last week's lessons

So I enjoyed doing this one so much last week, that I've decided to make it a weekly column, if you will. Here are some lessons learned:

• A third-grade squid dissection is not "gross;" it is "interesting" and clearly I don't have a very "scientific attitude."
• It will rain all day Sunday, except for the time you spend at church.
• Strawberries always taste better with angel food cake and whipped cream.
• Making a beard like President Lincoln's is not as easy as it looks.
• Playing baseball with my family is really, really fun.
• I should always check to make sure the shower head is actually pointing INSIDE the tub, and not at my face, before turning on the hot water.
• When your husband asks you out on a date and you assume he's asking your four-year-old daughter - it has been WAY too long since you've been out.
• Babysitters are worth their weight in gold.
• When cleaning out the garage, do not be surprised that you will throw out more than you thought you had to begin with.
• Getting takeout is always better than cooking.
• Favorite stores of the week: Costco and Banana Republic.

Anything you've learned that you'd like to share?

this is serious

I am sitting at my desk reading emails when I hear this lively number from the t.v. in the other room that Hannah is watching:

It's a puppy
he has to go pee-pee
But he caaaaan't
Becuase he's stuck in the house.
This is serious...
Sooner or later, everyone has to go pee-pee.

This life lesson brought to us courtesy of The Wonder Pets.

It is serious. And sooner or later, everyone does have to go pee-pee. So there you have it.

I was my own secret admirer

Last night, Josh and I got to talking. This wasn't just end-of-day analyzing, it was actual conversation. It was great (at least for me). Somehow, the topic came around to junior high school, and I got to reminiscing (Josh can't remember last week, let alone his childhood). I started telling the man I currently sleep with just how nerdy I used to be. I bared my BIG NERD SOUL for the guy I want to find me sexy. That must be love, no?

Some of my less-than-cool moments included:

• Daily lugging a huge alligator-skin case (filled with a huge tenor saxophone) on the bus, whacking everyone in the head as I passed. When presented with the choice of taking band or art, I convinced myself that I was not an artist and should therefore take band. A mistake of COLOSSAL proportion. That saxophone was my constant companion for four years. Why the saxophone? I honestly don't remember. Don't think I could play a note today to save my life.
• Racing through the halls after getting off the bus in the morning to get a library pass. My even nerdier older brother had convinced me that this is where the cool kids hung out during lunch. It wasn't. Took me a few rounds of dungeons and dragons to figure that one out.
• The baby blue eyeshadow pasted from eyelid to eyebrow...seriously don't know what to say there.
• The permed mullet. If I had any digital pictures of this, I would post them so you could appreciate just how beautiful my hair is now. I topped off those lovely feathered sides with about a gallon of aqua-net. That hairdo wouldn't have moved in a tornado. Oh, and I got really cool when I figured out how to mousse the back so it stayed crunchy, while the top was smooth and feathered. Yikes.
• Big, red, Sally-Jessie-Raphael glasses.
• Turquoise-blue flood pants and pink high top sneakers.
• Future Problem Solvers of America - does anyone know what that club is? I never really figured out what I was supposed to accomplish, but I was a proud member.

And my most shameful moment (can't believe I'm baring this sad part of my nerdy soul):

• Sending myself a valentine. It was sixth grade and for a dollar you could send a "secret valentine" to anyone in the school. I was wise enough then to recognize that I was so pathetic that nobody would be sending me one, so I paid my dollar and sent myself a balloon. It CANNOT get any more tragic than that.

The good news is, my story has a happy ending. I figured out (somewhere between high school and college) how to be a little more cool. I married a GREAT, smart, good looking, ambitious man who loves me, I have three beautiful children, and a fabulous rack. Oh, and maybe, just maybe, I won't have to buy myself a valentine this year. Here's hoping...

PETA's future is secure (in case you were worried)

"Mom, you can't use paper plates," Chase says early this morning.

"Why not?"

"Because if you use up all the resources of the world, there won't be anything left. WE HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THE ENVIRONMENT!"

First, it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet. Conservation and peace talks should never begin before eight. Secondly, I respect your position and have a truly GREAT [read mildly concerned] interest in preserving the environment. But can't we work on saving the world once I've had some breakfast? Can't I at the very least have had a diet coke before you start accusing me of destroying our planet? No, I actually can't. Because I know that once I have a diet coke, greedily consume its lifesaving contents, and throw the can in the trash - you will angrily open the trash and pull it out. I will then get a long lecture on recycling. Which will, no doubt, lead to your passionate plea for the preservation of animal habitats all over the world that are being destroyed. You've come to tears before when talking about this issue. REAL tears. And if by some small chance, I can get that can in the trash when you're not looking, you will dig through garbage to find it. I have reduced you to recycling BEHIND MY BACK. You are forced to sneak around when we're not looking and right our wrongs. I gotta love and respect you for that, kid.

"But Chase, these paper plates come from trees that have already fallen to the ground," I vainly attempt to say.

All right, stop looking at me like that. "How about this, I promise to recycle my diet coke cans if you will let me occasionally use paper plates. Deal?"

"Deal," he says.

And considering the large quantities of diet coke consumed daily in this household (not to mention the three or four I'll guzzle to get me through this morning), we ought to have preserved a few acres of rain forest.

Now go eat your pancakes.

fear factor

I was inspired by my fabulous MIL to write about five things that scare me:

1. Serial killers (and in particular, cannibalistic serial killers). I. AM. NOT. KIDDING. My fear of this began in college when I watched for the first time (and last) The Silence of the Lambs. That Hannibal Lechter scared the bejeebers out of me. I kid you not, I didn't sleep for two full nights after I saw that movie. Since then, I have been unable to watch movies or shows that involve any sort of serial killing. And yes, I know they're now making a "prequel." One movie I will not see, I can promise you that.

2. Heights. I hate being up high. My fear of heights includes ski lifts, bridges, roller coasters, and sky trams. I do not feel safe unless my feet are firmly planted on the ground. I mean, seriously, you honestly expect me to trust my life to a cable or rickety old roller coaster? No way, not this scardy cat.

3. Bobble head dolls. I've blogged about this one before, but I seriously am freaked out by them. That large free-floating head bobbing around, independent of the body. It's not right, I tell you.

4. Death. I truly am afraid of dying. I'm afraid of never being able to do all these things floating around in my head. I'm afraid of what something like that would do to my kids.

5. Snakes. I hate them - hate hate hate them. The slithery, scaly body twisting and writhing around...just gives me the willies. I think I've touched snakes like twice in my whole life, and it was enough. Nasty creatures. Bleach.

So tag, you're it...what're you afraid of?

lunch break

Here is what Hannah and I did today on our "lunch break," as she likes to call it:

And here is why:

I'm still not used to what they call "winter" around here. So used to wind chill, snow boots, gloves, and blizzards. If I had known there was a place this fantastic in February, I would have put us all in a truck and moved there long ago. However long this paradise lasts, I will NEVER, EVER take it for granted.

blink

Nine years ago today a very pregnant, very worn out wife went into the hospital with her husband, and came out with her family. Nine years ago today, our lives were forever changed. It was a cold, frigid Minnesota day that our little McKay was born. He weighed seven pounds, nine ounces, and was a gangly 21-inches long. He had little bits of peach fuzz for hair, that would fall out and not return fully for three-and-a-half years. He had long feet and tiny bird legs. His face was perfect with big blue eyes, and a darling pair of dimples. He never cried. We used to ask people if there was something wrong with our baby because he never cried.

This little thing (or alien, as Josh was fond of saying) rocked our world. We became THOSE kinds of people that talk of nothing but naps, diapers, breast milk, and bowel movements. We were newly unafraid of touching body fluids that were previously unimaginable. We saw the man in our house change diapers (and become REALLY GOOD at it, too). We learned to stop and take notice of simple things like a smile or a first step. We learned what it meant to really love and give of ourselves. We learned to be parents.

This little baby grew to a happy toddler, and is now a very happy boy. He still never cries, and always strives to please. He is athletic, smart, clever, and can tell a mean knock-knock joke. He was the beginning of what would become the family we know today. We can't imagine our life without him - and the others that would soon follow. How is it possible that he's now nine? How is it that I have stood still while time has gone on around me? Hug your babies tonight, memorize every tiny feature, and take a picture with your heart. Before you know it, they will be big boys that like to eavesdrop and get embarrassed of you in public. Don't blink - or you'll miss it. I've decided to tape my eyelids open, less I blink and this big boy is 19. Happy birthday, Mack!

P.S. I've almost forgiven him for being born a full week late. I said almost, as there are some things you never get over.

ugh, play dates

When I was a kid, a "playdate" didn't exit. You simply went outside, kids lived all around you, and you met in the center of the street to play in large herds. There was no scheduling, no parents transporting you, no background checks, and no sex offender lists. You went outside; you played. Today with my own kids - not so simple. We have not yet had the fortune of living on a street such as the one I grew up on. Schedules are consulted, mothers speak to mothers, calendars are compared, and if stars align - my kids get to play with kids that are not their siblings.

Okay. So here is my little rant for the day. We have a classmate of McKay's who is an only child. A very nice boy, to be sure, but victim of parents who decided to have children later in life - and only had one. Looking back on my own life, maybe an easier way to have done it, but not the choice I made. This particular child/mother combo calls us about twice a week just begging to get together.

I am not opposed to playdates in general, but there emerges a tricky balance when one is on the table. If one child gets to have a playdate, they all cry and scream for their own playdate. Suddenly, by ridding myself of one child, I am left with two resentful, unhappy ones. And bringing the playdate here does not always solve the problem. No, invariably three becomes a crowd and one of the brothers is left odd-man-out. It's a rare kid that can enjoy the dynamics of McKay and Chase equally (Sam W., you know I'm talking to you).

My kids play really well with each other. The boys will work violent sword fighting into any princess game so they can include Hannah. She will, in turn, happily mother her little soldiers and send them off to war. I sometimes resent this little world becoming unbalanced. I empathize with the poor mother of the only child - I'm sure he's bored to death and looking to expand his world with other friends. But we already have built-in friends. Why is it my job to make sure your kid is entertained? Mine are quite happy, thank you very much. And maybe if she called less often I'd be more willing to share my kids with her. I'm kind of selfish that way...

Of course, if someone is willing to take all three children...THEN BRING ON THE PLAYDATE, BABY. Otherwise, I believe this is why god invented caller I.D. (that, and to hide from the missionaries).

happy molehog day

Chase: Today is Molehog Day, you know.

What is Molehog Day?

Chase: It's where this molehog comes out of the ground to look for his shadow. If he sees it, then it means six more weeks of winter. If he doesn't, then it's automatically spring.

That sounds awesome. I hope he doesn't see his shadow then.

Chase: Me, too. Can we go see the Molehog?

No, it's in Pennsylvania.

Chase: Bummer. Since it's a holiday, do we have school today?

Yeah, sorry. They don't close school for Molehog Day.

Happy Molehog Day!

this week's lessons

Here are some things I've learned this week from my very exciting, extremely fulfilling life.

• Sniffles will always turn into bacteria-infected, green slimy nose kinds of things.
• If you take Hannah with you to go birthday shopping for ANYONE, she will make it a point to announce to them what they are getting.
• If you take Hannah with you to go shopping for anyone else, she will beg and manipulate you into buying presents for HER. You will be powerless to resist.
• Green slimy nose kinds of things always turn into ear infections.
• An hour in the doctor's waiting room does not a happy mother make.
• Making homemade bread will make everyone happy.
• Kids run the highest fevers at three o'clock in the morning. By eight a.m., they are annoyingly chipper.
• Mutual just is not fun for me, no matter what the refreshments are.
• It is truly paradise here. Don't listen to me when I complain.
• Hannah lacks the desire to blow her own nose.
• Homework can be fun when you're drunk on M&Ms.
• Frogs can hide for days in a tiny backyard, loudly croaking all night long, taunting you.
• A warm bath and a scrapbooking magazine can fix anything.
• The way to win favor with Chase is to let him run on the treadmill (after all - he's begged for a week). What? You want to exercise? Why don't you just sit here and watch t.v. some more, you silly kid... He'll be like putty in your hands after that.
• Josh practicing the guitar makes me happy.
• Greatest invention ever: the crock pot.

So there you have it. What did you learn this week?

Fuhgettabout it

Everyone, meet the Sopranos. Sopranos, everyone.

Okay, so only about six years late for me to join the rest of the free world, but better late than never, I guess. My new favorite show...A&E has started showing season one of the Sopranos (toned down and edited, of course) and I am addicted. I have always had a somewhat perverse fascination with all things Mafia. My favorites of all time movie list contains several classics - The Godfather (I and II, we don't even talk about III), Goodfellas, Casino, Donnie Brasco. What can I say? I love the mob. I think sometimes I just love rooting for the bad guy. Bad guys with heart. Bad guys who love their kids.

Unfortunately, I think I have become hooked. I don't want to wait a whole week for a new episode. It's KILLING me that I can't have my daily fix. I just may have to Netflix the rest and get caught up. I need to know what happens to Tony, Carmella, and crazy Uncle Junior. Definitely a must-see if you haven't already. Yeah, I'm tawlkin' to you...

remember

Went to tuck my biggest boy into bed last night and found this touching sight. It brought back lots of childhood memories - I remember sneaking a Nancy Drew and a flashlight under the covers and reading until I just couldn't keep my eyes open. I still love reading in bed, but now have no one to catch me doing it or tuck me in once I fall asleep. Those were the days...

7 weird things about me

So I was inspired by this blog to post seven weird things about me that you never knew. I am crazy, to be sure, but these are a few of my more tame idiosyncrasies (remember, weirdness is all relative):

1. When I load the dishwasher, I like to make sure there are the same number of knives, forks, and spoons in each little section of the silverware thingie. There's just something so linear, so pleasing to my inner OCD when I can wrap the silverware up in that neat little package of evenness.

2. I cannot stand the sight or smell of cooked oatmeal. When Josh puts his bowl in the sink after eating oatmeal, I have to close my eyes and quickly turn on the water to rinse it out. I don't know why, but mushy, cooked oatmeal just grosses me out beyond belief. Now, I have yet to meet an oatmeal cookie I didn't love, but that is another story.

3. I am secretly afraid of robots. What if all the movies are true and they will one day start thinking for themselves and take over the world? And in spite of this someone in this house still got Robo Raptor for Christmas.

4. I hate to pee. WAAAYY too much information, I know, but I just don't like to go. I will hold it for hours. Don't really have any rational explanation for it either.

5. I put cereal back in the cupboard when there's not any left in the box. Josh wants to kill me when he goes to get some cereal and it's empty, but ON THE SHELF. I'm working on this one.

6. When we're getting close to the end of a gallon of milk, I won't ever drink the last cup or so. I am convinced that the last remaining bits are rotten, and I NEVER drink it. Many times I have been caught pouring the last of the milk down the drain, but I just can't do it. It's BAD.

7. I go postal when I find that Josh has hung up his pants on a plastic hanger. Which is funny because it's not like I actually even iron his clothes for him. But I know he won't iron them, and will blissfully walk around all day with a crease in his thighs. Makes me CRAZY.

So tag, Annie, Marta, Oma, Anna (and anyone else)...you're it! What makes you so weird? Please share and make me look somewhat normal!

you light up my life

We had some fun with sparklers last night...check out these cool pics:

a day in my life...grocery shopping

I needed a few things at the grocery store this morning. Hannah and I head to the strip mall where our local grocery store is located. Now, I need to preface this story by saying that I loathe going to our grocery store. There are others, but I am forced out of necessity [read: laziness] to frequent this one because of its close proximity to our house. It is located in a strip mall that contains way too many stores crammed together, several banks, and more than a few restaurants. I am a HUGE fan of the strip mall in general, but this is like a major mall shoved into a grocery store space. Oh, and did I mention the movie theater that has also managed to squeeze itself into the already over-crowded area? There is never any place to park, and if you do get lucky enough to find a space, it takes about a 13-point turn to park my mid-sized SUV. I have several hundred dents in my car doors thanks to this spacious parking lot.

Yet we head in. Somewhere, some design genius, who has obviously never had children, thought it would be a brilliant idea to make mini-shopping carts for toddlers such as the one that shadows me. You know said genius did not have to battle a four-year-old child for steerage control just at the moment you pass the wine display, narrowly missing the precariously stacked tower of pino-something, that if broken would cost me a month's worth of groceries. I'm almost ready to crack one open and have a swig.

Once we've safely navigated ourselves to a safer aisle like, I don't know, cereal boxes and glass pickle jars, she immediately begins filling her little cart. I end up walking behind her for about three aisles putting items back that she is convinced we need. Things like pop tarts, gummy bears, princess coloring books, and extra-absorbent Depends (it has a pink wrapper with flowers - don't know what she thinks it is, but she wants it). When I do get the rare opportunity to add my own items to her cart, she will loudly exclaim things like, "Phew, good, NOW we have cocoa." Right, you've been waiting for cocoa for months, haven't you? Or my other favorite, the negotiation. Mom, we don't need eggs. Why do you want eggs? And I have to calmly explain to this CHILD why we need eggs and beg her permission to add them to the cart.

But my absolute favorite moment of the day comes when we are in the checkout line, waiting our turn. We put our groceries on the conveyor belt (all six items that took 45 minutes to get) and she goes to put her cart away. The customer in front of us is just collecting her receipt, but Hannah so ever delicately yells, "MOM, I CAN'T GO BECAUSE THIS LADY IS RIGHT IN MY WAY," just as she is about to ram the poor woman in her Achilles tendon. This, of course, draws the attention of everyone in the entire San Diego County. I am, once again, so proud to be a mother.

She is unfortunately rewarded with a plastic Hello Kitty ring by our favorite Hispanic bagger who makes her promise to "Listen to jour mudder for turdy-fie jears." With an angelic smile on her face, she promises.

I pray we don't run out of milk by tomorrow.

George!

Okay, if you watched last night's episode of Grey's Anatomy and did not bawl like a baby then you must have a cold, black heart and be the spawn of Satan. The O'Malley boys saying goodbye to their father was as heartbreaking as tv gets. It was as though you were there, in the room, saying goodbye. Makes you want to call your own father at midnight, wake him up, and tell him you love him.

If you did not watch, I don't know that we can be friends anymore. You may, however, redeem yourself by going to this site. Click on the "Grey's Anatomy Moment - 1/18" to see a clip from the show (suffer through the Queen Latifa commercial first - well worth the wait). If you really want to beg my forgiveness, you will watch the rerun of the entire episode tonight on ABC.

Best show on television EVER.

a list for "them"

Okay, as you have no doubt noticed, I am a big fan of the list. I LOVE lists. So my thoughts today come to you in list form.

10 things I should feel guilty about when it comes to my kids (but may or may not - I'll never tell) :

1. The sheer joy I feel dropping them off at school. God bless the public school system.

2. The fact that I won't let my kids have freedom of expression just yet. I'm sorry, but you are not going to grow out your hair. I don't care if all the other boys have long hair - it looks ridiculous to me and you will just have to deal with being out of style (at age eight, I might add!). Mom, you know what I'm talking about - that permed mullet and the baby blue eyeshadow caked on like frosting? Something should have been said.

3. Letting them watch t.v. (we must blog sometime)

4. Not pushing the healthy food as much as I should. That blasted McDevil-in-disguise is way too convenient and cheap.

5. Paying them to pose for pictures. They ought to do it cheerfully for free, right? That's what I keep telling them. They don't listen. There is power in the almighty dollar.

6. Telling them lies at daylight savings time to get either an extra hour of sleep or be able to put them to bed an hour early. Not working so well now that some of them can tell time. I've had to resort to sneaking around the house and changing all the clocks when they're not looking. I am so going to hell.

7. Not letting them pick out their own clothes. One day they'll thank me for this, I am sure of it. Except for Hannah, who I battle daily, and would happily leave the house looking like a gussied-up gypsy hooker.

8. Calling "leave-mom-alone-if-you-want-to-live time" the much more pleasant sounding, "nap play time." (Derived from the days when we took naps...that turned into play time...and has now been formally adopted as nap play time).

9. Skipping stake conference and telling the them the reason we're home on Sunday is because of general conference (they must seriously think we have this like five times a year).

10. Actually hearing myself say the words, "You are not getting any more carrots until you finish that hot dog!" Wrong on so many levels.

So there you have it. And now you will not be surprised when child welfare shows up on our doorstep. What things do you/should you feel guilty about as a parent? Do tell...

[Edited to add: At least I don't have to feel guilty for playing solitaire during pack meeting...ah hem!]

Busted

Here is what I caught Josh doing tonight at pack meeting. My attention, of course, was riveted on our brilliant cub scout and his excellent, thought-provoking skit. Highlight of the evening: Doing the watermelon cheer.

Because we all need a good laugh

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2f8TMLbxok

Overheard

"Hey Chase, we don't have school tomorrow."

"We don't? Why?"

"Because of Mr. King, you know."

"Who's Mr. King?"

"He's this guy in the olden days who said black and white people should sit together on the bus and drink from the same drinking fountain."

"Oh. Am I black?"

"No, you're white."

"No, I'm not white; I'm really, really tan."

"Well, that's not black."

[Disappointed] "Oh."

Happy Mr. King Day to all of you out there!

stranger than fiction

So I had contact with a few random strangers yesterday. The first was two phone messages left for me by "Uncle Bill **" as he called himself. He was calling me, the daughter of Ola **, because his nephew, Rob **, told him he should. He's here in Cali on vacation for a whole month and would really, really love to get together.

After grilling my husband on whether or not there was an Uncle Bill, an Aunt Ola, and a Nephew Rob (which if there was, he wouldn't know it anyway), I called Uncle Bill back with the bad news. He was a sweet, little old man and seemed very disappointed that I was not his long-lost relative. He wouldn't let me off the hook that easily though - he's a genealogy buff and wanted to know the entirety of my husband's parentage. I gave him a quick tour of THAT side of the family (sadly, none of the three names I know were familiar to him). He then wanted to know which part of Scandinavia we **'s hailed from. When I told him where our heritage lies, his disappointment furthered, and he told me the neighboring country in which his relatives hailed. I'm sorry, Uncle Bill, really I am. I wish my ancestors had come from the same place as yours. We'd have so much more to talk about if they did.

I tried to cheer him up with the thought that somewhere we **'s are all related, but I don't think it worked. I think he was looking for someone to hang out with on his vacation here in Cali. I just hope he wasn't looking for a place to stay.

Second random stranger interaction came yesterday in letter form through the mail. I opened a plain-white envelope (hoping not to find anthrax) and in it were two items - my driver's license and the business card of one Brian N. I had lost my license about three weeks ago, and have no idea where I left it. I, of course, unfairly blamed Josh, but that is another story. In true random-stranger-kindness, he chose to mail it back to me instead of posting it on his dartboard for target practice or trying to get his under-aged girlfriend into clubs. I love him for being such a good person. I am now anxiously awaiting his return phone call so I can find out exactly where on god's green earth I lost the stupid thing.

Too bad I already spent three hours at the DMV getting a new license.

P.S. For those of you still in kindergarten, **'s is my last name in code form. Lest one of my many fans turn stalker and come find me. Shouldn't be too hard considering that I leave my license behind.

To the love of my life (may he forgive me for this post)

Top ten reasons why I love you (and in no particular order):

1. You are such a hard worker. I love the drive and the ambition that are almost second nature to you. You inspire me to stop spending hours searching blogs and do something productive with my time.

2. You are so good lookin'! (If only you'd stop hitting on women in my dreams!)

3. You are an amazing father. It truly touches my soul to see how into our kids you are. These crazy little people we share a house with. The ones with the runny noses and the stinky bums. The ones who never stop talking and wake up at the crack of dawn. These ones you love with all you've got.

4. You would do anything for me. I know this because I've asked you to do some pretty crazy things lately, and you always say yes. You come through when I'm in a pinch without a second thought. That speaks volumes.

5. Your integrity. You are incapable of being untrue to yourself, and that is a rare quality, my friend.

6. Your spontaneity. I love that we have picked up and moved clear across the country (several times). I love that you will find a cool day trip, and within 30 minutes we're in the car on our way there. It balances out the OCD in me that loves to plan, plan, plan!

7. Your generosity. I think if you had the world, you'd find a way to give us the moon, too. You want nothing for yourself (again, the opposite of me!) and I love that about you.

8. Your sense of humor. You must have a good one - you married me, right?

9. Your belief in me. You have showed me that one person can make a difference. You have taught me to believe in myself, and to trust my own instincts.

10. Your support. You are the guy who says, "Hey, why not call your girlfriends and go see a movie tonight?" You are the guy who says, "You want to go away for the weekend to NY? Sure, I'll watch the kids." There are very few guys willing to say those things - and mean them. You would do ANYTHING if it brought a measure of happiness to me. You are my best friend. You make my life mean something. I love you. Just thought I should say it out loud.

P.S. If you actually read this post word-for-word, I will give you a big prize. And no, it will not be that threesome with Angelina Jolie you've been vying for...

P.S.S. I take no offense that you "skim" through my blog. I know you love me anyway! Plus, there are probably thousands of fans who read it daily...

Meet McKenzie

We have a new pet. It snuck up on us and grew over the Christmas holidays. The last day before vacation, Hannah brought home a dirt-filled sock from preschool. Its two googily eyes stared back at me and just begged to be thrown in the trash. But the promise from the preschool teachers that hair would appear on our "sock buddy" was enough for Hannah to save its life from the clutches of the trash man. She named it, faithfully watered it, and put it in windows where sunshine was plenty. Sure enough, our little McKenzie has hair. She lost one of her eyes and her nose in the growing process, but peeks out at you through her unruly mane with one good eye. Josh has even begun giving her haircuts - which is just an extra treat for me because he leaves the trimmings scattered all around her each time. It's like a little present that I get to clean up. I love those kind of presents. Please, give me more.

All in all, she's a pretty good pet. She doesn't smell, there's no cage cleaning to be done, and I don't have to give her any attention. Aside from her hair clippings, she is hassle-free. If only I could convince Chase that this is the pet for him. He turns eight this year - and has unfortunately not forgotten the hastily-made promise of three years ago in which he gets a pet on his eighth birthday. I totally expected him to forget or be into something else by the time he turned eight. He's not. And I am so not looking forward to September.

ooey-gooey-hannah-goodness

Last night I was getting ready for bed. Josh is out of town at a conference, so I was left alone to lock up for the night. I went to make sure my kids were covered with blankets, kiss them, and peek at their innocent-baby goodness that only comes out when they are sleeping. Hannah stirred a little bit, saw me, and reached her arms out for me. I bent down to give her a love, and she just squeezed with all her Hannah squishiness. The soft baby smell (that also somehow is only around when they're asleep - awake, they smell like the big people they are becoming - ew!), and the clearly-loved way she squeezed my neck - it melted my heart. She then looks up at me in all her innocence, eyelashes fluttering, and says, "Can I sleep wiff you?"

Who am I to deny her a cozy spot in my bed when she is so obviously precious? So I cuddled her up and we tiptoed past the boys' room (lest this sleepover become public knowledge) and headed into my room.

The only problem that arose was when I turned on the TV (my new habit/addiction - falling asleep to the TV. I like to set the timer, find something to barely watch, and drift off. I figure it's kind of like my own grown-up version of a nightlight). Hannah immediately props her pillow up with a little too much eagerness, clearly now wide awake, and says, "What're we watchin'?" Mind you, it is now about 11:30 p.m., and that early morning routine is looming in the back of my mind. But, being the diligent, careful parent that I am, I said, "Grey's Anatomy," (re-runs have begun on Lifetime, Dr. McDreamy every night...yum!)

She watched pretty intently for a few minutes before the commentary began. "Who is that girl?" "Is she going to have a baby?" "Why is she kissing that doctor?" "Why is that lady so angry?" "Did she have a baby at the hospital?" "Did you have your babies at the hospital?" And then the one question that parents everywhere dread and feign deafness to avoid..."WHERE DO BABIES COME FROM?"

That's it, lights out. Gotta get some sleep. Goodnight, Hannah. Nope, TV's going off. We've got to get our rest. What's that you say? Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you because I'm almost asleep. No, we'll talk about it in the morning.

Next time I'll be strong. No, I won't answer that question with all the vigor and educational parenting I can muster. Next time I'll make her stay in her own bed. That way I can greedily watch TV all by myself without having to face life's questions from a four-year-old at 11:30 p.m., when every child in the world should be sleeping - and every Mama dreaming of Dr. McDreamy.

karma

Let me just tell you a little bit about my luck. If I go on vacation somewhere that's supposed to be, I don't know, say WARM, it will be unseasonably cold. And not just cold, but record snow falls and freezing rain. If the town in which I live is anxiously awaiting spring after a long, hard winter - you can count on two feet of rain to fall in 24 hours (check the books - this happened last spring), and about another month of rain after that. I was forced to listen to my husband describe pristine blue skies and 74 degree temperatures in April while he was out here in Cali and we were still in Boston. You wanna know what April looked like last year in Boston?

That is what I woke up to on the morning of April 5th. Nice, huh? Now you see why I've become such angry, angry woman. Nobody wants to see that in April, for crying out loud.

So now that I'm in Cali, soaking up the non-snow, what does the weather look like on the east coast? Oh, how about sunny, unseasonably, unbelievably warm. Today it was 60 degrees here. Not too bad for a January day, I'd say. It was 70 freakin' degrees in Boston today. Now that I'm not there, in January, they are warmer in Boston than in California.

I wanted to be the envy of everyone who lives anywhere but here. I wanted people to think of me this winter and go, "Oh, wow, I wish I was her." Why did I want to be thought of by friends shoveling snow and wearing coats? BECAUSE I DESERVE IT! I have lived in some of the most extreme climates known to man. I deserve to have the best winter of my life. I deserve to be warm - outside. I've put in my time. It's MY turn. I've shoveled three feet of snow by myself when my husband was out of town. I have bundled up three tiny kids and fought icy roads to get where we needed to be. I have made (and cleaned up) countless sticky, messy cups of hot chocolate when the kids vainly attempted to battle wind chills and snow drifts in the back yard, only to come pouring in after ten minutes, frozen and crying. Me. I did that.

I seriously dislike most of you right about now. No hard feelings though, huh? Just remember when I didn't call you from the beach in November to brag ... oh, wait, I might have.

Guess we're even. Maybe I ought to work on my good karma...

like the flip of a switch

Here is Hannah at the park yesterday. Ain't she pretty?

Here is Hannah at the park, about ten minutes later, unable to understand why her brothers do not want to play football and house at the same time. Everyone knows football and house go together...what's wrong with these brothers? Oh, the travesty of it all...

Here is Hannah at the park. She gave up on football/house and decided to play alone. Mind you, there is about 12 minutes difference between the first picture and the last...girls!

And here are the boys, completely unaware that they have ruined their sister's life. Thank goodness she forgave them...

guilty pleasures

Okay, we all have them. Some we can put out there, others are locked away deep inside for only our enjoyment. I'm coming clean - here are a few guilty pleasures that I enjoy (but won't readily admit - until now):

1. Dog the Bounty Hunter (yes, the Hawaii-based reality show, bad-guy-gettin', white trash, chain-smoking Dog). I can't get enough. It drives Josh crazy, but I just love this show.

2. Kelly Clarkson. I admit this one shamelessly. There are not many songs that touch my soul the same way as her live version of "Beautiful Disaster." Download it today; you won't be sorry. I'm very anti-American Idol (with the brilliant exception of Clay Aiken, but that's another story), and yet I find myself mesmerized by the vocal talents of Miss Kelly. She rocks, no denyin' it.

3. Diet Coke. Okay, this one is hardly a secret; and hardly guilt-inducing, but it ranks up there on my daily must-have list, so I'm including it here.

4. Musicals. I love them; in fact, I have yet to meet I musical I didn't love. My friend Jackie once told me I was like a gay man when it came to my love of Broadway. I took that as quite the compliment. From the opening note to the closing of the curtain - I become mesmerized, lost, captured. I love it and will always pay good money for what it does to me. My favorite of late is Wicked...and has been for quite some time now.

5. MTV. I know, I know. It's shameful...I'm well past the age where this is acceptable. I can't help it, I love it. Ironic, though, is the fact that what I do enjoy about MTV is not the music videos - no, mine is an affection for all the rest. The Real World. True Life. The Osborne's et al. That's where my viewing love affair takes place, the un-music of MTV.

6. Chocolate. This one needs no justification; I will offer none. It is what it is. We all must have that naughty little cacao seed. You know what I'm talkin' about. My favorite forms of this tempting vice are Kit-Kats and the Reeses Peanut Butter Trees, Hearts, and Pumpkins. Do not be confused with the regular Reeses Peanut Butter Cups - true perfection is found in the ratio of chocolate to peanut butter found only in the special edition holiday treats. Lucky for me, the devils at Hershey seem to have found a way to make them into all holiday shapes - thus making them available to me almost year-round. Shoot, there goes my number one new year's resolution...

7. Bad Magazines. There is something so great about holding the latest edition of In Touch or OK! Magazine - just waiting to share with you the smutty gossip of celebrities and psuedo-celebrities alike. I feel like a fly on the wall at a great party I was never invited to. So, so fun.

8. Manicures and Pedicures. I adore having my hands and toes done. Something about sitting in that big, leather chair, feet soaking in hot, sudsy water - all the while my hands are getting massaged and babied. Makes me feel like I'm a princess getting all pampered and primped for the ball. So what if my "ball" is waiting on a stone-cold bench while my boys fence their hearts out, taking my turn on the preschool field trips, or that blessed of all events - pack meeting. I'm a princess and I deserve it!

The ultimate for me would be getting a mani/pedi, sipping a diet coke and munching on a Reese's PB tree. In my free hand is the latest edition of a gossip magazine that features an article on the Dog. I've got Kelly Clarkson or Wicked blasting through the headphones of my I-Pod, and I'm watching The Real World on the t.v. in the corner. All my loves in once place... aaaugghhhh (ala Homer J., another pleasure I haven't owned up to yet.)

Now it's your turn...what are your guilty pleasures? Do share...

I resolve...

In keeping with tradition, here is my annual resolution list,

(and not in any particular order):

I will stop eating bad (okay, not all together, but at least some of the time).
I will exercise six days a week.
I will be excited about my church calling (or at least try and be a little bit more positive).
I will go on a great trip.
I will go to New York City (my fav!) and see a show, shop, and eat.
I will wear lots of sunscreen at the beach.
I will make homework more fun for my kids.
I will take a photography class and actually learn how to use my new camera.

I will get organized and manage this household like the OCD-nerd that I am.

I will take lots of time for me (brought to me courtesy of Hannah starting the big "K" this year!)

I will go to a movie all by myself.

I will once and for all go through my socks and throw out the ones with holes.

I will buy a pair of wild and sexy shoes.

I will find someplace fabulous to wear said shoes.

I will be kind to strangers.

I will somehow learn to be more patient.

I will laugh, love, cry, hope, wish, curse, celebrate, pout, and smile - but I will have no regrets.

Eco-Challenge, a success!

My boys did it - the First Annual Eco-Challenge has been completed, and just in the nick of time. They went the morning of December 31, 2006 and hiked their way to the top of Iron Mountain. Although this challenge was supposed to have happened several other times during 2006, weather and other factors got in the way. I'm so proud that they finally did it.

Josh and his crew are already in the throws of planning the Eco for '07. Looks to be the Grand Canyon at this point. You go, boys. Can't wait to hear all about it!

a simple life

So we've just finished probably our lowest-key holiday ever. I got sick right before Christmas and it pretty much put us out of commission. I feel like I'm only now just coming out of it. But it leads me to ask...what did we miss?

We spent the last two weeks home as a family. The kids played together. There were card games, checkers, movies, and video-game tournaments. There was pizza and soup. There were M&Ms and leftover cookies. We didn't have a fancy Christmas feast. We didn't go out to dinner on New Year's Eve. And I'm somewhat surprised to say that I didn't miss it. It was nice to not feel pressure to get out more. I enjoyed just cozying up in my pj's with a magazine and watching my kids play.

Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy going out - it's actually one of my favorite things. I think when Josh traveled so much, it was for my mental sanity that we got out as much as we did. We used to spend a fortune on babysitters when he traveled all the time, going out at least once a weekend. Now that he's home more, I don't feel that need. It's ironic, isn't it? Now that we're always home, that's where we want to stay. There's something to be said for just hanging around, taking it slow, and not rushing around all the time. A simple life is a good thing. I know that soon enough there will be fencing classes, school, homework, cubscouts, preschool, and baseball dragging us around. I am really liking having these few weeks to ourselves. I am liking that we're not expected anywhere. Simplicity - maybe that should be our new year's resolution. Bring a little bit of this week into all year...