A Gift From My Boy...

Mister Mischief: Here mommy, I have something for you.

Places something hard and slightly ball shaped in the palm of my hand

Me: Hey thanks bud. What is it?

Mister Mischief: It's a snot.

Sure enough, upon careful, but not TOO careful, examination I discovered that my lovey little 3 year old had placed a dried up booger in my hand.

Just for safe keeping.

Or to throw away.

Or to proudly display (or publicly announce on blog) to the world...

This, ladies and gentlemen is true love. To hold anothers dried up booger in your hand, give them a love, and not vomit.

Estrogen Stinks...

"I haven't had time to get to the gym in a while... so I've lost 10 lbs... SUCKS!"

Awe shucks.. I wish this was a problem I have to deal with. Nope, this is not a quote from me. It is not a quote from any women I know. This is a non-specific quote form any non-specific man in the free world that you or I may or may not know.

MEN SUCK.

Truly. I am seriously trying to figure out how and why our misguided society came to have the body image standards that we have today. Men (okay, ALOT if not MOST men) struggle to keep the poundage ON. They eat what they want. They live on french fries, Mountain Dew and the occasional protein shake (when they are trying to be "supportive of YOUR "I wanna fit into my pre-baby... or at least your pregnancy #1 "fat pants" diet.") They go to the gym to "bulk up". When they don't make it to the gym they get "scrawny" and have to start over. But society has decided that a scrawny male is not considered "ideal".

WOmen eat triscuit crackers and string cheese. We do 7 day "cleanses" where we drink only concoctions of cranberry juice, protein powder and toilet bown cleaner (or whatever your cleanse of choice calls for). We run. We go to the gym. We work as hard as we can... AND THAT DARN GHETTO BOOTY STAYS PUT. You work out for 3 months just to start seeing results. We miss a day at the, and we get "larger" and have to start over. Once again... society has decided that woman are more "ideal" when they are anorexic... at least by Hollywood standards.

Okay, is it just me or is something awry here? Is it just the whole, "grass is greener complex?" If women had to work hard not to be scrawny would the "ideal image" be different?

I know I am a pretty petite girl, I do not subscribe to any of the crazy cleanses, and I am not complaining about the way I look. But I do have to work at it in order to fit into my "ideal size" pants. Just this morning I had a hard time zipping up my pants and may or may not have considered drinking some cranberry juice and toilt bown cleaner. BUT I really am tired of hearing of so many people truly hurting themselves trying to trim themselves down more and more.

Why can't we be happy where we are at?

And why can't icecream make you lose weight.

And how come OUR bodies can't decimate calories before they hit our esophogus like the mens do?

Stop and Smell the Dirty Sneakers

Ummmm... we just bought these sneakers a couple of weeks ago and they already REEEEEK... is that normal? Should I be worried that my son has come down with some killer alien fungus that is going to turn his blood green and make him eternally smell like moldy cheese?

My baby started preschool today. It doesn't seem possible that he is old enough for me to drop him off at someones house and pick him up 3 hours later with his head jam packed with mind blowing knowledge... such as how to trace the letter A and the name of his table neighbor... who is now his "BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD" I really wasn't sad for this day. Truthfully, I have looked forward to it for a while. For him AND me. I can't tell you how many crazy days I've had where my kids are chasing each other around screaming, crashing any item within their reach into the walls, and smearing themselves with the cream/condiment/makeup item of choice that I've thought..."I CAN'T WAIT FOR THEM TO START SCHOOL SO I CAN HAVE SOME TIME TO MYSELF!" Now that time is here for one of my little ones.

It's a little bittersweet.

I think my whole life has been this way. In high school I just couldn't WAIT to graduate. If I could just make it to graduation day THEN life will be perfect and I can sit back and enjoy it. Then I graduate and enter the "oh so fun" world of serious dating... seriously NOT FUN dating... and I thought, "If I could just get married, THEN life will be perfect and I can sit back and enjoy it." I got married what do you think happened as I was sitting at my desk PRETENDING to work? Yep, "If I could just have a baby and be a mommy...THEN..." you know the drill.

Motherhood has been the ultimate goal of my entire life. It is the best thing I have ever done and I FINALLY feel like I am doing what I was meant to do... instead of feeling like I am going through the motions to get to the point when I find my calling.

So NOW life is perfect and I can sit back and enjoy it... right? Ideally. But we as humans have a bad habit of looking ahead too often so that we miss some of the precious moments in the NOW. "I wish I could hit fast forward and get to the point where the baby sleeps through the night" "When is he/she going to crawl?!" "I will be so glad when he/she can walk so I dont' have to carry them anymore." "I CAN'T WAIT for them to start preschool! I need a couple of hours to myself!"

Have you ever noticed, however, that in retrospect you miss those moments? That first time the baby sleeps through the night is a little sad... they don't need you at night anymore. You miss them when they go to school even for a couple of hours.

I've noticed that each stage comes with it's own set of challenges. Our current challenge at our house right now is Mister Mischief reverting back to baby talk every once in a while.... why is that so IRRITATING?! I want to pull my hair out sometimes... and at the same time i can't help but slip back into the old... "Oh, if we could just get past this stage, life will be soooo much easier!" Unfortunately when you graduate from one hard stage, the next is always immensly better... but the challenges seem to increase in intensity as well. And in the mean time I am missing how lovey he can be at this stage... it's not going to be cool to snuggle with mommy forever you know!

So, I guess I'll just try to slow down and enjoy the stinky little boy sneakers... I'd rather them be stinky and filled with a sometimes frustrating mischievious little rascal.. than to not be there at all.

In the mean time.... any suggestions to rid those addorable mini Adidas' of the stench of death?!

Embrace

I had a very emotional weekend. Emotional in a good way that is... I think... time will tell I guess.

I have been thinking a lot about the video I posted about on my last post. If you haven't watched it yet, please do. There is a picture included in that video of Christ and John the Baptist in the River Jordan. John the Baptist has just baptized the Savior and they are embracing. The thing that moves me to tears every time is the look on both of their faces. Huge grins. Although it is only a painting, you can feel how tightly they are holding onto each other. You can feel the electricity of their joy. And you know without words why they are happy. They are beginning the Fathers work. There just aren't words that can describe such a moment. That is why I love that painting so much. All of the emotions I feel about our Fathers plan and the Saviors atonement all wrapped up in an embrace of two "brothers".

I am not sure if there is doctrine to support that such an embrace took place, but I imagine it did. And the truly inspirational part of such an embrace of love and joy is that The Savior knew that this was the first step toward what would be a difficult journey. He knew how this path would end here on this earth. But He also knew how this path would end in the Eternal scheme of things. He knew that though it would lead to His eventual torure and death... it would ultimately lead to life eternal, not just for Him but for His brothers and sisters. He knew that He was beginning the process of erasing hopelessness and doom from the life of mankind. He knew that He was starting down a path that would show each of us the way Home. He loved His eternal family enough that He rejoiced when He come out of the waters of baptism and started us all on our way back to Him. I feel like we were all there, rejoicing right along with Him. Embracing each other and grinning.

How I love our Savior. I know because I am only a mortal, my ability to love is extremely limited and pales in comparison to what He must feel for us. I get a little taste of it when I look at my children. They give me a tiny taste of what it is like to love another more than myself. Even when they are naughty. Even when they "don't like me" for a moment. Even when they go back to Heaven before I get a chance to say hello. Every day I feel like the veil is pulled back a tiny bit more and I am able to grasp a little more of the eternal expanse that is our Saviors love for us. Then life gets crazy, my kids get LOUD, I get loud and I fall back a step again and have to reclaim that last few inches of my peak into His love.

I do want anyone that happens to come across this to know that I know that our Redeemer lives. I know it. I know it without a shadow of a doubt. And I know it because I have asked God, and He has told me. He has told me that all of it is true. That the Bible is His instructions to us, as is The Book of Mormon. We have prophets that lead us today. I have many friends of many different faiths and I love you all. I believe that there is truth in every religion. But I know that I have found the fullness of the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints. It's all there. You don't have to sift through anything and find what you like and determine if the truth outweighs the theory. I cannot say that I understand it all. There would be no point to me being here if I knew everything. But, I feel it in my heart that this is where I will find everything the Lord wants me to know and this church is my pathway to returning to Him. You don't have to believe it. You don't have to "subscribe" to it. It's definitely a personal answer for each of us to receive. But I can tell you that if you ask Him... He will tell you too.

So knowing all this, can we too smile and embrace in joy while facing some of our worst fears? It's not always easy, but I believe it is possible when we look to our Saviors example and focus on the Eternal scheme of things, instead of the short term pain, fear and sorrow.

What do you think?

Reflections of Christ

I'm feeling a bit sentimental today, and the following video didn't help.

If you have a moment, start your weekend off by watching this video. If you don't have a moment make one.

Life is about having fun and enjoying every moment of it. But there is also a much bigger picture that we are working towards, we have so much more to look forward to than just the momentarily gratifying moments we have on this earth. I hope we can all take some time to thank our Savior for making that possible.

http://mabrystudios.typepad.com/reflections_of_christ/2008/03/reflections-sli.html

Have a good weekend everyone!

Beautiful Baby Bumps

Isn't the pregnant belly a beautiful thing? It represents the ultimate miricle of nature. Beneath this womans pale white skin is a new life. Another human (...hopefully..) grown out of almost nothing. A pure little spirit about to leave the arms of our Father in Heaven and join us in the wonderful chaos of life. This tiny little person moves free of any outside forces. It stretches, yawns, throws in the occasional jab... even flips you off... sometimes... [Maybe I'm the only one that ate too much spicy mexican food during my last pregnancy earning that little "one fingered salute of love". ] Let's admit it, pregnancy isn't always the most comfortable experience. Your body turns into an alien host body. Your little invader causes cankles, sleepless nights, nonexistant bladder space and 40... okay 50+ lbs to myseriously appear in places you didn't know you had "fat pockets". But it's all worth it isn't it? Definitely. And while you are drowing in a body full of retained water and excess blubber... and who knows what else... it is hard to swallow the term, "cute little preggo lady" (btw.. does the term preggo make anyone else want to vomit? I usually use it when I'm typing because who has the time to type pregn... oh nevermind... but seriously... it's a title for spaghetti sauce, not a unborn child shrine.) Anyway, I know when I am pregnant I don't feel beautiful, but I want to tell all of you out there....You ARE beautiful. ENJOY your baby bumps. APPRECIATE them for the miricle that they are. I sure miss mine sometimes... although I'm not ready to go there again. I don't miss being "fat", or crying uncontrollably when I can't seem to force that stupid button into it's dumb button hole, or "the waddle". But I do miss the feeling of feeling a life I created moving around inside of me. I think there is nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman.

That said... I have a confession to make...

I beat up a pregnant woman a couple weeks ago.

Yes you read that right.

Never mess with a woman at a bunco game. I don't care if you are pregnant, wear glasses, or are in a wheel chair with a missing foot. If you get in the way of my bunco dice and subsequent extra 15 bonus points... I WILL take you down. To the floor. Claws out.

We're still friends I think. She survived. Her unborn child survived. I almost didn't.... she put up a good fight...

Mei... if he comes out with a missing foot or something... I'll refund you your 15 bonus points next time we play.

And you can have Mister Mischief....

Have I mentioned I think you're beautiful...?

I don't think you can go to Heaven if you beat up a pregnant lady can you? Guess I may as well start enjoying life eh?! Pass me something I'm not supposed to consume please.

umm... p.s. thanks for outing me Q. Thanks a lot.

Follow Your Dreams..?

My son wants to wear a unitard.

Whew, it was a relief... if not... um... weird... to get that off my chest.

But really.

We took a little trip to a kids gym this weekend. The kids had a blast. They jumped on the trampoline, slid down a slide into a pit of plastic balls and swung from rings suspended from the ceiling. And... my son found he has a natural affinity for doing this...

Future Olympian?

Not if his daddy has anything to say about it.

What is it about sports involving tights/spandex/unitards that kind of make men squirm?

We say we want our children to chase after their dreams... as long as they are in sync with ours.

My husbands chest would puff out in pride every time my son begged daddy to take him to the driving range. His eyes would fill up with tears as our son picked up such phrases as, "whoa dad, I bombed that drive! or "Hole in one!" or MY personal favorite... "that was a crap shot" And dear dad would curl in a fetal position (thumb in mouth with his pointer finger curled around his nose) sobbing with pride when Little Mister, in response to the question, "Who's your favorite golfer" exclaimed, "My daddy!"

Can life get any better than this? Your 3 year old son out driving teenagers and following after YOUR dream without any prodding from you? I submit that it cannot. It's easy at these moments to arrogantly announce to others that you should let your childrens wings unfurl and chase after whatever dream they have. Who are we as parents to determine the path our children take? If we but set a good example for them, our children will follow in our footsteps. They will be productive members of our community. They will be successful. They will make lots of money and provide mommy and daddy with a very comfortable retirement on the beaches of barbedos... what?

Okay, but what happens when previously gifted child prodigy extraordinaire changes those dreams and his new dreams involve a unitard, uneven bars and a unitard. That word alone gives me chills. If my child is going to wear one someday, we must come up with a more politically correct term for it... how about uni-developmentally disabled.

Much better.

But seriously, we would be jumping up and down if our daughter wanted to be a gymnist or a ballet dancer. Either of those sports (and yes, I would consider them sports because of the huge amount of talent, coordination, and athleticism that go into them) are respectable. I would LOVE to see Kobe hold himself parallel to the ground while suspended from rings hanging from the ceiling. Paul Hamm could take Kobe anyday!

So why would my husband (and lets face it, probably me too) probably get the bum chills if our son did take on one of these as his sport of choice?

Two words: the unitard

Can you imagine Tiger Woods winning the Masters cup in one? Although, lets be honest... poses like this:

were made for a man sporting tights.

Come to think of it, a lot of other sports would be pretty darn entertaining if their participants were dressed in a unitard...

I know I'd watch 'em...

What do you think?

Cash to burn?!

Still waiting for new name suggestions...

Okay, so, do you ever come across EXTRA money that you are free to spend without any guilt, remourse, "you shoulda paid the eletric bill" regret?

Yeah, me either (or is it neither? Would someone PLEASE tell me!)

But if you did, your mind would be spinning with the possibilities... a sexy pair of killer pumps (that probably WILL eventually lead to your demise), a new purse, 10 gallons of icecream (you know it's crossed your mind). You would go crazy knowing that money is sitting in your wallet begging to be freed and thereby add to your collection of "stuff"... eventually gathering dust in your closet. (unless you went the icecream way like me.. in that case EWE!) Anyway, if that was the case you would appropriately say that money was BURNING A HOLE IN YOUR POCKET right?!

Well, I saw an iddy bitty little woman of Tawainese descent today taking this phrase slightly too literally.

I pulled up to a little strip mall to get my daughters hair cut (sadly, the mullet look is no longer "in" and I can't pull it off as "long hair" anymore. Plus, she likes to see. Her "bangs" were no longer allowing that option.). Next to the Dollar Cuts (only the best for my little mullet queen) is a nail salon with the tiny little Tawainese woman sitting out front with a little "bonfire" in a tin container. This looked odd, but what do I know? My kid has had a mullet for several months. I'm not the "social acceptance" committee. But I looked closer and saw what she was feeding the fire with...

$1 bills. What the?

Okay, it's only $1... but one after another after another. She was savoring each bill. She would dip it in the container and let the flames lick at the bill until it caught hold of it. She would then hold it by the corner and watch it burn until it was about halfway through then she'd toss it in and start on the next.

Okay, I've heard of having money to burn... but this is ridiculous. I can think of plenty of causes you can throw your "garbage money" at... my "Mommy needs new stuffing for her gym sock-esque deflated boobies fund" is at the top fo that list. Feel free to make your own contribution by the way. Email me and I'll give you the details.

What? You say you DO have money burning a hole in your pocket begging you to throw it at the first vendor to get in your face? What? You need a sexy new pair of designer jeans, but don't have $500 burning a hole in your old ones? Click here friend Des has an inventory of AUTHENTIC designer jeans that she is clearancing out right now. She'll give you a good deal.

Did I mention I could use a little "nipping and tucking"? It's amazing what 3 children can do you your body.

What do you think about "fixing what nature (and gravity)" has taken away?

The Mommy Formerly Known As...

Don't you just love Prince?

I mean

or The Artist Formally Known as Prince

or The Artist

Anyone that is known all at the same time by one name, 4 names or just a symbol is truly cool.

Well, I'm pretty sure I could never pull off a purple velvet suit, but my kids think I'm pretty dang cool... on the days I can't take the whining and give in and let them have a cookie before dinner that is.

That said, in order to stay in league with the Hollywood elite, I think it is time to reinvent myself. "Stay at Home Mommy" just isn't an accurate title. It implies that I sit at home all day. With no other explanation that title screams, "I have so much extra time on my hands and have nothing better to do than sit on my computer all day spewing off nonsense." What'? It's not TOTALLY true.

So I have come up with some more appropriate titles:

Confessions of a Monkey Trainer/ Lunch Lady/ Household CEO

Confessions of a Housekeeper/ Chauffer/ Stagemom

Confessions of a Midget War Diplomat

Confessions of a Raw Egg Juggler

After all.... there is no resume that can compare to that of a mothers, whether you work from home or work in an office. I juggle 4 schedules (since WHEN does an 18 month old have a schedule?!), I cook, clean, bathe mud infested children, wipe doody off bums, I gather quotes for every imaginable thing that can and does break in our house, the responsibility of my childrens education scholastically and spiritually rests on my shoulders.... I (like every other "stay at home mommy") run my own little business I could go on and on and on... and feel free to add to my list in the comments section.

Being a mom is hard work, but I'm not feeling entirely creative today... sooo... I want YOU who actually read this to give me a new name.

What do you think? What is an appropriate description of what we, as mothers that quit working in an office to work at home, do every day?

If I use your suggestion I will send you a little prize! :)

btw.... did I mention I just started my own little BUSINESS? Click here to check it out:

yes... once again a blatant commercialization of an otherwise worthless blog.

Hi-ya

Do you ever have one of those days where you just have nothing interesting to say? I have those everyday you say? Then why are you reading this? I don't blame you. It's like a train wreck, it's horrific but you just can't make yourself look away.

If you are still reading this (and if you are you must be having the same type of day I did) I'll give you a few more minutes to waste before you have to scale the mountain range of laundry , attack the dusty plant shelves that have been on your "to do" list for months, or attend to the screaming children that have torn your house apart in an attempt to win your attention as you've been blog hopping for the past 3 hours. We really should be friends.

For those of you that may not be full time mommy's that may or may not think that the life of a stay at home mom is either:

A. BO-RING I would poke my eyes out with a spoon if I had your mundane life.

or

B. Sweet! Sign me up for hanging out on the couch in my robe all day nibbling on bon bons.

Hey... being a full time mom is a full time job thank you very much. And it does have it's exciting moments like... strategically walking out to the mailbox hiding behind one tree or bike at a time so none of your neighbors can see that you are still in your jammies at 3:00 in the afternoon. Or how about trips to the grocery store with two little kids? Ever tried that?! Definitely NOT mundane... unless you consider... narrowly avoiding being clubbed to death with a zucchini by disgruntled old woman (who has had it with your kids whining too)... mundane.

But today, I topped them all. I gave Bond a run for his money... only without all the cool gizmos (I really need to get my hands on a semi-automatic ball point pen or remote control lamborghini, that would make my stories SO MUCH cooler).

I lived on the edge. I went out of my comfort zone. I boldly went where no girl in MY family has ever gone...

I canned pears.

Okay... I stood around visiting with my sister in law (LOOKING very helpful I might add) wilst SHE canned our pears.

Yes, I know, I make YOUR life look mundane. If you want to join my world, take a trip to Walmart and take on the crazy zucchini lady. That can be your initiation, or hazing if you will, into my world.

How cool is the train wreck now?!

When you become a parent your capacity to love explodes beyond the boundaries of what the human body is capable of. Suddenly there is this loud, stinky, tiny little person that thinks you were put on this earth to serve their every need. And you agree. Who would have thought, back in the good old teen years, that someone elses needs would suddenly become more important than your own. All of the sudden you have this innate need to do whatever is best for your child. You would throw yourself in front of a semi to save that childs life. You would give them the remaining 7/8 of your sandwhich when they have cleaned their own plate and are still hungry. You would wipe their snotty nose with your bare fingers because you don't have a tissue handy and the poor thing is miserable. There is nothing you wouldn't do for your children, no matter what it costs you.

But Do you ever have those selfish moments when you wish you could have something that wouldn't be in their best interest, but would suit you pretty well? I want my children to grow up and have happy lives. I've had happy times in my life, but nothing compares to the overwhelming joy my own husband and family give me. I want my kids to experience that too. But sometimes I have a selfish mommy moment.

Do they have to grow up?

Do I really have to let my son go to kindergarted? Alone? Without his mommy? Even worse, do I really have to let him leave the country for 2 years to serve a mission in a place where people will be mean to him and he could be hurt? and where I can't give him loves every night?!

Do I seriously have to let my little girl get married someday? Is it unavoidable that someday I "give" her over to some guy to take care of? some guy that is probably 4 or 5 years old right now?! THAT guy I am going to have to trust with one of my most precious blessings?!

Did my little angel REALLY have to go back to heaven? I know that where she is right now is a much better place than this imperfect world we live in... but couldn't she just come stay with me if I promise to lock her up in the house and never let her go out where anyone could ever hurt her? I would be perfectly content to sit and snuggle her all day long.

Yes. I guess the answer to those questions is a resounding yes. But even as my 3 year old was yelling to me this afternoon that I was "stupid" for making him take a nap. Even as I am picking up my bomb of a house. Even as I was lugging two cranky toddlers around the store this morning only halfway through my errands only to realize that Little Missy had gone "you know what" in her pants.... I couldn't help but think... can we just freeze time for a bit?

I get caught up much too often in just trying to get through a day or a moment. I think, "Ugh... is it naptime yet?!" Life does get overwhelming at times. But then I stop for a moment and realize how fast time is flying and I panic. Am I wishing to fly through the chaotic moments so much that I am missing the precious one? How many times do we scream at our kids all day and then go in to check on them at night and just stare at their perfect little dreaming faces and think, "What have I done? I've wasted one more day with these perfect little angels that I am blessed to have" Of course it is easier to have these moments of appreciation staring at the peaceful face of a sleeping child than it is when you are gazing lovingly at the furious purple face of your little cherub as he/she is floundering on the floor in a temper tantrum of epic proportions.

I guess I just need to remind myself how fragile and how sacred life really is. How every day really is a gift from our Heavenly Father. I've learned this first hand. It was easy right after my sweet little daughter went back to heaven to enjoy the tender mercies of each day with my children. To remain thankful for my children even when they were about to bring down the house. But as I have healed and have gotten back to "every day life" I find myself not appreciating the little things as much as I should.

That said, please humor me as I share something about each child that I love, to remind myself of how precious they are and how overwhelmingly the scale tips down to the floor in favor of the good times outweighing the naughty/hectic/tired/cranky/aaaaahhhh moments.

Mister Mischief is my best buddy. He knows how to push buttons, but he also knows just the right moment to flash me one of his turn me to mush grins or give me a "giant dinosaur hug." He is the most loving little boy I have ever met.

Miss Thang is my little clown and my snuggle bunny. Her diva attitude definitely lives up to her nickname, but she also knows when to turn on the charm. She has her own little "jokes" and funny faces and can make me laugh no matter what mood I'm in.

My little Angel I never got to "know" her outside of my tummy but I love her just the same. She was a very mellow baby, she never bruised my ribs doing summersalts like the other two did, but she had some spunk. She would cover her face when we were trying to get a good look at her during my monthly ultrasounds and she even gave us the old one finger salute one time. She has taught me what an amazing gift the love of a mother is. It is one that is sent from God and has no conditions or limitations. I don't get to hold her now, but she gives me something to look forward to on the day that I have to leave the rest of my family here on earth for a time.

What do you love most about your kids/family?

Aspirations with a side of children...

Okay, everyone else is doing it so I guess I'm going to jump on the "lets judge Sarah Palin boat" just for a minute.

It seems everyone has an opinion, including people like me who have never been incredibly involved on the political front.

In all honesty when she was first announced as John McCains running mate and the details of her family life started being revealed I thought, "Who is this horrible mother? She just had a baby with special needs, she has a teenage daughter that is about to become a mother herself [I was 25 when I had my first baby and I needed my mommy. I can't imagine what it must be like at 17!] and this woman is focused on forwarding her career." Yes, it is narrow minded and judgemental and I am not proud to admit that when I don't keep myself in check I can be very quick to judge.

I have to admit, during her speech at the Republican Convention she won me over. Yes, it is characteristic of a good politician that they be good BSers and talk a good talk, but she is intelligent, she has spunk, and as I have done more and more research on the things she accomplished as Governor of Alaska she's qualified enough to act as an "agent to the president".

In short, I like Sarah Palin. Based on the things she says she would do in her term as VP I would vote for her.

When I vote, I try to do it based on what the candidate will do for our country, not on their personal life. Although, from a religious point of view, I really would like to have the Lord backing up the presiding authority of our country so no child molesters or murderers please.

Putting aside who you think should be running our country I want to know what my friends think of the personal aspect of this. I am not saying that anyone is a bad parent, and I want to be clear when I say that there is more than one RIGHT way to be a good parent.

I also think that it is very important for a parent to keep their sense of self. When you lose yourself behind the title of mommy or daddy you lose a little bit of your ability to dedicate all the time you have with your children to what THEY need. I think they also need a good example of finding out who you really are as a person.

BUT has the world taken this too far? What is the dividing line between taking care of your needs and going after your passions, even helping other people, and taking care of your number one responsibility: your family. I'm not just talking about women, I'm talking about men AND women. The family seems to be taking a back seat lately. More and more celebrities are deciding they want to have children. Of course they don't want to give up the lifestyle they are accustomed to, so they all have nannies. Politicians do it too, men and women enter the office of extreme responsibility to their community. I don't think that's necissarily a bad thing, but lets ask this question: when a crisis comes up at home and in the community you are responsible for who has to take a back seat.

When you decide to take on a career like politics, you realize that you and your family will have to make some sacrifices. That is a decision for individuals to make. Sarah Palins husband can stay home with the kids, or they can hire a nanny, but what about moments when you just need your mom? Anyone that has lost their mother would tell you that there are times when no one else can fill that void. You learn to deal with it as an adult, but children need their mothers. Call me sexist, call me old fashioned, but I think that it is a God given gift to women. We go through the "joys" of pregnancy and childbirth and in return we get a bond with each child that cannot be replaced by anyone... nanny or daddy.

I think the decisions that other people make for their own families are none of anyone elses business... until it starts to affect the rest of the community. Until the celebrity children that have been raised by nanny's so their parents can chase after their own dreams start driving drunk and hurting people, or eat up our tax dollars sitting in their private jail cell. These children we are raising won't be children forever. They are the future leaders of our country. I don't know about you, but I would really like this world we live in to be a safe place for my chilren and my childrens children when a nurse is changing my diapers and wiping drool off my chin.

I am not against working moms. Some people need to do it for money. Others need to do it because they enjoy it. It is a personal decision and one of the great blessings we were given when we came to this earth is that of agency.

My question to you, however, is how far can we chase our own dreams before it starts affecting the LIVES of our children. (and YES this question is for moms AND dads). And do you think that timing is an ussue, do you think parents should put BIG dreams on hold while their kids are in their formative years if that dream is going to take them away from their family a lot.

Sisters are built in Best Friends!

They are also built in sibling humility level regulators. They are put on this earth to make sure that we have the perfect balance of fun adventures and I want to crawl under a rock and DIE moments in our formative years, lest we grow up to have ginormous heads and think we are indestructable

And have any form of self esteem.

Oh, I have piles of evidence to back up this theory... and lest you doubt me, I am about to share one such experience.

It wa s 5th grade. You remember that dreaded year: the year of the maturation program....AAAAAAHHHH. Every preteen girls worst nightmare. A whole hour or more of talking about bodily secretions, blossoming bousoms, and the dreaded S word. Uuuuugh. And just to add a cherry to the top of this humiliation sundae... they invite your mother.... who is alternating between putting her arm around you and squeezing more blood into your already bursting at the seems beet red face telling you how proud she is of you, and blubbering uncontrollably because she "can't believe how fast her baby is growing up".

Somebody shoot me. It's already such an awkward age, and it is mortifying to a 5th grader to have their mother address the fact that their body is changing. It's even more mortifying when your body is not changing, and your mother is still blubbering because it's going to happen so soon and that will hail the coming of you leaving her forever... now you know it's all eyes on you watching for these changes that may or may not come to your awkward late blooming body.

I was one such late bloomer.

Lucky for me my mom couldn't make it to maturation. Siiiiggggghhhhh of relief. I had the worlds most supportive mom. She was at every single elementary school program, parent teacher conference and neighborhood dance recital. I don't remember why she couldn't make it, but I do remember how bad she felt and how she promised she'd make it up to me....and how I actually PRAYED to thank the Lord that she wouldn't be there.

I sat through that mortifying event snickering at my poor friends as they wiggled uncomfortably in their mothers grasp praying for death to swallow them whole. Ha ha... I had avoided one of the ultimate humiliations.

Little did I know what fate had in store for me via my evil, plotting little imp of a sister.

My sister [we'll call her pug bug, since that was my nick name for her growing up that would ignite her to to the point of volcanic explosion...] seemed so sweet and innocent to the ignorant by stander. But underneath that facade of perfection lurked diablo himself. She was notorious for pulling pranks and was always on the lookout for the perfect opportunity to ruin my life. Well... you can see where this is going...

I came home from school gloating at my motherless maturation program victory that day. I was just about to head out to a blissful afternoon of whatever the heck 5th graders do when my mom called for everyone to come into the bathroom.

Uh oh... that can't be good...

As my two sisters and I sauntered into the bathroom I noticed she was holding the cabinet next to the toilet open and she was staring at me with that "your moment has come" "I'm so proud of you" preteen nervousness/humiliation vomit inducing grin on her face.

Then she held up a package of "feminine napkins". She announced, "Now girls this is for Sarah, so no one else touch them. Sarah, honey, when you need these they are right here. When the time comes come get me and I will show you how to use them." She was about to cry. Kill me now. Seriously, just shoot me.

And then I looked over at my evil 3rd grader sister and I really wanted to dieShe had this exact grin on her face:

Then the Grinch got an idea... an AWEFUL idea. The Grinch got a WONDERFUL, AWEFUL idea.

I could see her plotting and I knew something bad was coming. But I ran along to my friends house anyway, hoping that if I pretended a catastrophe wasn't coming, it would naturally be averted.

Well, my cherubic little sister was a lot more intelligent than her tiny little midget body would suggest. She saw the horrified look on my face, and she saw the tears shining in my proud mothers eyes. She could also read minds and could tell how I was dreading that moment that I actually had to open that box of feminine napkins, not because of the cramps, or the bodily secretions or the impending adulthood. Because of the scene that would come from my mom at the announcement of her daughters confirmed womanhood.

What else would a 3rd grade spawn of the devil do but exploit such a situation?

Mom went down to do the laundry. Pug Bug immediately ran to the bathroom, ripped open the dreaded package and removed a feminine napkin. How do you induce hysteric tears of joy and dread in your mother? You add ketchup (or catsup if you live in Canada) to a maxi pad and leave the blunt evidence in the garbage can for said unsuspecting mother to find.

Pug Bug was giggling as she hid in the closet waiting for the scene when my mother would find the "bloody" pad in the garbage and therefor ruin my life forever with her hysterics.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

For 5 whole minutes... which is 5 years in 3rd grader time. She couldn't wait. The neighbors dog was waiting to be tormented, but she couldn't miss this scene. She'd have to help it along. So she decided to put the pad in a more obvious place, one where my mother couldn't miss it and send her up.

She ran downstairs and turned up the drama a notch and exclaimed to my mother, "Mom! Sarah started her period! I found a used pad upstairs! Hurry!" Well, of course my mom went running! She couldn't miss this maturation milestone! She ran upstairs to the bathroom and found no sign of me or the evidence of my "condition". She said, "I don't see anything." Pug Bug said, "No mom! In here!" My mom walked into the kitchen and found it: a ketchup covered maxi pad strategically placed on the kitchen counter.

My sister got spanked. I told all her friends not to like her. And years later I still call her Pug Bug.

I think we're even now.

What's your worst sibling humiliation story?!

ps.... yes, I fully intend to make my daughter vomit with humiliation when she "becomes a woman" it's only fair...

RIP Petey

Petey

September 3, 2008 1:00pm-September 4, 2008 1:00pm

Our sweet Petey passed away today due to the natural affects of old age. He was 24 hours old [240 years in goldfish years].

Petey was a very happy little goldfish and was very pleasant to be around. He never complained when his little plastic "transportation" bag was shaken by a sugar crazed 3 year old. Never a word he spoke when his attempts to sleep were foiled by two little [gargantuine to Petey] noses were pressed up against the glass of his tank fogging up the glass and possibly leaving behind a little something else in the process. And never once did he whine about breathing in the same water in which he relieved himself. No, Petey was a good fish. He provided his family with abounding love, kindness, and comic relief (when he relieved himself in front of them of course...) He enjoyed travelling and saw many sites during the course of his day as he travelled from Walmart to his new home. He had been planning a trip to Paris in the fall [perhaps his family should take that trip for him... out of respect and in the name of his memory of course] Yes, he lived a good full life and now moves on to Goldfish Heaven.

Petey was preceeded in death by the love of his life, his companion, Goldy (she paved the way for him 5 hours before him). He is survived by his adoptive Mommy and Daddy, brother Mister Mischief, and sister Miss Thang.

Petey was buried at sea today in a private ceremony of only close friends and family. This is the way he would have wanted it.

In leiu of flowers, the family is accepting monetary donations in Peteys name. Please feel free to be generous.

Little Mousies

Okay, I'm going to cheat a little today and use a story that I posted on my regular family blog. Partly because I think it's a funny story, partly because I want to hear what everyone else has to say about the topic I'm about to bring up. But mostly because I just spent the first hour and a half of my kids nap time showing the AC repair guy around and receiving a thorough schooling on the intricacies of the modern cooling system.... which may or may not have gone in one ear and out the other as I was daydreaming about the chocolate dipped mint creamies waiting for me in the freezer and how I was running out of time to eat one before my little cupcakes woke up.

Sooooo I think it has definitely been determined that I am a certified blog stalker... er hopper. Hey, you admitted you are too. And if you didn't admit it and you are reading this right now repeat after me.... I am a blog stalker. Very good. It's always much better when you get past the acceptance stage.

Well, I have a pretty good rule for myself. If I get all my stuff done in the morning meaning house is cleaned, dishes put away, bed made, and I am properly bathed then the glorious three hours that my children sleep in the afternoon is MINE to do with as I please. And it just so happens that it so pleases me to take a dip and surf the net. Usually I spend most of the time posting on my own blogs, but I like tokeep up with what others are up to too.

But we've already covered this subject.

Before my children discovered the infinite bliss that is Super Why, I used to enjoy a nice helping of the morning news with my bowl of cereal. Now that I no longer have my morning news to stimulate me in the morning (and am a Mormon, and therefor coffee is off limits) my side dish of choice is a quick dose of blog I read up on my favorite dailies such as Mrs Dubb then quickly check to see if anyone else has updated. I'm done before my little piggies finish their first (yes...first...I'm afraid we may be right up there with ethanol gas in driving up corn prices with the amount of cereal we consume in our household) The rest of the morning belongs to my little piglets and my chores. The computer is put away.

Well, yesterday, a good friend of mine FINALLY updated after about 6 months. You can imagine my delight. I couldn't tear myself away from the computer as I read all about what they had been up to this summer... yadda yadda yadda... so it may have taken me a little longer to finish than it usually does. Mr. Mischief finished up his...oh... I was too into my story to keep count... lets just say 4th bowl of cereal for the sake of time, and had moved over to the couch.

As I was finishing up my online novel, I heard a rustling coming from the pantry behind me. Great, mouse season already. It had been cold this weekend, but did they have to invade so soon?!

Then I noticed the previously closed door was partially opened....

Man, these are some mutant mice.... they can have whatever is in the pantry... just leave my children (oh and my white cheddar popcorn please) alone!

Then I noticed Mister Mischief was no longer sitting on the couch.

I was too late my mutant rats already got him.

I tiptoed to the pantry to avenge my sons demise, threw open the door, and found this...

Here's my little mousie. Isn't he cute? I think I'll keep him.

Isn't it funny how even my 18 month old can detect when mommy isn't paying attention ie: on the phone, on the computer, making out with a fudgecicle. They don't even have to be in the same room, their detectors go off, and they exploit the temporary freedom to run rampant to the fullest extent?!

What do your little mousies do when you are "temporarily unavailable"?

Oh No...

After a long day there is nothing like the feeling of closing down shop.


I close all the blinds, make sure all the doors are locked and turn out all the lights. Then I head off to attempt to snuggle with my hubby... although ultimately I get swallowed up by the sleep monster before my head hits the pillow.

Last night I was basking in the joy that is my nightly routine when my world was shattered. One moment I am blistfully skipping along (gloating at the fact that I survived another crazy chaotic day and still could skip) flipping off lights and congratulating myself on the fact that it was only 9:30 and we were already heading for bed. I might even be able to stay awake tonight. What a wonderful night this would be. What great possibilities awaited me? Snuggling with my hubby. Maybe watch a little tv or read a little.

As I was walking through the kitchen I looked up and froze. There was a half full water bottle teetering on the edge of the counter. It should be still right? Water bottles don't move autonomously. But it was vibrating. You know that scene on Jurassic Park where they are sitting in the broken down car conveniently positioned right in front of the T-Rex cage conveniently sans-electric fence sustaining electricity? They look down at the glass of water and it starts vibrating and a perfect little ripple appears in said water producing a tidal wave of terror-filled anxiety in the occupants of the car?

Times that by a million.

They were actors on a set, they new that ripple was produced by a guitar string (actual trivia) underneath the car, and that the T-Rex coming to rip them to shreds was a the mercy of their technical producers who (hopefully) had no desire to expose them to such a fate. There were no producers on my "set". I was all by myself in my kitchen. When a water bottle vibrates all by itself, it cannot mean something good is in your forcast.

As it would turn out, what was in my forcast was worse than I could have ever imagined.

There must be a minor earthquake.... I braced myself for a moment, looked around and realized nothing else, including myself, was moving. Then it must be worse... I turned slowly (they always do it slowly in the movies) to search for the T-Rex that must be in pursuit of the "chocolate filled" yummyness that was my body... nothing.

I looked back at the terror-inducing water bottle. It had ceased movement. Hmmm... that's weird. Oh well, off to bed and I started to walk off...

That stupid bottle started vibrating again.. gosh dang it, it was worse than an earthquake, or a bloodthirsty T-Rex that had caused the ripple....

IT WAS ME. My walking had caused the floor to shake and thus caused the water bottle to vibrate in a previously "pounding dinosaur footstep" induced way.

So much for snuggling.

Anyone else had a wake up call lately?