You call this a snow day?!?!?!

You can't be serious! Ok, I love Oregon. I love Salem. We will probably live here forever!. BUT COME ON! What is wrong with the snow mentality here? I hope I don't offend any natives, but it's kind of ridiculous. Just last week in Utah, there was a ton of snow, and everyone went to school and work. When I was a kid, we never had a day of school canceled for snow. And that includes the winter of '93 when it literally snowed 4 feet in 2 days. I'm really not exaggerating. This is crazy. When it snows and is a little icy, just drive slow and tap your brakes, and you'll be fine.

How many tacos can fit in YOUR purse?

So, I got this little fake Gucci number while I was in China. Illegal, I know. But, this bad boy can fit 8 crunchy tacos and 2 soft tacos from taco bell! Without breaking the crunchy ones! Miraculous, I know. My dad was in town this weekend, and we went to see a movie (The Water Horse. Great show). We were all hungry, and there was a taco bell right next to the theatre. So, I put the illegal contraband into my illegal purse, and we enjoyed tacos for lunch. Sorry to the people who had to smell them and listen to us eat.

On another note, we had a great short weekend with my dad. Can I just say that having him fly directly to Salem was awesome? The reason for his visit (missed you mother!) was to ordain Neal to be a high priest. Neal was called to be in the high council, which is crazy because he had only been Elders Quorum president for 10 weeks. We had a great time and I hope you liked you tacos dad!

Poor Kate and Lucky Sarah

Kate was sick for about 2 weeks, and we dealt with that. Finally she was put on antibiotics, and that was that. Or so we thought. . . . Last night at 12:30, Kate pukes EVERYWHERE in her room. It was the kind that takes all the lights, cleaners and buckets (including rubber gloves) to clean up. Turns out, she's sick AGAIN. YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! So, she was up all night puking every 45 minutes. I'm serious. Poor Kate. Poor Neal. He insisted on letting me go back to bed, and he got out the air matress for Kate, a ton of towels and parked on the couch all night to be the official barf catcher. AND, he was in to work by 7. Is he the best Dad or what? And the best husband.

On a less sickly note, Sarah is very excited! She sent a story in to a church magazine, The Friend, about a year and a half ago, and it was published in February's issue! She's so excited! Funny thing is, my aunt who lives in Colorado was thumbing through the Friend and saw a picture of a little girl who looked just like her niece, Natalie. She looked closer and saw that it was Sarah P. from Oregon. Pretty funny. Her story is on page 18 of the February issue if anyone is interested. Fun times at the Peton house!

Gender Identification

Kate just made me laugh really really hard. Now, imagine Kate speaking the following as if she had just had a revelation: "MOM! I know how the doctor knows if the baby will be a boy or a girl! They have a computer screen and they push some letters and numbers on the computer, then on the screen it shows the baby's head. If the baby has long hair, it's a girl. And, if is has short pokey hair, it's a boy!" When I laughed, she said, "is that right?" Then, I made her think really hard of the differences between boys and girls. She kept saying girls have long hair and boys have short hair. When I told her that the doctor looks at the baby's pepe, she was the one who started laughing.

Laundry mishaps

What is wrong with me? Last week a whole load of laundry was colored a terrible grey color, no thanks to Sarah. She spilled something on a new pair of dark dark jeans, and I told her to put them ON the washer so I could treat them later. Well, she thought I meant IN the washer, and there was a load of light clothes going at the time. So, she made herself have some grey undies, and Kate's special blanket turned grey too (it goes well with the holes in the ratty old blankie).

Add to the woes a child who throws up ALL THE FREAKING TIME!!!! I'm am so sick of it! She throws up when she has a cold, when she gets dizzy, when she rides in the car too long, when she smells my breath, when she has allergies, and when she's plugged up with ear infections. Well, the last two weeks, she's had a cold, I've had bad breath, she had some gnarly ear infections, and we drove out to Dallas Saturday night for a baptism (barf in the car in the middle of no-where! Thank goodness for the member janitorial closets at the church). So, I've been doing laundry like crazy for 2 weeks. I usually do it all on Monday, but it's been stretching out way too long, and I'm sick of it!

Well, I was doing my last load today (Tuesday. That's how much laundry I've had). It was a small load of whites with a couple of Neal's white shirts. Well, I should call them pink shirts now. Sorry Neal. Just Saturday we had the "pink shirts are for gay men" conversation. I hope not to offend, but come one! Pink shirts on men? We were watching the international rodeo competition on Saturday (a boring day with a sick kid), and most of the cowboys were hot (as usual). But one guy was wearing a pink shirt! A pink shirt at a rodeo! That just asks for a punch in the nose. Anyway, I hope Neal likes his pink shirt. He has some nice socks to go along with it too!

Drowning

As my mother can attest, I am a terrible swimmer. I suck for two reasons: First, I sink like a rock. You would think that with watermelon sized boobs and a growing butt I would float like a life-raft. Wrong. The second reason is probably because I almost drowned at Bear Lake when I was about 5. Thanks to my mother and her life saving hand with the silver spoon ring (I remember seeing your hand descending to the deep to save me. Hey, I noticed you wore that ring when you were on the news the other day! It looked good! Your sexy suit looked good too!). Anyway, back to swimming. . . .

So, my gym has a pool, and I've been feeling like I'm in a bit of an exercise rut lately (OK, maybe a "I've only gone once-a-week for the past 3 weeks" rut. There's your problem!). Last night I thought, "Hey, I'm going to go swimming tomorrow for my workout. I should be safe from drowning since the pool only goes to 4'6" and I'm 5'6". That's good clearance." So, after I dropped Kate off at pre-school, I grabbed my suit, goggles and Sarah's swim cap (sexy, I know), and headed to the gym. Little did I know that the pool at the 9:00 hour resembles a geriatric pool-party. "That's ok. I can dodge the old folks" I thought. Well, I'm such a crappy swimmer, I think I had a few of them worried. I swam a length, and rested, gasping for air. Dang! I was pooped already! But, I had committed myself to 30 minutes. Peton's don't quit! So, I did another lap, and a few more. Once I started gulping water and gasping for air, I decided I'd better stop and get a kick-board. I seriously think some of the old people thought I was a little retarded (I certainly looked it with my swim-cap and goggles sucked to my eye sockets). I think one lady was looking out for me in case she had to do a little life-saving. Where were you mom? You need to teach me some of your moves.

Anyway, after it was all said and done, I had a pretty good work-out. I came home exhausted and starving (and maybe a little humiliated). But, I think I'll go again tomorrow. Only I'll go at 6 am. That way, no one will see me make an aquatic fool of myself. But, no one will be there to save me if I drown. I won't get any better if I don't keep getting wet. Do you think I could sneak in with my kids swim lessons at Olinger? I'll pay extra close attention.