Pink? No Way! Oh, Wait. . .

Everyone needs a Sarah. Everyone. She's awesome, she's funny, and she likes to disarm my anger by making me laugh. She's good at it.

On Tuesday night, she had a band concert. It was great. Just the jazz and symphonic bands, and they played some good music and it was short and sweet. And, ABBY STAYED ON OUR ROW THE ENTIRE TIME AND WAS QUIET AND GOOD!!!! Who says that the days of miracles have passed? Anyway, as Sarah was dressing to go to the concert, I told her to grab the pink hair band. It would look good with what she was wearing.

"Pink? No Way! I hate pink! I am NOT wearing a pink hairba. . . . oh wait. This month is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I'll wear pink (and she walked away smiling)."

She is ever the activist, without being annoying, overbearing, or "my way or the highway" about it. She just likes justice and fairness in the world. Is that so wrong? She's just like her sweet Dad.

For band, they are doing a major fundraiser by selling holiday poinsettias. She came home from school bearing the envelope and sign up sheet and told me they were selling poison-ettas. I love that kid. She just keeps those words a comin'!

Speaking of poison, earlier this year while we were in Utah, I overheard Sarah talking with her cousin, Taylor. They were discussing the Percy Jackson book series. They both thought that Poseidon was Pois-e-den. Silly cousins.

Since it's Halloween time and all, I've been thinking about our past Halloweens. One that sticks out in my mind vividly is Sarah's Infamous Unicorn costume. I will find video and relate the story. Heart warming. She's a keeper, for sure.

Hey Little Girl! Do You Want Some Candy?

In order of appearance: Dad, Mom, Sarah, Kate, Abigail, and 2 token pumpkins from a YW activity. Boy, that mouth on Abby's jack-o-lantern sure looks familiar. . . .

Sarah stated that her jack-o-lantern had the eerie likeness of a child molester. Good observation, Sarah! I think she's right. Watch out! It's Chester the Molester! Oh wait. It's just Aunt Laurel.

Fiddle with the hobo gloves.

Clap the hobo gloves.

Sniff the hobo gloves.

When I purchased Kate's goodwill knit underwear pocket gloves, I bought a spare pair so that we could make her some hobo gloves.

The last couple of months, I have had an increasing repulsion to Neal's deodorant. A little back ground (I know you're dying to know): He prefers deodorant to anti-perspirant. I think it has something to do with the link between aluminum and alzheimers (crazy train). I purchase all of our sundries in this household. So, every couple of months, I'm in the deodorant aisle of the Target, sniffing male pit sticks. He doesn't care what scent it is, but I do. I'm the one that rolls over in bed every night and gets a nose-full of Neal arm pit.

So far, I've been ok with certain Old Spice varieties. But then I bought some Old Spice Swagger. Really high on the scent-o-meter. Like, that's all my nose would notice when he would walk by (sometimes my nose gets a little wacked-out).

Then, Abby started getting into his deodorant. Every day for about 4 days, I would catch her in our bathroom, rubbing Old Spice Swagger all over her face and arms. It seared my sniffer. Suddenly, I no longer had the desire to hug and kiss my 2 year old. Or my husband! Old Spice Swagger was wrecking my home!

"Alright, that's it!" I told Neal. "You are going to wear anti-perspirant. The scent is less strong, and if you want any action from your wife, you'd better switch." The next day, I was in the deodorant aisle at the Target sniffing anti-perspirants! I settled on some Right Guard. Not only was it endorsed by the NBA, but it was only $2.49 with a $1 off coupon.

My nose is much happier.

We Have a Cat Problem

This is our real-life Poo Corner. Abby goes into Sarah's room every morning around 10 to "drive her car." But I know what she's really doing. She doesn't fool me. Neither does the smell. Time for this lazy mother to start thinking about toilet training. . . . . . . . . . . OK. I thought about it.

Oh look! The little homeless child just dumped out a Costco-deluxe bag of tortilla chips. To our friends who came over for food, these were the chips we served. Hahahaha! You never know where your food has been! In my defense, I only put the top layer into the chip bowl. I put the bottom layer back into the bag and I just now finished them off. And I had literally just mopped my floor 30 minutes prior. I'm THAT kind of friend.

Yesterday, I got a call from the middle school. "Mom. I don't feel good." So, I picked Sarah up from school at about noon. By one, she seemed fine and happy. Little stinker.

Today, I got a call from the elementary school. It was Kate and she seemed upset. My mother radar started beeping and I was wondering if Kate was wanting attention like Sarah had, so she conjured up an illness. I went to the school and got her anyway. Then she promptly barfed when we got home. Good thing I picked her up from school. I would hate to see her do another performance of "Barf All Over The Desks and Wreck the Janitor's Day." Let's keep that little number at the old school.

Speaking of Kate, she decided she wanted a pair of gloves to wear to school. While perusing the Goodwill last week, I found new knit gloves for $.99. They were cute, so I bought them for her. On the way to school, I told her, "See that little pocket on your backpack? You could keep your gloves in there."

Kate: "No, I can't. I have a pair of underwear in there."

Me: "What? Why? Have they been there all school year?"

Kate: "Remember when we went camping in the summer? I left some underwear in my backpack."

Me: "Well, I think it's time the take them out."

She took them out and threw them on the floor. It only took me about a week to take them out of the car and into the house. Good thing they were clean undies.

The lawn was aerated the other day. I saw Kate out back walking gingerly on her tip-toes with a look of disgust on her face. Later that night, she said, "Mom, I think there has been tons of cats in our yard at night. There is cat poo EVERYWHERE!! Even in the front yard! We have a problem."

If I Was the Boss of the Sacrament Meeting Program Making

If I had the job of printing up the Sacrament Meeting programs every Sunday, I would add a little "Apologies" section. That way, if your kid was a monster during the meeting, you could submit an apology or maybe a reason why. Like this - "Jimmy was the devil today because he's had an earache."

Or, "Sally chased away the spirit today because she's cutting teeth and is missing her nap, and she's freaking starving because her dad only packed dry cheerios."

You get the picture. I'm sure I would have a contribution every week. Although yesterday, Abby wasn't so bad. But the Sunday before, she was seriously out of control. Worst behavior from one of my kids EVER!! And Neal was in another ward, so I was alone. Not that it would have mattered, really.

I would have apologized the the K's who were in front of us, for getting Abby kicks in the backs of their head. Seriously. And cheerios were flying everywhere, and she shredded her string cheese into a million pieces and flung them everywhere. Then there were the shrieks. If anyone knows my 3 girls, they know of the pain of their screams. They can scream so loud, and it hurts so bad, and it is so very very annoying.

My first apology would read something like this - "to all of the dear brothers and sisters who wear hearing assistance devices, please meet me in the north lobby after the block for replacement batteries. I'm sorry my child blew them all."

I felt like a circus. Especially when Abby kept meowing like a cat in heat as I took her out for the 3rd time. And we were on the second row, middle section. It was obvious who was boss, and who was in control, so I just laughed every time I had to make my exit or entrance.

And then on the way out to the car after church, Abby parked herself face down in the middle of the parking lot. Like she was going to take a nap. She wouldn't budge. I think she was possessed.

Yesterday was primary program practice. It was fun. I have a kid in my class who makes me laugh. He's a great kid, although I do have to make sure I am sitting next to him at all times. There's lots of energy in that one. But it's a good energy. Anyway, every Sunday, he and another boy barricade me out of the class room. Yesterday it was with all of the chairs, and a wad of boondoggle tied from the door knob to the chair pile. When I told them to clean it up, my little buddy pulls out a giant pocket knife and cuts the boondoggle. He said, "it's a really good thing to carry knives with you at all times, because you never know when you'll need to use it."

In the chapel during the program practice, my little friend stuck something in my face. He said, "Look Sister Peton! My toenail!!" Sure enough, he'd ripped his big toenail off. I almost gagged. Then he said, "Look how dirty my fingernails are!" They were. I just smiled, because I understand. It did not reflect on his parents. They're awesome. He's just a boy, right! Anyway, he said, "Hey, I can clean my fingernails out with my toe nail!" And he proceeds to begin the process. Gag. Then he says, "Hey, my teeth work too, see!" Gag. It was hilarious and it kept me entertained throughout the long 2 hour practice.

It also made me wonder what my kids say/do when I'm not around.

On to other business. . . . in case you're wondering, a post-coital exam is not recommended. I hated every second of it. But, it narrowed down our options, and things are looking good. Neal's packing some heat and everything should work out. Just one more lovely test on Monday to see how my dang uterus is working.

14 Years Old

Who IS that amazing couple??

Our marriage is 14 years old today! Our oldest will be 13 in December. Good thing that math adds up. Some people think that because our kids are so far apart, maybe I had Sarah when I was a teen, and Neal was a kind soul who married me and took on my illegitimate child. I like when people wonder that. It makes me feel like a rebel. And it makes me feel young.

What better way to kick off our anniversary festivities than with my legs in stirrups at the Dr's office this morning! TMI? Then don't read. Or keep on reading if you like too much information.

I'm starting on an aggressive fertility course. You see, we're working hard to finish having our family. Uh huh, oh yeah baby! Apparently sex isn't enough anymore. Who knew?

Most people reading this probably know that it took me 4.5 years to get pregnant with the Abby. Who knows why? It just did. I'm turning 35 next month, and we want 2 more kids. But I don't want to be much older when I have them. We've been trying for a year now, with no luck, except the "getting lucky" part of the process. I've even been filling out complicated charts and temperature counts and crap for the last 7 months. Kind of a kill-joy, really.

So now, I get to have a post-coital examination sometime late this week within seconds after ovulation (SO SICK!!!!!). I literally have to run to the dr's office right after some morning sex and let them have a looksie. Ugh! And "post-coital" is one of those words that either makes me want to giggle or gag. I'll let you know in a few days.

Then, 2 days later, Neal gets to give "the sample." How's that for an anniversary surprise? I called him at work today and broke the news to him. For some reason, he's not very excited. Go figure. Luckily it can happen in the privacy of our own home.

And on the 25th of this month, I get an endometrial biopsy. Depending on that, it's probably some progesterone treatments and fertility medicine. Apparently I'm not ovulating very strongly. Who knew? Shouldn't the P90X make me do EVERYTHING strongly?? I want my money back.

So there you have it. My privacy, love life and reproductive health brought to you in a nutshell. Lucky you!

Lucky for us, we did the real anniversary festivities this weekend at the coast. We planned an overnighter at a HO-tel, and a leisurely day at the coast hiking. Well, the weather was windy and rainy, so no hike. But, we had a nice drive up the coast and ate at some tasty places. But first, we spoke at Youth Conference, which was in Newport. That was really fun. I've never done a "team-love" talk before. It was interesting planning it with Neal because our brains reside in Oppositesville, and sometimes we get to the same conclusion from two totally different places. Which makes it interesting to work together. . . . Especially considering my bullying and impatience. But it worked out well, I think . I love how energized I get after I've spent some time with the youth. I love them and miss them.




A stormy day. This picture doesn't do the weather justice. It was one of those "raining sideways in sheets" days.

Do I Eat It?

A couple of days ago, as I walked into my bathroom to start to get ready for bed, something caught my attention in the mirror. It was a stain on my tiny t pocket. What was that? Was something in my pocket? Why yes! It was a chocolate covered peanut that was quite warm and melty. A remnant of a pms-ing Target trail mix binge from earlier in the day (Have you ever tried their trail mixes, by the way? They are awesome! Many to choose from.).


Question is -- do I eat it?


This past summer, I discovered the joys of Friday morning garage sale shopping. Don't get me wrong here - I'm not a freakish garage sale expert. I just pay attention as I'm out and about, and if I see a sign and have a few extra minutes, I peek in. It's been totally worth it!


For example, these lovely, gently used chairs were only $20 each. What's that, you say? Get outta town! And bed-bugs were NOT included! (Neal's been a little freaked out about the bed-bug infestation stories. He should have avoided the newspaper on the day they had the story about the return of the bed bug. He's been worrying ever since).


And, I was in the market for this next little bad-boy. Again, $20. Score! That saved me a bunch of money.

I also found us some great, broken-in baseball mitts for 2 bucks each. Uh huh! And a "Birds of the Willamette Valley" book that I almost bought at the bookstore last summer for $16. ONLY FIDDY CENTS!!

I must admit, I am quite savy. I only buy things that I've been planning on buying. Otherwise, I could end up with a lot of other peoples cheap junk. Uh HEM!! *Like a certain someone who was with me at a garage sale, and bought a wig. Another wig, mind you. Yes, a wig. From some old dead lady estate sale. "But it's brand new! It's still in the box! LOOK! The tags are still on it!"*

Hot Family Night

Many moons ago, I had a job in Bountiful, Utah. I would always get a kick out of the Bountiful Fire Department firemen/women. They would walk around with a giant "BFD" on the backs of their shirts and coats. Poor guys/gals. I wonder if it's the same with the fire department in Blackfoot, Idaho. Or Butte, Montana. Or Beaverton, Oregon.
We went to the Keizer Fire Deparment open house for family night last night. They were passing out these awesome hats. I wore mine all night, much to the embarrassment of Neal. Sometimes I like to annoy. Maybe it's because I get bored.
Sarah refused to wear a hat. Stinking almost 13 year olds. She also refuses to dress up for Halloween this year. Which is really nice for this slightly lazy/uncrafty/uninspired mother. Only 2 costumes to throw together this year!!

Abby learned how to climb out a window. That's a good skill that may come in handy someday. Especially since our curfew is going to be 11. Possibly even 10. We'll see when we get there.

This poor fire dog, who desperately needed a dry clean, was drug around by Abigail for a while. She staked her claim and paraded around for a good 5 minutes. At random moments, she would turn around and hug him/her. What a bossy boss.
And Sarah, oh my Sarah. She scored some major points with mother last night. All through the evening, she kept tugging on my arm and saying things like, "Mom! (tug) Look at THAT fireman. He's cute."

"Mom! (tug) OOO! He's even cuter!"

"Mom! (tug) Why is it that most cops and firefighters are so hot? Except the cops at my school. One is hispanic with a mustache, and the other is bald and short. And they're both fat. But look at all of THESE firemen!"

"Mom! (tug tug tug)"

Me: "Sarah, if you tug on my arm one more time, I'm going to freak out right here and scream!" Sometimes I get a little touchy when I'm groped and tugged on by my kids. Or husband. Just ask them.

Sarah: "But Mom! I dare you to knock on that window and give a flirty little wave to those firemen in there!"

Me: "No. Not today."

Sarah: "Mom, please? Please. That would be so funny."

Me: "Nah. Why don't YOU do it?"

Sarah: "NO WAY! Ok, you have to pay me."

Me: "I'm not paying you. But I'll think you're the awesomest. And your aunt Laurel will give you some serious street cred if you do it."

That sealed the deal.

She did it.

And I laughed and gave her a high five. She is now in a new level of esteem. That's my girl!