The Zone

When I was a young lass, I would have gagged if I had to go to New Beginnings in a formal. But, I was never like other girls. So, I have to remember that most of my young women are excited to get all dressed up for a night of goals and achievement. Me? Not so much. I was always the girl who borrowed a prom dress at the last minute, because I didn't trifle with such nonsensical details. It made my wedding quite lovely, because I had no expectations to be shattered in a whirlwind of stress and disappointment. I say that because I remember some of the tears/tantrums/drama of some of my sisters. Heck, I got the oil changed in my car the morning of my wedding, and Neal put in a half day of work. It was very relaxed and laid back.

Anyway, New Beginnings went well last night. Doesn't Sarah look awesome? When Kate saw what Sarah was wearing (borrowed dress, of course. Hello! Who's her mama?), she was in awe. "Wow Sarah! You look like Cinderella or something!"

Sarah: "Kate, that's dumb. Cinderella is for babies. I should be offended"

That's their new word - offended. Kate says it all the time when recounting first grade playground drama. "Mom! She was SO offended!"

Check out that laugh on Sarah's face. She had just grabbed a whole hand full of my butt. It's always important not to be TOO churchy when at church. Don't want to get boring. I'm glad that Sarah is learning well.

As with most households, the kids have work they need to do. Sarah is a champ. She's realized that if she just gets the work done, the following things happen:

1. Mom is happy
2. No extra punishment of jobs
3. She gets to go back to reading, or whatever else she was enjoying before I told her to get to work.

I tell her to do a job, and she immediately grabs her mp3 player, and gets in the zone. The fast, do it quick zone. That girl can zone like no other. It's the ADD. She has many zones. But this work zone she has discovered is awesome! The other night, Neal asked her to clean up the Abigail tornado of DVD's in the front room. So, she plugs her ears with music, and gets started. Neal and I were lazily sitting on the couch while she cleaned up and Kate did dishes. Slavery is alive and well in this household!

Anyway, I started to notice that Sarah moved on to other jobs. She began to clean the entire room. I had slipped off my shoes. She put those away. Then, we began to test her. Neal took off his shoes while she was putting mine away. When she got back, she just picked up his shoes, and put those away too. While she was gone, I got some more DVD's out. It was funny at this point. She put them away. We kept putting things out while she was in another part of the house putting things away. It was a fun game! She never noticed.

THEN, she moved on to her bedroom and picked it all up. All that work, just from asking her to pick up the DVD's. It's like a dream come true for the couch-sitting mom! I like that Sarah zone. It's working great for me.

Another something is working great for me, and that something is called the "Bookclub overnighter" at the beach tomorrow night. I relish this break. When I return to the neglected husband and children, I feel so much more energy to keep on taking care of the boogers. It's like a shot in the arm. A good shot. Like a narcotic. I'm gonna eat lots of junk.

And who says taxes can't be fun? This was my honest word verification from Turbo Tax. Thanks Turbo Tax. Not only did you give me a refund that was above and beyond expectations, but you also made me laugh in the process. Made my day.

Mormon Gold

This is going to be a long 40 days.

I have a headache. And I just ran out of ibuprofen.

I forgot to pick up my friend's boy from kindergarten. We trade kids occasionally, and it was my turn to give her a break.

My favorite glass broke. I have a coke glass that I always have my water in. Since I'm not drinking the DC, I need more water. Abigail decided to move my glass from the table, to the edge of my chair. My mother hips knocked it off the chair.

I miscalculated my bills today, and thought I had more money than I do.

I'm blaming the diet coke.

So, who knew the fresh-faced female half-pipe gold medalist from Australia is a squeaky clean Mormon? Pretty cool, if you ask me. I was watching the qualifiers yesterday afternoon and saw her and thought, "she looks like a Mormon girl." It wasn't till this morning that I read that she IS a Mormon girl. Makes me proud!

Lent

I'm not Catholic. I'm totally Mormon. But there's something the Catholics do that has always intrigued me. It's called Lent. Every year I think, "Hmm. Maybe I should give something up for 40 days." Then I'm like, "Nah. Too lazy."

But I'm actually doing it this year. And I'm a little worried about what I decided to give up. When I mentioned my desire to observe Lent to Neal, he said what most of you are thinking. "Well, I know what you should give up. It starts with diet and ends in coke." Kind of like that part in "A Christmas Story" when Ralphie's mom calls Flick's mom and tells her where Ralphie learned the "fudge" word. It was the tone in which Mrs. Schwartz says, "Probably his father!" that Neal used. Like stating the obvious.

Ralphie's mom: "Mrs. Schwartz, do you know what Ralph just said?"

Mrs Schwartz: "(incoherent over the phone.)"

Ralphie's mom: "No, not that. He said... (She whispers into the phone)"

Mrs Schwartz: "No, not that!"

Ralphie's Mom: "Yes, that. Do you know where he heard it?"

Mrs Schwartz: "Probably from his father."

Yes -- THAT. I just drank my last one, and I'm not going to have another till Passover begins on March 29th. Well see how this goes, seeing how March is a crazy month. I'm going to Bend with Neal for a couple of days respite. I'll also be spending a couple of days in Seattle with the middle school band and orchestra. That is worthy of risk of overdose, if you ask me. And, I have a trip to Utah for a brother's wedding. Holy crap. How will I survive?

I think I'll have some tales to tell throughout this ordeal.

Let the fast begin!

Oh, and my running shoes were delivered. Oh yeah. I used them this morning for the first time. I love the first run in a new pair of shoes. So far, so good. These one's are Saucony. I've found that the older I get, and with the foot and shin ailments I have, it's tough to find a good shoe. I need super stability and super cushioning. Let's see how these deliver.

One more thing. Yesterday as Kate sat at the kitchen table doing her homework, she was singing to herself. The tune was "I've been workin' on the railroad!" Only she was singing, "Wise men workin' on the freeway!" Crazy.

Nevermind on Those Lights

You know how I said my crossing lights are fixed? Yeah, well, that's a buncha crap. I waited forever this morning at the lights while on my jog. And I'm not a dork who runs in place at the lights, so I got cold whilst waiting. I am, however, the kind of dork who wears a blazing yellow/reflective jacket and hat with a red LED blinky light on the front of the jacket, and a blinky light on the back of my hat. I look like a day-glow jogging Christmas tree. But, apart from the lights, there's another issue in my neighborhood -- lack of adequate street lighting. And, since I'm not keen on being on the pedestrian end of an MVA, I'm not taking any chances.

Yesterday as I readied for church, I closed my bedroom door as I put on my panty hose (that word has always made me giggle). I don't close my door often. In fact, I usually even leave the bathroom door open. Sorry, but true. But I DO close the door when I put on panty hose. There is just something about it that is so incredibly unflattering. I think I would rather be caught naked, than standing in just a pair of above-the-belly hose.

Taco Meat Revisited

Remember back to elementary school, and some kid barfed in the lunch line, or on their desk or something? Well, my Kate was "some kid" today.

I was in denial about her stomach ache this morning. Why? Because I didn't want a sick kid at home. I had plans for the Abby to go to my friends house for a few hours so that I could have a little breaky. My plans were to buy some running shoes, and get Neal a little somethin' somethin' for Valentines Day. So Kate's stomach ache was the last thing on my mind. Besides, who wouldn't have a stomach ache after eating a cold taco meat and mayo sandwich for breakfast? She also has some minor barfs on about 50% of her mornings. Nothing new.

I dropped her off at 9am. By 9:50, the school was calling. Kate "got sick" at school. When I picked her up and walked her to the car, I asked if she made it to the garbage can. She said, "No. I thought that if I ran to the can, the teacher would get mad at me. I just barfed all over my desk and the floor. Anna was sitting next to me and had to jump away so she wouldn't get splashed." I stifled a laugh and kept my sympathetic look on my face.

On the way home, Kate unleashed her sickness all over the back seat of the car. Seriously, that car has been puked in at least 50 times. Just Saturday, Abby vomited milky vomit all over the place. It was a "take the carseat apart and clean with q-tips" kind of damage.

So, I have a kid home sick again. I got dressed up anyway, just to make it feel like I had somewhere's special to go. Lucky for online shoe ordering. At least I'll see Mr. UPS in 3-6 business days.

FYI - taco meat sandwich barf looks just like that rubber puke sold at the joke store.

Crossing Signal

All day yesterday, there was a work crew out at my stop light. I wondered if they were finally going to make the lights work right. If you're walking, and want to cross, there's no point in pushing the button, because it doesn't do anything. You could stand there for hours sometimes, waiting for the light to change. Or when driving, it's the same old story. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to why the lights change. It's aggravating.

Well, imagine my surprise this morning when I went on a jog. I pushed the button to cross. It changed the light! And on my way back, same thing!! It works! They fixed it! Thanks work crew! You just helped me clean my mouth by 50%! At least! How's that for an honest days work?

Where is my little girl? She's been replaced by an uber cranky, crying girl. It's been more than a week of the grouchies. It's too early for PMS, so I can't play that card. Teeth? Cold? Sick of the dark winter? Probably all of the above. Good thing she's so cute. But kind of a brat too. It's a girl thing, I'm sure of it.

So, my little sister, Lindsey, is going to birth another baby anytime now. Wouldn't it be nice if it were today? Today is Laurel's birthday. She's 30. That's weird. Happy Birthday Laurel!

Kick the Box

Dave Matthews keeps coming up on my Pandora. Not only do I like his music, but I used to have a major crush on the guy. He was just gettin' popular when my Neal was on his mission. When I would see Mr. Matthews on the television, I would think of Neal, because they look alike. Especially when Neal was less baldy. He sure has a great band. Dave, that is. Neal isn't in any band.

The other day, as I pulled into the car port (remember, I have a ghetto-fied car port), there was a UPS package at the door. Dang, I missed my UPS guy, but I was glad to have my books I ordered. As usual, my hands were full of child and other stuff (probably cleaning out the empty diet coke cans), and I had loaded up Kate the Sherpa as well. I decided I was going to pull out the soccer skills and kick the box into the house. I told Kate to "Watch this!"

She held open the door for me, and I got my foot just right, and kicked the box straight into the house and it almost landed on the kitchen counter. I asked Kate, "Was that cool, or what?"

Kate: Yeah Mom. That was cool. I knew you were going to do something cool, because you always do cool stuff.

Mom: I do? Like what?

Kate: Like you always kick and throw things and are tricky. You know, like when you scare us and throw knives in the air and catch them.

I don't always catch them. There are a few marks in my kitchen floor that prove that point. And many, many, many marks on my mother's kitchen floor where I practiced my cool tricks. Sorry Mom. Good thing you don't live in that house anymore.

I remember when my Mom was making pies and had some extra dough scraps. I rolled it into a ball, and threw it over and over again at the ceiling, where it would stick for a while, then fall down. Those were some nasty grease marks on the ceiling.

Please Shine Down on Me

Out came the sun and dried up all the rain. Thank you, Mr. Sun. And it's Friday, to boot! Even better. I so needed the sun to dry up all my rain.

I'm just going to list some of the events of the past week-ish. I've spent $80 in co-pays at the pediatricians office just since Monday. Sick children, and Sarah's 12 year fun check-up. All that stuff. I don't think I've had a child sick-streak much like this one.

All of the doctor's visits started the Sunday before the new year. Abby popped her elbow out at church. One trip to the ER, and a $421.51 bill later, her elbow was popped back in, and the doctor showed us the super-easy trick to do it ourselves and save an ER trip. Noted. But now, it's a new year, and a new deductible -- just after we met the Abby's for the year. It happens every year.

A couple of Sunday's later, I was in the doctor's office with Kate. Lucky for us, the pediatricians office has some Saturday and Sunday hours. Save the $100 copay. Kate had a gnarly bladder infection. Round of anti's. Poor little dear.

Sarah got sick. She's a tank, and I don't remember the last time she missed school being sick. But she missed last Thursday and Friday.

Kate got sick again. Missed Friday. Monday she had a follow-up to culture her urine. The next day, the school calls and tells me she has an ear ache. I was at the doctor's office with Sarah and Abs, so my friend had to pick her up from school. She moaned and groaned for 2 nights about her ear ache. Poor girl.

Abby had her 18 month check. On the autism screening form, it had a yes and no question that said, "Does your child climb things?" When I circled "yes," I was so tempted to write a "hell" before the yes. That girl can move.

Abby wakes up Tuesday night with a fever, and I begin the barf vigil. I cleaned alotta barf the last couple of days, and washed alotta towels. Poor baby.

Anyway, I should stop now, because I feel like the crazy old aunt who chronicles her health maladies whenever there's a captive ear. I don't enjoy that, so I'll stop. But first, I must mention that I was sick too. And totally PMS-ing, which basically created hell on earth for the husband. So sorry Mr. Neal.

Speaking of PMS-ing, I have a funny. A couple of years ago, Sarah brought home an earth science project they had been working on in school. On the cover, written beautifully, with the first letter's "bubble-written," were the words "PMS - P.ollution, M.oney, S.almon." It was so laughably funny when I pointed it out to Sarah and taught her what PMS meant. Now it's our special code. She has said to me many times this week, "Pollution Money Salmon, Mom! Geez, calm down!" It always calms me a little and makes me chuckle. A little. Then I continue growling.

This morning, I was busy in the kitchen. I had a brunch to go to, and was making a quiche and blueberry thing. My husband loves a big, classic breakfast. Poor man doesn't get it often, because his wife does not enjoy messing up the kitchen first thing in the morning. To my credit, though, I usually fry him 2 eggs and toast every morning. I'm cool like dat. But, I owe him for my grouchiness and his saintliness, and I can't make deliciousness for friends and not share with my family. Sarah says that's what hypocrisy is. She's right. So, with some of the bacon and swiss, I made Neal a delicious omelet. I was flipping it, and I flipped half of it right onto the hot burner. Crap! I actually said the sunuva! word. My saint husband said, in his Julia Child voice, "You must have confidence!" It was a big omelet, so half was enough for the hungry man. I think he was just happy I didn't freak out like he has watched me do a couple times this past week. Naturally, you can imagine what my kitchen smelled like. On top of the bacon, it smelled like burned eggs. That's a nasty smell.

But, because of Mr. Sun, my windows are open, and a fresh breeze is cleaning the smell out.

Chaos Continued

I've been out of it for a bit. Funny, that last post about not being late for chuch if Neal isn't in the equation. . . . I was totally late yesterday, and it was just me and the Sarah. Neal had nothing to do with it. I like the taste of foot.

Last week was crazy. Just crazy. I'm glad it's over. Imagine a week where every time you go to the store, you get in the wrong line. Not just the slow checker, but the slow, chatty checker, with the lady with a pile of WIC checks, and the coupons are ringing up wrong, and the debit card machine isn't working, and there are price-checks going on all over the place. I spent lots of time this week in the wrong check out line. That is the analogy I choose to use.

Naturally, I became very grouchy. Which made me feel down. I don't like being down and generally try to avoid it at all costs. My kids all got sick too, and have been home from school a little too much for my liking. Lucky for that trip to the temple on Saturday -- perspective returned, and so did my smile.

We took Sarah to the temple for her first time to do baptisms. Every parent needs to do this when their child turns 12. It should be required credit or something. All the powers of opposition were conspiring against us as we planned to go to the temple. As we got off the freeway at the temple, the check-engine light blinged on in the car, and it suddenly shifted into it's default 1st gear. Great. But dang -it, I am NOT going to let this ruin my temple day. It was great. Perfection, for reals.

I'm reset and back to "normal." Good thing. The car is now in the shop again. I swear, we have had so much trouble with that thing lately. . . .

We also have two new toilets at our house. That's a good thing. Bad thing was the stressful 2 evenings when 10,000 things were going on and the toilets were changed out. Ugh. Gross. But. . . . we can now break off our love affair with the toilet plunger. We were so beyond a first-name basis with that thing. It's no fun having a toilet that can't handle the turd of a child. We finally have some toilets with some balls!