The Rays

2011-11-30T09:54:00.000-08:00

I can't believe my monkey #2 is five!!! We went to Legoland for his birthday. The above pics are from a 4d movie.

And then we had a very angry party.

This homeless child wandered around and stole cookies and played in the dirt.

Happy Birthday Buddy!

Where have I been?

2011-08-26T16:39:00.001-07:00

Sorry I haven't posted much on here. I've been mostly focused on this...

http://www.graciebelleray.blogspot.com

love me

My imaginary friends.

2011-07-19T17:05:00.000-07:00

Whelll.....

For some reason my blog will only type text centered despite my angry pounding of the keys.

It's July. I know. I'm sure everyone has abandoned me for more exciting blogs everywhere like watchingmoldgrow.blogspot.com and peoplewhodonothingexcitingbutblogaboutitmorethanemma.blogspot.com.

Anyway. I figure an update is called for.

WE are STILL trying to find a place to live. Still. and I blame it on the government. We had a contract and then found out we still needed a document for student loans. I called said government and they said, "Sure! We'll have it to you in 30 to 90 days."
So we had to walk. Just hoping we get the document soon and can get our house back. Stress.

Everyone is still alive and breathing though the breathing is slightly more labored due to how DANG hot it is outside.

We (my eldest monkey) is currently obsessed with squids. If anyone was wondering, yes squids do have beaks and yes a giant squid's eye IS the size of your head.

Other than that I have been socially isolated with only these friends to comfort me.

This was a great one. The beginning starts out just a bit slow but give it a couple chapters and you'll be hooked.

This was was probably the farthest out there as far as dystopian novels i've read but I really liked it. The writing was excellent.

This was like my red Popsicle this summer! It is hilarious and such a quick read. I went to the author's book signing when she came to TExas (which by the way rarely happens... how authors can ignore the second largest state in the US is beyond me). I would post a pic as proof but for some reason I chose the pose that makes me look like I weigh 300 pounds and yes. I am that vain.

This is the third book in a trilogy that starts with The Forest of Hands and Teeth. It was fabulous. I recommend reading them in order. ;)

This was a practical end of the world book. It takes a totally plausible situation and then drags you through how this family deals with it. It's like a car wreck. You can't put it down and You spend the next month considering becoming a hoarder. But I think its worth it.

I'm in the middle of this one. This is def sci-fi for all you sci-fi haters but so far it's good. The jury is still out.

This is a book co-authored by the wife of Lemony Snickett (Series of Unfortunate Events). It is illustrated (not a graphic novel just pictures here and there) and is a ghost story/mystery that takes place in the civil war. I liked it but I will have to gloat and say that I called the end from the beginning. Go ahead. See if you are as smart as me. I dare you.

Liked this one. About a society where they have cured love.... but why? you ask. Why cure love? I guess you'll have to read it.

Third Time's a Charm

2011-03-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

WELL over a month since my last post but you know. That's okay. I am my own blog boss after all and I say that I am NOT fired.

I have come bearing gifts.

I am finishing up applying my usual eye makeup. Enter monkey number one. "That looks much better mom. Now you look like a cat."

Monkey number two pulls Monkey number one down on top of him in a giant hug. Monkey number one, "Ew that is so innapropriate I can hear your heart beating!"

Since I last posted we have packed up our entire house, moved entire house into a tiny metal box (storage unit), moved in with the rents, travelled to the-state-that-knows-how-to-party-California, returned from said vacation, and started an actual positive income giving job.

We are all a little tired but grateful for our blessings.

We've started house hunting and here are our top five picks. I'm so glad it's a buyer's market. WE totally have the upper hand.

This is what the monkeys chose. Mind over matter in the summer right? This just feels apropriate for my life. Why travel to Egypt? Just come visit me.

My favorite.

This decision is going to be tough.

Blogging in Wonderland

2011-02-13T18:05:00.000-08:00

This is the story of my little Sis's 16th Unbirthday Party!

This was the invite.

This was the outside...

This was the GRAND entryway...
This was the GRAND entryway from another angle... notice the posterboard floor I laid...
This was the rabbit hole... (there is a little hallway that connects the foyer to the living room in my mom's house)Another component to the rabbit hole. It looked really cool in real life with the blacklight and spinning colors.

This is where we had the dinner.

Another angle...

The table.

The hats we made the guests wear.

The giant caterpillar...We had a fog machine that put out bubbles with fog inside. When you popped them the smoke escaped. They were SO cool.

The cakes my sister-in-law's sister-in-law made. Notice the giant sparkler candles in the middle. THey put off so much smoke, the smoke detector's, the carbon monoxide detector, and my parent's house fire alarm went off. They LOOKED cool though.

The writing on the wall...

The very tired co-decorator and her not tired monkey.

And finally... the BEAUTIFUL UNbirthday girl!

Lo Hicimos!

2011-02-09T12:07:00.000-08:00

For possibly the first time in my entire life, Dora the Explorer and I are on the same page.

We did, we did it, we did it yeah! Lo Hicimos! We did it!!!!

This pic pretty much sums up how smoothly the day went for our fam.

But we made it.

Let me clarify though... my husband does not weigh 300 pounds. The wind was seriously inflating his grad gown.

Also, we are taking a picture in front of the famous Baylor Bear.

Months ago, monkey #1 stood underneath it and with his arms raised shouted,

"This is the child of liberty!"

So really we are standing in front of The Child of Liberty.

Now that I am married to a 'high powered attorney', I suggest you think twice before crossing me. ;)

Long Lasting Effects

2011-01-20T22:13:00.000-08:00

I pulled this little chipper chap into the hall to admonish him 'gently' about how we behave in public.

His response....

"Ow, MOM! You're hurting my whole LIFE!"

A Collision Course

2011-01-13T18:07:00.000-08:00

My friend has this little girl who was born with what I like to call Rubber band legs. Some day she will be tall and gracefully long legged as well as the envy of all things female. But for now she is a danger to herself and all around her as she is constantly falling and running into things. Bit of a clumsy phase I think.

However through some magical power of transference I have obtained her rubber band abilities.

Case in point.

I full on rear ended a sweet old lady while dropping monkey 1 off at school.
We pulled over and got out and I BURST into tears. I mean Noah-better-get-your-hammer tears. There was no damage to either vehicle but I could NOT stop crying.

She said she wouldn't leave until I stopped crying and gave me a hug. It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous.

Case in point 2.

I had just gotten off of a plane at the end of a particularly LONG journey. All I wanted was to get to the baggage claim where my dad was waiting to pick me up. A clump of people had stopped on the right so I cut left so as not to lose momentum.
I cut left right in front of a BLIND MAN.
He proceeded to crash into me and naturally I said, "I'm so sorry I didn't SEE you!"

I guess he didn't see me either.

Yeesh.

From the Desk of Barbara Ray

2011-01-03T18:34:00.001-08:00

I don't usually post my junk mail. Meaning, I have never done it before but it's never too late to start.

I mean who could resist opening an envelope with such an enticing offer?

Inside was a neatly written letter explaining why cremation was the choice for me (Barbara).

And they summed it up with this catch phrase...

"Simple, Economical, and Dignified... It just makes sense!" (And that phrase was copyrighted folks so don't even THINK about putting it in your next YA novel.)

Anyway. Just a little something for those of you who haven't given up on me.

Look at Me and my Bad self

2010-11-19T06:20:00.000-08:00

So yesterday.

But first let me just say that when it comes to voting on crafting I am largely against. Not that I'm a hater. I just strongly dislike it. Probably because I'm not very crafty. Or maybe because crafts hate me. Both are possible and likely.

Anyway. So yesterday.

I SANDED a bunch of wooden things. I CUT paper. I PAINTED said wood. And....

I made this bad boy with absolutely no help or expertise from anyone who may or may not be named RACHEL. Okay she did help. Some. A bit more than some. Largely.

AND it's not over. So to compensate for this excess of homemaking skills, my friend called at like 10 o clock at night and said she was stranded in a dark parking lot with a flat. So Rach and I went over and very handily changed the tire. I even got a cut on my hand.

So very productive am I. ;)

Been hanging around this old town for way way way way way too long

2010-11-14T18:49:00.001-08:00

I'm thinking of a person.
Dead or alive? Alive.
Male or female? female.
Is she famous? Only for her talent of craft making avoidance and the amount of chocolate she can consume in one sitting.
Failure at blogging or not failure at blogging? FAILURE.

Hi all. Still here. Been in a bit of a rut as NOTHING EVER happens of note so I feel like I have nary a word to say.
I have a professional photographer (my mother) who follows me around to take pictures but alas all the pictures are on her computer. But they are great pictures. Really.

JK. I have snapped a few beauties. And of course I video tape a Ton. I will also delight you with one of those gems.

We did massacre some pumpkins. Monkey #2's was originally supposed to be a Lightning McQueen lightning bolt but I have such spectacular skills it ended up looking like this piece of awesomeness.

Here's Monkey 3 in one of his faces.

And here he is in his 'other' smile.

I guess I should note that despite our rental outer beauty, it's what or rather who's on the inside that counts. We just got done with the rather painful process of eviction.

My super-hero brother in law went to inspect the property after it was abandoned. Now imagine coming upon this scene in the dark. Life sized Barbie wasn't the first thought that came to his mind.

But enough about that. I can't think about it for too long without sending negative vibes to certain people. So.

This will have to suffice for now. I'll get the video up after I figure out how to NOT have it take a bajillion years to upload. It's quality. Trust me.

In other news...

2010-10-01T12:34:00.001-07:00

Things of note this week:

1. A girl driving, putting on makeup, and running into a mail truck. (a cautionary tale Emily)

2. The most exceptional checkout/bagger to grace Wal-Mart. EVER. (do you think she would think I was weird if I asked her what her hours were?)

3. Blind rage from a three-year-old.

4. The revelation that my husband is actually a super hero with abilities beyond compare when it comes to fighting evil by NEVER sleeping.

5. The suspicion that I was being followed when an SUV followed me for fifteen minutes all the way to my driveway, and then to hers next door. I seriously considered driving to a police station or very public place. THAT'S how paranoid I am people.

6. Every scrap of laundry in my house CLEAN. In the words of Shawn Spencer "WHAT????"

Our Roots

2010-09-27T19:34:00.001-07:00

Monkey #3. Thrilled to be back in his native habitat.

What's Your Signature?

2010-09-23T19:50:00.000-07:00

Monkeys have been sick ALL WEEK LONG. I have slept smothered in my bed, on the couch, on the floor, in the recliner, and quite possibly while walking.

Every time I open the blinds it's like this strange 'oh yeah. the world. it exists.' moment.

My good friend brought me cookies. Another brought me milk.

But the reason I mention the friend with the cookies is because I was lying on my bed in a sleep stupor and I hear this 'shave and a haircut' knock on my door. I looked through the peephole, and while mildly horrified because I have such dark circles that I look like I've been punched in the eyes, I opened the door.
As I'm opening it I'm having this slow afterthought of 'Wait! What are you doing? Don't open that door you idiot. You haven't showered in.... a while. You still haven't recovered from your REALLY bad CHOICE of a haircut. And you literally have a bag of garbage in the entry because you are too tired to walk it out to the garbage can."

That last line caught up with me in time so I only opened the door enough to accept the cookies, mumble something unintelligible, and slam it shut. I glared at the garbage, gave a cookie to my second born and collapsed back onto the bed.

But that was not the point of my post. The small detail you all probably overlooked was the AWESOME 'shave and a haircut' knock signature.

I have kind of since been obsessing about the fact that I need a signature. Like, when I knock on the door I always run and hide and then come back and knock again and really show up the second time. But the monkeys would slow me down. They would really cramp my fake knock and ditch style.

Or like I could always whistle. Like that's how people would know me. Or know I'm coming. for instance, at church people wouldn't always have to wonder WHO was coming around the corner. They would hear the reassuring whistle and sigh and say Oh it's just Emma. And then when I'm old they'll just smile and say what a sweet senile old lady. She's so eccentric.

But really I'm open to suggestions. That's what the comments section is for.

Or you could tell me YOUR signature and then I might steal it.

Three's a crowded mess

2010-09-12T20:03:00.000-07:00

Since acquiring the third monkey for our household, things like regularly painting my toenails and sleeping and dusting have gone out the window. But it's okay some of the time because dust comes in handy if say I became a detective and was commissioned to figure out who stole my glasses off my bookshelf...

And then there's always the favorite "left a sharpee out and found out I might have Zoro for a son" (this was not the only thing he declared as his own)

But then there's this to make me happy and I forget about the dust and the permanent marker on my very few pieces of good furniture that aren't from Target or Ikea.

(And here he is. The H bandit holding my pick-me-up hostage. Around this neck of the woods we call him dusty toes.)

Notice the man in the back.

2010-08-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

So posted a little poll above this post. I'm just wondering what people think of music on blogs. I have always viewed it as a way to share my FAV music finds but maybe there's a better way? What say you?

AND they cook.

2010-08-10T18:29:00.000-07:00

http://www.theydrawandcook.com

In my opinion...

2010-08-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

Some movies you might consider:

This was not what I thought it would be, but I actually ended up liking it. It is a little heart wrenching though.... So I warned you.
Love John Cusack. Always will. "There it is."

This is my newest find. I really loved it... not sure why. Maybe you will too.

One of my all time favorites.

I just finished reading this set of books. Don't watch it if you don't like quirky sci-fi.

"Uh... what's the subtext here?"

This is where I learned to love Gerard Butler. Have to watch this with subtitles though. Irish accents are almost like another language.

Watch this while eating pancakes.

What I would make if I were making a movie. Minus the inoordinate amount of Bee-hind shots.

This is actually an HBO mini-series. It really makes you feel the sacrifices men made in WWII. It was so beautifully done. Just know, that like most movies about war, there is violence.

Anyway. Take 'em or leave 'em.

Hard Core

2010-07-11T17:34:00.000-07:00

So in the last month of my pregnancy I did something that I had never done before.

I went to a concert. My first one. It was going to be great. It was for a guy named Yann Tiersen who is French and composed the sountrack to Amelie. It goes a little something like this.

This is what I thought I was coming to see. Or at least music like it. But it ended up being something more like this. Scroll to 3:13.

I know. After watching that you're like, "what's the big deal?" The difference is you have a little knob that controls the volume.

But you guys. I had no idea concerts were so loud. We're not talking like "hey turn your music down you rowdy teenagers you" We're talking "This is so loud I think it might break my water." I kid you not. *note to self. Bring ear plugs.

AND the worst part is. I dragged my dad there and my 15 year old sister. We got there when the web site said the concert would start at 7. Oh wait. that's when the opening acts start. Yann didn't start until TEN. And the opening acts were SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We went in the lobby to breathe in the fresh air of cigarette smoke and hear the tinkling of alcohol being passed around the bar instead. It wouldn't have been such a big deal if I hadn't been SO uncomfortably pregnant. But I was uncomfortable and I had visions of my newborn being deaf because I went to this stupid concert.

And you know what this has all made me realize. I am old. I am who I told my sixteen year old self I would never become. I should have gone to my Shania Twain concert when I was still full of YOUTH not this old wrinkled 25 year old woman.

And so after waiting three hours through mostly miserable opening acts, we heard Yann play for about ten minutes and left.

Sigh. Now you know. I'm so lame.

Happy Anniverrrssarry

2010-07-10T07:37:00.000-07:00

WELL we made it folks. Been married six years. If you're counting on your fingers-- that's TWO hands. I'm just sayin'.

Love you husband.

*I misspelled Anniversary in the title because the word and I are enemies. It was the word I misspelled in my one and only spelling bee in fourth grade. Just like that all my dreams of fame and fortune went out the window. We still aren't speaking.

Trust Me on THIS One.

2010-06-19T10:25:00.000-07:00

So. FLEW through these two books to pass the time while nursing. I LOVED them. They are post-apocalyptic books about the world being overcome by some disease which turns anyone infected into.... well essentially zombies.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth is about a girl named Mary and her survival and then the second is about her daughter named Gabrielle. DON'T write it off because it has zombies in it. JUST trust me.

Have I ever steered you wrong? Well for the most part?

Birth revisited.

2010-06-19T10:08:00.001-07:00

Now that I've maintained some semblance of sanity I GUESS I can relate a little more about the birth.

It was a scheduled C-section and despite my best attempts at deep cleaning my mom's house to induce earlier labor, it went right along as scheduled. The only benefit I got from cleaning besides a cleaner house was waking up the next morning feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. Maybe two.

We got to the hospital before the sun rose but ON TIME-- which was a miracle in and of itself. They strapped me up to a bunch of annoying things and then we waited. We watched a little TV--probably ESPN to keep the husband from getting bored. Then they wheeled me down to surgery which I have to say I LOVED. I, for the life of me, have no idea why children hate strollers. If I could be wheeled everywhere in my bed I SO would.

Then for my entertainment purposes they dressed the husband up in a too small jumpsuit.

Whatever happened to scrubs? Needless to say he was thrilled.

I got on the table and the anesthesiologist knocked the lower half of my body out. It was at that point I got nauseous and puked all over the husband. About this he was also thrilled.

They put up the magical blue curtain and I just laid there. Felt a little overwhelmed and started crying and then it was over. He appeared. His cry sounded a little bit like a dinosaur. (which of course is weird to say because I don't actually know what a dinosaur sounds like but if I had to guess this would be it... or at least that's what Jurassic Park ingrained in me)

And we named him Henry. He weighed 8'5.

Then later that night I renamed him.
So now he's Bennett. Benny Boy. The Bennenator. And I adore him.

A Couple of Things...

2010-06-06T10:01:00.001-07:00

I know I've been offline for a bit....

But look what Monkey #1 found:

I know it might come as a shock to some as I've never mentioned online that I was pregnant. But voila. Here is the darling that was nine months in the making.

Why didn't I mention it you ask?
Here's the thing. I've seen enough Law and Order/Hospital drama episodes to know that you don't want to tell strangers you're pregnant. Those who know me know me know that I'm slightly germaphobic as well as PARANOID. As my blog is public, I didn't want someone finding me and cutting out my baby to sell on the black market. Look Detectives Stabler and Benson (from L&O SVU) are TOTALLY on my side.

*I should confess that I have flat out lied to strangers who've asked when I'm due... even saying I'm not far along they're twins. PARANOID remember?

The birth went well. It was a c-section which is something I had never done before. The whole thing was surreal. Just lying there waiting to see what comes out when they lift curtain number one... it was just all very strange.

I think my biggest complaint was this:

If we can look past the picture of Popeye the Sailor, I would like to direct your attention to my arm. Yes. That's not one or two but FIVE hospital bracelets. My biceps are now lopsided. The big honker in the middle was kind of cool though because whenever they brought the monkey to me it played a little song to confirm that our bracelets matched.

So. There's that.

*If you would like a more detailed story about the birth you are going to have to man up and drop me a line.

Would You Rather...

2010-04-21T18:44:00.000-07:00

The Would You Rather Game has a special place in my heart.
You know, it's the one where someone says, would you rather eat dirt flavored ice cream or ice cream flavored dirt... and then you HAVE to choose.

I have this beloved friend Holland who would make me play the game EVERY SINGLE DAY we walked up to school in college. And the best part about her Would You Rather game was that it had a catch.
She would set up some outlandish scenario and you HAD to answer or the alternative was that they would kill your mother.

I would say,"Holland! I don't know!"
and she'd say, "You HAVE TO PICK OR THEY'LL KILL YOUR MOTHER."

What choice did I have? It was my MOM and THEY would kill her.
Some might think this morbid... for some reason with Holland it wasn't.

Anyway, this game came to mind because I recently had the pleasure of food poisoning and I was thinking of countless, would you rather have food poisoning or....

For me, throwing up is one of the WORST things that can possibly happen to me. I will choose just about any other illness over throwing up. Honestly. I would take a bad cold for two weeks over throwing up once.

And food poisoning is just so insulting because you paid for it. As I am sitting there tossing my 11 dollar dinner into the toilet, I'm just berating myself over and over again for ever having the idea to go out into the world and treat myself to dinner. It's just the universe saying, "where do you come off enjoying yourself?"

Oh well. At least the bathroom got cleaned early this week. SIGH.

Do you want to be my friend?

2010-04-15T18:58:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how it works with all of you, but if you want to be my friend it comes at a price. Case and Point.

The BEST part of the video is the fact that the kids have no reaction at all. They're like, "And....??"

I taught one week for a mommy taught preschool and decided to do this really cool experiment... well I would film and my friend RACHEL would perform the experiment. I mean look at her, she's trim and fit. CLEARLY the faster runner. Too bad we didn't figure out which way was downwind first.

I mean, not that she has anything to complain about. It was DIET soda. That's the not sticky kind. Plus I hear it does wonders for your hair and possibly even works as an anti-aging agent for the skin. Maybe this was an experiment for multiple things. I mean, if diet soda ends up being the secret to anti-aging cream I'll totally split the profit with RACHEL like 80-20. I did buy the soda after all.

The Downside

2010-04-12T18:59:00.000-07:00

As far as I know, renting out our house has been one of the most stressful things in my life. I mean, we've been really blessed.
Our first tenant never actually lived in the house because they were evading a federal indictment.
The second renters were too good to be true and they, themselves paid to have the house cleaned and carpet cleaned before they moved out. AND the husband tightened all the hoses from the fridge and washer.
Our third renter has been mostly great. She has taken SUCH good care of the place but she has ALWAYS paid around a half month to a month late. Now that she's leaving I have to muster more blind faith in a new person.

I'm currently in the phase of fielding calls and I've put together a few of my favorite.

Generally speaking, if someone asks you a question and then says,
"I'll call you back." You know they won't.

Or if they say, "I have to talk to my husband." HELLO people. I invented that line. That's how I get out of EVERYTHING in my life.
If a salesman calls I just say, my husband is very controlling and I'm not even allowed to go outside without his permission.
Nobody disputes the spousal claim. The spouse's absence from the confrontation is your best line of defense. And nobody can have hurt feelings either because nobody wants to come between YOU and your SPOUSE.

Or I got a call tonight.
Me: "Hello?"
prospective renter: "Hi, I'm interested in your house."
"Alright, what can I do for you?"
"This is my situation. I have HORRIBLE credit but I make a TON of money. Like a hundred thousand a month." (Those were HIS actual words not my interpretation)
"Okay...well you can send in an application."
"Well my house was foreclosed on three years ago. That's why I have bad credit. But don't worry I make a ton of money now."
I'm thinking. If you make a hundred thousand a month can't you just buy a house cash?
"Okay... you can fill out an application..."
Pretty sure we won't be renting to this one.

OR when I ask people if they want to see the property and they say, "No I don't really care what it looks like. I'm not picky."
RED FLAG. To me that's the same as saying. I am a dirty person. I could live in a hole for all I care and when I move into your pristinely kept house I will DESTROY it with all of my lovely filth.

Did I mention I hate the renting process? PLEASE just send me someone quiet, someone clean, someone who will pay within I don't know... at least a month of the deadline? That's all I ask.

Sew EXCITED!

2010-03-27T19:09:00.000-07:00

I am the proud new owner of a sewing machine. My mom called this morning and said, "Hey. Found a sewing machine at a garage sale. I bought it for you."

Some of you may find this odd as I am frequently paying people off to sew things for me.

But, for some reason, I am strangely excited. The last time I sewed something was in Home Ec. It was a stuffed animal platypus.

Picture This:

In the shape of this:

Yes it's as AWESOME as you are imagining.

With my new powerful machine I can now make things like this:

And make my monkeys wear things like this:

And make enough clothing for the trolls who have clearly been hit hard during these tough economic times. Seriously guys. You think you're struggling? At least you have clothes.

Of course the shirts will probably have to be mid-rifts. Wouldn't want to cover the family jewels.

I know you'll all wait with bated breath to find out how my creations turn out. Until then.

Loathing. Unadulterated Loathing.

2010-03-24T19:27:00.001-07:00

So if you were also your best friend, what would you hate about yourself? What would you go home and gripe to your spouse/boyfriend/roommate about?

I had to really stretch to find an answer for this one because naturally I am SO likable and hard to find ANY fault with.

But I think it would be my need to CONTROL. We'll call it bossy at worst, a fine leader at best.
Seriously guys, you want to see a meltdown? Change the time we're leaving from 5:30 to 5:45. I dare you.

Unfortunately my need to control doesn't convert to useful things like having an obsessively clean house, or being consumed by a need to exercise all the time. My need to control usually doesn't have to do with me at all actually. I need to control OTHER people.

In middle school I was in choir. The choir had officers, like president, vice, et cetera... what was the purpose of these officers? To this day no one actually knows. But anyway, as soon as I heard for the opportunity of power--POWER over the choir minions--I knew in my heart it had to be mine.

I planned, I plotted. I searched for a campaign slogan. I knew my greatest weakness was the fact that most people in the choir had known me since elementary school which also meant that they knew I was an incredibly BOSSY person. Then brilliance struck.

My slogan would be, "Vote for Emily--New and Improved! Non-bossy!
Aaaannddd--I lost. I have NO idea why.

Oh well. Who wants supreme choral power anyway?

PS I had to include a blurb from the book I'm currently reading. (Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams)

"The major problem--one of the major problems, for there are several--one of the many major problems with governing people is that of whom you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them.
To summarize: it is well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job...."

A Thoughtful Post.

2010-03-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

I really have spent a lot of thought on this post, I just couldn't come up with anything to say. I have a few other hundred things to do but somehow I am on here posting my very important non-thoughts.
So instead of rambling about something nonsensical, I command you to go and do the thing that you are putting off doing while you are looking at blog posts.

Technological OverLoad!

2010-02-16T19:27:00.001-08:00

My parents have Netflix and DVR. I do not have Netflix of DVR. When i am in town I develop the sudden inability to do anything at night other than record television shows or watch the newest Netflix I can find.

It gets trickier for not only do they have Netflix that comes in the mail (which gives you a kind of forced self restraint while waiting for the next movie), they have live streaming netflix. Needless to say, I have been watching a LOT of movies lately.

I just thought I'd post some highlights:

So... this is a swedish foreign film. My sis and I watched it mostly because my dad served a mission in Sweden. It's about a scienctific group studying the movement patterns of single males in the kitchen. So an observor would sit in a high chair (pictured on poster) and watch the single male in the kitchen. What was remarkable was that the entire movie.... nothing really happened. We mostly just sat and watched two men eat and talk but it was strange because you just couldn't stop watching.... kind of like a car wreck. Probably not a great recommendation, I just wanted to note it.

Here is my caution: DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE. It literally left me prostrate with grief. I couldn't sleep most of the night and had tragic dreams when I did. But if you like that kind of thing.... go for it.

Really loved this movie. It's about a girl who falls in love with a boy who has asperger's syndrome. It was really well done.

I had heard of this book a billion times... still haven't read it but I saw the movie and I really loved it. Worth renting.

And finally:

No I haven't actually seen this movie... not sure if I ever will.... but just read the synopsis.

An alien band of killer clowns descends from the cosmos to harvest scores of small-town victims, cocooning their prey in cotton candy to eat later. With the extraterrestrials disguised as simple circus workers, the authorities don't suspect a thing. But the joke is on the clowns when two streetwise teens (Grant Cramer and Suzanne Snyder), armed with an ice cream truck, do battle to save their friends in this cult favorite.

They had me at "cocooning their prey in cotton candy". And just look at the movie poster. "In space no one can eat ice cream". It has the makings of greatness no? I'm just saying.

Well what have YOU been doing?

2010-02-11T13:34:00.000-08:00

Look. I'm a stay at home zookeeper. That's what I do. I make sure the monkeys are fed and I try and negotiate peace treaties whenever possible.

I ran into an old high school friend's dad at the store the other day and he asked me what I was up to. I said, well basically what I said above but in a nicer way, and then he asked "What else?"

What else? What else is there? It's an interesting question because I often feel conflicted about it.

Have you ever seen the movie "In the Land of Women" ?
Well there's a part where Meg Ryan is monologuing about her life and how her family thinks she is a joke and thinks she doesn't do anything but the truth is she is BUSY all day long doing things for them. And then she laments that she doesn't want to wake up one day and realize that she was at the end of her life and had never even lived one.

And I get this. Because I know raising children is one of the most important and amazing things I will ever have the privilege to do. It's just hard to maintain perspective when all you do is wipe bums, noses, spills, and what not, and then think, I feel SO fulfilled because I am raising a human being. It's just such a long process that you really lack the instant gratification fuzzies that everyone desires. Sometimes I worry I will lose any notion of individuality and become buried under the "just a mom" rubble.

I've talked about this with husband before comparing the workplace to the home place. One of the differences between satisfaction at his job and satisfaction at mine is feedback. At work, his jobs are definitive, they are tangible. People will pat him on the back, (assuming he has done it right) when he is done and he gets paid to do them.

Then on my end I often sit on the couch in a daze at the end of the day knowing that I had to have done SOMETHING all day long, obviously the day is over so time has clearly passed, but sometimes I honestly cannot think of any one particular thing. I often go to bed thinking, well my children are still alive and mostly well so I must have done something in the relative right direction. Right?

It's funny though because if I DID get positive feedback it would seem so silly. If, for example, husband were to say, honey that was an amazing diaper changing job you just did, I might laugh out loud.

Maybe the feedback is watching the monkeys play a game and laugh so hard they fall over. Or when husband comes home and rough houses with them for far longer than i know he wants to so I can just go in the other room and enjoy the sound of my own thoughts. The feedback is when I walk in the room and monkey #1 tells me my socks look beautiful or monkey #2 calls my name from the other room and shouts, "sorry" while he is coloring on a tile.
I guess it's just nice to hear a "You're doing a good job. You are lovely. I will pay you for your hard labor in books and chocolate."

Anyway. Sorry for the long thoughts. Luckily you have ALL been saved because my children are screaming and I have to go divy up the cars again.

Red light! Red light!

2010-01-25T12:33:00.000-08:00

*** Sorry there seems to be some technical difficulties far beyond my capacity to comprehend. Hopefully it works for you, if not just try again later!

So... we were playing Red Light Green Light... or some version of it. Monkey #1, brilliant child that he is, took his turn, said "Green Light!"... then covered his face. Just wait for it.

Naughty Noah.

2010-01-23T17:50:00.000-08:00

So I was shopping for monkey #1's birthday and came across this puzzle.

Of course he happened to walk in and see it and said,

"Hey mom, Noah has a zebra coat."

Oh Noah. For shame.

Curious.

2010-01-19T07:21:00.001-08:00

Question. What's your favorite book? I mean THE book. The ONE book to rule them all. The book that if you were going to be stranded on a desert island with Dora the Explorer for the next twelve years would be the only thing that kept you sane?

I know it's REALLY hard, but I REALLY want to know. Also, religious texts don't count because there will be copies of whichever religosical (clearly made up word) books you prefer in a treasure chest under a palm tree.

Let me know. I'll wait.

The Maze Runner.

2010-01-13T19:23:00.000-08:00

Just read this baby. You should too.

*The Gist:A boy named Thomas wakes up one day in a box with absolutely no memory. The Box opens and he is welcomed into the "Glade" wherein there are 60 or so other teenage boys. They live inside a giant maze and have been trying everyday for years to find a way out. There are monsters, there's action and just about every chapter had me wanting to read the next one. A Page turner for sure.
Or as Wendy would call it, an instant gratification book. Enjoy!

Tiny.

2010-01-10T18:32:00.000-08:00

My eldest monkey is kind of obsessed with wanting to be a baby again. In fact he sometimes cries that he is a 'big boy'. He'll babble in baby talk, crawl on the ground, ask to be held like a newborn (not a small feat I assure you). It's not so much cute anymore as obnoxious yet somehow I still love him.

It's been all downhill since this picture for Monkey #1.

He frequently will say things like, "Mom I wish that I could be tiny and tiny and tiny and tiny and tiny and tiny and tiny and then I could fit under the door"

And yes that seems like an odd desire but sometimes I wish that I could be tiny and tiny and tinyx6 sometimes too.
Things were a LOT simpler back then. Bills were nothing more than warning signs to stay away from mom's room for the next 1 to 2 hours, babies were darling plastic things that would go to sleep and stay asleep until you were ready to wake up in the morning, and things like FunDip, Squeeze-Its (basically sugar syrup drinks) and Kids Cuisines (frozen dinners for kids) were all DELICIOUS.

And maybe some of you still LOVE FunDip and Squeeze-its. I TOTALLY get that but most of you are adults now and I'm pretty sure you can afford to have a doctor put sugar into you intravenously if you need that rush.

One thing I have not outgrown is dubble bubble bubble gum. It's this awesome little-not sure if it wants to be a cube or a sphere yet-piece of gum that explodes in pure dusty white sugar in your mouth.
*For those of you who are counting calories, don't worry, it quickly turns into cement and the strain with which you must chew it for the next ten minutes will burn all those excess calories away. In fact I'm willing to say it might be a negative calorie food. Like celery. Plus your body doesn't digest gum so there's nothing to add to your waistline right??? ;) College Nutrition class has SO paid off.
But now I'm the adult. I have the responsibility of being grouchy while paying bills, babies NEVER sleep when I politely ask them to, and I know about things like calories, fat content, negative sugar side effects.

I'm SO glad I'm a grown up.

On the Prowl

2010-01-07T10:57:00.001-08:00

Remember this beauty?
Well she's back on the market for rent or for sale! If you have any friends who are looking for temporal or eternal happiness in Arizona, let me know!

Harry Potter and The Thief

2010-01-04T17:12:00.000-08:00

Wow. That's a lot of tools, you say. What could you possibly need ALL those tools for?

Why to open the Harry Potter 6 Blu-Ray silly. That is, the Harry Potter Blu-Ray that my husband bought self check out with the security device still intact. "Oh don't worry about it!" the clerk said as the security gates screamed, "Wait, wait! The security case is still intact and will need a small nuclear bomb to remove!"

But my husband is strong. My husband is determined. No amount of plastic would keep his darling wife from watching the movie of her heart's desire.

At last. The shackles have fallen.

Harry Potter is not the only one who spilt blood in the fight against Voldemort.
Poor, poor warrior husband endures his battle wounds with composure.
He wouldn't even let me dress the wound with an extremely masculine Batman band-aid.

Where's Waldo Christmas Style

2009-12-22T13:47:00.001-08:00

So everyone has Christmas traditions. Many are normal, some are not. But what was normal for me as a child was playing the game "Where's Jesus?" My mom has this giant Fontanini nativity scene with lots of buildings and tents and stables and tons of people so NATURALLY we needed to make some sort of game out of it.

The rules were as follows. Everyone leaves the room. One person takes the baby Jesus from his cradle and hides him somewhere within the given bounds of the nativity scene. Such hiding places were, in barrels, in the rafters of the stable, wedged between the wheels of a wagon, in the leaves of the palm trees.... you get the idea.
And we would still be playing the game this year had baby Jesus not literally disappeared from our set. We put in a temporary Jesus that was much too small for the cradle but apparently the cradle has been cursed for he too was lost.
But don't worry. My boys brought in the experts. They even brought in the army just in case the SUPER heroes can't figure it out. 'Bucket of Soldiers' Dan is gathering forensic evidence. I'd say the outlook is good.
I'll keep you updated.

Baking Revisited.

2009-12-16T20:19:00.000-08:00

Clearly EVERYONE knows I am not a baker. Baking is frustratingly difficult to me and it TICKS me off that if you leave out the insignificant teaspoon of baking soda then the ENTIRE batch is RUINED.

Hang on. Let's take a step back. I'm being a little rough on poor little baking. It definitely has its purposes. I thoroughly enjoy eating OTHER people's baked goods. And unfortunately baking is often an important tool in securing your soul mate. So what can you do?

Case and point, since I am married I no longer NEED to bake. I will if absolutely necessary and then I will relish in the glory of all that I have created. Thus, some pictures.

Also, before you scroll down, you will probably notice I didn't actually do any actual baking unless you count boxed cake mix. BUT I did melt a lot of almond bark and just knowing what almond bark is should count for SOMETHING.

*(and the only reason I know what almond bark is is because of RACHEL the talented popcorn drizzler and cake ball quality controller who isn't afraid to tell me that I am the wimpiest spoon stirrer she has ever laid eyes on.)

They're mice. Stop speculating.

This was probably the most challenging of the dishes. I had to pop TWO bags of popcorn and then Rachel drizzled the chocolate. I really stretched myself on this one.

These are cake balls covered in white chocolate. I was going for snowballs and then I thought it would look SO fancy if I drizzled brown chocolate on them. Afterwards I remembered RACHEL is the only one good at drizzling. Now they just look like snowballs that encountered mud.

Anyway. Voila. Bet you wish you were at my house. Sharing is one of my talents.

On Children.

2009-12-10T18:32:00.000-08:00

*Note*i'm sorry but blogger is not letting me put spaces in between my paragraphs so I just typed the word BREAK instead.
I've been collecting a handful of short fragments of random thoughts and stories.

The other night my monkeys ran outside into the freezing cold night and when I dragged them back inside and exclaimed "What were you thinking?!?" They said, "We were out there being nightmares!" See, they are fully aware. It's not just me.

My sister just revealed to me that when she was little she had this great fear that someone would think that she knew too much and try and run her down with a car. These are the things that are keeping youth up at night these days.

Monkey #2, poor monkey-just-got-the-worst-haircut-of-his-life #2, has this terrible habit of getting out of his bed a thousand times before going to sleep. I said, "If you get out of your bed one more time what happens?"

He said, "I'll get my bottom swatted"

Me: That's right. (Swatting his bum being my usual punishment for this offense)

Him: and I'll get it pinched and bitted too?

Me: Well, if you insist.

BREAK

Monkey #2 AKA the great manipulator, will ask me for something like,

Him:can I watch TV?

Me:No. Not right now.

Seeing failure on my front he then changes tactics and goes to my mother (his nana)

Him: Nana can I watch TV?

Nana: What did your mom say?

Him: (putting on an extremely endearing pouty face and fakes sobbing) My mom said no and she said that she would NEVER let me watch TV ever again.

Nana: Oh poor sweet baby. Let nana help you.

This is what I have to deal with people.

BREAK

I realize most of these stories are about monkey #2 but that is because we've had this strange flip flop where monkey 1 went from problem child to easy child and vice versa. This having kids close together thing is EXHAUSTING.

BREAK

Also, went and saw The Fantastic Mr. Fox the other night and let me just say, it was totally worth it. I loved it. It's different, I'll just warn you now, but I thought it was FANTASTIC. How appropriate.

What English Sounds Like.

2009-11-29T18:51:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder what English sounds like to people who don't understand it? Adriano Celentano did.

I stole this vid from my sissie's blog. It's a song called Prisencolinensinainciusol written by Adriano Celentano in the 70's. He was Italian and famous for writing songs whose lyrics have absolutely no meaning but mimic American rock soul funk. If you don't focus on the words... say like I never do when I am shopping... you might not notice that they are complete gibberish. I am going to have to start paying more attention to what Wal-mart is playing.

Okay. Picture Post.

2009-11-29T18:25:00.000-08:00

Here is a list of pics that every time i took I thought, I will put that on the blog... and surprise surprise... never did. And for those of you who like slightly less wordy posts--enjoy.

If you can attain a higher level of comfort I would like to know what it is.

This is how we play Mr. Potato Head.

Where Monkey #1 prefers to sleep. (for those who can't comprehend the pic, his head is underneath the tractor)

If you can guess what this is I will send you a custom made cd with songs of the most refined musical taste.

I know you probably can't tell but I have never IN MY LIFE seen larger earthworms since I have lived here. And what's wrong with him anyway? Blood clots? dirt clots? Does he just need a good blemish cream? Do I even know if blemish creams are actual products? (No. but they sound like they could be)

Who says I can't remodel a bathroom? (after my brother in law did everything except grout)

Look closely. Does this really seem like a good idea grandma?

I should probably never have girls. We don't play 'house', we line up all of our toys and bomb them with fireworks. (the ones that pop when you throw them on the ground)

And there you have it. Some of the going ons in my world.

And that was funny.

2009-10-29T20:29:00.000-07:00

Two funny conversations tonight.

First, the hubby and I often get into REALLY random conversation topics... tonight's starting with me saying, "I'm really glad I don't have short fingers."
hubby: Why? Short fingers could be good.
me: WHEN are short fingers ever good?
hubby: well if you're a lumberjack.
me: what???
hubby: shorter they are the less chance you have of chopping them off.

This is what we call pre-law school finals brain.

And then, monkey #1

(I had already put him to bed)
monkey: Mom I'm scared
me: why?
monkey: There are monsters in my room.
me: where? there's no monsters in here.
monkey: Yes, if i close my eyes and use my imagination I can see two eyes right over there. (he points) You see?

That's funny. I do the same thing when Kendall's gone late at night...

Stranger Danger

2009-10-11T18:50:00.000-07:00

Periodically I will give the monkeys hypothetical scenarios where strangers try to lure them away and then I ask them what they would do.

The latest conversation went like this...

So, what if a stranger came up to you and was like 'Hey I have a really cool Lightning McQueen in my car do you want to come see it?'

Then the monkeys proceed to say 'NO! We run away! We yell for mommy! We hit and bite and run!'

'What if a man says 'Hey i have some candy! Come with me and I will give you some.'

'No! WE run away. We yell for mommy!'

'What if a woman says 'Hey I have a CUTE puppy in my car do you want to come see it?"

'No!.... (You get the idea)"

I say, "Good job boys!" and figure the conversation has been successful and is over.

Then Monkey #1 pipes up 'And THEN what if a space ship comes, no a big truck, no a MACHINE! What do you do then?'

I have no idea.

For What?

2009-10-09T08:50:00.001-07:00

Hope not to offend anyone too deeply... you'll get over it.

But the NOBEL PEACE PRIZE? Obama? REALLY? For what?

If this accomplishes anything it does nothing else but makes the title

"Nobel Peace Prize Winner"

MEANINGLESS.

I don't get it. Maybe I never will. But if the OBama's of the world are winning the peace prizes then what are the people who are REALLY doing good being awarded?

WHAT the HECK?

2009-10-02T21:12:00.001-07:00

So the topic is fairy tales. And you know if you take a lot of them literally they are actually pretty gruesome... (little red riding hood, Hansel and Gretel, etc.)

And then there's Bluebeard.

Has ANYONE else heard of this? It's a French fairy tale which you can read an annotated version of here.

But the condensed version is this. A man named Bluebeard (who has previously had several wives who have all disappeared mysteriously), marries one of two sisters. He is very very wealthy. He has to leave town on business and so he leaves her the keys to all of the rooms in his house which are full of silver and gold, and fine furniture, and such. BUT he instructs her to NEVER enter the little closet.

Well she does. And when she does she finds the room is strewn with blood and the corpses of all his previous wives are hanging around the room.... Her brothers eventually show up and kill him and she uses the money for all kinds of good causes...

so.......................... WHAT??? I mean there is not even ANYTHING remotely fairy tale-ish in it. At least in Hansel and Gretel you have a house made of candy as consolation.

Poor, poor French children. That explains a lot.

FURTHERMORE

2009-09-23T21:26:00.000-07:00

A friend casually mentioned that there are ants that eat electrical wires. I didn't believe her.
And then I got bit on the toe while it was underneath my desk next to a BUNCH of electrical wires....

So I checked it out.

It's true. I thought I had met the CRAZIEST of ants. but actually there are even CRAZIER ants officially named "crazy raspberry ants". Crazy because they are well... crazy. Raspberry for a pioneer in extermination Tom Raspberry.

So now. I not only have to fight to protect my flesh, I also have to protect my computer's flesh. What the heck? oH WELL. On the bright side, maybe my computer will see that I'm defending her and like me more.

The Ant Wars

2009-09-21T13:51:00.000-07:00

We moved into our place about a month ago and from Day One I have been waging personal war with ants.

But these are not normal ants. These are ants who were not loved enough as children and have LOST their MINDS. They don't invade because they think there is a nearby food source. No they don't have positive constructive goals. They invade for the sole purpose of torture. I find them in my bathroom CONSTANTLY. They like to hang out in the hallway and gossip about me. And this morning, I put on a pair of jeans. A pair of jeans that had been neatly folded in my closet and an ant BIT ME on the back of my thigh.

He was hiding out during some sort of manic high just to partake of my flesh. And the worst part is it is high up on the back of my thigh so it looks like I'm scratching my DARE-E-AIR.

So if you see me at Wal-Mart shopping for ant poison and scratching my butt... I'm not. It's my UPPER THIGH. Anyway. Until then, the battle rages on.

Documentation.

2009-09-11T14:09:00.001-07:00

Kendall and I at the San Diego temple.

Monkey #2 and I kickin it on the rockiest beach ever. And finally. There I am. In all my glory. Thank you Dramamine.

K.

2009-09-10T19:44:00.000-07:00

This is a public service announcement that this post will be long. It will be painful. It will make you cringe. You might find you have tears rolling down your cheeks. Said tears might be from laughter. OR pain. It's your prerogative. But I promise it will make you feel better about your life.

Anyway. Ahem. *cracking knuckles before I begin*

Ah the wedding of my dear brother-in-law and new sister-in-law. The weekend had finally come. It promised to be full of bliss, and wedding, and wedded bliss.

26 of us were going to stay in my in-laws 4 bedroom 2.5 bathroom house for approximately 4 days. It was a joyous time. So much sharing of love. So much sharing of germs.

Day One: The first casualty. One of my sweet sister-in-laws falls victim to the vicious stomach flu. She attempts to quarantine herself. It mostly worked. Fortunately I speak the language of germs. Unfortunately they don't have a concept of the word 'mostly'.

Day Two: Wedding Day. We leave the house at 4 am to make it to San Diego. I sneeze 14 and a half times before I get in the SPACIOUS 15 passenger van. Another of my brother in-laws who idolizes my every move started copying me and was sneezing too.

My nose runs all four hours of the drive to San Diego. Fortunately I had taken Dramamine and slept through it all with my head tilted back and my mouth WIDE open. I will take this moment to share how blessed I am to have a sweet sister-in-law who took careful thought to photograph this so we could make BFF sister-in-law scrapbooks later. I'll post THAT pic ASAP.

The wedding was beautiful. The bride was beautiful. The groom was classy. They smiled, they laughed, we piled back into the 15 passenger van and drove 5 hours back to Santa Barbara. Didn't take Dramamine this time. BIG mistake. Longest, snottiest, five hours of my life.

Reception was beautiful. Two chocolate fountains. That's all I ask out of a reception.... That's all I ask out of life really....

We go home. To bed.

Day Three: We wake up to the downstairs toilet backing up and a sweet and sour nauseating smell wafting on the gentle California breeze. My father-in-law exiles us to the Institute building (a church classroom facility for young adults), for the entire day.

The monkeys and their cousins run wild. Papers are scattered. Permanent sharpees are liberated on white boards. The chocolate fountains are turned back on and the lady fingers are devoured.

We finally get to go home. My husband-the lucky son of a gun-Kendall leaves on Monday. I am to leave on Tuesday.

My father-in-law drops us off at LAX-I might be Satan's vacation home-airport, with seemingly plenty of time. Southwest's computers are down. We stand in line. Monkey Number one starts yelling, "I'm going to throw up! I'm going to throw up!" (He doesn't. Yet.) Monkey number one also is having breathing problems. He can't get enough air to stand up straight and is consequently lying limp in the stroller whilst monkey number 2 coughs and snots on as many fellow passengers as possible.

We check our bags. (When I say we I mean my brother and sister -in law) We are out of time. The plane is about to leave. I leave them behind and get in the security line. (I am NOT missing this plane). LAX is TRAINING an x-ray guy. We stand in the family x ray line for over half an hour. There are only 7 people in front of me. HALF AN HOUR!

I take monkey Number one out of the stroller to put it through the x-ray machine. He crumples to the ground. I have to push him through the security x ray. I throw monkey number one back in the stroller and then the security guard wants to do a litmus test on my boy's sippee cups.
I look at him and say, "THROW THEM AWAY." Monkey number two and I take off running in our not so white anymore socks, to the VERY LAST GATE possible. Seriously. It might have been located in a different state.

We BARELY make the plane. My bro and sis in law did not. There went the hired help. I realize that I left my car seat on the x-ray belt. I forget it and briefly mourn its loss. There are no seats left together. There I am with my two monkeys one barely breathing and no one will move. Finally three people get up and I burst into tears. We're talking uncontrollable sobs. I sit down. Monkey number one throws up and goes to sleep. This is what he will do the rest of the flight. Throw up and sleep, throw up and sleep.

Meanwhile I can't stop crying. I am so exhausted and sick. I just can't stop. The flight attendant brings me a sprite. The sprite has a stirring stick in it. I don't think about this at the time or the extra kick the soda had. I even offered some to monkey number two but he was content with his juice. I finish my drink and the flight attendant says, "Did you enjoy your cocktail? Do you feel better?"
*records come to a screeching halt.*

WHAT? HE SPIKED MY DRINK? I mean I guess I'll never know. I did feel more relaxed but I just assumed it was because I was finally on the plane. but WHAT THE HECK!
I'm sure his intentions were good and he just wanted to calm the hysterical sobbing mother down but WHAT? Who does that?

Anyway. We landed. Possibly with elevated blood alcohol levels, and when I saw my dad waiting to pick me up, I teared up again. I took monkey number one to the children's emergency center. They pumped him up on drugs and breathing treatments which I had to give him EVERY half hour that entire night. (30 minutes - 20 minutes of breathing treatment = 10 minutes of sleep every half hour)

But as all great stories do, it comes to an end. We are home again. Monkey number one is doing MUCH better. The painful memories are being tempered as each day passes. Soon this will all be hilarious. But for now, feel free to leave a comment that is gushing with pity. You can also feel free to make monetary donations. Whichev. I'm just sayin'.

(Sorry for choppy sentences. I am so so tired. Please translate or have the germs translate for you)

Crime and Preschool

2009-08-27T19:11:00.000-07:00

Ah! The start of a new school year. A time to meet new people, define who you are, make first impressions....

Monkey #1 is starting preschool in a kind of joy school program, (mom taught). Today was the meeting to collaborate and work out the kinks. I would be meeting a handful of people I did not know. First impressions!

So I plan ahead. I leave my house on time, I get there first, I pull into the cul-de-sac and as I turn around to unbuckle the apes, I find that I have been escorted by the PO-lice.

Now I had passed this officer a good WAYS down the road and thought nothing of it. I wasn't speeding, I wasn't lagging, I wasn't driving in and out of either lane like it was my own obstacle course, and YET. There he was.

(BACK STORY) We renewed our registration last month but have yet to put it on our windshield because our windshield is pretty much cracked in half and I'm sorry but a shiny new registration sticker is not going to help Ms. Honda's self esteem at this point, so we are on the verge of getting a new one. For us, 'on the verge' encompasses about a three month window.

ANYWAY. So apparently at some point as we passed each other he shouted, "Go go gadget eyes!" and picked out the tiny expired numbers that sealed my fate. Now this wouldn't normally have been a problem. I've been pulled over before. Several times. Whatev.

But I was currently sitting right in front of this other preschool mom's house. So I sit there with a shiny cop car behind me, his lights in their red and blue swirling glory and died a thousand humiliating deaths as the other mothers show up one by one.

I even said, "Listen do you think we could move over a few blocks?" but he told me he would be quick. Just quick enough to be branded as the preschool criminal. Thanks a lot officer jerkstore. (Outside of your job I'm sure you're a lovely man)

To make matters worse my insurance was expired by three days. We just moved! I can't even find my good curling iron! How in the heck am I supposed to know where my new insurance card is? Sheesh.

And THEN when the meeting is over and I am getting my kids in the car, my glasses fell in the gutter, which thing I did not take notice of. This led to a five hour search of my house, my husband telling me maybe I lost my glasses because I need to go to the doctor, me imagining all sorts of eye diseases all of which led to blindness, and a night time search of the street with a flashlight.

BUT Ta-da! This blog is only possible because I FOUND them. Happily ever after the end.

The Three F's

2009-08-05T20:16:00.000-07:00

Walter Cannon was the first to describe the 'acute stress response' more commonly known as the 'fight or flight' response. This theory states that animals (or humans), react to threats with a general discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, (if it's written really small it won't seem as scientific or boring) which primes us or them for fighting or fleeing.

In the Ray's usual fashion of striving to add to the world of scientific academia, my family has discovered a third F. When faced with a terrifying situation whether it be real mortal danger or Kendall jumping out from behind the couch, we entertain the options of fighting, fleeing, or flopping.

Not all humans can perform the flop for it is a complicated series of super-hyper-neuronical brain message waves that tell our bodies that the best thing to do is collapse into a heap on the floor and cry.

Monkey #2 has perfected the flop and frequently practices the method in such games as hide-and-seek, tag, or just everyday-I-wasn't-expecting-you-to-walk-around-that-corner, behavior.

I'll be the first to admit that he gets it from MY side of the family. Yes, I too engage in the flop from time to time, but I have found that as I've grown older and slightly wiser it is advantageous to combine the flop with a little bit of fight now and again.

For example: Kendall(husband), will occasionally get confused and think that somehow because he is having a tickle fight with the monkeys that I too would like to be involved.

This is ALWAYS false.

If this confusion does occur however, I will flop on the ground but cleverly move my legs in a swift scissor like fashion giving nary any care to where or what body parts they happen to strike. Unfortunately for Kendall, my legs do not come with a sensor that deters them from the midsection. He'll figure it out someday.

It takes years to master the flop/fight combo, a talent I have been nursing since the wee years of childhood. My mother would frequently try to coax us into letting her tickle us using pleas like, "I gave birth to you, I can tickle you if I want" or "Okay. I'll make you a deal. Let me tickle you for five seconds. Five seconds is all I'm asking. Then I'm done!," or after attempting to tickle us and being repelled she whimpers, "You hurt me! Ow! You hurt your aging mother. Now you have to let me tickle you". Let me be a cautionary tale. There is no excuse for tickling no matter how cunning or convincing the person. Do not fall prey to these antics as I often did.

Even the most experienced can fall prey to her cunning tactics. A swift scissor kick or wild waving arm swipe would be appropriate here.

Excuse me sir, there's a snake up your nose.

2009-08-02T19:31:00.001-07:00

So my parents live on an acre that backs up to a nature preserve AND they have a pond in their backyard so needless to say, we tend to have a lot of snakes roaming about.
It is a fairly common occurence for my mom to be gardening and start screaming shrilly like her hand was just cut off only to find out that a little garden snake had crossed her path. I think the neighbors just ignore her now so I help she never REALLY does have to scream for help.
We typically find snakes in the gardens, the garage, the grass, the bushes, the porch, and old men's noses. (see picture below)

Apparently old man birdhouseface's nostrils were useful for a little skin shedding.
The day this happened I tried to relate this story over the phone to my friend Wendy but it went something like this.
"Hey Em what's up?"
"Hey! You'll never believe what we found! We have this birdhouse shaped like an old man and a snake crawled through its nose and left the skin behind!"
"You have a birdhouse shaped like an old man?"
"Yeah, on the tree."
"And the birds go inside his nose?"
"Yeah... the two little holes..."
*Wendy struggling to picture this lawn ornament in a way that doesn't sound tacky white trash, but failing.
"That sounds nice... I'm sure it looks really great. Your mom always has such good taste."
"Yeah... but the snake... its skin was..."
And we changed the subject

Hopefully, now that I have a picture coupled with the story, I can redeem the family taste in lawn decor.

A Few Miles South of Kansas

2009-07-28T16:59:00.000-07:00

Living in Tornado Alley makes you more prone to things like tornadoes and man eating cicadas. This was a new concept to my husband when we moved here. I remember one night when we were staying at my parent's hosue. The town's tornado siren started going off in the middle of the night and so I and my family sprung into action relocating ourselves to the most interior room of the house. When I am almost there, I realize that Kendall is not behind me. I go back to our bedroom and he is still lying in bed.

I say, "Kendall!"

And he says, "What? You mean seriously!?"

There wasn't a tornado that night but had there been he would have been TOAST. ;)

Anyway. About a month ago we had another BIG storm. I mean, the sky was swirling, the rain was sideways, the tornado sirens were going off. We all huddled in the bathroom while it passed and when we emerged this is what we found.

This is a fallen tree, formerly the top of one of our trees.
This one was THIS close to becoming a member of the fallen trees club.
This is the patio with lots of little branches that are OBNOXIOUS to clean up.

The next two are pictures of our indentured servants doing a little cleanup

So we survived almost tornado number two. Hopefully there won't be a third but until then...

Five Books Richer.

2009-07-23T12:11:00.000-07:00

Having received a few gift cards to Barnes and Noble for my birthday, I finally went and used them. I LOVE getting these type of gift cards because I just shrug my shoulders and say, "Well I can't use the money anywhere else so I guess I'll just have to buy an overpriced book."

It's totally different than getting birthday cash becuase when there are loose dollar bills in my hand I get nagged by guilt that tells me I should be spending it on useful and necessary things like bills or chocolate.
So I bought about five books I've been wanting for a while, my favorite of which is this:

Yes. It's true. Just when you thought Pride and Prejudice couldn't get any better, IT HAS. It's basically the same story... only this time Elizabeth has to deal with Mr. Darcy AND zombies. Adds an interesting dynamic eh? Eh? It's possible Jane Austen might turn over in her grave but as for me, it will rock my world.

So many things I need to talk about like the almost tornado, the snake that took up residence in an old man's nose, and the lyrics my son makes up in his freetime. until then.

Only the Good Die Young

2009-06-12T12:37:00.000-07:00

okay. Here's the rules. Put your itunes/windows media player/whatever on random and then fill in the answers. The song's name is the answer to the question. No skipping ahead. It's more fun this way. You'd be surprised how often the planets will align themselves for you.

IF SOMEONE SAYS 'ARE YOU OKAY' YOU SAY?
Loser by Beck
Don't worry. If this was what I would actually say, I would never say it out loud.

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF
Sugar Sugar by the Archies
Oh. How appropriate. Itunes knows me very well.

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Go by Andy Hunter
A command. I do like it when I am obeyed.

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
The One I Love by Greg Laswell
Well, I have thought about the one I love a lot today. He was subpoenaed and had to drive four hours to appear in court. (I spent about four hours trying to figure out how to spell subpoenaed)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Presume Too Much by Merz
I had always presumed that I knew every song in my library. I had never heard this one before and just finished listening to it for the first time. It's -so-so.

WHAT'S YOUR MOTTO?
Your Fortune's Gonna Leave You by Johnny Action Figure
Well. It probably will.

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
The Call by Regina Spektor
They all know it only takes one call to receive the BEST advice of their lives.

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
The Hard Way Every Time by Jim Croce
This may be true for some, but I was the PERFECT child/teenager/young adult/adult and I NEVER had to learn things the hard way. Not once.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Speeding Cars by Imogen Heap
Hmmm maybe subconsciously.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Same by Snow Patrol
Wherever you are I am thinking the exact same thing as you.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Not Tonight by Tegan and Sara
It's true. It's much too exciting for you to read tonight. You'll never be able to fall asleep.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Mine all mine by Shedaisy
I hope I'm still mine.

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Two Points for Honesty by Guster
And ten points if you all lie and say only nice things about me.

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Stuttering by Ben's Brother
This is something I like to do on the side of my hobbies.

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
White Houses by Vanessa Carlton
Only if Obama is living in them.

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
I'm a Believer by Smashmouth
And you'll never know just what exactly this refers to. But I do also believe in this.

WHAT DO YOU WANT RIGHT NOW?
Outside by Aqualung
This is a lie. I spent all morning weeding and I am done with my outsideness for today.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Singalong by Blue Man Group
Yes, I think all of my friends do need to learn the lyrics to all of my fav songs so they can then sing as backup.

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel

I tag all of you. And if you don't do it, the next time you ask me how I am I will say, "loser".

The lion, the lament, and the singalong blog.

2009-06-03T20:12:00.000-07:00

So I was trying to think of something fabulous to say and these are the first three thoughts that ran through my head.

1. A mental image of Prince John the lion from the cartoon Robin Hood.
(not sure why as I have not seen this movie in YEARS)

2. A lamentation of the fact that in a mere eight hours the day starts all over again.

3. The line "What a crazy random happenstance!" from Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog.

For those of you who have NEVER heard of this... Here is just one of the songs.

And that was just ONE song. Think of what it could be in its entirety on Hulu!
(disclaimer-In the complete version there is a short inappropriate blurb from Captain Hammer in the laundromat so you might want to plug your ears or skip ahead a few seconds at that part)

anyway. I do have COHERENT things I want/need to post, they just all involve pictures and or scanning of sixth grade drawings from forgotten spiral notebooks, so everyone will just have to hold the ponies back a little bit longer. "Peace--but not you know, really peace"-Dr. Horrible

All Hail Booch-A-Nan

2009-05-25T19:19:00.000-07:00

School has changed since I was a wee one. We were quizzing my sister today for her history final and the question was "Who was President during the Dred Scott Supreme Court Decision?"
Her answer: Booch-A-Nan.
Me: What?
Her(very slowly): BOOCH-A-Nan
Me: Are you speaking English?
Her: Yes. It was President Booch-A-Nan
Me: Booch-A-Nan also known as Buchanan?
Her: oh. yes.
I'm SURE she was just joking around. But still. It was great. I'll never see that man the same way again.

I've lost my marbles.

2009-05-18T20:16:00.000-07:00

Monkey 1 walked into the living room today and said, "Mom, I think I lost my mind. Have you seen it?"

I don't know but wherever it is, I think mine is there too.

I've spent the week editing and editing and editing and the biggest thing I learned is that I know nothing about commas. The majority of the time was therefore spent doing comma control. I think it's time to cozy up with Strunk and White's Elements of Style for a while.

But that's done now and I am washing my hands of it and sending it to an editor.

Here is something I'm looking forward to:

I have not seen it but I will buy it and watch it and love it, I think.

And now for a 'Something I Regret' story.

In college (yes, all my best stories take place in college evidently), I realized I was going to be forced to participate in some sort of athletic activity as part of my education's general requirements.
I got this REALLY good idea to enroll in all of these dance classes like ballet, jazz, and clogging. This is how it went.
First day: Jazz class. Learned we would be required to perform solo for final at end of class. Walked out.
Second day: Ballet. Learned we had to wear leotard and tights. Walked out.
Third day: Clogging. Learned you had to be able to walk in a straight line. Walked out.

I took basketball instead and didn't walk out. This is how that went.
[Coach says:] "Okay guys it's time for scrimmages.
We split into two teams. The lead guy on my team assigns everyone positions then turns to me and says, "Okay, you just run around and distract everyone." And I don't think he meant with my FABULOUS looks. I think he just wanted me to confuse everyone by stealing the ball and running to the opposing teams basket and stuff. You know. Really throw them off their game.

The next class I took and did not walk out of was Tae Kwon Do. My friend Wendy took it with me and I'm pretty sure the main reason we did it was for the SUPER cool outfits. What we did not know was that the class would require several hundred bruises as well as blood. When we realized our plight, we befriended our teacher Johnny Oh, (who i believe Ashley Walker might know), and brought homemade desserts to his house in exchange for passing grades as well as Pay Per View Ultimate Fighting Championships.

But let's bring it back to the topic, 'Things I Regret'.
Our Tae Kwon Do final was swiftly approaching as was Shania Twain's one time appearance in Salt Lake City. I swear Johnny knew this because he scheduled his final exam review for THAT night,, crushing all my hopes and dreams of seeing Shania live. (No my Shania Twain Live VHS tape I got for Christmas in seventh grade does not count)
We told him we would cater his next Ultimate Fighting party but he wasn't having any, he being of the opinion that Shania was not the country goddess whose music alone could save us from black eyes and blue tears. So we didn't go. We stayed and reviewed the moves we had learned.
Aw well, at least I can say I broke a board with my head now. How many people can say that? Probably not Shania.

Important Updates

2009-05-13T19:15:00.000-07:00

Just a few very important updates:

1. Unsuccessful in convincing Landlord that blinds with bite marks in them were in style and therefore did not need to be replaced.

2. Found new body wash that makes you feel minty fresh in places that have never been minty fresh before.

3. Passed 80,000 word count in current writing project and still don't have an ending.

4. Moved to Dallas for the summer despite the three lizards sharing our storage unit.

5. Will soon lose my title as youngest in-law in my husband's family due to bro-in-law Jared robbing the cradle.

6. Monkey #1 tried to get out of time-out by saying "Have I told you your hair looks nice today?"

7. Forced husband to watch Twilight and now must endure constant 'If only Edward were here' references.

8. Spilled half of an industrial sized bug poison in the backseat of my car and now have to wait three minutes before getting in so the toxic fumes can dissipate.

9. Have been without Itunes for six months now and can't get Viva La Vida by Coldplay out of my head. Oh who would ever want to be king?

10. Don't really have a tenth update but like Adrian Monk, I just need this.

Anyway, Dallas-ites, I'm up for chillin like a villains whenever you are.

What I Can Offer Your University.

2009-04-28T20:33:00.001-07:00

I was reminded tonight of my scholarlastical EXCELLENCE and could not resist giving you a little peek into what it is like to be BRILLIANT beyond your years.

I graduated from Brigham Young University a ways back with a bachelor's in Psychology, (yes, I've already diagnosed half of you as crazy whilst I remain absolutely sane. My degree, if nothing else, qualifies me to do this). The field of psychology was honored as out of my 13 actually at one time declared majors, I picked it to be one of the lovely feathers in my hat.

*13 is only slightly an exaggeration but I should throw out that at one point I was an International Affairs major so that I could work for the CIA on SUPER SECRET butt kicking missions. Nursing (Ashley Walker might have a vague memory of this), Chemistry, Business, Social Work, Earth and Space Sciences (wanted to be a tornado chaser), English, Elementary Education, and Geography were just a few of the others. I'm still surprised that I actually did ALL of the official paperwork each time I changed my mind but now I'm beginning to think that BYU had pretend papers to give people like me that they would put into my "official" school file.
Anyway, there was a point to this post and that was to illustrate my SUPERIOR INTELLIGENCE.
For my first example I should point out that ANYONE can give the 'correct' answer in classroom discussions but it takes a different type of person, a brave and innovative thinking kind of person to give an absolutely irrelevant and unrelated answer with COMPLETE sincerity.

Case and Point:
I took a US history class, probably during my international affairs phase, one semester. I took this class with one of my bffs which was a good thing because she served as an EXCELLENT deflector when my 'creative' answers went awry. In fact I should probably note that the only reason I passed the class was probably because of my association with her. I'll explain.

The class was run like any other history class I've taken except with one glaring difference. THE TEACHER HATED ME. I do not lie. There is proof*. Ask Mackenzie. I will e-mail her contact info upon request.
Side note:Now that I mention Mackenzie I should probably mention that he was IN LOVE with her and thought every word that came out of her mouth was divinely inspired.

One day, not really having any idea what the teacher was talking about, I get this gut feeling that it's time. It's time to raise my hand and make some life changing comment. I think we were discussing AMERICAN women in colonial times and somehow my brain flashes to a PBS documentary I had watched in like tenth grade on ROMAN women. So I raise my hand and draw some obscure (so obscure I can't even make one up) connection. I do not exaggerate when I say the class fell silent except for the quiet hum of the projector. My teacher locked eyes with me for the briefest of moments as if to say 'you are the stupidest person I have ever NOT had the pleasure of teaching and I would publicly fail you right here and now if you weren't so closely associated with my student crush Mackenzie.' And then he continued the lecture as if I hadn't even spoken. As if I DID NOT even exist. Whatev. I have my own degree now and I deem him insane.

For my second example I should point out that giving irrefutably incorrect answers and sticking with them to the grave, is endearing and will often win you the allegiance of lifelong friends.

I took psychological stats and research class and during one of the first days of class the teacher asked a question and I raised my hand giving the answer, population. The teacher told me politely that I was wrong and continued on but I knew I was RIGHT and HE was WRONG. So for some reason, probably as some kind of self comforting mechanism, I kept repeating it's population, it's population, it's population, under my breath.** I wasn't aware but the stranger I was sitting next to noted this and later told me that she decided she wanted to be my friend based solely on my doing this. (For the record the answer was population).

Anyway, I could go into how we did our research project on ice cream preference and brought ice cream into class to help the teacher remember it isn't always the accuracy of the work that counts. But I won't. I'm tired and I doubt any of you have read this far anyway. But if you have, way to go! Hopefully my tips will help you if faced with any future classroom situations.

*I can also give you proof in the form of a situation wherein Mackenzie basically wrote BOTH her and my papers and hers got an A+ and mine got a B-.
**though this behavior may be reminiscent of the mentally unstable please remember that I have a degree and can therefore declare that I am completely sane.

Things I Won't Do.

2009-04-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

I've decided to occasionally post things under a category called 'Things I Won't Do'.

Today's is rollerblading.

When I was younger I had this friend named Melissa Cole who had this pair of roller skates. I was jealous of her because when she wore them, it was kind of MAGICAL. Like she was floating on air. She could spin and turn and go backwards and most importantly she could BRAKE. The spinning and the turning was great but I mention braking because without the ability to do this, traveling around on any kind of wheels transforms from mundane to terrifying.

Granted, she was on roller skates and therefore had the benefit of four wheels, but having wheels on the bottom of your shoes is having wheels on the bottom of your shoes when it comes down to it. I got a pair of rollerblades shortly thereafter, attempted to skate, moved forward well enough but never developed the skill to brake. I put them in a closet and never looked at them again.

Well. In college, my friend Wendy decided we should go rollerblading. I, having forgotten I lacked this vital skill, went along blissfully unaware of what awaited me. It was actually an enjoyable time with lots of long flat stretches wherein I could just coast and coast and coast until I stopped. For example, if my friend were to suddenly glimpse a squirrel anxiously conferring with a turtle and call for me to stop, I would have to just keep rolling and rolling until I was a several hundred feet away and then turn around slowly and try to calculate the place where I should stop pushing and begin rolling again in an attempt to stop near her.
HOWEVER. On the way back, the last stretch of sidewalk had a small downward incline. I began to pick up speed until the realization washed over me that I would have to find a way to stop or hurtle off the path into a river. So off the path I veered. Once my wheels were off the sidewalk they betrayed me and I slid feet first on my back through the forest. When I got up I realized my backside felt a little breezy. It was justified in feeling this way because my back pocket had caught on something and had COMPLETELY ripped the back of my jeans OFF. So. Not a good experience.

But evidence for the case against my intelligence continues to mount.
A few months later another friend, Mackenzie, invites me to go rollerblading. It was spring semester and we were roommates and for some reason had this unspoken contract that WHATEVER the other person asked you to do you HAD to do. We supported each other in EVERY endeavor. I don't know why. WE JUST DID.
So I said yes. The trouble started in the parking lot this time, before we had even reached the trail. Now in my defense, the parking lot was deceptive. It LOOKED flat. It truly did. Now remember, I can't stop so one second I'm standing by the car talking to Mackenzie and the next time she looks up I am hurtling across the parking lot towards a chain link fence.
Mackenzie is yelling, "STOP! USE THE BRAKE!" and I'm screaming, "I CAN'T!!! I DON'T KNOW HOW!"
She yells something like "WHAT?"
The fence is drawing closer and closer and I think, this is it. Death by chain link fence. A humiliating way to go. The impact was not as bad as I thought, though I did feel like I nearly ripped my fingers off.
I like to envision all of this from Mackenzie's perspective by the way. The mental image is way funnier.
Anyway, I soldier on for the rest of the trail and after being on it for less than a minute a snake crawls out across the path. I, lacking the ability to control myself in any way, roll over it.

So there. Rollerblading. Something I will NEVER do again.

Spotlight

2009-04-16T09:03:00.001-07:00

Ready for another? I realize this might be boring for the majority of readers... but just think one day it may be YOU.

This person used to listen to 'Eye of the Tiger' before breaking up with boys.

We celebrated this person's imminent death on a handful of occasions.

This person is basically pro at everything IN THE ENTIRE WORLD.

This person, having been backed against the kitchen counter, grabbed a knife to ward the boy off. (Don't worry, it didn't faze him. AT ALL. He had no concept of personal space.)

This person sort of unintentionally fell into friendship with me.

This person can sing all of the lyrics to Mulan. (at least I think it was Mulan, if not substitute random Disney movie here.)

This person had her closet so meticulously organized that she would notice if someone even touched a shirt. (you did NOT touch the shirts)

This person was airlifted after attempting a death defying sledding stunt. (by stunt I mean supposedly safe sledding gone terribly wrong.)

This person has dated no less than four boys named Spencer and married one of them.

This person's digestive system does not tolerate mini marshmallows in any degree.

Is it YOU?

Happy Easter from the Burn Unit

2009-04-12T11:14:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter everyone! I thought I'd start out with an Easter message from the First Presidency of my church.
"At this Easter season of hope and renewal we testify of the glorious reality of the atonement and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. The empty tomb brought comforting assurance and provided the answer to the question of Job, “If a man die, shall he live again?” (Job 14:14).
Because of the Savior’s resurrection we will overcome death and become the beneficiaries of His mercy and grace. In a world of trouble and uncertainty, His peace fills our hearts and eases our minds. Jesus is in very deed “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6).
We give our sure witness that Jesus is the Christ. Though He was crucified, He rose triumphant from the tomb to our everlasting blessing and benefit. To each member of the human family He stands as our Advocate, our Savior, and our Friend."
I also know this to be true.

I hit the return key about five times to put some spacing between eternal truth and my ramblings.
Easter morning started out pretty well. The boys woke up, found eggs, realized there was candy inside the eggs, and began to shovel it into their mouths as quickly as possible before I could step in.
I titled this post 'From the Burn Unit' because in two days both boys have learned the hard lessons of what 'don't touch that it's hot' really means . Monkey #1 grabbed my curling iron and he's okay today. No lasting damage other than when I went to curl my hair today his little finger prints were still on the barrel and I teared up. Then poor poor little monkey number two. I had the ironing board out with the iron and I went into my closet to grab a shirt. When I came back out monkey 2 was screaming and the iron was lying flat on the ironing board. It had fallen on the back of his hand. My good friend and former nurse Cindy came over and confirmed that they were second degree burns and that I was a terrible mother. I'd post pictures of the poor little one but my real computer is STILL broken and continues to fight for her life at my parent's.

In other news I just read a book called "The Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins and I highly highly highly recommend it. Just know this: the book sends abruptly as if she wrote a longer book and then just decided to cut it in half. Other than that, I loved it. Read it in a day.

So... suddenly out of coherent thoughts. Late.

Spotlight

2009-04-07T19:34:00.000-07:00

At church I play the piano for the primary children. One of the highlights of this is that each week they 'spotlight' a child. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this game, They have all the children stand and then read clues about said child until eventually, only one child is left standing. This is the theory anyway. We are usually left with either no one standing or a few clever boys standing when one of the clues was that they wanted to be a mom when they grow up. Anyway. I thought today I would spotlight someone and see if they are still standing when I'm through. In fact, I might do this every week.

This person is a girl. And I mean a girly girl in that she taught me the ins and outs of how to be a girl with such useful lessons as: Never EVER ask a boy on a date; let them flock to you, and always [sentence removed due to complete naivte on my part, though my husband said he let it slide because he knew i was 'not that kind of girl']

This person went through a phase wherein every time she addressed her closest friends she attached the word -face onto the end. i.e. "Hey... Emily-face, stupid-face, crazy-face, you-face, etc. etc.)

I worked my way into this person's circle of friends by slipping into her dorm room undetected and cleaning it.

This person has broken a board with her head, undaunted by her first attempt wherein the board did not break leaving a fabulously bruised goose egg.

This person knows the importance of having a fine dessert at nearly every meal and healthy snack.

This person once bought conditioner intended for African American's hair and spent an entire week trying to get it out.

This person has been known to purchase expensive wigs in order to accompany friends on dates unbeknownst to the male counterpart.

This person is the only person in the world who holds the rights to understanding Anna Karenina.

This person can at times only be cheered by someone wearing seven belts, four hats, and who is dancing and singing the soundtrack of Mamma Mia.

This person is expert at making realistic bruises with makeup and even helped me create one on my face to help gain sympathy from a boy I was about to break up with (who incidentally I ended up marrying)

This person likes cheddar cheese on her pasta.

Alright. Who's left standing?

Sports and I

2009-04-05T19:58:00.000-07:00

Uh, side note first.
It may seem like I'm blogging a lot lately, and this is partially, well mostly because I am doing BEDA (thank you Maureen Johnson), which stands for Blog Every Day in April, except for me it's more like BEODA (blog every other day april) or BEOOODA. Anyway, I guess you could say I'm mostly failing but I'm trying, and always searching for something exciting and even educational to say.

Today I will just recount a memory and I apologize if you have already heard it. You don't have to read it, just so you know.

Back in college I and a couple of my friends decided it would be a really good idea to get involved in something. This something was BYUSA, basically college student council that puts on events for the student body. We signed up to head a committee for 'March Madness' which, I will confess right now, I didn't know had to do with basketball before I signed up. *This should have been a red flag.

So. Surprise! We were going to put on a college basketball themed party. We planned the whole thing out with basketball related competitions, cookies, big screen TV showing the game, awesome in love with Will Smith DJ, spinning the ball on your finger the longest contest, cool t-shirts for the organizers, et cetera, et cetera.

We also had a trivia game going during commercial breaks wherein participants could win fun prizes like t-shirts, visors, basketballs, water bottles, you know. AWESOME free stuff. One of our committee members who had previously come up with the trivia questions and answers handed them to me. I was to be the MC so I hopped up on the stage and started asking away. It was supposed to be easy. Just read the questions and answers. Right? RIGHT?

Wrong. Apparently, in my lifelong effort to distance myself from all sports, I missed out on a little thing called lingo. I can't remember the question now so I will just make one up.

What college basketball team scored one million points in a single game?
A. University of Somewhere
B. Another School
C. University with Dinosaur Mascot
D. University of Connecticut.

APPARENTLY, University of Connecticut is sometimes abbreviated to UCONN (pronounced Yukon). I did not know this. So some too cool for school basketball buff raises his hand and answers "UCONN". Again. I DID NOT KNOW THIS. I say, "I'm sorry, that's incorrect. It's the University of Connecticut."
I'm sure there wasn't actually a stunned silence, but in my embellished memories, the entire room fell quiet and then burst into laughter. My new boyfriend and future husband hung his head in shame. It took me a few minutes to figure out why people were laughing and then my lovely assistant Wendy threw the guy a visor. I was self conscious from there on out and stumbled through the rest of the questions making mistakes like calling it the "P-A-C- 10" instead of just pronouncing it Pac. I was out of my league and have wanted nothing to do with the month of March or any kind of madness since.

Why I Shouldn't Watch TV

2009-04-02T21:03:00.000-07:00

Besides the fact that most of TV is garbage and inevitably always leaves me with pounding headaches, I have a hard time remembering the fine line that lies between reality and fiction.

For example: medical shows. E.R., House, even Scrubs always leave me sitting on the couch with serious doubts as to whether or not I will live to see next week, as all of the symptoms described in the show are quite possibly happening to me.

I watched the E.R show finale, I don't really follow E.R. but hey, the commercial said it was epic and if they throw epic out there, I'm in. Anyway, a woman came in, in labor with twins. She already had three boys and was finally having twin little girls. Something horrible happens and she bleeds out and dies. JUST WHEN SHE GOT HER GIRLS!

I immediately, (at the commercial break), told Kendall this would happen to me and was he prepared to raise two girls on his own without turning them into sport loving tom boys who have to go around with terrible 'dad did my hair' ponytails??? WAS HE???

He just smiled and patted my head, took the remote and turned on Sports. This is always effective as everyone knows I relate in no way to sports.

This type of TV self assimilation can also be found with any type of crime show. After watching hundreds of episodes wherein people are murdered in horrifying ways, I find myself subconsciously noting what objects around me I could use as weapons as well as noting all possible escape routes. I'm just saying, if I'm cooking dinner and some dude comes in for the kill, will I be able to incapacitate him with the rolling pin if I can't reach the knives? I just want to be prepared and not die in a terribly graphic, CSI stumping way. I'd rather die in the E.R with Dr. Ross.

Haircuts and Wrist Injuries

2009-03-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

Apparently I have learned nothing from the last thirteen failed attempts at cutting hair. Like childbirth, I just have to wait long enough until I don't remember it being that painful before I give it another go.
Maybe I have learned a little because James actually looks decent. I went and bought a clip that was an inch and a quarter and voila he looks great. Harrison though... poor poor Harrison. I think I am going to have to start calling him Mr. No Bangs. You see, his hair starts a LOT farther back on his head than James so... now he's basically all forehead. Good thing hair regrows right?? Right?????

And as for the wrist inuries part of the title, it's not really relevant other than my wrist really hurts inexplicably. Maybe it's from all the typing I do, or maybe it's all those childhood cartwheels coming back to haunt me. I always think it's such a gyp when you have pain for no apparent reason. Cool stories make pain SO much cooler. Then again cool stories make just about anything in life cooler. Maybe that's why I was such a ~~liar~~ storyteller as a child.

Oh and... http://www.theonion.com/content/video/pragues_franz_kafka_international

French and Encouragement

2009-03-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

So... last night i dreamed in French, or rather my dream had little French subtitles at the bottom of it. This is incredible seeing as the only words I know in french are moulin (windmill), oui, no, and merci. Given this, the dialogue could only have been,

"Oui, moulin"

"No, moulin"

"Merci moulin"

or to spice things up it might even have been "no merci moulin" (which I'm sure is probably grammatically incorrect)

I really can't recall what the dream was about I just remember being very aware that I was reading the French subtitles and completely understanding. I'm also fairly certain there weren't any windmills in it.

Also, a funny anecdote:

So Monkey #2 has been sick lately with a horrible cough and he often can't get it under control which results in him throwing up. About a week ago he tossed his cookies in bed one night and it just so happened to fall in such a way that it looked like a figure eight. So monkey #2 is crying and crying and i am trying to clean things up and monkey #1 comes over and says, "It's okay, that's a good job! You threw up an eight!". The encouragement totally helped me too because cleaning up puke that looks like an eight is SO much better than cleaning up regular puke.

Standby.

2009-03-08T08:46:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delays between posts. My home computer has been in the shop (My dad's house) for about a month or two now and so posting is a little more complicated. I love my little laptop it's just... she struggles. Anyway. The wedding. I'm sure a TON of you have already heard the stories but for those who haven't. Enjoy.

The wedding was great. Everything went smoothly, everyone was happy. (minus my dress fiasco and a groomsman choking on steak and throwing up on his plate.) My brother married a girl, (named Vanessa) who is a gorgeous.

Anyway, her mom was talking to us and said, "I just want to warn you that we're Mexican and we Mexicans really like to party." I was thinking, "well we're American and we like to party too" No my fellow Americans. We do not know the first thing about partying. It was SO crazy and fun. But literally. It was like Vanessa's side of the wedding out on the dance floor and then my brother's side on the sidelines watching in awe. Clearly, at least in my family, we don't know the first thing about dancing.

I was filming the whole time so I didn't really have to worry about whether or not I could shake my bon bon. I think the filming went pretty well, well meaning that I might possibly have recorded her tossing the bouquet in night vision... I'm telling you people. I edit film much better than I film it. (don't worry Luanne your wedding looks awesome)

The thing ran until like 10:30pm and the only reason I endured in high heels was so I could get a shot of them driving away. While the dance floor is still crowded I hear Vanessa conspiring with Ryan to just sneak out without telling anyone. I put my throbbing foot down and said "No no no! I am still here because you are supposed to run out to the car in swirl of cheers and bubbles and act all surprised that your car has been desecrated by balloons, shoe polish, and tin cans. I am going to film the bubbles DANGIT!" And so I did. They left. Kendall carried me to the car. The end.

Oh and they went to Hawaii on their honeymoon and were robbed kind of like us when we were robbed. But they are newlyweds and can therefore survive anything. The real end.

Me in a church pew with my other mother Jennifer and my arm in the strangest possible position I could have managed.

***A disclaimer***

If you weren't invited to the wedding and are offended, please know that it was TINY church and very small family reception so now you can feel better. You are still loved.

Did you know?

2009-02-23T11:47:00.000-08:00

Did you know that Princess Diana used to sew fishing weights into the lining of her dresses so that the wind didn't blow them up and expose her to public humiliation? Did you know that I do not sew fishing weights into my dresses and this weekend at my brother's wedding the wind blew my dress up and exposed me to public humiliation? I think the lesson we can glean is that we all have a lot to learn from Lady Di.

More on the wedding later.

The Caretaker's Lament

2009-02-17T20:29:00.000-08:00

Well our house has been just a big bundle of sickness for the past few days. When I checked the mail today I felt like I was emerging from a cave and had to shield my eyes from the glaring sun. The one thing we can do while snot abounds is drive around. This grants us the illusion that we are breaking out of the same four walls whilst actually replacing them with four moving walls with windows.
So we've been exploring. I found about a billion old broken down buildings and barns that I know my sister-in-law would love to snap serious faced pictures of me in front of. But, by far the coolest thing or perhaps oddest thing we found was in a tidy little farmyard. At one of the feeding troughs (troughs being the first farm sounding word that came into my head), was a reindeer, a gazelle, and a zebra. We drove by the house about 37 times just to be sure there weren't any elephants hiding in the rosebushes. If any of you who live around me know of this place and know that I have mislabeled the animals i.e. the reindeer actually being an elk or perhaps a cow, please don't make fun of me. I haven't slept in four days..... maybe that explains it. But seriously. I see strange animal coalitions all the time.
For example, I once saw a squirrel riding across the road on a dog's back. Another time I saw a goat a cat and a dog walking together. My husband just declared he doesn't believe me as I type. Whatev. Take it or leave it. I know what I saw and I sleep a little less soundly around animals because of it.
Anyone else seen strange two/four legged interactions? Promise I won't make fun but my husband might.

Pay It Forward

2009-02-13T15:05:00.001-08:00

The first 3 people to leave a comment on this post will receive a hand made gift from me during this year. When and what will be a surprise. There's a small catch though...
Post this same thing on your own blog and then come back and leave a comment telling me you're in. Fun, huh? Remember, only the first 3 comments receive the gift!

The Freak Magnet.

2009-02-05T07:54:00.000-08:00

As a rule, I never watch Oprah. Yesterday I briefly forgot why... and now I remember.
Jenny McCarthy was on talking about her 'Warrior Mothers' and they did a piece on this woman who went into the hospital to have her normal scheduled c-section and when she came out they had removed all of her female organs, her gall bladder, a part of her colon, and her ARMS and LEGS. She contracted some sort of flesh eating virus while at the hospital and nearly died and they had to remove all these things so she would survive.

This is totally going to happen to me.

I am not pregnant in any way right now I assure all of you, but now I don't know if I ever want to be. As many of you know I have never had what could be termed a 'normal' birth. Freak things always seem to find me. And so a boil, one third degree burn, and 4 corrective episiotomy surgeries later, I worry.

If and when I do get pregnant again I completely plan to sit down with my doctor and the FIRST thing I will ask him is, "What are you going to do to make sure I come home from the hospital with both my arms and legs intact?" Will he think I'm insane? I'm sure. But I need the reassurance.

What did I just say?

2009-01-22T20:08:00.000-08:00

The other day I caught myself using a phrase that I have only heard one other person on Earth use on a regular basis. I rode the bus for exactly one school year before my mom had seen enough Lifetime movies to convince her I would be abducted if I continued doing this. My bus driver's name was Lanelle and if anyone ever stepped out of line she would say "If you want to make it home today you had best better sit down and be quiet."

I found myself all these years later giving James a similar threat and telling him he had best better stop doing whatever he was doing if he knew what was good for him. Where does that come from? I hadn't heard that phrase in some twelve odd years yet here it was. I guess it just makes me curious to know where our brains hide these little streams of information just waiting to reveal them to us again.

Another phrase was from a teacher and as I recall after like practically anything she said she would say, "Questions? Comments? Commiserations?" I said this to James once and he said, 'Mom what does that mean?" It's funny because I remember being little and wondering the same thing.
It makes me wonder if there are things I say that years and years later people will still identify as mine. I think I'm going to analyze all my friends present and past and try to pinpoint their catch phrases so be warned.

*ALSO did anyone watch idol tryouts and see that girl named Joanna who was way pretty and had a great voice and cried funny when they gave her a ticket? She was like the almost girl who was almost Annie on Broadway and then got a record deal and then got dropped by the record company?? Yeah. Well. I totally bought one of her songs off her one cd years ago so she shouldn't feel so bad. She made my playlist after all.

Clever Wal-mart

2009-01-13T17:38:00.000-08:00

I had to make a quick run to my beloved Wal-mart and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that there were very few cars in the parking lot. This rarely happens. It was so nice that I even got to park in a practically handi-capped spot and didn't even need a limp to justify it.

I was feeling good. I got out of my car and felt the cool winter air in my hair. I didn't have kids with me so this would be a breeze. I walk in the sliding doors, say a cheery hello to the sticker/cart lady and continue in.
Then I freeze. I look behind me to the parking lot. No, there's still just a scattering of cars parked there. I look back inside. The lines for the registers are horrendous, like Christmas Eve horrendous. I, of course, have to go to customer service and have to wait forever to get the help, I the customer, need, and then when I go to purchase what I originally came to get... they're sold out.
I did end up having to purchase a few other things and had to wait behind like 4 people in the self-checkout line who apparently do not understand that these lines are not for over flowing grocery carts and an hour later with two items in my bag, I am home.

My only conclusion is this: Wal-mart must also hire stand-ins whose only job is to make the shopping experience miserable, just in case it might have been mildly pleasant. This explains why the benefits are so crappy because they have SO many employees that they have to pay and benefit. It's all coming together now. Another piece to the puzzle.

Another Contrast

2009-01-06T16:31:00.000-08:00

A natural

A little too natural.

Excited for Christmas!

2009-01-04T09:29:00.001-08:00

Excited.

Not.

Louisiana's Paradise.

2008-12-09T08:49:00.000-08:00

*Update: I wrote this post a while back. My internet whacked out while I was doing it so feeling slightly deflated, I put it aside. But here it is. I clearly have a lot more to post about but consider this an appetizer.

Well we're back from our brief holiday in Louisiana. It was our first time both being away from the monkeys, and it was an... experience.

A work Christmas party took us so far from our little home, to a casino/hotel with an awesome lobby.

Then we got to our beautiful room.

SO exotic. I felt like there were really parrots in the room with us.

You need not travel far for good hygiene at this hotel.

And yes. While enjoying the Rainbow Brite bathroom you can talk on the phone to your closest friend. (They clearly have to be close if they are comfortable listening to you use the bathroom)
Fabulous parrots aside, it was really fun.

Kendall had to go to a seminar on Saturday for four hours, heh heh heh, and so I hit up the local town. I ended up going to a movie by myself and then going to a bookstore for a couple of hours.

For all of you out there that are lying awake at night over what Christmas/Birthday/Easter/Kwanzaa/President's Day/Just because you think I'm awesome present, to get me, a gift card to a bookstore is my heart's deepest desire.

I don't buy shoes. I buy books. I might buy books about shoes...
I'm just saying.
And I must offer my deepest apologies right now to Wendy that I didn't take any pictures of actual people on our vacation. The thought just never pops into my mind in the heat of the photo taking moments.
But anyway, back to the vacation.
That night there was a dinner, with lots of round tables full of people. The only person I recognized besides Kendall was his manager... so I asserted myself and went to sit by him and his wife. AND then came the CEO's and their wives. So it was Kendall, who has not as of yet actually worked even one day for the company, and I, and ALL of the top dogs. Yeah. It was THAT comfortable. And it was even MORE fun when this table full of baptists found out we were Mormon. Luckily I am SO charming, so they still gave us the Christmas bonus of a $100 poker chip.
And it gets better. We head off to the casino to cash in our chip since we don't gamble and the muscular foreboding clerk puts his arm out and won't let me in. I left my ID upstairs and so I have to wait for Kendall while this guy smirks at me thinking he's SO smart and I'm SO dumb.
OH the trouble of being so beautiful and youthful.
WHICH reminds me. I got the funniest compliment the other day. I was talking to two gals in my church and when they find out I am as young as I am, she says, "You're that young! I thought you were just well preserved!"
Beside the flashing image of well preseved mummy in my mind, I thought it was funny and nice. Alright. Enough reveling.
Moral of the story: We had fun. We might have picked a different hotel if it were up to us.
The end.

My Prison Experience

2008-11-22T19:11:00.000-08:00

A weird thing about myself is that I feel like I can see most of my life coming. Or at least when I look back I certainly should have seen the signs.
Risking sounding a little bit insane, I think I have premonitions...
And I don't mean like promptings, those fall into a different category for me, but what I mean is my life foreshadows itself ALL the time.
Examples:
-This morning I was throwing some clothes into the washing machine and I had the distinct thought that wow, my washer is going to spill over today. And... middle of Harry's party my brother comes and tells me my laundry room floor is all wet.
-I was driving along blissfully and I notice that my windshield is nice and pretty and clean. and then I envision a rock hitting it and cracking it ruining the pristine glass. Sure enough not ten minutes later. WHAM. Rock. Crack.

I'm serious here. This is not a joke. And it's not just me predicting things for myself.

Case and point:
Today I was telling my friend Minda that all she needed to do to get her boys to stay in the room at bedtime was to switch the door knob so she could lock it from the outside. She said, "but what if your kids lock you in?"
I laughed and said, "No. Minda. That never happens."
So does this count as her premonition or as mine?
Kendall went off to work and I was in the boy's room cleaning up. I hear the door close and James wipes his hands together and says, "Well we're locked in Mom."
My first thought was "MINDA!"
I search wildly around the room for any small sharp utensil I can use to open the lock... wait this is the boy's room. I cleverly removed all small sharp utensils from it.
We had to climb out the window and walk to Minda's barefoot and freezing. (the front and back doors were both locked of course, Safety First!).
Her husband came over with me climbed through the tiny bedroom window, and this is a TALL guy mind you, and took the doorknob off and I was once more free to roam my little abode.
Long story I know, but what does this tell us?
I think I have the gift.

For consultations, you can reach me at Emma Gifted or 366-244-3833. I charge $79.99 an hour. Anytime. Day or night.

Therapy Costs Money

2008-11-11T12:21:00.000-08:00

Well, I am extremely happy to say that we got our house rented out. Thank you for all your support in prayers, and sympathy. It was nice to know that you cared even, when you would smile and say how sorry you were whilst your mind was silently giving you a high five for not being in my situation. Now I am just calculating how much of the cost of therapy for my house's crushed self esteem I should make the new renters pay.
I feel way better about this renter than felony girl and Judge Judy hopeful boy though.

Again, thank you Lara. Your heart really is too big. Since you are so touchy feely, I would hug you right now if you were here.

Funny story.
We were teaching our eldest monkey to bear his testimony, (which is basically sharing spiritual things that you know to be true out loud, for those of you who are unfamiliar), and Kendall was whispering in his ear.

Kendall said, "I know Thomas S. Monson is a prophet,"
James translated, "I know Thomas is a monster and a prophet."

Just for the record, I know Thomas S. Monson is a prophet too. Not a monster.

The Cut.

2008-11-06T08:53:00.001-08:00

Sorry... I deleted the very long list from the sugar post. It was just cramping my blog's style. If you would still like to read the list, never fear... you can read it here.
http://www.mercola.com/article/sugar/dangers_of_sugar.htm

The Horror! The Horror!

2008-11-04T17:34:00.000-08:00

So. My cousin Amylyn had a stat on her website that sugar can reduce your immune system by 50%. I screamed, "Blasphemy!!!" But I decided to do some research and I found the most terrifying website I have ever seen. I got sick of numbering... but the list totals to 76. 76 REASONS! Why sugar haters? Why? But now I must really question my toxic relationship with my bff in the food period.
If sugar really feeds cancer cells all I have to say is TRAITOR!

Monkey Back Scratchers

2008-11-03T19:35:00.000-08:00

So. My two monkeys are making me a little CRAZY.

But I am proud to say that they have learned to have a mutually beneficial relationship.

Example.

Monkey 1 (the older monkey), cannot open those child lock door knobs. Whether we've trained him psychologically to think he can't or whatever he just cannot do it.

Monkey 2 can. So Monkey 1 will ask for Monkey 2 to help him open any door he needs to get into.

However.

Monkey 2 HATES wearing a diaper. I have resorted to having him wear a onesie at all times because he cannot get out of it and therefore cannot pull off his diaper.

Monkey 1 CAN undo the onesie, so Monkey 2 asks him to undo the snaps whenever the call of nudity beckons.

Working together? Yes.

Working for me? No.

Prisoner of Square One

2008-10-26T18:41:00.001-07:00

Unbelieveably, I just turned some potential renters down. Sketchy past. Had a judgement against them for late rent.

All I can picture is Judge Judy and how I will end up on her show fighting them if I rent to these people. And since Judge Judy frightens the living daylights out of me, I will do whatever is necessary to never cross her path.
Sigh. So, House with slightly diminished self esteem because no one wants to live in it, For Rent.

Reminds me. Got a call from some random lady tonight asking about the house. Her questions were all short and mingled with incredibly poor grammar. For example, the conversation went something like this.
"You got a house for rent?"
"Yes."
"Clean inside?"
"Yes." wondering how not clean it will be if I rent it to her.
"How much you want?"
"1100"
"Them's a lot."
"Well, it is a house. It's acutally quite competitive for the area."
"Deposit?"
"Yes. Same as rent."
"I'll pay six months up front."
"Okay, well I can send you an application..."
"Gonna look into my credit and background mumbo jumbo?"
"Well yes, we screen all renters"
Click.

And the best part is, is I get to answer these types of phone calls day and night. It's so fun and I love blowing my cell minutes on it. So please. If any of you would like to call my phone long distance and pretend to be interested in my house, feel free. It always helps if you can allude to a sketchy rental history and explain away the list of problems I will find on your credit, as well as a felony conviction that you assure me you weren't guilty of.

On a lighter note:
Primary Program was today. We rocked it. Although a girl in my class refused to get up to say her part. I love her to death. I asked her why afterwards.
"Hey! Why didn't you come sit with me and say your part? You would have been great!"
"I didn't want to and I am NOT going trick or treating either."
"You're not?" (shocked and moderately confused by the connection face) "But EVERYONE loves trick or treating."
"No," she says literally pointing her nose in the air, "I don't eat sugar anymore."
Let the record state that I do, in fact, still eat sugar.

Seven year olds quitting sugar. Sheesh.

Gorgeous Gilbert Home For Rent.

2008-10-23T11:10:00.001-07:00

2008-10-22T19:04:00.000-07:00

Well that was a winner.
Thanks Leah and my dear sweet sister who is under contract to love me.

Our house remains lonely without renters to love it. I can't understand why. I said it was a "Gorgeous, and Pristine Home in a Desirable Area" in the ad. Clearly renters are misunderstanding me and assuming that my house is attracting all the boy houses in the area. Maybe renters aren't comfortable with the fact that they are living in a house that is infinitely more attractive than them. Maybe by saying my house is gorgeous, it brings up all sorts of horrible self esteem issues and unpleasant memories from high school. Shudder. Perhaps the ad would sell better if I said "Moderately Attractive Home, Like one of those friends who made you feel better by hanging out with them, For Rent."

I don't know maybe you guys can come up with something better. I'll wait with bated breath for your responses.
Besides the fact that I am beginning to subconsciously hum "It's the end of the world as we know it..." I'm taking the stress with stride.

Although now I feel I must pause and give a shout out to Lara, a bff who has been dealing with all the in- person transactions with my house while we are away at school.

Okay. No. Not her. She has blonde hair. But it was the first picture up on Google Images and she does deserve a trophy for all her hard work so......

Side story... Lara's husband Lee was showing the house to potentials and one of them asked to use the bathroom. He said sure without really thinking. The water was turned off at the time though, and this person really went. We are not talking numero uno.

So, in fair compensation, I devised a cute thank you card, that I never sent, that said,

"Thanks for dealing with all our crap."

Again. Thank you Lee. We'll manually flush a toilet for you someday.

And just to prove that my children do still exist. Here are two quotes from James.

While lecturing Harrison, "Harrison!! WHAT do you THINK YOU ARE?"

While holding onto a rope and leading Harrison around he screamed, "Hold to the rod Harrison! HOLD TO THE IRON ROD!"

Taking Note of Nothing...

2008-10-15T18:40:00.001-07:00

As I have read through countless blogs I have realized that most of them are small shrines to normalcy. WHICH is a good a thing. Don't get me wrong. It's about time someone did. Poor little Normal. (yes, Normal is uneventful's name).

For years, great writers have been neglecting little Normal only choosing to write stories about, seemingly ordinary, physically and emotionally underage boys who actually are the chosen ones and complete tasks that grown men cannot. OR there's the strikingly simple girl who we can all relate to at the beginning of the story who ends up with the guy and the money while everyone else is left staring, jaws hitting the floor in disbelief.

Clearly, though, the sonic boom of blogs has proven that there are millions of people willing to write and read about little Norm.

Still, sadly in the bookstores of the world, Norm is taken for granted much like the thumbs on our hands. Take the thumbs away, and monkeys will suddenly surpass us and our fine motor skills, waving pencils and chopsticks in the air while laughing.

On the one hand, normalcy is good because it means aliens haven’t invaded from Mars, the price of eggs hasn’t changed, and the weather happens just as it was predicted to. On the other hand though, it means we don't find buried treasure, we won't find out we actually have magical powers, and we definitely cannot fly. Living a fairly normal life also means that there are very few indicators that your yesterday isn’t just repeating itself over and over again.

So where does that leave little Norm? For now, it seems, he will have to be content flitting in and out of our lives while reigning simply on the Internet. Maybe someday they will finally make a section in libraries and bookstores alike dedicated to literature where nothing out of the ordinary ever really happens. Until then, here's to you Normal.

Fame in Waco

2008-10-01T18:13:00.000-07:00

I was driving around today when I was suddenly cut off. I shouted, "Dude!" and was totally angry until I realized WHO it was that cut me off.

It was Milo Ventimiglia. I kid you not.

Okay I am kidding you but if ever there was a case for doppelgangers this would be it.

For those of you who have no idea who Milo Ventimiglia is... he starred on Gilmore Girls (Jess), and is most recently known for his role on Heroes as Peter.

Why I thought Milo would be cruisin around Waco is beyond me. Waco. Magnet for the hollywood elite. Yeah. That sounds about right.

Geez Louise

2008-09-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

Alright already. I added a pic of me. I understand. It would feel awkward if you had been following the Rays blog only to find you didn't know the Rays you were reading about. Got it.

Hunting for hay with a bat.

2008-09-27T10:46:00.000-07:00

I sat and stared at the screen blankly for like ten minutes and was sure that if someone did an activity scan of my brain it would look something like this:

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Since the sleep I have been getting, or the lack thereof, is forefront in my mind, sleep is what I will blog about.

Usually, my lack of sleep is a choice. I will stay up late writing, or listening to music, TV, et cetera. This week my children have decided to invade the precious few hours that I call my own and " very mad mommy" has come out in full force. (When I'm grouchy my son always tells me I'm a very mad mommy--which I am, so he has a valid point)

This has consequently made my dreams less restful. Here is a random sample of dreams I've had of late. (I always write them down, weird habit, I know.)

1. I am doing dishes in a GIANT dishwasher, with two black demons who I have to keep spraying with water so they won't eat me.

2. I am giving birth to Quints by cesarean and in the middle of the surgery I realize I am in charge of conducting Family Home Evening for my ward, so I hop off the table and conduct away, all the while, the babies are hopping out and walking around.

3. My husband brings home a football that they were handing out at the law school with buttons on it. The buttons control the way the student's wives/girlfriends look. Push a button there, Instant weight loss. Another button, and they're suddenly much more endowed. You get the picture.

4. I also had a dream that a shark mangled my brother-in-law and his limbs had to be amputated. We called him "Ampy" ever after that.

This is just a tiny window inside the inner workings of my subconscious mind. WHERE in the WORLD do I get these dreams from? Your guess, my friends, is as good as mine.

All I know is that I have WAY crazier dreams when I don't sleep well.

Aw well. Maybe one of them will turn out solving one of my many cases of writer's block. Who knows? The possibilities are clearly, at least in my dreams, endless.

Can You Walk the Walk?

2008-09-22T20:38:00.000-07:00

Okay! I confess. I belong to a walking group. Every morning it's wakey wakey eggs and bakey, and we are out there, lapping all of those nuisances to society who can't seem to drag themselves out of bed.
We are not very few in numbers and I'm pretty sure we intimidate even the garbage trucks. I also think we annoy the monkeys out of most of the people who live on our 'block' But hey, we gotta get our 30 minutes 5 times a week or we will take up a whole lot more of the road next time we walk down it.
Anyway.

I thought I would do a little tribute to walking via other inspiring walkers out there. Ahem.

You see? They even have walking groups in Honduras. Definitely a worldwide fad.

Never feel bad about walking alone. We constantly abandon Minda, the only truly committed walker in the bunch.

Ummm Don't recommend this though.

Osteoporosis + husband with hand in pocket when he trips= all the king's horses and all the king's men putting broken hips back together again.

Way to add on some weight ladies! Tone those arms while you walk. 2 birds. 1 stone.
Yeah. Pretty sure our neighbors hate us a lot less than these neighbors hate them.

We push strollers. Some carry poles. To each their own.

And finally. I'd like to tell you all about racewalking. I kid you not. It's a sport. Very competitive.

USATF Definition
"Race walking is a progression of steps so taken that the walker makes contact with the ground so that no visible (to the human eye) loss of contact occurs.
The advancing leg must be straightened (i.e., not bent at the knee) from the moment of first contact with the ground until in the vertical upright position.
One would think by now this definition would be concrete, but in practice, it is fairly subjective."

I am not mocking in the sense that I don't think this sport is difficult...

Anyway. Walking is good. Walking in addition to more athletically demanding activities is probably even better.

2008-09-22T20:00:00.001-07:00

Here's a little vid-e-oh for your viewing pleasure. Beats the standing around singing for the camera videos ANY day of the week. I'll warn you. It's weird.
(I know it's annoying b/c you'll have to scroll all the way down to turn off my carefully selected tunes, but it's worth it. )

By: Bats For Lashes

The Hot Seat and Groceries

2008-09-18T17:00:00.000-07:00

I was checking out at Wal-mart like I always do with an incredibly inept bagger, (why yes, I think two apple juices, a gallon of milk and the tomato sauce really should all go in one bag), and another memory was triggered.

Imagine the screen going fuzzy and wavy as we flashback now.

When I was in California this summer, my sister-in-law and I decided to live a little and make a quick run to the grocery store. Ah the wind in our hair, no children in sight.

We're checking out with what few items we could afford, (a box of Cheeze-its for $6.50? Really?), and the bagger starts talking to us.

At first he's friendly just joking around and we are living it up. I'll take adult interaction anywhere I can get it really. And then he asks who the diapers are for.

I said, "uh, they're for my baby..."

He says, "no way! You have a baby?"

me: "yes..."

him: "You look way to young to have a baby, are you married? Were you married when you had it?"

me: "yes..." Why no, I thought I would join the hollywood elite and get pregnant first.

Meanwhile my sister-in-law starts listing off the statistics of me, how young I was when I got married, how young I was when I had my first baby. Again, thanks Michelle.

him: "what do you mean you have two babies!!?"

me: "yes, i do."

him: "now is that what you wanted? Are you glad you have two kids? Are you glad that you got married? Do you ever wish you didn't have them?"

me: "Yes. I'm glad." What in the world? Who is this guy?

him: "So you don't have any regrets? You don't regret marrying your husband?"

me: "No. I am in love with him." The whole time my sister-in-law is snorting, just tickled pink. We finish checking out and he bids us a good night, still shaking his head in disbelief of the life I am living.

I guess it must have been 'help the customers examine their major life decisions night' or something. I don't know.

Wrecked life. Clean up on aisle seven.

Go ahead. Eat your weight in chocolate.

2008-09-10T19:07:00.000-07:00

Is anyone else aware that the Earth's days may be numbered?

For those who aren't, The Large Hadron Collider was fired up today, shooting protons around like pinballs. Costing only 9 BILLION dollars, this puppy is supposed to help us learn oodles about our world with specific hopes of recreating the big bang theory. (on a much smaller scale I assume... but then again you know what happens when you assume.)

Anyway, the advancements and knowledge we might learn from this is supposed to be sensationally enlightening, incredible, and remarkable. (these seem to be words that scientists use to describe scientificky things they have crushes on)

However, there is a slight possibility that this project could backfire and essentially create a black hole capable of SWALLOWING our planet.

Hmmm...

Yeah, I think that sounds like a reasonable risk to take don't you?

Honestly, I couldn't care less. I really don't believe that this 'super collider' (as it was called when it was supposed to happen in Texas but then busted out the bottom), could pop a kernel of corn let alone, simulate the creation of an entire universe. But then again, I am clearly not a scientist. I graduated in the soft sciences after all.

However, one good thing can be taken from this 9 billion dollar trashcan:

There is a possibility the world could have an abrupt man made ending. The protons will be colliding with each other over the next couple of weeks. Until then, I submit it would be wise to eat any and all junk food you can. It may be your last chance. I'm just saying.

Correction.

2008-09-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

My brother would like me to inform everyone that it was not from the second story, but the third, that they tipped the fridge.

Payback.

2008-09-03T17:48:00.000-07:00

Going with this week's girl rock theme, I would like to tell you all a story about the ultimate vindication.

I will just say now that this story is absolutely 100% true. Get ready. It's good.

One of my good friends was IN LOVE with this guy while she was at school. I met him once. He was nice. But not really. However, after the painful relationship and nail wrenching finale, my friend was left battered and broken by the wayside convinced she would never love again.

So that's the back story.

In a completely unrelated universe lived my brother. A new fridge was arriving one day so he and his roomies were left with the problem of what to do with the old one. They lived on a second story apartment and conveniently below them, the dumpster resided.
They got it in their heads that it would be SO easy to just tilt the old fridge over the balcony railing and voila, it would land in the dumpster. You see where this is going?

So, they gave the old fridge a good push, thinking it would need the kick to make it in. Evidently it was more than enough. They heaved the fridge over the balcony, it completely flew over the dumpster, bounced off a chain link fence and landed on a parked car in the parking lot down the hill.
Yes. The car belonged to my friend's unfortunate ex.
Justice. Sweet justice.

No worries.

2008-09-02T10:23:00.000-07:00

Just to clear up any confusion or puzzled speculation, yes this is still Emma's blog.
I just wanted to make it a little less private without actually going private, and I really didn't have a lot of motivation to do it when it was just about my kids. (sorry boys, I still love you desperately)
As for the background, I was trying to download a cute one and the site crashed like four times and I was just...done. So Voila. Here is what happened in all of its glory.
Hope you all still want to be my friends. ;)

Missing the brilliant harshness of hate.

2008-08-31T13:21:00.000-07:00

So this is what I figure. I haven't flippantly hated someone in a long time.
"Uhh... what?" You're thinking.
This might only chime in with the ladies, but don't you remember getting totally dumped or dissed by some guy you were utterly and hopelessly in love with, and then grabbing all of your bff's and going for a long drive playing boy hater songs?
No? Maybe just me then. That's explains a lot.
Regardless, being married and having a relatively stable emotional life has really cut into the spectrum of emotions I can participate in as well as the genres of music I can really rock out to.
This being said, I will now put a favorite boy hating song on this very blog and you can all have a moment of your own.
I'm out.