Party With the Band

Guess what this is? No, it is not a ginormous prophylactic. It's a genuine, bonafide, authentic, why-on-earth-have-we-not-used-them-before, barfbag!!! I got them from my new best friends from the lab at my Dr's office. No more zip-locks for car barfage. We are flying to Utah on Wednesday, and we're planning for the usual -- vomit. From Kate, of course. The nice lady (nice until she had to draw my blood 5 times and missed a few times and made me hurt) at the lab gave me a couple and told me where to buy more. I can't wait to buy more!

Here are the middle-school advanced band students I spent a couple of days with. It was fun, yet exhausting!! By the end, I decided some of the kids were super duper annoying and I wanted to smack their mouths when I heard their voices. But by the end, I was really tired and getting kind of grouchy.

A bad thing about it was my super-sonic bloodhound nose that decided to kick in on this trip. I could smell all the bad breath, unwashed bodies and hair, and sour clothes. Sometimes I can smell everybody and it drives me crazy. Seriously felt like gagging a few times. At the end of the day, the band teacher and I implored all of the students to take showers before morning. PLEASE!!!!

To my sister Angie. This is for you. Twiki -- aka Twinkie. I always thought he was Twinkie my whole entire life, till I saw this exhibit at the Science Fiction Museum in Seattle.

Sarah doing the Daniel-San. She didn't even know who he was, or what the heck "the Crane" is. Poor girl.

Mother and daughter atop the Space Needle. We couldn't have asked for better weather. Sunny and clear.

Seattle is beautiful when it's clear and dry.

The campus at the University of Washington. Does it get any better than cherry blossoms, sun, water, and a mountain? No. It doesn't. Can you tell I'm so excited that spring is here? Spring in the Northwest makes the crappy winter totally worth it.

The library at the University of Washington/Hogwarts. It reminded me of Hogwarts, anyway. I would have loved to study in a hall like that while in college. Makes the old Harold B. Lee Library at BYU seem kind of gay.

My flute playa. After seeing some of the other students hauling their instruments around campus, I'm sure glad Sarah chose the flute. It's easy to carry.

Why is it that charter buses only have "fiesta" upholstery? The charter buses our high school band took to California had the same upholstery. But not the same smell. Lucky for us, the bus driver strongly encouraged us not to use the bathroom, otherwise the smells would fester with us for the entire trip. Wish someone would have told that to the jazz band poopers on our way to California my senior year. The sewage smell really ripened up through the deserts of Nevada. No one wanted to sit on the back of that bus. Besides Pepper and Zach. It was easier to make out back there without many onlookers. Besides, who wants to take a dump in a moving bus?

Speaking of dumps. . . . a lovely bathroom from around the turn of the century on the Seattle Underground tour.

Some of the band ladies. Sarah and Julie are two of my young women. It was nice to have Julie on the trip. She understands most of my old movie/music/SNL references due to superior parenting. Except she didn't get my "keg of beer" joke reference from the wonderful movie, "Teenwolf." Staring Michael J. Fox, of course.

It was so nice to spend some time with Sarah. She's a good girl. At times she did want me to give her some space. So I did.

Conversion

So, I'm at Costco today, sharing my hot dog with Abby, and I notice this big, fat guy in the food line. He had a t-shirt on that said, "Want to see MY stimulus package?" Totally gross. I do not want to see it. I want to kick it.

I suck at St. Patrick's Day. I always forget and send my kids to school to get pinched. Some parents make green breakfast, or get their girls shamrock earrings and such. Nope. Not me. I slept in this morning, had the kids fix their own dang cereal, then dashed off to take Kate to school then go to my lovely annual exam. Don't you just love those annuals? I don't.

We've all been a bit run down with colds this past week. Poor Abigail with her cold and her terrible teething. That girl gets miserable as her teeth come in four at a time. And, she turns into Miss Cranky Pants. Which turns ME into Mrs. Cranky Pants. Better yet, Queen Cranky Pants. I'm teaching my daughters well. I've been terrible lately. My poor family.

Today marks what would have been my Grandma Ginger's 88th birthday. Happy Birthday, Grandma. I hope they have rootbeer in heaven. She loved rootbeer. When Neal and I lived next door to my grandparents, we would often buy my grandma 12 packs of rootbeer. She loved that. I miss her and I've been thinking about her more and more. I made some homemade bread last week that turned out perfectly. I thought to myself, "Grandma would think I'm awesome!" She's right. I am awesome.

Sarah and I went bra shopping on Saturday. I came away in a religious state as I stood in wonder and awe at the miracle the lady at Nordstrom performed. Seriously. If you have large-marge boobs, like Sarah and I, go to Nordstrom and let them perform their magic. I seriously feel like sharing my experience in next testimony meeting. Not really, but wouldn't that be funny? I've always been a Vicky's fan with bras, but my friend who works at Nordstrom was telling me about their expertise. Yeah, I'm totally converted. I feel like a new woman. I'll never get another Vicky bra. Just the Chantelle at Nordstrom. I'm lifted and pulled in and lighter on my feet. I'm pretty religious with my annual exams - I think I'm going to add an annual bra fitting to coincide with my pappy. Don't want to leave the girls out of the fun now, do we?

So, now that I've talked about the grody Costco man, my annual exam, and my new bras, does anyone want to throw up now? Sorry.

I'm going to Seattle tomorrow with Sarah and the middle school advanced band, choir and orchestra. Wish me luck.

Over the Head Phones

Neal and I left for Bend, Oregon on Sunday after church, and didn't return till last night. It was so nice. Nice for me, anyway. Neal had two days of depositions, so I got to relax with "The Count" and pretend I don't have children.

"The Count" is not a boyfriend. The Count of Monte Cristo is an amazing book. I'm a slow reader, so it's taking me a while. Highly recommended. The unabridged edition translated by Buss, by the way.

Bend was just what the doctor ordered. I could move there in a second. It's beautiful, and more sunny than here in the valley. I could stand to have a little, er, a lot, more sun in my life. Sons, too, for that matter. Not a lot of those. Just a little. But not wienie little. Nevermind. . .

While in Bend, Neal took a little break from work to enjoy the wildlife. Our room was along the Dechutes river, and had a sliding door that opened up to the outside world. When I got out of the shower, Neal had opened the door and made a trail of bread crumbs going into the room. Some ducks were on their way in until I scared them away with my shouts. Perhaps it was my nakedness that scared them away. We'll never know. Neal was disappointed. He wanted to take pictures of the hotel with ducks in the room. He thought the kids would get a kick out of that.

Sarah has broken head phones for her chore machine (mp3 player). I told her she could borrow mine. She's not happy about that. They're from my sony armband am/fm radio. They're old-school and go over the head. The ear things stick in your ears. Once upon a time, I paid good money for that thing, and thought those head phones were the bomb! Sarah won't take it out of the house. She refuses to until she gets new ear buds. Kate didn't even know how they worked. She had them down around her jaw like a chin-strap. "Is this right, Mom?" Chuckle.

Tell Me All About It!

If you're thinking about having "the talk" with any of your children any time soon, read this blog first. I'm still laughing. It's my sister, Angie, telling about their experience sharing the "secret of life" with their youngest. Hilarious! It doesn't hurt that I love her boys like they're my own. I was recounting the story at the dinner table, yes, the dinner table, and the "V" word came up. Kate's no dummy, and she knows where the babies come from, but she doesn't know the correct terminology. I know it's the proper way, but I ain't proper. So, we call it all "pepe." Anyway, she yells really loud, at the dinner table, "The baby comes out of the FAGINA!!??"

On Monday for Family Night, Neal decided to give the family a tutorial on the New Family Search website. It's amazing, by the way. After we kicked Abigail out of family night for teething-induced whining and sent her to bed, we got to work at the kitchen table. Kate was in the zone on Monday. She was 100% clown, and when you have a kid like that at Family Night, chances are, you're not going to get anywhere. Except Giggle-Fest 2010.

Neal said, "First, you need to log in. Did you know that you have a membership number?

Kate: "Yeah. It's called 'My biscuits are burnin'!!'"

Then, Kate proceeded to sit down in front of the computer and act like she was doing work.

Kate: "Ok, first we need to type in 'P.' Where's the 'p?' Knock knock! Who's there? P. P who? You peed your pants!"

Neal and Me: "Kate, knock it off and move out of the way."

Kate: "Ok. Now we need to find 'L.' Knock knock! Who's there? L. L who? L is for loser!"

It was pretty much curtains after that. Needless to say, we didn't learn much about family search, but we DID have some gut laughs.

And my mother! Holy Cow! We are only separated by 3 pounds!! And 850 miles. We now wear the same size pant. A 10. She said she hasn't worn that size since she was a fetus. I can't wait to see her at the end of the month. We'll be in town for my little brother's wedding. We're flying this trip. With all the car troubles, and a husband who had to fly anyway because of a busy week, I caved. I'm looking forward to an hour-45 instead of 14.

By the way, Lent is going well. Better than expected, actually. I had a rough first 4 days, but now it's pretty easy. I had a small coke on Friday before I drove to the coast, but I wasn't craving it, and it wasn't that big of a deal. Bad side effect, however - slight weight gain. I'm not liking that.

Single Dad

I had a great time at the coast. Good friends, good food, and a nice place to stay. It was awesome!

Neal and the girls survived without me. Sometimes there's a tiny part of me that worries when I leave the husband in charge. It really is a tiny part. Nothing based on any rational fear of losing my children or the whole house exploding. But a tiny, little worry that I quickly put aside as I ditch them occasionally for a little time alone.

On Saturday morning, Neal loaded up the girls and took them to the Keizer Craft Fair. Before you think unkind things about my manly man going to the Craft fair (a place even I, a woman, avoid at all costs), let me splain. Sarah was playing flute duets with another band member for some fund-raising for Seattle.

Funny thing happened while at the Craft Fair. A funny thing that makes that tiny fear of leaving him in charge morph into a larger, founded fear. You see, Abby is fast, furious, and hard to catch. Like a chicken. I get nervous when her feet are on the ground. Mr. Dad was chatting with some friends. Suddenly, Abigail was gone. Seriously gone. Just like that! Frantically, Neal searched for my baby. Soon, he found that she had wandered onto the stage, and was approaching an open door that went to the outside world.

As Neal grabbed Abby, a nice man said to Neal, "is this your coffee? She came up to me and handed it to me." Neal was puzzled as he took the coffee. Where the heck did she get the coffee? Geniusly, Neal Hansel and Gretel-ed it to the source. Following the coffee spillage trail, he found a woman cleaning up spilled coffee on her table. Abigail had apparently swiped, and spilled, her coffee while her back was turned. Neal was very embarrassed as gave her back her mostly empty coffee and offered to help her with clean-up.

I'm sure Abigail drank some of the coffee. I'm sure of it. She drinks everything. Her new shoes smell like coffee now too, from the spillage, of course.

As I type now, Abby just handed me her favorite stuffed animal. It's a penguin. I'm reminded of another "Neal and the girls gone solo" story. . .

Last summer, Neal decided to take the girls to the zoo. I don't remember where I was. But it wasn't with them. On the way, Kate got car sick and puked ALL OVER THE FREAKING CAR for the millionth time. Poor Neal had to clean up without the help of the maid.

Then, while at the zoo, they decided to leave the gift shop and go get some ice cream. While eating the ice cream, they noticed Abigail holding a penguin stuffed animal. CRAP! She stole it from the gift shop! Neal ran back to pay for it, because of course, she had tried to eat it, and he didn't want to return soiled merchandise. "Good news!" said the zoo worker at the register. "Each mommy animal comes with a free baby today!"

That's how we ended up with 2 penguins that day. Two penguins to add to the stuffed animal bin that is in the closet. They mate in there, you know. No matter how many bags you "Goodwill" or "D.I.," their numbers keep on growing.