Nothing but a gold digger...

My son got his first "nose bleed" today...

"SEE!?" he says to me shoving a little blood-stained index finger in my face, and he was in a freakish panic before the hysteria of laughter escaped me and I grabbed the camera.
We washed his hands and I gave him a reassuring pat on the back and sent him on his way.

I guess he realized it wasn't life-threatening after all, but that maybe he shouldn't dig for gold so diligently next time.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

I love this time of year! Thanksgiving feasts and Christmas magic!!
Here's a couple shots of our Turkey Day Delight...
A turkey has never looked so good...at least not one that I have ever made. (Poor thing last year looked like an anorexic Angelina Jolie on diet pills after a tummy tuck. Apparently that's what happens when you leave it in the oven at 325* for oh, 3 or 4, ok 7 hours.)
This is my living room as of yesterday. After fishing through 2 attic storage spaces (where I found Halloween stuff I could have put to good use 2 months ago), the garage (where I found that smell, finally) and numerous closets (where I found Waldo, in case any of you are still looking) I finally got it all in place and created my own little winter wonderland in whites, creams and silver...

Close-up of my fabulous Christmas tree...
Yes, that is a disco ball as my tree topper!
Look at these darling little ice skates, (1/2 off at Target last year!)...
...and my cute little clip-on birds...
...and all the packages!!
Maybe one of those is for me?

"What hurts?"

So, tonight was a night like no other. My son actually finished his dinner. 

Every bite. 

This never happens. He'll sit there tapping his fork on his plate with an extended bottom lip staring blankly at whatever entree is on the receiving end of his pity-fest.

But tonight he ate. 

And he ate it all. 

And he told me it was delicious.

When he was done he quickly grabbed his empty paper plate and twisted to launch himself out of the dining chair to come show me just how much he truly loved my meal...but his shoe got stuck in the chair (darn rubber soles) and he fell smashing his knee on the hardwood floor and slamming his face into his alfredo-smeared plate. 

I looked him over. No broken bones, no missing eyeballs. I  gave one of my magical healing kisses but it didn't seem to work this time.

I shushed him a little and asked, "What hurts, baby?"

He looked up at me with tears the size of baseballs and between sobs replied, 

"The floor!"

Thank goodness...

...for warm flannel pajamas on a cold winter's night.

...for 2 of man's best friends and 3 feline landlords.

...for hobbies and talents that keep my hands from becoming engaged in idle workmanship.

...for sunshine after rain.

...for dinner parties and game nights with close friends.

...for a hairstylist who knows what she's doing.

...for good literature.

...for Saturday morning cartoons and pancake breakfasts.

...for tearless shampoo, Oxy Clean, Magic Eraser and Gorilla Glue.

...for cuddling weather like thunderstorms at midnight, snow storms on the weekends and cool breezy days.

...for Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk ice cream on a sweltering July afternoon.

...for handwritten thank you notes and love letters.

...for a church calling and a dozen youth that have taught me more about the Gospel than I ever thought possible.

...for moms who play "the-coolest-nana-ever" part so well.

...for family get-togethers with silly games and funny faces caught on tape.

...for fond memories and cherished moments that you can't repeat but keep you close to the person you shared them with, even though they're far, far away.

...for a friend's shoulder to cry on or to laugh with when times get rough or rowdy.

...for a roof over my head and food on my table.

...for 8 tiny hands reaching to hold mine and 4 pairs of lips puckered for perfect little kisses.

...for that certain someone who knows everything there is to know about me and still chooses to come home at the end of the day. I love you, Mr. Simpleton! ;)

The Countdown Has Begun...

No, I'm not talking about a countdown to opening Christmas presents with tags that read "Do not open till Dec. 25th" or even the famed New Year's Eve ball drop on Time's Square. 

My eldest daughter, Daphne, found out yesterday that Santa Claus is....well, not so much alive in body as in spirit, let's say. She wasn't upset about it or anything. She simply came to me in the study while I was alone reading an email and shut the door behind her. 

"Mom?"

"Mm-hmm."

"When did you stop believing in Santa Claus?"

Notice the choice of wording in this phrase??

I didn't.

So, I say (like a goon), "Oh, I don't remember, honey."

Dramatic pause.

       When it registered to me what had just occurred, I stopped reading my email, eyes still affixed to the plasma screen and could feel my eyes dilating and my face getting hot from embarrassment.  

My 10 year old daughter had just outsmarted my 29 year old college educated self. 

       I slowly turned my face around to meet hers, hoping she'd be staring at her shoes or twirling her hair completely unaware of the mounds of information I had just unleashed in one thoughtless remark. Instead she was smiling sweetly at me. 

"Why?" I asked. 

"I just wondered." And she giggled. 

"When did YOU stop believing in Santa Claus?" I asked sarcastically (and in a somewhat reverse psychological mode) hoping to SOMEHOW recover.

"Right now." She said it with one eyebrow raised and one corner of her mouth to match.

       We both started laughing. She didn't seem upset. She wasn't mad. It was like she knew all along and was just solidifying it for her own personal knowledge base. 

I was soooo relieved. So, we made a pact that she would keep the magic real for the other kids as long as they still believed.

Which is where now I understand that my own personal countdown has begun. 

       My first child has found out the truth about Santa Claus. This will trickle into a domino effect of realizing the truth about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny, (it probably happened simultaneously with the Santa Clause trap, when I stop and think about it). 

How long will it be before Abby finds out?

Then, it will be Julia who discovers the depths of reality all too soon.

Once Garrett comes to that realization, it's over. That's it. No more magic. 

       What I mean by 'magic' is not the magic of family gatherings and giving handmade gifts to each other and drinking hot cocoa on Christmas morning with EXTRA whipped cream. 

That lovely magic will always be there. 

       I mean the magic of leaving homemade reindeer food out on the front lawn and staying up 2 hours passed bed time going outside every 5 minutes to check and see if any of it has been eaten yet...

       The magic of wondering if the little jingle they heard outside just as they were drifting off to sleep might really have been Santa's sleigh flying overhead...

       The magic of seeing little chubby faces light up at the sight of half-eaten cookies and an empty milk glass next to a fireplace lined with stuffed-to-the-brim stockings and believing that a Jolly Old Elf had stood there and been so generous.

All of my kids are just about through the stages where they are seeing things for the first time. 

No more "Oh, honey look, a choo-choo train!" as a little hand pats the window and you mimic "Too- too!"

No more shouts of  "Weeee!" as you venture down a slide for the first time getting butterflies in your tummy. 

No more first steps into that classroom all by yourself on the first day of school and looking back to see if I'm still there. 

No more eating a lemon for the first time and wondering if your mouth would be stuck that way if you took another lick.

No more losing a very first tooth and contemplating whether to put it under the pillow you sleep under or under the pillow next to you so you wouldn't accidentally squish the Tooth Fairy. Better yet, just leave it on the dresser. 

No more sitting in silence by the windowsill watching snowflakes fall because you'd never seen them before. 

With each little moment like this that fades, I come to understand bit by bit that time doesn't fly...

It has it's own corporate jet, airport and landing strip.

Last night...

I had the strangest dream. 

     I was sitting by a window and it was snowing. Internally, I felt like it was not safe to go outside. Like something would get me. The dream had a very tense feeling about it. But my cat, Laslow, was outside playing. Enter stage left 2 bears, a mama and a baby. They look like they might attack my little Laslow, but instead they played with him, frolicking in the snow. I felt comforted, so I moved on. 

     I found myself next in a dark and dingy, dirty bathroom with my daughter Daphne. We were trying to get ready for something but I just felt dirty all the time and kept washing my hands and hers because of the filthiness of the bathroom, (you should know I have a phobia of public restrooms). Finally, we just had to leave because we were accomplishing nothing. 

     Next thing I know we are in a green and lush village and it's sunny outside. I have gone and bought groceries for an elderly lady and delivered them to her house. I see Jonathan and he is staring blankly at me. I look at the old lady and she is staring blankly at me. Even the people on the old lady's TV are staring blankly at me. So, to get some kind of reaction I pretended to faint. 

     No one helped me. They just kept staring. I finally got up and just walked away.

Strange, I know.

Here are some symbols I looked up:

Cat: 

These animals are independent and refined, yet powerful as predators. The dream is telling you to beware of the cat's qualities that you may not be making use of, such as independence or intuition. 

Bear:
Victory over your enemies. Seeing a bear is usually always a good sign.

Window:
Windows are about your view or perspective of what's going on around you. 

Elderly Woman:
Seeing old people in your dreams suggests wisdom and it's a good sign. It may mean that you have achieved some sort of enlightenment or that through hard work you will achieve your goal. 

Snow:
Snow is associated with purity, beauty and a soft texture, while its presence can give new perspective to something ordinary.

Additional input is greatly appreciated.  

Just don't make me sound like I need to go see a psychiatrist or anything! 

Be gentle, people. 

It Can't Be?!

Is it SERIOUSLY almost Thanksgiving?! 

Then, it'll be Christmas?

Then, a new year?!

How is this possible?

I didn't even have time to get a proper tan this summer!

P.S....

As an expansion to my previous post please refer to Matt. 7:15-20.

Just another day...

So, like today...yeah, it's my birthday....
29 years old....
That's almost 30....

Let's see what did I do today? The usual: updated my fitness blog, laundry, dishes, swept, planned a seminary lesson, checked the mail, updated my fitness blog again, worked out, shuffled kids, signed papers, paid the Schwan's man for food I didn't need...

OH! And answered emails from friends who love me on my birthday!! Wrote on people's walls on Facebook who told me happy birthday!! Read comments left for me on Myspace by people who sent me love on my birthday!! Went to lunch with the coolest sister ever on my birthday!! Opened the coolest gifts ever from my mom and daughters on my birthday!!
*sigh* Let's see...what else?...

Oh!! And I mooned somebody on my birthday!!





HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!

Attack of the Mommies!!

So, my son comes home from another obviously adventurous sleepover at Nana's house telling me ALL about mommies. I was busy cleaning house and trying to get ready for the day so, I was kinda *ahem* half-listening to him. When I finally tuned him back in this is what I caught:

Garrett: "...and they pull them under the bed and wrap them up from their head to their toes and all you can see are their eyes. And they walk around like this..." At this point, he proceeds to put his arms out in front of him and he takes a few rigid stiff-legged steps while making a groaning sound.

Me: (I have put the pieces of his story together by now [just like you have, I'm sure] and a laugh escaped me so abruptly that I sounded something like a pig snorting and a cat hissing all at the same time). He gave me a funny look. "Honey, do you mean 'mummies'?"

Garrett: "Yeah, mommies. It was ca-ra-zy!"

Mommies, mummies - they're all the same. We all walk around going "Uugghhh..."

Oh! And the source of the mummy story actually came from a commercial he and my mom saw. Anymore, the commercials are getting just as bad as the TV shows themselves (anyone seen the Scion car ads??). But, I will refrain for now and leave that topic for another post at a later time.

Aaarrgh ye ready fer a paaartay!?

Recently, my son celebrated his 5th b-day (gasping for breath as we speak). He wanted pirates and treasure and, oh yeah, lots of presents! You know how I can't turn down an excuse for a party of any kind, so you knew it was going to have to be big! Look and see...



Yes, that is the cake. And before you ask, it, *cough*, uh, WAS, uh, supposed to look that way! Yeah. Don't you know a sunken pirate ship when you see one?! Sheesh.

Isn't it funny when someone blows out candles on a cake everyone else's lips can't help but pucker up, too?

I think he was quite proud of himself for blowing the candles out on the 4th try!

I found this stow-away trying to find the booty on her own. Aargh! Walk the plank she must!


The party wench and her gender-confused shipmate. Yes, I dressed up. Are you kidding!?
Aargh, matey! Hands off me booty, ye land lubber!

Life With Kitty

I was trying to play with Piper today but as you can see she was being super lazy all cuddled up on her spot. So, I decided to get the camera out instead and just shoot her natural beauty.
As I am attempting this, I caught a glimpse of something in the lens as the shutter clicked. Look...do you see it? The black fuzzy stuff in the upper left corner...yeah, that's Masseuse, our cat. I couldn't get another shot of Piper for him standing in front of the lens wiping his snotty nose all over it and yowling at me. Can you tell he was obviously feeling left out?

But as I leaned back on the couch and reverted my attention to His Highness, THIS is the look I get!


Pray tell, what in Heaven's name hath I done, Master Masseuse, to have offended thee so?
Shall I fetch thee clean water from the spring?
Should I swiftly flee to the ocean shore and bring thee back the finest of freshest tuna?
Shall I command the sun to rise in the West instead of the East tomorrow?

Honestly, this cat has some major personality disorders. I "rescued" him from a garage sale about 2 years ago. He was skinny and hungry but friendly. When I picked him up, (which is always my downfall because I never put them back down and they inevitably end up coming home with me, much to my husband's dismay), he began kneading my chest and arms, hence how he got his name. Now, read on and tell me that I am not the one needing rescuing here!

Let's discuss just a couple of his disorders, quickly before he notices I'm gone:

Schizophrenia: One minute he's lazily laying next to me in bed bathing himself. The next thing I know, he's clawing me to get to the door and escape something that I guess is going to eat him. I used to jump out of bed, too when he did this. We'd both be looking around the room all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, eyeballing each other. After a minute or two I'd crawl back into bed, but not before checking underneath it and in the covers for some kind of culprit for his madness. I have come to realize that it was the voices in his head told him to do that.

OCD: He walks figure 8s around my legs every morning while I'm in the bathroom getting dressed. This sounds typical of a cat, right? No. It's not! He does this every morning at the same time and if he can't get to me he starts yowling outside the door frantically. Eventually, he starts knocking his head against the door. I'm not kidding. Plus, he HAS to race me down the stairs every morning. And he HAS to win. No matter how much of a head start I get, he will fly past me scooby-dooing the last few steps and risking a broken neck just to beat me. I used to think it was a little game we played. No, this is his sick obsession with authority over me. Which leads me right into a BIG one...

Narcissism: Hence, the reason I started this post to begin with. His feelings of grandiosity and prestige prevented him from allowing me to give any sort of attention to any other four-legged member of the clan. He has this sense of entitlement, that everything in the house is HIS; the couch where I was just sitting 2 seconds ago, the magazine I am reading at the moment, the laptop I am currently typing on (right now), the milk on my cereal, the potted plants outside, my hair ties-whether they're in my hair or not, the clothes on my floor, my jewelry-specifically dangley earrings, the dog's food, the bread in the bread box that's double bagged, the water from the sink while I'm doing the dishes, even the dust bunnies I so neatly swept into a pile that I had to turn my back on for just a second to get the dust pan...

Dissocial/Multiple Personalities: OK, get this. I'm relishing in a rare cuddling moment with Masseuse. He's happily curled up in my arms, I'm stroking his head, he's purring loudly and has his eyes closed. I scratch his nose, his all-time favorite scratching spot, and he presses his face into my finger. He's liking this, right? That's what one would assume. All of a sudden he opens his eyes and, you know that look in the picture above?
It's too late.
I can't back away slowly.
I can't shake hands and compromise a truce.
I can't bribe him with super yummy and very expensive kitty treats.
All I can do is cover my throat and curl into the fetal position and pray for the beatings to end soon.
Within a few minutes it's all over. I emerge only partially scathed and bruised. There are claw marks on my forehead and teeth marks up and down my arms. Clumps of my hair are in piles here and there all around me. I am bleeding profusely from one ear.
Then, he licks me.
On my sore spot.

I have contemplated taking him to the vet for some sedatives of some kind but am afraid of what will happen if I forget a dose one day.

Angel Kitty or Devilish Feline? You decide.

Bringin' Sexy Back

What you are peering at is my son's attempt at "Sexy". How do I know that he was specifically going for that, quote-unquote, sexy look, you ask?

Simple.

As he bounded down the stairs and came to a very intendedly suave and debonair stand still, just slightly leaning on the piano he looks at me and the girls and flashes his signature wink in our general direction and says...

"Bow-chica-wow-wow!"

Yes, I know. Everything you're thinking...I know it.

There Goes My Life

Where's a Bottle of Time When You Need One?

It is amazing to me how quickly time passes. With Garrett starting school and all my girls who have been in school and it's no longer such a big deal to them, I have come to the realization that precious time with my children is gone. Time that I hope I spent wisely and that I hope even more so has had an impact on them. It's time I wish I had back. Time that has slipped out the back door with all its suitcases and left the key on the counter.
I've sent kids to school before. And I cried on all of their first days, too. But like I said in a previous post; this one is different. With Garrett leaving, I come home to an empty house. It's the weirdest sensation to look over your shoulder and not have a chubby little face right there ready with the question, "Is it snack time yet?"
So, today I took the last of my offspring out for a very special mom and son date letting him choose what all we did. Here's the day in pictures for your enjoyment:

Eating at Long John Silver's


Photo Op


Play date at the park.


I remember when this slide used to be too big for him. Now nothing seems too daunting for my little man.




Not a bad little pic for a 4 year old Pre-schooler!




He was supposed to wait on me. I guess I better get used to that idea. Time doesn't believe in waiting. I found that out today.

Did I Do That?!

Recently, a couple close friends of mine and I found some extra courage just lying around and, after no one claimed it, we decided to put it to good use ourselves while at Hurricane Harbor. We opted to let a goofy black guy who insisted on being referred to as "That Boy" who was working his FIRST day on the job, no less, and a short Mexican lady with a major attitude problem strap us all together into body halters and string us up by our ankles from a 200 foot arch in the middle of the park.



That's the easy part...climbing. Although, I'm told about 1/4 of the way up the incline I turned ghost white and started chanting.


Anyhow, as the people below are turning into ants and I'm seeing my life flash before my eyes I had to wonder how I used up all that extra courage so fast. Some people waved to us. I waved back. Some people laughed. I didn't feel like laughing. I chanted some more. Some people had their hands clasped over their mouths. I felt like I might throw up but I couldn't get my hand to my mouth because that meant I would have to let go of the death grip I had on Ila. I swallowed instead.


The crane that was pulling us by our feet up and backwards came to a jerky halt. I saw "That Boy" wave to me which was the signal for me to pull the cord. Yes, he picked me to pull the cord that would release us into the eternal depths of swinging terror! And I know why...because he knew by the time I got up there I'd be the one to freak out and would give the best show for those on the ground. At least I didn't disappoint.


I blindly reached behind me and grabbed the little orange nubby thing wondering if this was the pull-cord or the thing that unhooks my harness. I winced and yanked. Nothing happened for a split second and it gave me time to latch on to Ila just case I had unhooked myself.


Then, the exhilaration of free fall. The wind in your face. The sun on your back. The nausea that has solidified and crept up your throat. We swung a million miles an hour back and forth like a pendulum in the sky. Although, I must say we 3 would have made a stunning pendulum. Anyhow, after I realized we were only a few feet above the people wading in the pools below I opened my eyes. I released my grip on Ila. Her arm was white and limp. I doubt she's recovered the feeling back in it yet. They may have had to amputate. There was a little girl who caught my eye and gave me 2 thumbs up. I replied with the same, albeit shaky, gesture. I almost puked on her.



When we were unharnessed and freed I took my first few steps on solid ground. However, there was a sound following me. It sounded like someone tapping a small drum behind me. I looked down. It was my knees. My hands had turned into mush and were now just useless appendages that drug the ground. My head flopped around on my neck like a bowling ball trying to balance on a chopstick.
But I'd do it all again tomorrow!