Right now I am blogging in an effort to shake the awful, sick feeling I have in my stomach. It's the kind of sick that you get when although you are completely safe, you harbor terrible fear for someone else.
This evening our family went to dinner at our brother's fiance's family restaurant. It was a great evening with our brothers, their families and her parents and siblings. Throughout the evening, we noticed a young girl being verbally battered on a nearly constant basis, followed by several smacks on the mouth and other harsh physical punishment. It got progressively worse until it was noticed by everyone in the store. By this time, I think we were all ready to step in, in one way or another.
Before I knew what was happening, the poor little girl was in tears, being grabbed at by her ______(I'm not sure what to call him at this point and if I attempt to call him anything, it will be a very ugly word) and he was no longer yelling at her. He was yelling at...my husband!
I very rarely see He-Man angry so when I saw the look on his face I knew he was furious! He had gone over to the ___________ and told him point-blank, "If you touch that little girl again, I will call the police". At that point, several people stepped in to stick up for the young girl and also help He-Man out while the women of his group started cursing and making disgusting excuses for this man's behavior. Even more dispicible was that they used the explanation that this little girl was 'handicapped'. Which makes me want to vomit even now.
After the yelling from the man and women stopped, they grabbed their children and dashed out the door. This was not before other patrons wrote down liscense plates and called the police.
When the immediate fear of my husband being punched left(...really I ought to have been afraid for the man because if he had struck my husband I would have been on his back scratching at his eyeballs and our brothers would have been pummeling him) we were all struck with indescribable fear for that little girl when the family got home, out of the public eye.
I can't begin to tell you how awful this feeling is. What can I do?! I wish we could step in and save her somehow! UG!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
My Glorious Sisters and our Second Annual Girl's Retreat...
Growing up I desperately wanted sisters. Alas, I was given the greatest set of brothers a girl could ask for. A few of them even endured me dressing them up in doll clothes and painting their fingernails. (I really, really hope I didn't give any of them a complex.)
Even more, I married a man with 5 brothers and only one sister. However, that one sister-in-law and the other 5 (almost 6) sisters-in-law from both families have become everything I imagined sisters could be. They are some of the greatest, most gifted people I know.
We have been through so much together. We have shared in one another's joy and mourned together, laughed together, prayed and fasted together. With each passing year I am astounded by how each of them refine their unique talents and better themselves.
This weekend, we celebrated our friendship and sisterhood with the Second Annual Girl's Retreat. It starts on Friday and ends with the Annual LDS Relief Society Broadcast that ends on Saturday night. Our very sweet husbands take the kids on their own adventure and we take over a home for 24 hours. Hosting events such as these is right up my ally, so it's been held at my house so far.
One of the funnest aspects of this retreat is that it's all inclusive. This year we were entreated with the presence of our mother-in-law who lives in Germany. It was wonderful to have her here...you know the matriarch of the outfit really helps you appreciate where it all started! So, if you are a girl and don't mind being adopted into the Sisterhood of (our last name) we would gladly have you join us. So mark your calendars for next year and plan on getting little sleep, eating yummy chocolates and having a lot of fun...
Late at night, after the moonlight yoga, pedicures and spa treatments we spent some time doing personal meditation. We didn't have someone to take our picture so we did our best to take it ourselves.
This is Em and I. We have been kindred friends for a very long time. She is my hero in so many ways!
One of the activities was writing "I am" statements all over the house.
We also made self portraits. They were supposed to be of ourselves, not how we want people to see us, but what we really are.
Our 'almost' sister-in-law, Alisa is marrying Tanner in December. She just purchased her wedding boots and they are so CUTE! They match her saucy, spunky, beautiful personality!
What retreat wouldn't be complete without chocolate?! We spent the first part of the evening in a spa setting, with healthy treats to munch the enjoyed dessert later.
Now this is where it takes a turn...and gets even better. You know how when you stay up after midnight and everything gets even goofier? Your head spins, stomach aches and you can't close your eyes for too long or you will fall asleep, but you are laughing so hard you don't care?
At 3:00 in the morning, we kidnapped our 'almost' sister-in-law and gave her a real Sisterhood Induction Ceremony....
We howled at the moon, danced and pranced, and painted our faces. I really hope we didn't wake up the neighbors or break the trampoline when we ignored the weight restrictions.
Jamie gets her face painted by a mystery finger.
From left to right, Em, me-'the ham', and the brilliant brains of this outfit, Heather. She has the Midas Touch and knows how to make these events unforgettable.
Does this photo need any introduction?
Another one of those self-administered photographs. We tried to get everyone in, but we were in the center of the trampoline and is was giving way too the weight and we were falling all over the place!
After sleeping in, we gathered together for the service project part of our retreat. When our family lost little Hannah last year a world of opportunity of service opened up. Our sweet, heroic Jamie (Hannah's mom) had the idea to serve by making blankets and clothing for children who pass away in the hospital or who are stillborn. The program coordinator uses these donations to clothe the babies and photograph them for their parents.
The hard part about this project was knowing what service these sweet, little blankets would render but Jamie has shared with us how wonderfully supportive the hospital staff was during their grieving. That just reaffirms the importance of the project.
After our work, we went to a late lunch at our favorite eatery, Zupas. It's amazing how even after talking for nearly 24 hours, we still have plenty to say!
Finally, to finish off the evening, we gathered ourselves together and attended the Broadcast. It was a wonderful way to end the night by filling our spiritually buckets.
I love these sisters as though they were related by blood. They are light to my life and strength to my heart. I truly hope they will never doubt how much they mean to me.
My invitation at the beginning of the post was sincere. If you care to join us next year, our door is open!
Even more, I married a man with 5 brothers and only one sister. However, that one sister-in-law and the other 5 (almost 6) sisters-in-law from both families have become everything I imagined sisters could be. They are some of the greatest, most gifted people I know.
We have been through so much together. We have shared in one another's joy and mourned together, laughed together, prayed and fasted together. With each passing year I am astounded by how each of them refine their unique talents and better themselves.
This weekend, we celebrated our friendship and sisterhood with the Second Annual Girl's Retreat. It starts on Friday and ends with the Annual LDS Relief Society Broadcast that ends on Saturday night. Our very sweet husbands take the kids on their own adventure and we take over a home for 24 hours. Hosting events such as these is right up my ally, so it's been held at my house so far.
One of the funnest aspects of this retreat is that it's all inclusive. This year we were entreated with the presence of our mother-in-law who lives in Germany. It was wonderful to have her here...you know the matriarch of the outfit really helps you appreciate where it all started! So, if you are a girl and don't mind being adopted into the Sisterhood of (our last name) we would gladly have you join us. So mark your calendars for next year and plan on getting little sleep, eating yummy chocolates and having a lot of fun...
Late at night, after the moonlight yoga, pedicures and spa treatments we spent some time doing personal meditation. We didn't have someone to take our picture so we did our best to take it ourselves.
This is Em and I. We have been kindred friends for a very long time. She is my hero in so many ways!
One of the activities was writing "I am" statements all over the house.
We also made self portraits. They were supposed to be of ourselves, not how we want people to see us, but what we really are. 
Our 'almost' sister-in-law, Alisa is marrying Tanner in December. She just purchased her wedding boots and they are so CUTE! They match her saucy, spunky, beautiful personality!
What retreat wouldn't be complete without chocolate?! We spent the first part of the evening in a spa setting, with healthy treats to munch the enjoyed dessert later.
Now this is where it takes a turn...and gets even better. You know how when you stay up after midnight and everything gets even goofier? Your head spins, stomach aches and you can't close your eyes for too long or you will fall asleep, but you are laughing so hard you don't care?
At 3:00 in the morning, we kidnapped our 'almost' sister-in-law and gave her a real Sisterhood Induction Ceremony....
We howled at the moon, danced and pranced, and painted our faces. I really hope we didn't wake up the neighbors or break the trampoline when we ignored the weight restrictions.
Jamie gets her face painted by a mystery finger.
From left to right, Em, me-'the ham', and the brilliant brains of this outfit, Heather. She has the Midas Touch and knows how to make these events unforgettable.
Does this photo need any introduction?
Another one of those self-administered photographs. We tried to get everyone in, but we were in the center of the trampoline and is was giving way too the weight and we were falling all over the place!
After sleeping in, we gathered together for the service project part of our retreat. When our family lost little Hannah last year a world of opportunity of service opened up. Our sweet, heroic Jamie (Hannah's mom) had the idea to serve by making blankets and clothing for children who pass away in the hospital or who are stillborn. The program coordinator uses these donations to clothe the babies and photograph them for their parents.
The hard part about this project was knowing what service these sweet, little blankets would render but Jamie has shared with us how wonderfully supportive the hospital staff was during their grieving. That just reaffirms the importance of the project. 
After our work, we went to a late lunch at our favorite eatery, Zupas. It's amazing how even after talking for nearly 24 hours, we still have plenty to say!
Finally, to finish off the evening, we gathered ourselves together and attended the Broadcast. It was a wonderful way to end the night by filling our spiritually buckets.
I love these sisters as though they were related by blood. They are light to my life and strength to my heart. I truly hope they will never doubt how much they mean to me.
My invitation at the beginning of the post was sincere. If you care to join us next year, our door is open!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Conversational Taboos: Bodily Funtions, Your Unmentionables, Voldemort and...Politics
Even those who haven't read the 'Harry Potter' series know about Voldemort. They may also know that in the wizarding world his name was so taboo, most people were afraid to even say his name. Thus, he became the bad guy "You Know Who" or "He Who Shall Not be Named".
Back in our own world, we have our own conversational taboos; those topics that we must tread upon carefully so as not to alienate those within earshot. These are, among others, bodily functions, your underwear, religion and....politics.
Perhaps my current blog entry is the wizarding world's equivalent of Voldemort showing up to a church wearing lingerie and having a bad case of the burps but it has been on my mind a lot the past few weeks...
Generally when there are political discussions in our home it is He-Man doing the talking and it's usually with someone other than me because it is about my least favorite thing to talk with people about. It's such a personal topic and I often feel like I am violating boundaries if I bring it up. He-Man on the other hand loves to talk to people about it, even if it means he is on the other side of a debate.
I'm stretching myself a bit by discussing this but here are my questions: When did it become perfectly acceptable to destroy a political opponent's image? When did elections become more about who can dig up the most salacious, character damaging dirt and less about ideals and policies? Please understand I am not pointing a finger at any one party because the venom is ubiquitous. Really, no political affiliation has a monopoly on all this nastiness.
Honestly, if a person treated loved ones in such a manner they would be left with no friends. Family members would be wearing garlic clove necklaces around their necks and shielding themselves with mirrors when in that person's presence; because wouldn't people like that be considered 'emotional bloodsuckers'?
In recent years I have learned something about myself in this regard. In the past when I have gotten angry or felt provoked (whether it was in my mind or real) I would get mean and nasty. I would allow myself to verbalize thoughts and feelings that should have stayed unsaid. It's unfortunate that it damaged a few relationships in my life but I'm really blessed to have incredibly forgiving loved ones. But still, the damage that was done was so hurtful and potentially scarring that it could have easily done irrevocable harm.
Sadly, those hurtful, ugly things verbalized in the public arena are much, much worse in that they are forever in the public memory and a person's image can be tarnished everywhere they go. I heard the analogy once of a man opening a bag of feathers into a blustery day and then, when the wind stopped, he attempted to retrieve every feather. Technically, it may be possible to do just that but I imagine retrieving another person's good name may not be. How is it that horrible, nasty things can escape a person's lips like that? Seriously! You kiss your Mama with that mouth?! UG!
And so it goes. As the voting season reaches a fever pitch and voices are ranting in favor of one candidate and in loathing of another, I truly wish that they could find a way to stop and give each other a great, big sandwich hug, apologize for saying cruel things, agree to keep the debates about issues, ideals and policy and then, at the end, sign each other's year books with the words like, 'friends 4ever' and 'keep in touch' (nobody actually does, but it leaves you with a happy feeling). Then, we as a nation, can all collectively sigh, releasing ginormous levels of carbon dioxide and in the process making lots and lots of trees very happy thus be super eco-friendly. See! Multiple problems solved.
The End
Back in our own world, we have our own conversational taboos; those topics that we must tread upon carefully so as not to alienate those within earshot. These are, among others, bodily functions, your underwear, religion and....politics.
Perhaps my current blog entry is the wizarding world's equivalent of Voldemort showing up to a church wearing lingerie and having a bad case of the burps but it has been on my mind a lot the past few weeks...
Generally when there are political discussions in our home it is He-Man doing the talking and it's usually with someone other than me because it is about my least favorite thing to talk with people about. It's such a personal topic and I often feel like I am violating boundaries if I bring it up. He-Man on the other hand loves to talk to people about it, even if it means he is on the other side of a debate.
I'm stretching myself a bit by discussing this but here are my questions: When did it become perfectly acceptable to destroy a political opponent's image? When did elections become more about who can dig up the most salacious, character damaging dirt and less about ideals and policies? Please understand I am not pointing a finger at any one party because the venom is ubiquitous. Really, no political affiliation has a monopoly on all this nastiness.
Honestly, if a person treated loved ones in such a manner they would be left with no friends. Family members would be wearing garlic clove necklaces around their necks and shielding themselves with mirrors when in that person's presence; because wouldn't people like that be considered 'emotional bloodsuckers'?
In recent years I have learned something about myself in this regard. In the past when I have gotten angry or felt provoked (whether it was in my mind or real) I would get mean and nasty. I would allow myself to verbalize thoughts and feelings that should have stayed unsaid. It's unfortunate that it damaged a few relationships in my life but I'm really blessed to have incredibly forgiving loved ones. But still, the damage that was done was so hurtful and potentially scarring that it could have easily done irrevocable harm.
Sadly, those hurtful, ugly things verbalized in the public arena are much, much worse in that they are forever in the public memory and a person's image can be tarnished everywhere they go. I heard the analogy once of a man opening a bag of feathers into a blustery day and then, when the wind stopped, he attempted to retrieve every feather. Technically, it may be possible to do just that but I imagine retrieving another person's good name may not be. How is it that horrible, nasty things can escape a person's lips like that? Seriously! You kiss your Mama with that mouth?! UG!
And so it goes. As the voting season reaches a fever pitch and voices are ranting in favor of one candidate and in loathing of another, I truly wish that they could find a way to stop and give each other a great, big sandwich hug, apologize for saying cruel things, agree to keep the debates about issues, ideals and policy and then, at the end, sign each other's year books with the words like, 'friends 4ever' and 'keep in touch' (nobody actually does, but it leaves you with a happy feeling). Then, we as a nation, can all collectively sigh, releasing ginormous levels of carbon dioxide and in the process making lots and lots of trees very happy thus be super eco-friendly. See! Multiple problems solved.
The End
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Funny little kid quote....
Today Bunny watched Snow White. She was quite indignant with the evil queen. She marched upstairs and with conviction announced, "It is not nice to cut out people's hearts! That is just mean! You would never do that to me. So if you really love someone, you won't do that."
She then proceeded to sing a song about 'not taking people's hearts because it's mean'.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Tonight I'm dancing like a spazz!
Alright guys and dolls, I have changed my playlist this evening. These songs will definitely reveal that I am, in fact, a spazz (not that there was any question). I will have you know that after closing my blinds and since my kids would probably sleep through anything with the exception of nuclear holocaust I am turning up the volume and spazzing out. Anyone want to join me? Go ahead, I dare you!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Family Reunion Misadventures and a game of Sardine....
This weekend our little family loaded up into Ophelia and headed to South Salt Lake for the annual Heath Family Reunion. I was so excited to attend because I hadn't seen my Great Uncle Paul since he sealed us in the Salt Lake Temple 9 1/2 years ago.
THIS NEXT PART IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH!!!
By the time we hit the out skirts of town Sunshine was complaining her tummy hurt and was looking a rather sickly shade of green. As we pulled into the park she lost her breakfast with such velosity that it actually hit our arms. We were even in the front seat!!
While Chris painstakingly cleaned off his laptop in the drinking fountain (that's what he gets for bringing electronics) I discovered a more effective way to hose everything else off in the bathroom.
By the time we were all cleaned up we noticed something rather parculiar. THERE WAS NOBODY THERE! And we were even late! Seriously! We even found the reservation sign holding the pavilion for our family.
I guess this turned out to be lucky because our car really needed to be cleaned out because the Watermelon scented car freshener was not hiding the smell. It was just making it worse. Once Sunshine lost the sickly green look and her cheeks became rosy again, we piled in the car and headed home. We made a stop at McDonald's and played for a bit, then drove home...with the windows down.
Oddly enough Chris got us lost and we found ourselves downwind to a human waste processing plant...which made the rebreakfast watermelon scent even worse! Luckily before anyone else got ill, we found our way back to familiar territory, stopped the car to air it out a bit and pick wild sunflowers. They are very pretty and amazingly didn't wilt and die from the fumes emitting from our car. Poor Ophelia. It was a rough, rough day.
END OF SQUEAMISH STORY.
On a lighter note, we played a really fun game of Sardines with the kids and the cousins this weekend...
Here's my new profile pic...taken by my mom which means it's one He-Man and I were in together!
....Of Goodly Parents.
This past few weeks my Mom and Dad have been visiting us while getting my baby brother ready for another semester at BYU Idaho. I have thoroughly enjoyed their presence and already miss them terribly. Having them here has reminded me of a simple fact: I have been incredibly blessed with very goodly, honorable parents. This statement is not intended to be a brag. It is more an explanation as to why I have very little, if anything to complain about in my life.
This is particularly profound because of the kind of life my mom had while she was growing up. Amazingly, she stopped the cycle of a very destructive lifestyle and managed to raise us semi-normally. I say 'semi' because most of you know us and understand that we aren't really all that normal. The funny thing is, I am completely and utterly delighted by that. I am embarrassed to admit it took a long time to come to that conclusion...
I'm so grateful that although Peej, Joe and I were mortified by it, they drove a pickle green 1970 Volkswagen Bus. We drove cross country from Pennsylvania to Utah and even had to push start it a few times. To add to the completely conservative hippie feel, we listened to two albums during the whole trip: "The Monkees" 1976 greatest hits and "Anne Murray's 1980 Greatest Hits". The van eventually grew on us. Peej learned to drive the beast, affectionately named "The Herbmobile" and even produced a prominent dent or two. Chris and I got caught kissing in the back of it one night. (Even more incriminating, he was chewing my gum.) Not a Monkees song goes by when I don't reminisce of Herb and my parents, who I envisioned as 'Mormon Hippies'.
I'm also grateful Mom insisted on making my prom dresses, our squad's cheer leading uniforms and my wedding dress, which saved us boatloads of money. By the end of my prom attending career I attended 8 proms...seriously not as impressive as it sounds. (We grew up in a small town with not much to do and I jumped at any chance to get all gussied up so there were a lot of taken opportunities and many demands for dresses) Although the leg slits weren't as high as I wanted them and the bodices not as form fitting, they were beautiful and I cherish them to this day. Mom even made me a gloriously bubble gum pink dress with hugely puffy sleeves (I never claimed to be a fashion icon) for the 'Miss Teen of Utah' pageant. These treasures are more than sparkly material with embellishments. They are a way my Mom showed her love for me.
And although my parents gave me a curfew, wouldn't let me have my own car, grounded me from a Homecoming dance and utilized many other forms of cruel and unusual teenage punishment, I never had to wonder how they felt about me.
I will always remember the night before my wedding. Our home was full of family members and my old room was filled to bursting with food storage so that night was spent on a cot set up in the corner of my parents bedroom. I can't say that I really slept because we ended up talking most of the night. One of the best parts about that experience was that Mom and Dad already loved my husband-to-be like a son and were elated for the pending nuptials.
The story goes on. With every high and low we experience as a family, I come to appreciate them even more. My good friend Lindsay recently said that her "parents are like a fine wine...they keep getting better the older I get". This is an incredibly appropriate statement because I feel the same about mine.
Someday, I hope the same thing can be said of me--that I will be compared to a fine, aged wine instead of something like, say, fish because no one wants to be compared to stinky old fish.
This is particularly profound because of the kind of life my mom had while she was growing up. Amazingly, she stopped the cycle of a very destructive lifestyle and managed to raise us semi-normally. I say 'semi' because most of you know us and understand that we aren't really all that normal. The funny thing is, I am completely and utterly delighted by that. I am embarrassed to admit it took a long time to come to that conclusion...
I'm so grateful that although Peej, Joe and I were mortified by it, they drove a pickle green 1970 Volkswagen Bus. We drove cross country from Pennsylvania to Utah and even had to push start it a few times. To add to the completely conservative hippie feel, we listened to two albums during the whole trip: "The Monkees" 1976 greatest hits and "Anne Murray's 1980 Greatest Hits". The van eventually grew on us. Peej learned to drive the beast, affectionately named "The Herbmobile" and even produced a prominent dent or two. Chris and I got caught kissing in the back of it one night. (Even more incriminating, he was chewing my gum.) Not a Monkees song goes by when I don't reminisce of Herb and my parents, who I envisioned as 'Mormon Hippies'.
I'm also grateful Mom insisted on making my prom dresses, our squad's cheer leading uniforms and my wedding dress, which saved us boatloads of money. By the end of my prom attending career I attended 8 proms...seriously not as impressive as it sounds. (We grew up in a small town with not much to do and I jumped at any chance to get all gussied up so there were a lot of taken opportunities and many demands for dresses) Although the leg slits weren't as high as I wanted them and the bodices not as form fitting, they were beautiful and I cherish them to this day. Mom even made me a gloriously bubble gum pink dress with hugely puffy sleeves (I never claimed to be a fashion icon) for the 'Miss Teen of Utah' pageant. These treasures are more than sparkly material with embellishments. They are a way my Mom showed her love for me.
And although my parents gave me a curfew, wouldn't let me have my own car, grounded me from a Homecoming dance and utilized many other forms of cruel and unusual teenage punishment, I never had to wonder how they felt about me.
I will always remember the night before my wedding. Our home was full of family members and my old room was filled to bursting with food storage so that night was spent on a cot set up in the corner of my parents bedroom. I can't say that I really slept because we ended up talking most of the night. One of the best parts about that experience was that Mom and Dad already loved my husband-to-be like a son and were elated for the pending nuptials.
The story goes on. With every high and low we experience as a family, I come to appreciate them even more. My good friend Lindsay recently said that her "parents are like a fine wine...they keep getting better the older I get". This is an incredibly appropriate statement because I feel the same about mine.
Someday, I hope the same thing can be said of me--that I will be compared to a fine, aged wine instead of something like, say, fish because no one wants to be compared to stinky old fish.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Guilty Pleasure of the evening...and a dilemma
Neapolitan ice cream sundae with triple berry topping and probably way too much hot fudge drizzled on top....Yummm!
Seriously, has anyone else been experiencing a huge influx of telemarketing calls? I can't remember a time when my phone has been ringing this much. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad....(aughhhhh BRAIN FREEZE!....)if I had any interest in what these, {I'm sure really nice} people {with incredibly unfortunate professions} were selling. BUT I have no use for 22,547 channels all featuring the life and adventures of various amoebas OR timeshare for vacations in beautiful Death Valley California.
I'm also getting frequent visits from our friendly neighborhood solicitors. I can't bare to be mean to any of them, what with their Mamas with pegged legs (no offense to those who are missing appendages)who need a rare operation to save their hair, their hungry monkey pets desperately needing the funds from magazine sales, and their need to sell the most new windows so they won't be forced to give up their first born child to the window making bosses.
I do feel so bad for not being able to help them out but I beginning to fear picking up the phone and answering the door. I'm sure these people are really nice so I want to make sure they aren't crushed when we part ways...but what if all of these people get together and say, "Hey! Go to her house! She will feed you cookies and give you a glass of Kool-Aid!" How do I avoid these situations and save myself and them time without being mean? THIS QUESTION IS GOING TO KEEP ME UP TONIGHT!!
I do have a confession. For those who choose never to speak to me again, I understand. For a brief 4 month period in 1996-1997 I too, was a telemarketer. Everyday I went to work I felt like a little piece of my soul was being sucked out and I had nightmares of customers chasing me, ready to pelt me with satellite dishes. I also gained an education on new combinations of swear words. There are a few words I heard during that time I still don't know the meaning of. It was a very dark time in my life. I don't talk about it much.
Because of this I am trying hard to remember how much I appreciated when people were nice. So is there a magic or secret code in telemarketing and door to door solicitations that automatically tells them to stop the spiel and move on...while also letting them know that they are still good people and can rise above their current job description? If anyone knows PLEASE TELL ME!
Seriously, has anyone else been experiencing a huge influx of telemarketing calls? I can't remember a time when my phone has been ringing this much. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad....(aughhhhh BRAIN FREEZE!....)if I had any interest in what these, {I'm sure really nice} people {with incredibly unfortunate professions} were selling. BUT I have no use for 22,547 channels all featuring the life and adventures of various amoebas OR timeshare for vacations in beautiful Death Valley California.
I'm also getting frequent visits from our friendly neighborhood solicitors. I can't bare to be mean to any of them, what with their Mamas with pegged legs (no offense to those who are missing appendages)who need a rare operation to save their hair, their hungry monkey pets desperately needing the funds from magazine sales, and their need to sell the most new windows so they won't be forced to give up their first born child to the window making bosses.
I do feel so bad for not being able to help them out but I beginning to fear picking up the phone and answering the door. I'm sure these people are really nice so I want to make sure they aren't crushed when we part ways...but what if all of these people get together and say, "Hey! Go to her house! She will feed you cookies and give you a glass of Kool-Aid!" How do I avoid these situations and save myself and them time without being mean? THIS QUESTION IS GOING TO KEEP ME UP TONIGHT!!
I do have a confession. For those who choose never to speak to me again, I understand. For a brief 4 month period in 1996-1997 I too, was a telemarketer. Everyday I went to work I felt like a little piece of my soul was being sucked out and I had nightmares of customers chasing me, ready to pelt me with satellite dishes. I also gained an education on new combinations of swear words. There are a few words I heard during that time I still don't know the meaning of. It was a very dark time in my life. I don't talk about it much.
Because of this I am trying hard to remember how much I appreciated when people were nice. So is there a magic or secret code in telemarketing and door to door solicitations that automatically tells them to stop the spiel and move on...while also letting them know that they are still good people and can rise above their current job description? If anyone knows PLEASE TELL ME!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A Shout Out to all those Rockstars who reproduced and are now singing for kids...
This evening I changed the music on my blog and took a walk down memory lane. As I scanned through 'They Might Be Giants' I was tickled pink to find their song "Higglytown" from the Disney show "Higglytown Heroes". It filled my heart with appreciation for entertainers who go 'softie' and perform to make children smile. If you are looking for something delightful in this regard, check out any of Sandra Boynton's musical books. She has the 'Spin Doctors' and people like Scott Bakula and Eric Stolz singing non-sense songs.
So to you world-class entertainers, here is a very enthusiastic shout out!! There should be special seats at restaurants, exclusive public bathroom stalls and parking spots decorated with bubbles, streamers and balloons just for you (and the Wiggles), for making life happier for children the whole world over.
So to you world-class entertainers, here is a very enthusiastic shout out!! There should be special seats at restaurants, exclusive public bathroom stalls and parking spots decorated with bubbles, streamers and balloons just for you (and the Wiggles), for making life happier for children the whole world over.
Sibling torture: Sometimes your the top dog and sometimes your the poo...
I was raised in a house where there were words that were just as bad as the vile four letters words that aren't aloud on television. They are butt, poop, fart and pee (among others) so using the word 'poo' in the title of this blog entry is really a stretch for me. Even more, I can not believe I actually just typed those swear-word equivilents (Sorry Mom).
However, I could think of no better way to relate the right of passage that is sibling rivilry. I have done extensive research on the subject, spanning over 30 years of experience so I can safely say that I am an authority on the subject...not the psychology of it, just the occurance of it; that it really, truly exists.
So I shouldn't have been surprised when I downloaded pictures from my camera and discovered photographic evidence that my second child, who has seen her fair share of sibling warfare, is now a sneaky mastermind behind some of her own mischief.
(The following photographs were not taken by me which would confirm the fact that my four year old is skilled in hiding her weapons of familial warfare.)
Bunny: "ROOOOOOAAAAAAR!"
Button Nose: "You could really use a breath mint!"
Bunny: "You coming with me even if I have to drag you by the hair!"
Button Nose: "Sunshine, HELLLLLLLLP!)
Sunshine: (camera flashes) "Don't worry Button Nose, I'm capturing evidence of your torture for the betterment of posterity. In time, the truth will set you free."
I really, really hope that plunger was disinfected after it's last use.
Years before, when our second was a helpless little baby, we accidentally got a second picture of her older sister after she posed for a 'Sweet Sister Fairy' photo-op and found there was another side to their relationship. It also explains why there were times when Bunny would scream and cry when Sunshine would approach her.
Let's call this one "The Good Fairy"...
And we will call this one "The Bad Fairy"
For any of you out there who are sincerely worried about the welfare of my daughters, let me assure you that I am a clean freak and regularly sterilize my plunger among other things AND you musn't forget that inevitably, the top dog may seemingly have free reign, but the poo has the last laugh (well proverbially anyway) because when that 'top' dog is strutting it's stuff around what it deems as his territory, when he least expects it, he won't be watching his step and find himself standing right in the pile of...well, you get my drift don't you?
In all seriousness, the girls really love each other and are very good friends 95% of the time. I am very confident that whatever they dish out to each other, they will give back and be stronger for it. Plus, when it all comes down, none of them would ever let another person torture their sisters. That is a right strictly reserved for each other.
I guess my job is to hide the super glue, permanent markers, rope for tying each other up, scissors and apparently, toilet tools.
However, I could think of no better way to relate the right of passage that is sibling rivilry. I have done extensive research on the subject, spanning over 30 years of experience so I can safely say that I am an authority on the subject...not the psychology of it, just the occurance of it; that it really, truly exists.
So I shouldn't have been surprised when I downloaded pictures from my camera and discovered photographic evidence that my second child, who has seen her fair share of sibling warfare, is now a sneaky mastermind behind some of her own mischief.
(The following photographs were not taken by me which would confirm the fact that my four year old is skilled in hiding her weapons of familial warfare.)
Bunny: "ROOOOOOAAAAAAR!"
Button Nose: "You could really use a breath mint!"
Bunny: "You coming with me even if I have to drag you by the hair!"
Button Nose: "Sunshine, HELLLLLLLLP!)
Sunshine: (camera flashes) "Don't worry Button Nose, I'm capturing evidence of your torture for the betterment of posterity. In time, the truth will set you free."
I really, really hope that plunger was disinfected after it's last use.
Years before, when our second was a helpless little baby, we accidentally got a second picture of her older sister after she posed for a 'Sweet Sister Fairy' photo-op and found there was another side to their relationship. It also explains why there were times when Bunny would scream and cry when Sunshine would approach her.
Let's call this one "The Good Fairy"...
And we will call this one "The Bad Fairy"
For any of you out there who are sincerely worried about the welfare of my daughters, let me assure you that I am a clean freak and regularly sterilize my plunger among other things AND you musn't forget that inevitably, the top dog may seemingly have free reign, but the poo has the last laugh (well proverbially anyway) because when that 'top' dog is strutting it's stuff around what it deems as his territory, when he least expects it, he won't be watching his step and find himself standing right in the pile of...well, you get my drift don't you?
In all seriousness, the girls really love each other and are very good friends 95% of the time. I am very confident that whatever they dish out to each other, they will give back and be stronger for it. Plus, when it all comes down, none of them would ever let another person torture their sisters. That is a right strictly reserved for each other.
I guess my job is to hide the super glue, permanent markers, rope for tying each other up, scissors and apparently, toilet tools.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
A 'kind-of' Retraction....
Stemming from a request from my wonderful husband, I am sort of retracting the pictures I posted yesterday.
He-Man was concerned that the photos misrepresent the proportions of his body. Alas, he is correct. These pictures were taken while he and his brother were goofing off and sticking their guts out as far as they could possibly go.
I know I recently posted this picture, but I love it so much I thought I would share it again. It more accurately illustrates his chiseled, mythical Grecian-hero-like features....at least in his face. ;)
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Little items of randomness...
This is random, but I had to share these pics from a couple of months ago. They make me laugh out loud every time I see them. He-Man needs to do something about that root beer belly.
I don't know what it is but something about those two in the back totally reminds me of the movie "The Three Amigos". Can anyone explain this to me?
Here I am, Tuesday night, sitting before my computer wondering what to write about. It isn't even 8:00 yet and my kids are asleep, my kitchen is spotless, my couch's throw pillows are straight and He-Man won't be home for a couple of hours. Sooo...
First, I challenge you to do your own 100 facts list. I was surprised last week at how reconnecting to myself it was. I know that sounds weird, I can't explain it, but I really appreciated the opportunity. I eagerly await your list, my beautiful bloggin' buddies....
Okay, I know what I am going to write about. The following things are items I just realized I need to have on my person when I step foot out of my house...
1. A BOX, not a travel packet, of tissues. I have a child, who will remain nameless, who has her ever-lovin' index finger perpetually in her nose.
There is this awesome salon in town that discounts (we are talking 60% off!) a couple of new colors of nail polish every month. It's great polish, so I like to keep some handy for birthday presents and such. Today, with my trusty nose picking sidekick, we gallivanted through the mall and into the shop. I was paying for my purchases when I heard the stylist and his client laughing. I heard them commenting about how 'that is so gross' and I knew what they were referring to without even turning around. Yep, my sweet, angel faced name withheld daughter was staring at them with her big, beautiful eyes, unabashedly digging for apparently lost treasure.
So, this evening as she sleeps, I am planning to paint her nails tomorrow with shimmery purple polih. Most assuredly, that lovely manicured finger will again find itself in an orifice where the sun doesn't shine. I guess I ought to pack antibacterial wipes along too.
2. 1 shirt pocket. He-Man has the cutest saucy grandmother EVER! We were hosting a family party on Sunday night. As she was preparing to leave, she walked up to me, handed me a $20 bill and said, "Put this in your bra for me for a minute, will ya? Go on now." Perhaps the transaction would have been a little easier had I a handy little shirt pocket.
3. Nail grooming kit. Another child of mine, who shall not be named, has decided she is no longer afraid to clip her own finger and toe nails. I understand the need for her to be independent so I try really hard to encourage her in that respect. However, while attending church services of ANY kind it is most definitely not appropriate to clip ones finger or toenails. Imagine my horror to find a circle of children surrounding my daughter very intently clipping her toes. Since I don't have a shirt pocket in which to place said contraband, a nail grooming kit would be a good place to put them.
4. 2 tubes of lip balm. One is never enough because it is almost a sure bet that one will mysteriously disappear, reappearing again during church services, gracing the positively glistening lips of a little girl who is already wearing half the tube on her kissers. Of course, the next quarter of the tube will be applied ever so cautiously to the lips, sweet cheeks, nose, chin and hair line of a four year old. But of course, before it is returned to its rightful owner, the nearly mangled tube of lip balm will be applied to the lips and unfortunately goobery nose of a one year old by the unsteady hand of the previously mentioned 4 year old.
5. 1 empty ziploc bag. Jewelry that I was convinced was indestructible is not actually that durable when caught by the eye of a curious toddler. Even food carries little distraction for a kid bent on the utter annihilation of pretty, sparkly things. Pearls do not mesh with children under the age of 2 and church services where reverence is greatly encouraged. Also, it is almost impossible to confine anything shaped as a sphere when you are standing on a floor with a downward slope. I am a slow learner because I had to be reminded of the simple law of balls and gravity twice in the last month.
6. My very own #2 pencil WITH the eraser still in tact. Every pencil in our house that is not in a package has had it's eraser chewed off by some invisible but obviously hungry eraser eating bandit.....MOST OF THESE PENCILS HAVE NEVER BEEN SHARPENED!
7. Loads and loads of non-sticky, sugar free suckers. Grandma and Grandpa are visiting from out of state. Last week they decided to take the grand kids and I to Kung Fu Panda. Button Nose lasted a good half hour before she was done. By 45 minutes, she was near mutiny. At the hour mark I finally relented and gave her a dum-dum. By the taste of the syrupy remnants on my cheek, nose and chin, it was butterscotch flavored. There is nothing like the sensation of very sticky hands being wiped across the top of your arms (and against the direction your arm hair grows).
Augh, who am I kidding? I wouldn't trade any of it to be the most prepared super mom out there...well, I guess there is one thing. How do I get a kid to stop picking her nose in public?
In all seriousness, I couldn't ask for better kids. I came to my blog tonight not sure what to write but I am coming away with a renewed appreciation for the sweet kids who pick their noses in public, like to groom themselves where the world can see, have no qualms about doing the potty dance for large audiences AND who love me, their mommy, unconditionally. I need to go now and kiss their cute sweet little cheeks. Good night my friends, sleep well and swing on a star. May you discover the one hundred and first way to prepare asparagus, win a million dollars and be featured in Time Magazine.
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