baths, the trips to Madrid…..

Would you please knock it off with the in-under-concealed-beneath routine? You’re driving me mental!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Laylee has picked up the phrase, “for the love.”

Example: I was unbuckling her from her car seat when she asked very sweetly, “Oh, for the love Mommy, can you please carry me up?”

Ooooo, in other news, we may put a real offer on a van tomorrow. It may not be the pimped out one I will be dreaming of tonight but it will be sweet and have plenty of room to haul Ducky and his entourage anywhere they want to hide. Lookout Grand-people! Here we come.

“Seattle? It rains 9 months of the year in Seattle”

Okay, now give me your ideas before I hunt you down and make you play “cards” with me 50 times in one afternoon. I’m serious. I’ll do it. I’m a mutha on the brink!

(Okay, not really, but I’d like some more ideas…..please.)

So I just went to pick Laylee up from our co-op preschool. When I got there, she was nowhere to be found. The mother in charge, we’ll call her Too Lucy (all my friends have the same names), she told me that Laylee was upstairs with her son, we’ll call him Big Moses (all her male friends have biblical names but none of them are Moses so I think I’ll call them all Moses from now on).

Supposedly they were playing a game where they were pretending to be each other. Big Moses was tucking her in his bed and she was calling him Laylee.

I walked up there and found her in her birthday suit (desperately trying to avoid using “questionable keywords” here) with Big Moses helping her to put on his underwear. I guess they wanted to be each other from the inside out.

I let her keep them on and we headed home. She is very proud to be wearing “Big Moses Pants.” For some reason, I cannot stop laughing when she mentions this, which is probably why she cannot stop mentioning it.

I love using fake names on this blog. It makes everything seem so dramatic somehow, like we’re all in the witness protection program.

It reminds me of the time I made a short documentary about some guys running a pirate radio station out of their bedroom at BYU, not exactly a hotbed of illegal activity. I think their broadcast radius was around 10 feet but they were really proud to be bringing “indie music to the people.”

They wouldn’t use their real names and conducted their entire interviews wearing Strong Bad-style Mexican wrestling masks.

Ahhh……Some of my finest film work.

Hopefully then I’ll be able to shed a few layers.

I’m still taking some “help” for my post partum anxiety with Magoo. I can miss a dose and sometimes I’m fine. Sometimes the anxiety and panic attacks come back.

My doctor explained that the pills are like layers of clothing and my life situation is like the weather. When it’s cold outside, I need more layers but if it’s a nice day, I can shed a parka, sweater, fleece, halter top or whatever.

So, in an attempt to get myself to a place where I can start aggressively weaning from the stuff, I’ve decided to work on changing the weather.

1. My hormones and chemicals — um guess I’ll move on to number two. I think this area will remain frigid for a while to come. My body has to decide on this one and according to Dr McGenius, it may be a year or more.

2. Sleep — I will do more of it. This will be accomplished by going to bed earlier and telling Magoo to stop having a cold and waking up in the night repeatedly.

3. Christmas stuff — I will not be making Christmas cards by hand this year. Sadly, the cheap lightweight cards I got for a wickedly low price at Joanne Fabrics will probably be cuter than the ones I made last year.

I am pretty much done my Christmas shopping. I will not re-buy, even if I decide I don’t like the gifts I purchased the day after Thanksgiving. Sorry family and friends. You’re stuck with what I already got.

4. NANOWRIMO — She is no more. I will post later about all the wonderful fabulous things I learned from the experience but for now I will be writing more like 250 words per day, rather than 5000.

5. I will breathe and mediate and take one day at a time and stop blaming myself for all the crazy things that go wrong in my life and the insane things my kids do.

I will allow myself to “quit” things. I will allow myself to “fail” and I will move on. I will “be who I am because somebody has to and [I’m] the closest.” (from Jack Kent’s children’s book “Just Only John”)

Random side note. I am currently the number one hit for the msn search – mom abandon kids – and – my mother is selfish. Nice!

And I’ve Brought Some Corn for Poppage
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

I am working on having the words to that song officially changed, bring it a little more up to date, yo.

It’s not snowing here and not likely to be – ever – but that doesn’t mean we’re not putting a “snowman day” on the ole’ advent calendar. We plan to drive up I-90 one Saturday this month until we find snow. We will then stop and build an environmentally friendly snowman and drive home for cocoa. I am pretty stoked about this lee-tle plan.

Also on the calendar will be an outing to a local mall where we can “Experience the enchantment of Snowflake Lane where each night 60 live toy soldiers, music and a light show will brighten the night and warm your heart.”

I don’t know how “toy” soldiers can be “live” but I want my heart to be warmed and hey, it’s free.

Today I saw the first installation of the Christmas Palace. It looks different this year with the new paint. It looks like we painted the walls all spicy and warm especially for the season. And I think we will keep this tradition up, painting the walls a different color each season……or each mood I’m in….not sure which yet.

The painting was completed just in time too. For the first time ever, Laylee colored all over the walls with black crayon. Dan made her wash it off and she could and she did and the peasants rejoiced.

Here is the nativity, complete with shepherds and completely suckable. Let’s see how many times we can lose baby Jesus and have a meltdown this year.

This is the place where it looks like Christmas yorched on my bookshelves. I like it in a busy sort of way.

This is the wall outside of Laylee’s room where I placed the big funky colored lights I love but don’t want to put anywhere in the house that might be visible to people other than the children. Tomorrow morning when she wakes up and sees this, she will lose her mind. Yes, she will no longer have any mind.

These are my favorite.

Look closer.

“Well, aren’t those mittens the cutest ever? Where did you get those?” you ask, “You could not possibly have made such an exquisite piece of handywork!”

“Why, yes I did.”

“Shut up!”

“No. I will not.”

Now for this doorway, we really need some sweet minizletoe. Anyone know where I can git me some?

Any excuse for some holiday action is a good excuse. That’s what my pappy always used to say.

-House painted the color of Kraft Carmels and pumpkin pie. Yum.

-Decision made to try NANOWRIMO again when my kids are old enough for me to do it AND maintain my sanity. Sigh of relief.

-Laylee taken to the ER of Children’s Hospital on doctor’s orders. No good.

-Cleaned buckets of vomit out of car. Why did we opt not to take the ambulance again? No comment.

-Release from the hospital with semi-clean bill of health. Grateful.

-Thanksgiving with good friends, none of whom have children. Good times, great food, fun conversation.

-Time for our departure signaled by Laylee spilling beverage on host’s wireless keyboard. Sticky.

-2-year-old vomits buckets on white carpet of host, one inch from hardwood front entry on our way out the door. Cleaning bill to come.

-Falling down at midnight while getting ready for big shopping day, deciding to shop rather than see a doctor about my foot. Not smart, but very typical.

-Getting up at 4:00am to shop till I dropped. Invigorating.

-The deals, the glorious deals. Yippee!

-Bed and looking forward to a day of vomit-free relaxation tomorrow. Ahhhhh!

Sorry for this pathetic list. I promise I’ll be back soon with new info and some fun stories. ER, yadda, vomit, yadda holiday blah blah, nearly-broken-foot-that-still-hurts-to-put-weight-on blah blah …. Excuses, excuses.

We have so much to be grateful for. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Strangely enough, I did.

We all know it’s important to take time that’s just for us, to recharge, to remember who we are, to have a teensy break from our 24/7 work schedules.

Some ideas:
1. I go to desert and late night movies in the middle of the week with my girlfriends. We go after the kids are in bed so we can be crazy, eat fattening food, watch movies our husbands wouldn’t be caught dead seeing and relive those carefree high school days of girl bonding.

2. I take long hot baths. I fill the tub as hot as I can stand it, bring in a good book or a magazine, light some candles and soak until my husband feels the need to come in and check my pulse.

3. Early morning walks with a friend are wonderful once we’re up and out. We breathe in the fresh air, talk about the joys and frustrations of our lives, meet interesting people and start the day with a bang.

4. Teaching piano — I teach one student once a week while her sweet mother plays with my kids. (They pay me a fairly low amount, so it’s not about the money, and should probably pay me nothing considering the free babysitting I’m getting out of it.) I love to teach and I consider this “me time.”

5. Book Club – reading the book, discussing online, meeting with friends once a month. Love it, love it love it.

What activities are important to you when you have a few minutes or a few hours all to yourself?

Why do you take this time?

How do you make it work with your family’s busy schedules?

I saw this picture on a website advertising home loans recently.

1. Why didn’t anyone tell us a clandestine cameraman was taking our picture when we signed our first Mortgage?

2. Why did they change our hair colors in post-production and Photoshop all that extra arm hair on Dan? I mean, come on, he’s manly enough as it is. Let’s not get gratuitous here.

3. Why was no one there to photo document our recent refinance? I was laughing so hard at that signing that I couldn’t reach for Dan’s fur-covered arm in time. I fell flat on my face on the mahogany desk of our closing agent, smashing it into a million pieces and scattering papers everywhere, in a fit of hysterical I-can’t-believe-we’re-getting-such-a-great-deal-on-this-fabulous-mortgage-product laughter.

Now THAT would have been a great picture to show the joy of the home loan process, me lying in a pile of papers and rubble, snorting like a pig, while giddy Dan picked wood-chips out of my hair with abandon.