She gave us her birthday list months ago. She had 3 specific things that she wanted for her birthday:
1) An Apple White doll
2) A Raven Queen doll
3) A Pink Ukulele she saw at the local music store, with a dolphin-shaped bridge.
I knew that those dolls were at Target. I'd seen them there multiple times. It's a popular show, and a series of books, of course they were there! The ukulele seemed to be a bit of a stretch for a 6 year old, though. It's really nice, and rather expensive to be giving to such a young girl. Therefore, we decided to stick with the dolls. I had it all planned out. To avoid the hassle of having to go and figure out the mess myself, I went online, to Target.com and tried to purchase the dolls there. They claimed to have both of them in stock at our local store, but one of them had to be purchased on site, and was therefore unavailable online. It was annoying, but I figured: "Okay well, I'll just purchase two of this one that I can get online, and then when I get there, I'll swap one of them out for the one I want there on site."
I get the chiddlers dropped off at school, and immediately head to Target to pick up our online order. When I get there, the girl hands me two of...the wrong doll! They didn't even HAVE the one I thought I was purchasing online, or the one that they supposedly had in stock there at the store! I asked the girl what was going on, and she said: "Oh, well since these dolls are all on sale right now, we have them all (no matter WHICH character they are) under the same scanning code."
I felt my inner ogre raising its ugly head as I said: "So basically, ordering these online is pointless, because they're all under the same number and there's no way of knowing what I'm actually buying." She at least had the decency to look sheepish as she said: "Yes. That's about right." Then she said: "You can go back there and see if you can find what you're looking for." I almost told her to shove it, but then I figured it couldn't really hurt to go and look around for myself, just in case. So I found the right aisle, and spent a good ten minutes pawing through all of these dolls - twice - only to find that the ones I was looking for were not to be found anywhere on those shelves.
Conceding defeat, I went back to the Customer Service desk, and reported that my search had been unsuccessful. The girl behind the counter said: "I can give you the phone numbers of some other stores that have the same deal going on. You could call and have them look to make sure they have it before you go there. I'm really sorry about this." I was annoyed by the situation, but I realized that it wasn't this girl's fault. So I didn't get in her face, or even let loose any of my frustration. Her plan sounded somewhat sensible, so I took the phone numbers and the unwanted dolls that I'd paid for - planning to switch them out for the ones I wanted once I'd found them - and left.
As I headed north, to the next Target store within range, I called the first one on my list. The one that was about a 45 minute drive from where I was to see if they had the dolls I wanted. I talked to a girl from the toy department, and she put me on hold for several minutes while she went and looked for the dolls. She came back and said: "Okay, I have the Raven Queen doll, but I don't have the Apple White." And I said, (knowing that the series had a few variations of these characters, based on some different episodes from the show, where they're all dressed up differently than usual), "Is it the normal one, the original?" She said, "Yes, it is. Do you want me to hold it for you?" Feeling immensely relieved that I'd at least succeeded in finding one of these things, I said: "Yes! I'll be there in a little while." Then I gave her my name, and hung up, feeling more hopeful.
On my way there, I decided to visit the Target store that I would have to pass by in order to get to the Target store that was supposed to be holding this doll for me. It wasn't on the list that the girl from the first Target gave me, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try, since it was on my way anyways, right? I went, I searched the shelves more than once, and I failed to find what I was looking for. I found one Apple White doll that was somewhat close to what I wanted, but she was dressed in a swimming suit, and I knew it just wasn't quite what my daughter wanted. I figured it might work as a Plan B, so I bought it. I looked at the time, and realized that there was little chance of my being able to get to this next store that was holding the Raven Queen doll and get back in time to pick up my daughter from school. Sigh.
I called my mom, and she kindly agreed to pick AJ up from school for me so I could have some extra time to figure out this ridiculous situation in which I had landed myself. So I got onto the freeway, again, and headed to the store that was my one ray of hope. I pull into the parking lot, grab the two unwanted dolls that I had been schlepping around all morning, and hurry inside, telling the lady at the Customer Service counter that I have something on hold, and then I gave her my name. She went into the back room, or whatever it is, and came back carrying...the wrong doll. Oh, it was a Raven Queen, but it looked nothing like her, because she was dressed in some weird outfit that made her look like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, or something. I couldn't keep the irritation and near despair out of my voice as I said, "That...is the wrong...doll." The lady apologized, and said: "You can go back there and see if you can find what you're looking for." I spun around and walked back to the toy section without a word, but inside my mind I was saying: "Oh really? Can I? Thank you ever so much!"
Soooooo, I went back to their toy aisle, again. I pawed and dug through these dolls and found nothing but the rejected characters that no one wants to buy at all. Again. By then, I just wanted to get a refund on the unwanted dolls and go home, mentally screaming every curse and swear word I could possibly think of. I went back to the counter, reported that I had been unsuccessful in my search, and asked to just return the unwanted dolls. The lady looked up the online order number and said: "Oh, I can't do a return on these until at least 24 hours after the order was picked up." Of course. Why the hell not? I take the unwanted dolls, and head out the door. Again.
As I drive through the parking lot, a little voice in my head says: "There's a Wal Mart just across the street here, you're already in Hell right now, you may as well go check there." I figured, "Sure. Why not?" So, I broke my almost 10 year long Wal Mart embargo, and went to see what they had there. Same crap, different store. So I started on the drive home, and began the verbal rant that I think we all knew would be coming. "What the actual hell are you doing?!? You now have 3 dolls that you don't even want, and you can't return them until tomorrow. None of these stores have what you want, and you can't even order them online, because they'll just send you the wrong damn thing anyway! She gave you her birthday wish list months - MONTHS in advance, and you didn't do anything about it until a WEEK before her birthday?!? What, exactly, is WRONG with you?!?" I went on like that for pretty much the entire 45 minute trip home.
As I started down Main Street, I saw the music store that had the ukulele and decided to stop and ask for the price. I pulled the thing down off the wall, and asked the guy for the price. It was a really nice instrument, clearly aimed at an older musician - at least 12 years old. The guy told me that the price was $60. Not terrible, but I just couldn't justify spending that kind of coin on something that would more than likely get banged against a wall by an overexcited 6-year-old girl. So I went to my mom's house, where I found AJ, being fed lunch by my mom. Mom then offered me some lunch, and, being too tired and frustrated at this point to do anything else, I accepted. I then began to tell her about my day, and when I'd finished, I felt better. It was after I'd eaten my lunch that I realized what I should have done in the first place: Go to eBay. I found the dolls on eBay, and purchased them for only slightly more money than I would have spent at Target. As I bought them both from the same seller, I got a combined shipping rate, and an estimated delivery date the day before my daughter's birthday.
Sadly, when I told Ty about this, he reminded me that it was a holiday week, and the shipping was unlikely to be that fast. Ugh. Are you FREAKING kidding me?!? I really should have thought of that. Oh well. We figured out some Plan B gifts for her birthday, and decided to make the dolls a Christmas gift if they didn't get here in time. Luckily for us, after ordering them on a Friday, they arrived on the following Monday, in plenty of time for AJ's birthday.
Today, AJ was showered with gifts by Ty's Aunt Jitter, who lives in Chicago and LOVES to spoil the crap out of our kids. I mean, she got books, and necklaces, and an entire fairy dress up outfit. I was sitting there, thinking "She's barely going to look twice at those dolls." But we left them until the end anyway.
When AJ started taking the paper off the Raven Queen doll, and got that first peek and saw what it was, she let out this huge gasp of excitement: "It's...it's Raven Queen!!!" She feverishly ripped off the rest of the paper, and started squealing happily. Then she literally jumped up and down, "It's Raven Queen! I can't believe it! It's Raven Queen!!!" Then she opened the Apple White doll, and could not have been more ecstatic. Everything else she'd gotten that day was forgotten. She ran up to Ty and asked him, "Daddy, could you please open these for me?" And then Ty said, "Make sure you give your Mom a big hug. She hunted high and low for those dolls, and finally ordered them online."
The hug and the "Thank you SO MUCH Mommy!!!" that she gave me, along with her pure joy and excitement was all I needed. Everything I had done to get that hug was worth it. And I swear to you, I'd do it again, in a heartbeat.
That, my friends, is motherhood. You sacrifice, you push yourself, you do everything you can for your kids. And no matter how hard it is, no matter what it takes, if you can make your kids happy, it's always, always worth it.
Saturday, November 28, 2015
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
A Small Change, and a Huge Accomplishment...
It happened like a tidal wave, crashing over me while I was getting my yearly Health Assessment from our insurance company. I mean, I knew that my clothes had been getting pretty tight over the past year or so...Okay so I could barely wear my own jeans without discomfort, and all of my t-shirts were cutting into my arms...But it couldn't be THAT bad, could it? And then I looked down at the number on the scale and my heart sank down to my stomach. I was tipping the scale at nearly 20 pounds more than I was expecting! How did that even happen?!?
It was a huge wake up call for me, and I resolved right then and there (this was the end of January, by the way, so it doesn't technically count as a "New Years Resolution"): I was going to be making some changes.
Trust me, I had tried many times over the years to "make some changes" in my health practices. You know, the routine: "I'm going to stop eating sugar, and exercise every day, no more excuses for me!" I had failed every single time, my resolve usually dissolving within a few weeks (if I even started in the first place). This time, I decided to do something different.
Yes, I was going to exercise. And yes I was going to make some changes in my diet. But I was going to add one vital element to my program: Forgiveness.
All through my past attempts, I'd been riddled with self-doubt and even self-loathing. Every time I missed a workout because of a scheduling conflict, or given in to my craving for that irresistible (for me, at least) chocolate chip cookie. Every time I'd slip in my resolve, I'd berate myself and do everything I could to try and shame myself into changing my habits. And I failed. Over, and over, and over again.
So there I was, a few months away from my 33rd Birthday, and I was feeling pretty down on myself. "How could I let myself slip this far?" But then I had a moment of clarity: "Start tomorrow." So I did. I started exercising. I cut out a lot of my snacking throughout the day, and I started drinking more water.
But this time...this time it's just...different.
I allow myself to have treats, just not as many. I still have days when my workouts aren't going to happen, because I'm a college student with two kids and stuff just comes up. But it's okay. I am letting myself off the hook. No more, "Oh! I missed my workout today, so I guess I can't do it tomorrow, either!" No more: "Ugh! I can't believe I had that second cookie! This means extra workout time tomorrow! I'm so disgusting!"
My mindset has shifted, and it's made all the difference. More than once in the past, when I had started to get into a good workout program, all it took was one tiny little disturbance in my routine and everything would fall apart.
Once school started for Fall semester this year, I had to change my workouts from 5 to 6 days a week, to 3 to 4 days a week. Did I have my concerns about whether or not I could stick to the routine? Of course I did! I wondered if such a big change might throw a huge monkey wrench into everything I'd been working so hard for all year. But then I said to myself: "Hey! Three days is better than none, and if you can get that fourth day in there, that's even better!"
And guess what? It's all okay. I'm still doing it. I'm changing my habits, and I'm treating my body a lot better than I've ever treated it before.
Since January, I've lost about 20 pounds (give or take, I don't actually own a scale, so I'm going off what I get from other people's scales intermittently), and with strength training I've got more muscle tone than I've had...well...ever. I have biceps, for crying out loud! I've never had biceps I could SEE before! I've lost about 6 inches off my waist, and all of my clothes are loose on me now. I love the way that feels!
Even more than the weight loss, (which is a big deal for me), I no longer have that huge "need" for sugar that I used to have. I still indulge my sweet tooth, but I can only handle about half of what I used to take in. Drinking more water is really helpful, and I can always tell when I'm having a "dry" day where I haven't been as vigilant as I normally am.
All of this, because of Forgiveness. I gave myself permission to be imperfect. It's okay that I miss a workout every now and then. It's okay that I ate that cookie. It's all okay, because I'm not doing this to match up to anyone's expectations but my own. I'm not doing this to look perfect. I'm doing this because I'm worth it, and I don't care how much that sounds like a tampon commercial.
I'm worth the work, I'm worth the effort, and it feels great!
It was a huge wake up call for me, and I resolved right then and there (this was the end of January, by the way, so it doesn't technically count as a "New Years Resolution"): I was going to be making some changes.
Trust me, I had tried many times over the years to "make some changes" in my health practices. You know, the routine: "I'm going to stop eating sugar, and exercise every day, no more excuses for me!" I had failed every single time, my resolve usually dissolving within a few weeks (if I even started in the first place). This time, I decided to do something different.
Yes, I was going to exercise. And yes I was going to make some changes in my diet. But I was going to add one vital element to my program: Forgiveness.
All through my past attempts, I'd been riddled with self-doubt and even self-loathing. Every time I missed a workout because of a scheduling conflict, or given in to my craving for that irresistible (for me, at least) chocolate chip cookie. Every time I'd slip in my resolve, I'd berate myself and do everything I could to try and shame myself into changing my habits. And I failed. Over, and over, and over again.
So there I was, a few months away from my 33rd Birthday, and I was feeling pretty down on myself. "How could I let myself slip this far?" But then I had a moment of clarity: "Start tomorrow." So I did. I started exercising. I cut out a lot of my snacking throughout the day, and I started drinking more water.
But this time...this time it's just...different.
I allow myself to have treats, just not as many. I still have days when my workouts aren't going to happen, because I'm a college student with two kids and stuff just comes up. But it's okay. I am letting myself off the hook. No more, "Oh! I missed my workout today, so I guess I can't do it tomorrow, either!" No more: "Ugh! I can't believe I had that second cookie! This means extra workout time tomorrow! I'm so disgusting!"
My mindset has shifted, and it's made all the difference. More than once in the past, when I had started to get into a good workout program, all it took was one tiny little disturbance in my routine and everything would fall apart.
Once school started for Fall semester this year, I had to change my workouts from 5 to 6 days a week, to 3 to 4 days a week. Did I have my concerns about whether or not I could stick to the routine? Of course I did! I wondered if such a big change might throw a huge monkey wrench into everything I'd been working so hard for all year. But then I said to myself: "Hey! Three days is better than none, and if you can get that fourth day in there, that's even better!"
And guess what? It's all okay. I'm still doing it. I'm changing my habits, and I'm treating my body a lot better than I've ever treated it before.
Since January, I've lost about 20 pounds (give or take, I don't actually own a scale, so I'm going off what I get from other people's scales intermittently), and with strength training I've got more muscle tone than I've had...well...ever. I have biceps, for crying out loud! I've never had biceps I could SEE before! I've lost about 6 inches off my waist, and all of my clothes are loose on me now. I love the way that feels!
Even more than the weight loss, (which is a big deal for me), I no longer have that huge "need" for sugar that I used to have. I still indulge my sweet tooth, but I can only handle about half of what I used to take in. Drinking more water is really helpful, and I can always tell when I'm having a "dry" day where I haven't been as vigilant as I normally am.
All of this, because of Forgiveness. I gave myself permission to be imperfect. It's okay that I miss a workout every now and then. It's okay that I ate that cookie. It's all okay, because I'm not doing this to match up to anyone's expectations but my own. I'm not doing this to look perfect. I'm doing this because I'm worth it, and I don't care how much that sounds like a tampon commercial.
I'm worth the work, I'm worth the effort, and it feels great!
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Hey! I'm Back! With a List...
My birthday happened a couple of months ago. I'm 33 years old, and I really am having a hard time believing it. I mean seriously: WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?!? It's crazy! I can now see why so many people have a hard time with entering the realm of middle-aged-ness. It's a real shock to go from feeling like a teenager or even a 20-something kid, and suddenly have the calendar staring you in the face, flipping you the bird and laughing: "Ha! Guess what! Now blow out your candles before the cake goes up in flames!"
I'm not saying that I feel particularly old. I'm not saying that I have any regrets for how I think I should have been spending the last 33 years. I have a great life, and I'm happy with where I am. It's just going by so FAST! Geez! It's crazy!
Okay, rant over for now. Anyway, in order to celebrate my 33rd Birthday, and my 5-year Blogiversary, (which actually happened on June 2nd), I've decided to reveal 11 things about myself that I'm pretty sure I've never revealed here before (although I could be wrong).
Why 11, you ask? Because 33 = 3 + 3 = 6, plus 5 = 11. Get it? Good. Moving on...
11) Although I might seem pretty open and even outgoing here in the blogosphere, I am painfully timid socially. Perhaps I have said this before, but here's an example of how painful this timidity can be: Even when it comes to people with whom I have a good, friendly relationship, I very rarely approach them in public social situations. I will hang back, sitting or standing alone, until I am approached by someone. Apparently my fear of rejection is so great, I'd rather sit in silence and be alone than put myself out there and be rebuffed. I don't know if that makes me overly cautious, or a total complete chicken. (If you're sitting there thinking there is no difference between those two phrases, you are WRONG!) Either way, that's who I am. I am extremely careful about who I "let in" to my inner circle. I think maybe 4 people have ever reached that point with me in my entire lifetime. Oh sure, people get pretty close, but there are very, VERY few people whom I feel I can trust implicitly.
10) I LOVE watching "Phineas and Ferb." It's one of the best kid shows ever made. It's hilarious and clever, and I just really enjoy watching it. Oh sure, it's made for kids, but we all know those writers were keeping the parents in mind when they put the show together. Absolutely brilliant!
9) I will never stop loving old musical movies. "Singin' in the Rain" with Gene Kelley? Yes please! "The Court Jester" with Danny Kaye? Sign me up! "Hello Dolly" with Walter Matthau, Barbara Streisand, and Michael Crawford? Excuse me while I get some popcorn! I was raised watching these classics with my family, and we will always be grateful that we had parents who loved us enough to expose us to these fun movies as children.
8) I HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE being scared, startled, or creeped out in any way. I DO NOT watch horror movies. I REFUSE to go to Haunted Houses, Corn Mazes, or anything else that involves chainsaw-waving lunatics in masks. It's not just for my sake that I avoid these things, trust me! My little sister is still traumatized by the instance in which she came haplessly around a corner just as I was attempting to turn that same corner in the opposite direction. She startled me so much I screamed and slapped her on the arm so hard she had a hand print there all day. I realize of course that she did not intend to frighten me, but my "fight or flight" response was awakened that day, and apparently I chose to fight. Sorry, Sis!
7) Speaking of my family, I shared a room until I was 15 years old. I shared with my older sister for a while, but then when she got old enough, my parents moved her into her own room, and I shared with my younger sister for a LONG time (yes, the same younger sister that got slapped for being in the wrong place at the wrong time). We drove each other CRAZY. Everyone who knew Minnie was always talking about how cute she was, how funny and sweet. I always rolled my eyes, because only I knew the TRUTH. Once we stopped having to share a room, however, and I was finally installed in my own bedroom in the basement, I suddenly started to realize that those people had been right. Minnie is the life and soul of any room that she happens to be in. I love her to pieces, now.
6) When I was in Junior High and High School, and I happened to be seated next to a particular type of person, those people pretty much ALWAYS decided that I was their new favorite person. They would open up to me, talk to me, and wave at me in the halls. What type of people were they? Stoners, troublemakers, anxiety/depression sufferers and overall rebels. Not kidding. Every day those stoner kids would show up to class, smelling like weed and they would just talk to me like we had known each other all our lives. One of them was a girl who was absolutely convinced that my name was "Kansas." I never corrected her. I figured she was close enough. A guy in my math class showed me his self harm scars and talked to me about how much he hated his abusive dad. A girl in my Sophomore choir class told me she was pregnant, and talked to me freely about her problems.
The more I consider these people, the more I think that the reason they liked me and opened up to me was the fact that I didn't judge them. I listened, and I talked to them and never raised an eyebrow no matter what they told me about themselves. I never considered myself to be any better than they were. I know how flawed I am. Who am I to judge others just because their flaws are different from mine? I have a lot of weaknesses, make no mistake. But I do have one strength: I'm accepting. You can come to me with just about any kind of baggage, and I won't hold it against you. Have a cookie.
5) Housework is...not my forte. I hate doing it, because I see very little point in doing something that will only be UN-done within five minutes of my finishing it. But I give in, because no matter how much I hate doing housework, I hate living in filth even more.
4) It may seem like a pretty lame fact about me, but my hair is currently longer than it's been since I was 12 years old. It's somewhere around my shoulder blades, and I have no intention of chopping it off any time soon. It used to be that once Springtime rolled around, off I would trot to the hairdressers to get whatever Wintertime mange I'd managed to grow completely chopped--usually into a shaggy pixie cut. Even when I was growing out my hair, I never let it grow past my shoulders. But about 18 months ago, I decided that I would not let myself cut my hair off until I'd finished my Bachelors Degree. Once I graduate, that option is once again open to me. And I might even walk away from that stylist's chair with purple streaks. Why? Because purple is my favorite color, and because I can. We'll see how bold I feel that day, but to be perfectly honest, I'll probably chicken out.
3) I never paint my fingernails, because I have ridiculously stubby fingers. Painting the nails only enhances the stubbiness. Not to mention the fact that I always keep my nails super short, so painting them is pretty pointless. I do this for several reasons: a) If I let them get too long, I start biting them and they end up super short anyway. b) They break/split very easily. c) Long nails make playing the guitar properly pretty much impossible.
2) I hate and despise needles. They have always freaked me out on so many levels. This is the reason that I never gave blood--I figured the last thing those good kind people at the blood bank needed was a woman who would panic and possibly even pass out at the first sight of a needle coming anywhere near her arm. I was comfortable with that part of my personality for a long time. Then, a few years ago, what was supposed to be a simple outpatient surgery went horribly wrong and I ended up needing two blood transfusions. I still remember waking up from anesthesia with a screaming headache, and feeling so weak. I also remember how much better I felt after the transfusions. My headache subsided, and I felt so much more like myself again. It still took me several weeks of taking an iron supplement to be completely normal again, but those transfusions really made a difference for me, and I remember feeling so grateful.
Since then, I wanted to pay it forward by giving blood at least once in my life. About a year or so ago, I finally had that opportunity and I took it. I went and donated blood, and you know what? It wasn't anywhere nearly as bad as I'd been anticipating. I might even do it again. But the aftermath of my first ever experience with donating blood was extremely tough, because that same night we went out to a new restaurant that had gotten mixed reviews and I ended up with a HORRIFIC case of food poisoning. Between giving blood and losing every other possible fluid in my body in the most violent of fashions, I have never been more weak, dehydrated, or miserable. I'll have to be MUCH choosier about my food choices the next time I want to give blood. I'm thinking soup and Saltines...
1) I cry at Disney movies. Seriously, all the time. "Up"? I sobbed. "Frozen"? Gee whiz! Where are my tissues? "Brave"? Bawled at the end. Oh and don't even get me started on "Toy Story 3"! The end of that movie never fails to throw me into a fit of tears. Most recently, in the theater, I freaking cried during "Inside Out". Multiple times. It's just a good thing we had napkins with us! What can I say? I'm a big softie, and Disney REALLY knows how to set me off. It's a gift, I guess. Or just a bunch of writers and animators that understand enough about human nature to get a big goof like me to weep like a little girl...Either way, I will always love Disney. Disney movies, Disneyland, it's all right up my alley of cheesy, feel good fun.
Alright, I think I've gone on long enough. Thanks for bearing with me, and I'll try to post again soon. I've got stories about taking the GRE, and my most recent family vacation. Oh yes! Stay tuned! (All 3 of you...)
I'm not saying that I feel particularly old. I'm not saying that I have any regrets for how I think I should have been spending the last 33 years. I have a great life, and I'm happy with where I am. It's just going by so FAST! Geez! It's crazy!
Okay, rant over for now. Anyway, in order to celebrate my 33rd Birthday, and my 5-year Blogiversary, (which actually happened on June 2nd), I've decided to reveal 11 things about myself that I'm pretty sure I've never revealed here before (although I could be wrong).
Why 11, you ask? Because 33 = 3 + 3 = 6, plus 5 = 11. Get it? Good. Moving on...
11) Although I might seem pretty open and even outgoing here in the blogosphere, I am painfully timid socially. Perhaps I have said this before, but here's an example of how painful this timidity can be: Even when it comes to people with whom I have a good, friendly relationship, I very rarely approach them in public social situations. I will hang back, sitting or standing alone, until I am approached by someone. Apparently my fear of rejection is so great, I'd rather sit in silence and be alone than put myself out there and be rebuffed. I don't know if that makes me overly cautious, or a total complete chicken. (If you're sitting there thinking there is no difference between those two phrases, you are WRONG!) Either way, that's who I am. I am extremely careful about who I "let in" to my inner circle. I think maybe 4 people have ever reached that point with me in my entire lifetime. Oh sure, people get pretty close, but there are very, VERY few people whom I feel I can trust implicitly.
10) I LOVE watching "Phineas and Ferb." It's one of the best kid shows ever made. It's hilarious and clever, and I just really enjoy watching it. Oh sure, it's made for kids, but we all know those writers were keeping the parents in mind when they put the show together. Absolutely brilliant!
9) I will never stop loving old musical movies. "Singin' in the Rain" with Gene Kelley? Yes please! "The Court Jester" with Danny Kaye? Sign me up! "Hello Dolly" with Walter Matthau, Barbara Streisand, and Michael Crawford? Excuse me while I get some popcorn! I was raised watching these classics with my family, and we will always be grateful that we had parents who loved us enough to expose us to these fun movies as children.
8) I HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE being scared, startled, or creeped out in any way. I DO NOT watch horror movies. I REFUSE to go to Haunted Houses, Corn Mazes, or anything else that involves chainsaw-waving lunatics in masks. It's not just for my sake that I avoid these things, trust me! My little sister is still traumatized by the instance in which she came haplessly around a corner just as I was attempting to turn that same corner in the opposite direction. She startled me so much I screamed and slapped her on the arm so hard she had a hand print there all day. I realize of course that she did not intend to frighten me, but my "fight or flight" response was awakened that day, and apparently I chose to fight. Sorry, Sis!
7) Speaking of my family, I shared a room until I was 15 years old. I shared with my older sister for a while, but then when she got old enough, my parents moved her into her own room, and I shared with my younger sister for a LONG time (yes, the same younger sister that got slapped for being in the wrong place at the wrong time). We drove each other CRAZY. Everyone who knew Minnie was always talking about how cute she was, how funny and sweet. I always rolled my eyes, because only I knew the TRUTH. Once we stopped having to share a room, however, and I was finally installed in my own bedroom in the basement, I suddenly started to realize that those people had been right. Minnie is the life and soul of any room that she happens to be in. I love her to pieces, now.
6) When I was in Junior High and High School, and I happened to be seated next to a particular type of person, those people pretty much ALWAYS decided that I was their new favorite person. They would open up to me, talk to me, and wave at me in the halls. What type of people were they? Stoners, troublemakers, anxiety/depression sufferers and overall rebels. Not kidding. Every day those stoner kids would show up to class, smelling like weed and they would just talk to me like we had known each other all our lives. One of them was a girl who was absolutely convinced that my name was "Kansas." I never corrected her. I figured she was close enough. A guy in my math class showed me his self harm scars and talked to me about how much he hated his abusive dad. A girl in my Sophomore choir class told me she was pregnant, and talked to me freely about her problems.
The more I consider these people, the more I think that the reason they liked me and opened up to me was the fact that I didn't judge them. I listened, and I talked to them and never raised an eyebrow no matter what they told me about themselves. I never considered myself to be any better than they were. I know how flawed I am. Who am I to judge others just because their flaws are different from mine? I have a lot of weaknesses, make no mistake. But I do have one strength: I'm accepting. You can come to me with just about any kind of baggage, and I won't hold it against you. Have a cookie.
5) Housework is...not my forte. I hate doing it, because I see very little point in doing something that will only be UN-done within five minutes of my finishing it. But I give in, because no matter how much I hate doing housework, I hate living in filth even more.
4) It may seem like a pretty lame fact about me, but my hair is currently longer than it's been since I was 12 years old. It's somewhere around my shoulder blades, and I have no intention of chopping it off any time soon. It used to be that once Springtime rolled around, off I would trot to the hairdressers to get whatever Wintertime mange I'd managed to grow completely chopped--usually into a shaggy pixie cut. Even when I was growing out my hair, I never let it grow past my shoulders. But about 18 months ago, I decided that I would not let myself cut my hair off until I'd finished my Bachelors Degree. Once I graduate, that option is once again open to me. And I might even walk away from that stylist's chair with purple streaks. Why? Because purple is my favorite color, and because I can. We'll see how bold I feel that day, but to be perfectly honest, I'll probably chicken out.
3) I never paint my fingernails, because I have ridiculously stubby fingers. Painting the nails only enhances the stubbiness. Not to mention the fact that I always keep my nails super short, so painting them is pretty pointless. I do this for several reasons: a) If I let them get too long, I start biting them and they end up super short anyway. b) They break/split very easily. c) Long nails make playing the guitar properly pretty much impossible.
2) I hate and despise needles. They have always freaked me out on so many levels. This is the reason that I never gave blood--I figured the last thing those good kind people at the blood bank needed was a woman who would panic and possibly even pass out at the first sight of a needle coming anywhere near her arm. I was comfortable with that part of my personality for a long time. Then, a few years ago, what was supposed to be a simple outpatient surgery went horribly wrong and I ended up needing two blood transfusions. I still remember waking up from anesthesia with a screaming headache, and feeling so weak. I also remember how much better I felt after the transfusions. My headache subsided, and I felt so much more like myself again. It still took me several weeks of taking an iron supplement to be completely normal again, but those transfusions really made a difference for me, and I remember feeling so grateful.
Since then, I wanted to pay it forward by giving blood at least once in my life. About a year or so ago, I finally had that opportunity and I took it. I went and donated blood, and you know what? It wasn't anywhere nearly as bad as I'd been anticipating. I might even do it again. But the aftermath of my first ever experience with donating blood was extremely tough, because that same night we went out to a new restaurant that had gotten mixed reviews and I ended up with a HORRIFIC case of food poisoning. Between giving blood and losing every other possible fluid in my body in the most violent of fashions, I have never been more weak, dehydrated, or miserable. I'll have to be MUCH choosier about my food choices the next time I want to give blood. I'm thinking soup and Saltines...
1) I cry at Disney movies. Seriously, all the time. "Up"? I sobbed. "Frozen"? Gee whiz! Where are my tissues? "Brave"? Bawled at the end. Oh and don't even get me started on "Toy Story 3"! The end of that movie never fails to throw me into a fit of tears. Most recently, in the theater, I freaking cried during "Inside Out". Multiple times. It's just a good thing we had napkins with us! What can I say? I'm a big softie, and Disney REALLY knows how to set me off. It's a gift, I guess. Or just a bunch of writers and animators that understand enough about human nature to get a big goof like me to weep like a little girl...Either way, I will always love Disney. Disney movies, Disneyland, it's all right up my alley of cheesy, feel good fun.
Alright, I think I've gone on long enough. Thanks for bearing with me, and I'll try to post again soon. I've got stories about taking the GRE, and my most recent family vacation. Oh yes! Stay tuned! (All 3 of you...)
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Hey! It's me!...
Sooo...it's been a while. Sorry about that. A lot has happened since the end of the semester. CT and AJ are both out of school for the Summer now. AJ graduated from preschool for the second and final time, and will be in Kindergarten next year (Not fair! Can't we slow things down a bit?) CT got through 4th Grade (also not fair), and walked away with some pretty darn good grades. Go chiddlers!
Oh, and speaking of great accomplishments, Ty was promoted at work! Yay Ty! He's now working for the corporate offices of his company. He's been working his tail end off, and now he's been promoted to this great new job and I couldn't be prouder.
My little brother got married a couple of weeks ago, and despite a number of setbacks with getting everything pulled together and some timing issues, it was a great day and he's settling in happily with his adorable new wife. And it was at his wedding reception that I had an interesting experience and learned something that I think everyone should embrace.
To preface this story, allow me to say this: I am not a good dancer. I can do some basic stuff, but when it comes to real life dancing, I have about as much skill as a baked ham in a washing machine. But I've enjoyed taking social dance classes, and had my fair share of fun at dances back in my high school days. In later years, however, not so much. I mean, when and where am I going to go dancing? Exactly. It ain't my thing, it never really has been, and I'm okay with it.
Well, at my brother's wedding reception, some impromptu dancing broke out, and my siblings and I started joining in. And as I was goofing off on the dance floor with my sisters, something funny happened. I forgot about everyone else in the room and just...danced. I mean, I've heard the phrase before, I think we all have: "Dance like no one is watching." I've heard it before, and I've always understood it to mean something like: Do what makes you happy, regardless of what anyone else might think of you, because in the end what they think just doesn't matter. It made perfect sense, and while I realized that it could be taken literally and mean basically the same thing, I never really considered trying it.
Well, at my brother's wedding, I did it. I danced because it felt good and it made me laugh and smile. And hey, the music was good. Afterwards, I realized that I may have looked a bit silly to any onlookers, but I also realized that I really don't care. I had fun, and I will always remember those moments where I threw social consciousness to the wind and set my barely-coordinated self free. I may even do it again in the future. So take a newly-written page out of my book of advice. If you're given the chance, dance like no one is watching. It's a great feeling!
Oh, and speaking of great accomplishments, Ty was promoted at work! Yay Ty! He's now working for the corporate offices of his company. He's been working his tail end off, and now he's been promoted to this great new job and I couldn't be prouder.
My little brother got married a couple of weeks ago, and despite a number of setbacks with getting everything pulled together and some timing issues, it was a great day and he's settling in happily with his adorable new wife. And it was at his wedding reception that I had an interesting experience and learned something that I think everyone should embrace.
To preface this story, allow me to say this: I am not a good dancer. I can do some basic stuff, but when it comes to real life dancing, I have about as much skill as a baked ham in a washing machine. But I've enjoyed taking social dance classes, and had my fair share of fun at dances back in my high school days. In later years, however, not so much. I mean, when and where am I going to go dancing? Exactly. It ain't my thing, it never really has been, and I'm okay with it.
Well, at my brother's wedding reception, some impromptu dancing broke out, and my siblings and I started joining in. And as I was goofing off on the dance floor with my sisters, something funny happened. I forgot about everyone else in the room and just...danced. I mean, I've heard the phrase before, I think we all have: "Dance like no one is watching." I've heard it before, and I've always understood it to mean something like: Do what makes you happy, regardless of what anyone else might think of you, because in the end what they think just doesn't matter. It made perfect sense, and while I realized that it could be taken literally and mean basically the same thing, I never really considered trying it.
Well, at my brother's wedding, I did it. I danced because it felt good and it made me laugh and smile. And hey, the music was good. Afterwards, I realized that I may have looked a bit silly to any onlookers, but I also realized that I really don't care. I had fun, and I will always remember those moments where I threw social consciousness to the wind and set my barely-coordinated self free. I may even do it again in the future. So take a newly-written page out of my book of advice. If you're given the chance, dance like no one is watching. It's a great feeling!
Thursday, May 7, 2015
A Quick Recap of Finals Week...
Sunday: I'm freaking out. Everything ends on Friday and Saturday. Every. Thing. Both of my class finals, and my final paper for my Art class. All of it has to be done in the next 5 days. As things stand right now, I have A's in all of my classes, and the last thing I want is to screw that up at the last minute. I need a Coke.
Monday: I register for the final exam for my online Psychology class. I can take it Thursday, Friday, or Saturday. My final for Speech and Language Development is on Friday afternoon. I make a crazy decision to take my Psychology exam on Thursday. Sure, it means taking at least one night off from studying for my other final, but I figure it's worth it. I need to get something checked off my list! So I take the risk. Both of my study guides have been ready for a week. All I have to do is read through them. Repeatedly. Rehearsing the information over and over again until I know it well enough to teach a freaking seminar.
I still have no idea what I'm going to do for the five page paper for my Art class. I hate that stupid class. It's a general ed requirement, and it sucks. I can't help but feel that my attitude toward the class itself is leading me to adopt a line of thought that runs something along the lines of: "Meh." I figure I'll be able to pull something together by Friday night. I need a Coke.
Tuesday: I want to study while AJ is at preschool, but it's a Field Trip day, so the schedule is a bit messed up. I want to be able to go with the group, but I just can't justify losing any uninterrupted study time. So I drop her off with her teacher, explaining that I will be joining them for the picnic at the end of the field trip and then I'll take AJ home with me. I study for about 2 hours, then I make lunches for me and my daughter, get things all packed up, and head over to the park. After the picnic, AJ and I come home for a few minutes so I can gather all of my stuff together, and then drop AJ off at my Mom's house so I can go to the final lecture for my Speech and Language Development class. That night, I study. I also try very hard to figure out what I'm going to do for my five page paper for Art class. No luck there. "Screw it," I say to myself, "I'll figure it out." (That is looking more and more doubtful at this point...)
Wednesday: The day is completely crazy, I have no time whatsoever for studying until after the chiddlers are in bed. I study for my Psychology final, as it will be happening the very next day. Still no ideas for my paper. I need a Coke.
Thursday: AJ's preschool has been cancelled for the day. It's been on the calendar since the beginning of the school year, but the timing could not be worse. I could REALLY use that study time, but I'm prepared to just do what I can and pray for as much help as I can get. And then suddenly, a miracle. One of my friends sends me a text message, asking if AJ can come over for a couple of hours that morning to play with her daughter. I am so grateful for her impeccable timing, I must remember to take her some brownies.
I go and pick AJ up from her friend's house, bring her home and feed her some lunch, and then she goes back to my Mom's house so I can go and take my test for Psychology. I go to the testing center, I take some time to go over my notes a couple more times, and then I go in to take the test. The nice thing about taking an online class and taking computerized tests is that I can get my score instantly. I clicked "Submit" at the end of the test, and I got a 100%. Who just made that test her bee-yotch?
That night, when Ty calls me on his way home from work and asks his usual question: "Do you need me to stop and get anything?" I ask him for one thing: "I could really use a very, VERY large Coke." He totally comes through, and once the chiddlers are in bed, I take that fabulous beverage out of the fridge and drink it as I study for my final final.
Friday: This morning, I tell AJ that I'm not going to be very much fun, because I have to study for my test, but I love her very much and I'm almost done for the whole Summer. She's supposed to go to my mom's again that afternoon, but then Mom calls and tells me that she has a wedding luncheon to go to. Apparently, when she put babysitting on her calendar, she put me on the wrong week. But, she gets in touch with my sister, who kindly agrees to watch the chiddlers for me. I go, take my test, and I feel pretty good about it as I walk away - although since it's a paper test I won't know exactly how I did until my professor has the chance to go over it, grade it, and post my score online.
After picking up the chiddlers from my sister's house, I bring them home, and CT goes off to his friend's house, while I give AJ a very big hug, apologize for being so busy and boring, and let her pick a movie to watch while I sit in the front room to write my paper. I then proceed to BS harder than I have ever BS'ed before. I honestly have no idea how my professor will react, or what my final grade will be. I only know that the paper I ended up submitting is pretty much as good as anyone was going to get out of me that night. By the time I email the attachment for my paper to the professor, it's past 7:00 PM.
Not only have AJ and I not had dinner yet, but I realize that I forgot to eat lunch that day. Suddenly, I'm starving, and as the reality of my triumph washes over me, I become more and more elated - giddy, even. I decide to reward myself with a Subway sandwich, and a large Coke. AJ gets her dinner, and I eat mine while I watch "Cutthroat Kitchen" on Netflix. After dinner is over, I get AJ to bed, and then when Ty comes home he finds himself once again the center of my attention - after playing second fiddle to homework and studying for several weeks. He's a good, patient soul who not only puts up with being neglected for weeks at a time while I'm studying and writing research papers, he calms me down when I'm freaking out, and brings me Coke and sour gummy worms right when I need them most. I have decided to keep him.
Finals Week has been over for a whole week now. It doesn't feel like that, though. It feels as though a month has passed since those 5 crazy days. However, I have since found out that not only do I have an A in Psychology, but I also have an A in Speech and Language Development (I got 100% on my final exam!!!) I have yet to hear back from my Art professor regarding the five pages of pure, unadulterated improvisation that I submitted to her. I'm just hoping she'll pull the old: "You know what? I'm tired. I'll just scan through this thing and give her full marks for it." Or maybe the paper's better than I think it is. Either way, I'm still waiting for an official grade.
Now all I have to worry about this Summer is taking the GRE. And sunburn. And mosquitoes. Nice, right?
Okay, I'm done now. Really. I'm done. No more, I swear. Right now. Now I'm done. Seriously I - ...
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Phew! It Was Rough, but We're Still Alive!!!...
We haven't done it for five years. Oh sure, we've thought about it, but it's just never happened. Usually we had finals or other concerns on our mind, and so we could always make excuses. But this year, we couldn't think of anything to prevent it from happening, so we finally bit the bullet.
That's right. We threw our son a birthday party, with friends and games and everything. I know what you're thinking right now: "WHAT?!? Invite a group of kids between the ages of 8 and 10 over to your house and then give them cake?!? What are you, nuts?!?!?" Yes. Yes we are.
I couldn't really think of any real excuses this year, though. And what really clinched it is that this was one of the big birthdays. CT turned 10 this year! Double digits! The big 1 - 0!!! It had to be something extra special. Usually, we just have a nice, private celebration with family. We'll take him to the zoo, or a museum, or something fun like that. But no friends. The last time we had a friend party for him was when he turned 5 years old.
So this year, we figured it was time. We printed up some invitations, and invited his 6 closest friends to our house "for pizza and fun!" Sounds easy enough, right? We set a 2 hour window, and I figured we could just fill the time with some simple games, feed the kids, and send them home.
Preparations for today's event began last night, around 8:30 pm. I made cupcakes. While the cupcakes baked, I continued my work of creating a study guide for one of my upcoming finals. CT was having a late night at his friend's house, and he came home at around 9:30. When he walked in, I was able to ask him what type of frosting he wanted for the cupcakes. He chose vanilla icing - blue vanilla icing. I wasn't all that surprised, and so once the cupcakes had cooled, I began the process of making the frosting. Very simple, I've been doing it for years. Buttercream isn't difficult to make. But for some reason, I just couldn't get that blue dye to do what I wanted it to do! I added a LOT of drops of that stuff, and the frosting still came out more of a sky blue, when I was looking for something darker. Oh well. And then, by the time I had finally gotten the best color I could expect, the frosting was just a tad too runny. Oh well. It's not like the kids would really notice how thin the icing was. Especially when I covered it all up with super cool sprinkles!!! And my highly competent cupcake tester (Ty) gave some excellent feedback. "These are delicious." He said. I called it a win, put the cupcakes into my cake caddy to wait for the next day. (Yes, yes I do own a cake caddy. And it's awesome.)
This morning, we all woke up with a mission. Well, Ty and I each woke up with a mission, and recruited our chiddlers to assist. The chiddlers and I would clean the inside of the house, and Ty wanted to get the yard work done. Between CT, AJ, and me, we managed to get the house all tidied up. Then CT went outside to help his dad. I had some last-minute errands to run before the party, so I took AJ with me and left the boys to finish up the yard.
We went to the store, where I got some treats for the kids to take home with them, including extra treats/prizes for the two who would win the Lego building contest we were going to have at the party. I also got paper plates, napkins, and plastic cups (because I was NOT going to do that many dishes!!!). I also got some candles, and a few ingredients for the big cake I am going to make for the family party we'll be having tomorrow. Sadly, my trip to the store took longer than I expected, and I had purchased some ice cream, so instead of heading straight for my mom's house to borrow her big folding table and chairs, I had to run home and put some stuff away first. And I was now in a bit of a rush, with just over an hour until party time!
Mom and Dad weren't home, but when I asked her to borrow the table and chairs, Mom said my brother would be at the house. However, when I got there, I couldn't find that jack wagon! So I hauled that big table up from Mom's basement, and the five folding chairs that Mom has. In the process, I may or may not have dropped said metal folding chairs on Mom's kitchen tile, creating multiple earth-shattering crashes that put my nerves on edge.
While I was doing all of that hauling up those stairs, I was doing some quick calculations, knowing that five chairs would not be enough to accommodate all of the kids that would be coming to the party. I did some mental finagling and decided that two of them would have to sit on the couch. Anyway, I managed to get all of that furniture shoved into the back of our van, and then I headed home.
When I got there, it was about 30 minutes to party time and the boys were still hard at work in the yard. (The weather here in Utah has been absolutely insane, to say the least, but it's finally calmed down enough to allow for yard work - so today was the first time the lawn has been mowed since last fall. It was a big job.) Anyway, I called out to them that we had only a half hour until guests started arriving, so CT came inside to get showered and ready for the party while Ty stayed outside to finish the job. It was crunch time, and I've gotta say, when it's crunch time, I get pretty crabby and bossy. The chiddlers had several last-minute orders barked at them, and they complied quickly. They know by now not to mess with Mom when she's in Crunch Time Mode.
I had some last minute tidying up to do, and I was still emptying the dishwasher when the first kid arrived, 15 minutes early. I wasn't too upset by this, and he's a pretty helpful kid. I asked him and CT to go upstairs and gather up some Legos for the party. Then, right on time, the kids all started to come, one by one. While they were all still arriving, Ty came inside and went upstairs to get ready for the party (talk about just in time!)
Once I was sure that everyone was here, I began the Lego building competition. It was during this particular activity that I realized just what I had signed on for. I've met all of CT's friends. They're all nice kids. Normal, not super obnoxious, pretty polite, that kind of thing. But I've only ever dealt with them one at a time before today. When they were not trying to talk over each other. All of them, all at once, getting louder and louder and louder...WOW! I had to raise my voice more than once just to be heard over the babble! Anyway, we finally got through the contest, and the winners received their prizes, and then we moved on to the next activity: A game of "Apples to Apples, the Disney Version." This is a favorite at our house, so I figured we couldn't go wrong, right?
I played with the kids, so I could try and keep some sort of order going in the game, and HOLY CRAP the noise level was eardrum-shattering! Why do kids feel the need to talk all at the same time? And why do they feel the need to keep getting louder and louder in their attempts to be heard over each other?
I did all that I could to keep them under some semblance of control so we could get through the game, all the while asking myself why I thought having this party was a good idea and hoping I still had a good supply of Excedrin in the medicine cabinet...
Ty picked up and brought home the pizzas, and then meal time started. Usually, in most groups, eating time means that the talk dies down a bit, because their mouths are busy chewing. But while those kids went through their pizza and drinks with no hint of a problem, their noise levels only got louder!!! Ty had to use his big voice more than once just to keep things at a decibel level that wouldn't shatter our TV screen!
Anyway, once we got through dinner, we fed them cupcakes. While we were preparing the treats, Ty looked at me and said: "We're definitely going to stick with only doing this every 5 years." I looked back at him and said: "Really? I was thinking 20." He looked at me as though he'd never loved me more than he did at that moment, and then we started serving the cupcakes. We put a candle in CT's cupcake, everyone sang a cacophonous "Happy Birthday" and then he opened his gifts.
By the time it was all over, and everyone went home, I just had to sit in my rocking chair and close my eyes for a few minutes, giving my ears a chance to readjust to the new noise levels. And then I changed into my sweatpants, and popped two Excedrin, praying for lightning fast relief. (Ah, Excedrin! You never let me down!)
But, the good news is: CT and his friends had a great time, and we don't have to do this again until the boy turns 30! Yay!
Now we just have to make up for a grave error: We didn't throw a friend party for AJ's 5th birthday this last Fall, so guess what we're going to do THIS fall? Oy Vey. Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe by then AJ will have grown out of her desire to have birthday parties. It could happen, right?
That's right. We threw our son a birthday party, with friends and games and everything. I know what you're thinking right now: "WHAT?!? Invite a group of kids between the ages of 8 and 10 over to your house and then give them cake?!? What are you, nuts?!?!?" Yes. Yes we are.
I couldn't really think of any real excuses this year, though. And what really clinched it is that this was one of the big birthdays. CT turned 10 this year! Double digits! The big 1 - 0!!! It had to be something extra special. Usually, we just have a nice, private celebration with family. We'll take him to the zoo, or a museum, or something fun like that. But no friends. The last time we had a friend party for him was when he turned 5 years old.
So this year, we figured it was time. We printed up some invitations, and invited his 6 closest friends to our house "for pizza and fun!" Sounds easy enough, right? We set a 2 hour window, and I figured we could just fill the time with some simple games, feed the kids, and send them home.
Preparations for today's event began last night, around 8:30 pm. I made cupcakes. While the cupcakes baked, I continued my work of creating a study guide for one of my upcoming finals. CT was having a late night at his friend's house, and he came home at around 9:30. When he walked in, I was able to ask him what type of frosting he wanted for the cupcakes. He chose vanilla icing - blue vanilla icing. I wasn't all that surprised, and so once the cupcakes had cooled, I began the process of making the frosting. Very simple, I've been doing it for years. Buttercream isn't difficult to make. But for some reason, I just couldn't get that blue dye to do what I wanted it to do! I added a LOT of drops of that stuff, and the frosting still came out more of a sky blue, when I was looking for something darker. Oh well. And then, by the time I had finally gotten the best color I could expect, the frosting was just a tad too runny. Oh well. It's not like the kids would really notice how thin the icing was. Especially when I covered it all up with super cool sprinkles!!! And my highly competent cupcake tester (Ty) gave some excellent feedback. "These are delicious." He said. I called it a win, put the cupcakes into my cake caddy to wait for the next day. (Yes, yes I do own a cake caddy. And it's awesome.)
This morning, we all woke up with a mission. Well, Ty and I each woke up with a mission, and recruited our chiddlers to assist. The chiddlers and I would clean the inside of the house, and Ty wanted to get the yard work done. Between CT, AJ, and me, we managed to get the house all tidied up. Then CT went outside to help his dad. I had some last-minute errands to run before the party, so I took AJ with me and left the boys to finish up the yard.
We went to the store, where I got some treats for the kids to take home with them, including extra treats/prizes for the two who would win the Lego building contest we were going to have at the party. I also got paper plates, napkins, and plastic cups (because I was NOT going to do that many dishes!!!). I also got some candles, and a few ingredients for the big cake I am going to make for the family party we'll be having tomorrow. Sadly, my trip to the store took longer than I expected, and I had purchased some ice cream, so instead of heading straight for my mom's house to borrow her big folding table and chairs, I had to run home and put some stuff away first. And I was now in a bit of a rush, with just over an hour until party time!
Mom and Dad weren't home, but when I asked her to borrow the table and chairs, Mom said my brother would be at the house. However, when I got there, I couldn't find that jack wagon! So I hauled that big table up from Mom's basement, and the five folding chairs that Mom has. In the process, I may or may not have dropped said metal folding chairs on Mom's kitchen tile, creating multiple earth-shattering crashes that put my nerves on edge.
While I was doing all of that hauling up those stairs, I was doing some quick calculations, knowing that five chairs would not be enough to accommodate all of the kids that would be coming to the party. I did some mental finagling and decided that two of them would have to sit on the couch. Anyway, I managed to get all of that furniture shoved into the back of our van, and then I headed home.
When I got there, it was about 30 minutes to party time and the boys were still hard at work in the yard. (The weather here in Utah has been absolutely insane, to say the least, but it's finally calmed down enough to allow for yard work - so today was the first time the lawn has been mowed since last fall. It was a big job.) Anyway, I called out to them that we had only a half hour until guests started arriving, so CT came inside to get showered and ready for the party while Ty stayed outside to finish the job. It was crunch time, and I've gotta say, when it's crunch time, I get pretty crabby and bossy. The chiddlers had several last-minute orders barked at them, and they complied quickly. They know by now not to mess with Mom when she's in Crunch Time Mode.
I had some last minute tidying up to do, and I was still emptying the dishwasher when the first kid arrived, 15 minutes early. I wasn't too upset by this, and he's a pretty helpful kid. I asked him and CT to go upstairs and gather up some Legos for the party. Then, right on time, the kids all started to come, one by one. While they were all still arriving, Ty came inside and went upstairs to get ready for the party (talk about just in time!)
Once I was sure that everyone was here, I began the Lego building competition. It was during this particular activity that I realized just what I had signed on for. I've met all of CT's friends. They're all nice kids. Normal, not super obnoxious, pretty polite, that kind of thing. But I've only ever dealt with them one at a time before today. When they were not trying to talk over each other. All of them, all at once, getting louder and louder and louder...WOW! I had to raise my voice more than once just to be heard over the babble! Anyway, we finally got through the contest, and the winners received their prizes, and then we moved on to the next activity: A game of "Apples to Apples, the Disney Version." This is a favorite at our house, so I figured we couldn't go wrong, right?
I played with the kids, so I could try and keep some sort of order going in the game, and HOLY CRAP the noise level was eardrum-shattering! Why do kids feel the need to talk all at the same time? And why do they feel the need to keep getting louder and louder in their attempts to be heard over each other?
I did all that I could to keep them under some semblance of control so we could get through the game, all the while asking myself why I thought having this party was a good idea and hoping I still had a good supply of Excedrin in the medicine cabinet...
Ty picked up and brought home the pizzas, and then meal time started. Usually, in most groups, eating time means that the talk dies down a bit, because their mouths are busy chewing. But while those kids went through their pizza and drinks with no hint of a problem, their noise levels only got louder!!! Ty had to use his big voice more than once just to keep things at a decibel level that wouldn't shatter our TV screen!
Anyway, once we got through dinner, we fed them cupcakes. While we were preparing the treats, Ty looked at me and said: "We're definitely going to stick with only doing this every 5 years." I looked back at him and said: "Really? I was thinking 20." He looked at me as though he'd never loved me more than he did at that moment, and then we started serving the cupcakes. We put a candle in CT's cupcake, everyone sang a cacophonous "Happy Birthday" and then he opened his gifts.
By the time it was all over, and everyone went home, I just had to sit in my rocking chair and close my eyes for a few minutes, giving my ears a chance to readjust to the new noise levels. And then I changed into my sweatpants, and popped two Excedrin, praying for lightning fast relief. (Ah, Excedrin! You never let me down!)
But, the good news is: CT and his friends had a great time, and we don't have to do this again until the boy turns 30! Yay!
Now we just have to make up for a grave error: We didn't throw a friend party for AJ's 5th birthday this last Fall, so guess what we're going to do THIS fall? Oy Vey. Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe by then AJ will have grown out of her desire to have birthday parties. It could happen, right?
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Still Alive!!! (Contrary to Popular Belief)...
Yes, yes, I'm still here. I definitely hit a bit of a rough patch with school there, though. I had two big projects that I had to complete for one of my classes, a big test to study for for that same class, and another test for one of my other classes that I only had two days to study for after completing the first test. (Following me so far?)
Basically, I've been studying, researching, studying, testing, researching, summarizing and writing for a month now. My husband and chiddlers hardly know me anymore. I'm just the weird lady with a newly-developed eye twitch that makes their dinner.
But today, HA!!!
Today I turned in the big, 14-page article synthesis essay that's been hanging over my head all semester. I turned it in, the last of the big projects that I've been working on. I aced my Psychology test. I aced my Language Development test. I aced my other big assignment for Language Development, and now today I've turned in my article synthesis for Language Development, hoping for another good grade. And NOW...I'm ready for a break.
I can't take more than a few days off, mind. I still have finals to study for, and a final paper to write for my art class (a general studies requirement, don't ask). But today, and throughout the rest of this weekend, I intend to do nothing. I shall do nothing, but sit in my recliner chair and try to work out all the knots in my neck and lower back that come from hunching over my laptop for a month straight. I intend for the entire experience to be awesomely dull and filled with nothing but Netflix and word puzzle games that I play on my iPad. Sounds nice, right? Yeah, you can be jealous if you want. I don't blame you.
I hope you're all doing well. Wish me luck with the rest of the semester. See you all in May! (Or I'll be in a hospital, hooked up to machinery that's desperately trying to rekindle all of my overworked brain cells...)
Basically, I've been studying, researching, studying, testing, researching, summarizing and writing for a month now. My husband and chiddlers hardly know me anymore. I'm just the weird lady with a newly-developed eye twitch that makes their dinner.
But today, HA!!!
Today I turned in the big, 14-page article synthesis essay that's been hanging over my head all semester. I turned it in, the last of the big projects that I've been working on. I aced my Psychology test. I aced my Language Development test. I aced my other big assignment for Language Development, and now today I've turned in my article synthesis for Language Development, hoping for another good grade. And NOW...I'm ready for a break.
I can't take more than a few days off, mind. I still have finals to study for, and a final paper to write for my art class (a general studies requirement, don't ask). But today, and throughout the rest of this weekend, I intend to do nothing. I shall do nothing, but sit in my recliner chair and try to work out all the knots in my neck and lower back that come from hunching over my laptop for a month straight. I intend for the entire experience to be awesomely dull and filled with nothing but Netflix and word puzzle games that I play on my iPad. Sounds nice, right? Yeah, you can be jealous if you want. I don't blame you.
I hope you're all doing well. Wish me luck with the rest of the semester. See you all in May! (Or I'll be in a hospital, hooked up to machinery that's desperately trying to rekindle all of my overworked brain cells...)
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Ha Ha Ha! Very Funny, Mother Nature...
Today, it snowed. For the first time since Christmas. Not kidding. I think February must have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque on its way here. Even now, after a crazy snow/slush storm, the sun is coming out again. To be honest, I'm not complaining about how mild this winter has been. It's been crazy nice around here, actually. Like a perpetual spring. "Not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket." (If any of you dudes out there can name the movie I took that line from, you're probably married or in some other committed relationship. Or you just really love chick flicks. Either way, no judgments here.)
Let's see...big things that have happened since I last ranted here...
My little brother got engaged to his adorably sweet girlfriend (now fiance.) We're totally thrilled, and the wedding is coming up fast, since they've decided to get married over Memorial Day weekend. I'm glad I get to be the fun, supportive big sister so I can have all the fun and excitement that comes from planning these sorts of things without the stress of trying to pull a wedding together.
Tyler got assigned to a post in the Marketing Department at his company. Basically, he's going to be coordinating things and looking after the department for three months while the two women who work there are both on maternity leave, in addition to his current position. He's been trying to find the right opening at the Support Office for months, and now here's this great opportunity for him to make some contacts there and prove himself. As I told him: "It may not be a foot in the door, but it's definitely a toe!" I'm super proud of him. He was chosen from several candidates to do this, and I don't think they could have picked a better person. He'll be awesome. That's his way.
I took my first exams for two of my classes. The first was for my "Brain and Behavior" psychology class, and I got a 100%. Go me! I just took the first exam for my Language Development class on Thursday, so I don't know how I did. It's pretty freaking agonizing, especially since I walked out of that test feeling very unsure about several of my answers. So let's all cross our fingers that the results for this test will fill my heart with joy, rather than soul-crushing despair. Please?
AJ and I painted our toenails today. It's snowing outside. It's a Saturday. It seemed to be a good idea. And it was. Now we both have super fabulous toenails just in time to have to cover them up with socks and shoes so they can be protected from the snow/slush/rain. Well played, Mother Nature. Well played.
Anyway, enjoy the rest of your weekend. And this, the final week of February. (Yeesh!)
Let's see...big things that have happened since I last ranted here...
My little brother got engaged to his adorably sweet girlfriend (now fiance.) We're totally thrilled, and the wedding is coming up fast, since they've decided to get married over Memorial Day weekend. I'm glad I get to be the fun, supportive big sister so I can have all the fun and excitement that comes from planning these sorts of things without the stress of trying to pull a wedding together.
Tyler got assigned to a post in the Marketing Department at his company. Basically, he's going to be coordinating things and looking after the department for three months while the two women who work there are both on maternity leave, in addition to his current position. He's been trying to find the right opening at the Support Office for months, and now here's this great opportunity for him to make some contacts there and prove himself. As I told him: "It may not be a foot in the door, but it's definitely a toe!" I'm super proud of him. He was chosen from several candidates to do this, and I don't think they could have picked a better person. He'll be awesome. That's his way.
I took my first exams for two of my classes. The first was for my "Brain and Behavior" psychology class, and I got a 100%. Go me! I just took the first exam for my Language Development class on Thursday, so I don't know how I did. It's pretty freaking agonizing, especially since I walked out of that test feeling very unsure about several of my answers. So let's all cross our fingers that the results for this test will fill my heart with joy, rather than soul-crushing despair. Please?
AJ and I painted our toenails today. It's snowing outside. It's a Saturday. It seemed to be a good idea. And it was. Now we both have super fabulous toenails just in time to have to cover them up with socks and shoes so they can be protected from the snow/slush/rain. Well played, Mother Nature. Well played.
Anyway, enjoy the rest of your weekend. And this, the final week of February. (Yeesh!)
Monday, February 2, 2015
To Those Who Incurred My Wrath Yesterday...
**Begin Rant**
That lesson was really well done. It was well organized and I could tell that Kami put a lot of work into it. She had a lot of information to give, and she really knows what she's talking about. People were asking questions and making helpful comments, and that lesson would have been quite successful, if it hadn't been for you.
Yes, I mean you. You 4 or 5 women who sat in a little clump and held your own private conversation throughout the entire lesson. You weren't even trying to be subtle about it. You didn't even whisper. In fact, when your conversation became a persistent buzz, Kami tried to talk over you, and you just got louder! You women, who are my age and older, and who should really know better than to display such a blatant lack of common courtesy! Even if you were talking to each other about the lesson, why in the world could you not wait until after the lesson was over? Or, if it was that urgent, why didn't you go out into the hallway? There were people who actually wanted to listen to the lesson. And don't think Kami didn't notice what you were doing. I saw her glance in your direction more than once. She seemed to be pretty disheartened and flustered by your behavior. I was so close to turning around and openly "shushing" you, had I not been worried that such an act would have embarrassed Kami. So I kept my silence.
I said nothing, until I got to my mom's house for dinner and ranted about it to my mom and my sister. And then I came home and ranted about it to my husband. And now I'm ranting in a blog post, which I know full well that none of you will read, because you don't have the link to my blog. Consider this to be one of those letters that people write and never send to the person (or persons) in question. It's just a way for me to get my feelings down into words so I can move on.
I would just like to say this: Had I been the instructor, I would have not hesitated to pull one of 3 classic moves: 1) I would have stopped talking, and stared pointedly in your direction until you noticed and shut your face holes, 2) I would have called one of you by name, and asked if you had comments that you wanted to share with the class, and 3) I would have asked you to take your conversation out into the hallway. Sounds like high school, right? Well, apparently you all got caught up in some sort of "inconsiderate high school girl vortex" and only those high school teacher tactics would have had a chance of being effective.
I'm hoping that this was a one time occurrence, and that next week will be better for everyone. In fact, my hopes are pretty high because this is the first time that this has been a real problem. Oh sure, some people will get caught up in little conversations, or make comments to each other during the lesson, but they are usually whispered and brief. We're not perfect, no one is. But let's try a bit harder to keep it down from now on, shall we? I can't guarantee that I will be able to hold my silence if it happens again. No one wants that, right? Of course not. Thanks for understanding.
**End Rant**
Thursday, January 1, 2015
2015?!?!? Eh. Bring it on...
Well, I'm sure I'm not alone in my current state of shock. How in the world did 2015 get here so fast?
Sigh...Well I guess we'd better get on with it, right?
How was Christmas, you ask? It was good. Ty was sick the whole time, poor guy. But the chiddlers and I managed to get through the holidays unscathed. Well, mostly. I say I got through the holidays, but now that they're over, I'm starting to ail a bit. Sore throat, stuffy nose, all that fun stuff. Blah. I guess it's best that it happens now, rather than when I start going back to school in a week and a half. I'm doing what I can to help keep this thing from becoming too serious, but even with all of my tried and true methods, I'm still definitely under the weather. It sucks, but as I say, we'll get through it. I may be a bit cranky about it for a few days, but at least none of you have to listen to my whining. (You just get to read it. Ha!)
Good news! I got through both of my classes with A's, so apparently being sleep-deprived on Finals Day isn't always disastrous, though I wouldn't want to do it that way again. It was a very long day, and I haven't felt that crappy in a LONG time.
Okay, random comments:
Ty and I have recently been watching "The A-Team" on Netflix. It's been fun. I never watched it when it was actually on TV, so I've enjoyed taking that little trip down 1980's Memory Lane. Or at least I did for a while. We made it through the first season, and part way through the 2nd, when we could no longer ignore the fact that we were basically watching the exact same episode. Over and over and over and over again.
Someone's in trouble. They find the A-Team and hire them (usually for a lot less money than the A-Team normally charges for their services, but the prospective client's sob story is so very pitiful that Hannibal and his gang are always won over and agree to do the work anyway.) The MP's whine and moan about how much they want to catch the A-Team. They chase them down for a while, and flip at least 3 cars in the process.
The A-Team goes to some small, podonk town where they discover how the locals are being bullied and downtrodden by some egomaniac with a bunch of hired thugs and WAY too many guns at their disposal. Oh and a helicopter. There is ALWAYS a helicopter.
Hannibal goes in and challenges the Bad Guy Leader with some snarky comments, which starts a big fist fight. At first, things don't go so well, until B.A. comes busting through the door and starts throwing his bejeweled fists into people's faces. Once they've K.O.'ed all the bad guys, they head to the client's modest home, where there is always some pretty young woman who immediately starts exchanging googly eyes with Face. (They'll have made out at least once before the end of the episode.)
After a few gun fights with the Bad Guys, the A-Team hunkers down in some barn or warehouse, where they never fail to find absolutely everything that they could possibly need for the final showdown. Dynamite, corrugated steel, some sort of vehicle that they can cut apart and turn into an armored car, endless amounts of ammo, acetyline torches, and all the welding/soldering tools that B.A. could use in his lifetime.
The final showdown consists of the bad guys shooting their guns at the A-Team, never hitting anything. I think these guys are even worse than the infamously incompetent Storm Troopers. There are a lot of explosions. It's almost as though the Bad Guys' cars are made to explode, as all the A-Team really has to do is cough near those cars and they'll blow up in a spectacular display of fire and burning car. Once the showdown is over, the A-Team ties up the Bad Guys, and turns them over to the townspeople, who are suddenly capable of handling things on their own. Then the sound of sirens, and the A-Team looks down the road to see the MP's heading up the road. They promptly run to the ever-accessible helicopter, and Murdoch flies them to safety, as Hannibal chews on his ever-present cigar and taunts the MP's with another quippy insult. The MP's shake their fists at the A-Team. Then Hannibal sits back in his helicopter seat and says, "I love it when a plan comes together."
~Fin~
How did I do? Sound familiar? I've actually decided to compose a list. I shall call it:
"The 9 Always of the A-Team."
1) The Bad Guys are always going to be dumber than any member of the A-Team.
2) There is always a young woman somewhere for Face to...well...womanize.
3) B.A. always punches harder than any Bad Guy. Ever.
4)There is always a helicopter somewhere close by. Always.
5) Hannibal will always charge into a situation, head first, making all of his friends doubt him, but no matter how crazy the plan might seem, that plan will always come together. (If it didn't, he couldn't say his catch phrase!)
6) You will always see at least 5 flipped cars in each episode.
7) The MP's will always be about 3 steps behind the A-Team. Even when it seems they have caught them, don't worry, they haven't.
8) Murdoch will always come through, even when he thinks his sock is a talking dog, his contributions are always vital to success. Somehow.
9) Despite the fact that half of whatever small town they are in gets destroyed, the locals are always going to look with reverence at the A-Team and thank them for it.
10) You are always going to wonder how Hannibal's teeth manage to stay so white, when he smokes about 80 cigars a day.
Okay, random ramblings are over for now. There's a certain 5-year-old who needs to get to bed. And then I'm thinking I'll follow her example. I'm starting to feel pretty crappy. Stupid cold and flu season! Boo!
Sigh...Well I guess we'd better get on with it, right?
How was Christmas, you ask? It was good. Ty was sick the whole time, poor guy. But the chiddlers and I managed to get through the holidays unscathed. Well, mostly. I say I got through the holidays, but now that they're over, I'm starting to ail a bit. Sore throat, stuffy nose, all that fun stuff. Blah. I guess it's best that it happens now, rather than when I start going back to school in a week and a half. I'm doing what I can to help keep this thing from becoming too serious, but even with all of my tried and true methods, I'm still definitely under the weather. It sucks, but as I say, we'll get through it. I may be a bit cranky about it for a few days, but at least none of you have to listen to my whining. (You just get to read it. Ha!)
Good news! I got through both of my classes with A's, so apparently being sleep-deprived on Finals Day isn't always disastrous, though I wouldn't want to do it that way again. It was a very long day, and I haven't felt that crappy in a LONG time.
Okay, random comments:
Ty and I have recently been watching "The A-Team" on Netflix. It's been fun. I never watched it when it was actually on TV, so I've enjoyed taking that little trip down 1980's Memory Lane. Or at least I did for a while. We made it through the first season, and part way through the 2nd, when we could no longer ignore the fact that we were basically watching the exact same episode. Over and over and over and over again.
Someone's in trouble. They find the A-Team and hire them (usually for a lot less money than the A-Team normally charges for their services, but the prospective client's sob story is so very pitiful that Hannibal and his gang are always won over and agree to do the work anyway.) The MP's whine and moan about how much they want to catch the A-Team. They chase them down for a while, and flip at least 3 cars in the process.
The A-Team goes to some small, podonk town where they discover how the locals are being bullied and downtrodden by some egomaniac with a bunch of hired thugs and WAY too many guns at their disposal. Oh and a helicopter. There is ALWAYS a helicopter.
Hannibal goes in and challenges the Bad Guy Leader with some snarky comments, which starts a big fist fight. At first, things don't go so well, until B.A. comes busting through the door and starts throwing his bejeweled fists into people's faces. Once they've K.O.'ed all the bad guys, they head to the client's modest home, where there is always some pretty young woman who immediately starts exchanging googly eyes with Face. (They'll have made out at least once before the end of the episode.)
After a few gun fights with the Bad Guys, the A-Team hunkers down in some barn or warehouse, where they never fail to find absolutely everything that they could possibly need for the final showdown. Dynamite, corrugated steel, some sort of vehicle that they can cut apart and turn into an armored car, endless amounts of ammo, acetyline torches, and all the welding/soldering tools that B.A. could use in his lifetime.
The final showdown consists of the bad guys shooting their guns at the A-Team, never hitting anything. I think these guys are even worse than the infamously incompetent Storm Troopers. There are a lot of explosions. It's almost as though the Bad Guys' cars are made to explode, as all the A-Team really has to do is cough near those cars and they'll blow up in a spectacular display of fire and burning car. Once the showdown is over, the A-Team ties up the Bad Guys, and turns them over to the townspeople, who are suddenly capable of handling things on their own. Then the sound of sirens, and the A-Team looks down the road to see the MP's heading up the road. They promptly run to the ever-accessible helicopter, and Murdoch flies them to safety, as Hannibal chews on his ever-present cigar and taunts the MP's with another quippy insult. The MP's shake their fists at the A-Team. Then Hannibal sits back in his helicopter seat and says, "I love it when a plan comes together."
~Fin~
How did I do? Sound familiar? I've actually decided to compose a list. I shall call it:
"The 9 Always of the A-Team."
1) The Bad Guys are always going to be dumber than any member of the A-Team.
2) There is always a young woman somewhere for Face to...well...womanize.
3) B.A. always punches harder than any Bad Guy. Ever.
4)There is always a helicopter somewhere close by. Always.
5) Hannibal will always charge into a situation, head first, making all of his friends doubt him, but no matter how crazy the plan might seem, that plan will always come together. (If it didn't, he couldn't say his catch phrase!)
6) You will always see at least 5 flipped cars in each episode.
7) The MP's will always be about 3 steps behind the A-Team. Even when it seems they have caught them, don't worry, they haven't.
8) Murdoch will always come through, even when he thinks his sock is a talking dog, his contributions are always vital to success. Somehow.
9) Despite the fact that half of whatever small town they are in gets destroyed, the locals are always going to look with reverence at the A-Team and thank them for it.
10) You are always going to wonder how Hannibal's teeth manage to stay so white, when he smokes about 80 cigars a day.
Okay, random ramblings are over for now. There's a certain 5-year-old who needs to get to bed. And then I'm thinking I'll follow her example. I'm starting to feel pretty crappy. Stupid cold and flu season! Boo!
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