Paige over at Life is a Phoenix tagged me with these questions. (You should read her blog. She is an amazing photographer and always a fun read!) Thought I would pass them on. So, if you are reading this, consider yourselves tagged. Then let me know if you did so I can read your answers too!
1. Do you like Starbucks? And are you a fan of their seasonal coffees?
The smell of coffee kinda makes me sick. But, I do like their hot chocolate...oh and they have a yummy cider. Mostly though, I like the name. Who came up with it? Genius.
2. How do you decorate and prepare for Fall?
Mostly the rooms are decorated by my children taking out the old Halloween costumes and changing their minds 50 million times as to what they want to be for Halloween. We have some fun decorations. Mostly a fun tablecloths, and spookey things randomly placed around the house.
This year we have a special treat. I bought words like, "Beware." and "Turn Back" that can stick on your windows. Great idea. Except my 6 year old got to them first. Now we have "Wkune Btacr" for all the world to see. "Hooked on Phonics worked for me!"
3. Will you participate in your college's homecoming activities?
Homecoming...sigh. I went to the football game. But not so much anything else. Maybe if I had been asked to go I would have. But I think that all the guys were intimidated by my beauty. Yeah, that's why.
4. What is your favorite Fall clothing item or accessory?
Sweatshirts...all the way. You can wear shorts, pants, sandles, tennies, socks, no socks. But always there is a sweatshirt. Love it!
5. What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid?
I remember being Little Bo Peep in second grade. We didn't buy costumes. In Jr High I took one of my dads old suit jackets and turned it inside out and was a nerd. I think I wore that one clear through high school. What? We weren't supposed to wear costumes in high school. Oh.
6. Do you like Halloween/Horror movies? Do you have a favorite?
I remember watching one of those movies at a friends house and thinking it was too funny. So unrealistic. It's the ones that could happen that scare me the most. That is why I avoid them when I can. Now "Watcher in the Woods" ...that's scary.
7. What is your favorite Fall activity?
I love going to the local pumpkin patch. Hay rides, picking a pumpkin from the patch (like Linus in Charlie Brown), corn mazes, candy apples, hot chocolate.
Also, where we live, we have a hot air balloon festival. It is awesome. We are talking 500 to 600 hot air balloons in one place. We go out in the mornings and there are balloons scattered through the sky. It's great! If you ever want to come see it, I'll hook you up!
8. What is your favorite Fall recipe?
Oh, boy. I love Dutch Apple pie that is made by someone else that is not me. Yummy!
A few more for fun...
1. What movie coming out soon are you looking forward to seeing?
I still haven't seen Eat Pray Love. I wanna see it because I read the book. I don't know what else is out because I DVR all my shows and skip commercials. Any suggestions?? I know Harry Potter is coming out soon.
2. What will you miss most about summer?
Mostly lots of time with my kids. Oh, and being able to have a lazy day now and then. So not happening with my "in school" schedule. Ugh.
3. When do you start your holiday shopping?
Now. I mean right now. I like to be done by Thanksgiving...so that I can see all the great sales on Black Friday and kick myself for not waiting. Yep...that's me.
4. Favorite exercise/activity?
I like to run or do Insanity for exercise. I love to play volleyball, though I haven't played for a few years.
5. Best book you've read lately?
"A Woman of Independent Means" was the most recent book that I read. My all time favorite is "These Is My Words".
6. Do you make your bed every day?
Yes, I make it into a mess. Well, I try to make it most mornings. There are times, though, when I am out and one of the rascals is still asleep in it. So then I wait. I wait until the next day to make it. But I do try.
7. If you could choose a personal chef over a personal shopper, which would you choose?
Personal shopper, no brainer. I. Hate. Shopping. I hate grocery shopping. I hate clothes shopping. I hate car shopping. I hate it.
8. Which TV show are you most excited for this Fall?
I am weaning myself off of t.v. these days. I like Brothers and Sisters, though it is going down a road that I really am not sure I want to go down. So mostly I watch Glenn Beck and iCarly.
Friday, October 8, 2010
What's in Your Vent: Reposted
Today was a super long day. I left the house at 9am and didn't really get home until midnight. So, for today, re-posting this is gonna save me some time and crack you up. I promise... Enjoy!
My son, Brody, never ceases to amaze me. Today was "REALLY clean your bedroom" day. I was in his and Camden's room
So there I am, trying to figure out which clothes are clean, and which ones are dirty while the boys are yelling through the vent to each other. Lovely!
Kobe yelled from the other room, "Can you see the light?" Brody couldn't so he called me over to the vent.
I crawl up to the vent and notice that there is something in the vent.
"Yes. That is my food trash."
"Food trash?!" I ask, puzzled. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know what that meant.
I lift off the cover. Lucky for me the heater was on and so once the metal cover was lifted, about 50 trident gum wrappers, along with random crumbs start blowing in my face.
After the cloud of ...whatever it was...settled, I saw this...
Note to self: Buy Brody a trash...a real food trash.
Second note to self: Check the vents regularly!
What's in your vent??
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Counting the ways...
Why am I mad at you?
Let me count the ways.
Maybe it's the socks piling up
going on seven days.
Why am I mad at you?
Maybe this is why
The toothpaste spit in the bathroom sink
is now crusty and dry.
Why am I mad at you?
Listen and you'll see.
That smell inside the bathroom there
Is from your man-child's pee
(He's not a very good shot)
Why am I mad at you?
I can describe it well.
When I open up the refrigerator
The whole house begins to smell.
Why am I mad at you?
I haven't got the heart
To tell you that the chair you're on
is still falling apart.
Why am I mad at you?
How can it be?
The you that I am talking about
Well, yeah, of course, it's me.
Getting mad does nothing more
than pile on mommy guilt.
I cannot take it anymore
It's just not how I'm built.
I do the best I can each day
That's all anyone can ask.
For in the end, my family is
my numero uno task.
Besides, being mad is totally overrated!!
Inspired by Mama Kat and Jenny Matlock!
Let me count the ways.
Maybe it's the socks piling up
going on seven days.
Why am I mad at you?
Maybe this is why
The toothpaste spit in the bathroom sink
is now crusty and dry.
Why am I mad at you?
Listen and you'll see.
That smell inside the bathroom there
Is from your man-child's pee
(He's not a very good shot)
Why am I mad at you?
I can describe it well.
When I open up the refrigerator
The whole house begins to smell.
Why am I mad at you?
I haven't got the heart
To tell you that the chair you're on
is still falling apart.
Why am I mad at you?
How can it be?
The you that I am talking about
Well, yeah, of course, it's me.
Getting mad does nothing more
than pile on mommy guilt.
I cannot take it anymore
It's just not how I'm built.
I do the best I can each day
That's all anyone can ask.
For in the end, my family is
my numero uno task.
Besides, being mad is totally overrated!!
Inspired by Mama Kat and Jenny Matlock!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
So I Married a Deaf Man: I gotta go....
I don't know anyone who likes public restrooms. They are just gross and a little bit scary. I avoid them as much as I can. I have a strange ability to hold things until I am in a safe place. We are talking hours.
Hubs, on the other hand, does not share my holding ability. Oh, no. Not in the least. And he knows this. But despite this lack of hold-ability, he insists on eating cherries on road trips. I know!
Needless to say, Hubs visits public restrooms often. However, he can't just walk in and go. Nope. He has a few things he must check before proceeding on to his purpose.
Now, let me remind you that Hubs is deaf. This means, in a public restroom, he can't hear the other people. Super, if you are the other people. But this also means he can't hear himself. Catch my drift?
(This post is walking the edge of a slippery slope, I tell ya.)
When he enters, he checks all the stalls. If someone is in one, he will choose a stall where he is able to see their feet exit the restroom. If he is alone, he will choose the same stall so that he can see when someone else enters the restroom.
This little monitoring system helps him to know...when to release...
(sliding...sliding).
If it is busy, he is just plain out of luck.
I feel bad for him. I think that we all get a little stage fright when it comes to public restrooms. We all go. That isn't a secret. And yet, when there are others around to hear us, we try to take it easy. Don't we?
Now imagine you don't quite know the exact volume or sound that your body makes. And you know you don't know. All you know is what you have heard hearing people say, and most of that is in gest, poking fun at the situation. A little intimidating, if you ask me.
I don't like stress when I am in the ladies room.
This is why I don't eat cherries on road trips.
Maybe he shouldn't either.
I'm just saying.
Hubs, on the other hand, does not share my holding ability. Oh, no. Not in the least. And he knows this. But despite this lack of hold-ability, he insists on eating cherries on road trips. I know!
Needless to say, Hubs visits public restrooms often. However, he can't just walk in and go. Nope. He has a few things he must check before proceeding on to his purpose.
Now, let me remind you that Hubs is deaf. This means, in a public restroom, he can't hear the other people. Super, if you are the other people. But this also means he can't hear himself. Catch my drift?
(This post is walking the edge of a slippery slope, I tell ya.)
When he enters, he checks all the stalls. If someone is in one, he will choose a stall where he is able to see their feet exit the restroom. If he is alone, he will choose the same stall so that he can see when someone else enters the restroom.
This little monitoring system helps him to know...when to release...
(sliding...sliding).
If it is busy, he is just plain out of luck.
I feel bad for him. I think that we all get a little stage fright when it comes to public restrooms. We all go. That isn't a secret. And yet, when there are others around to hear us, we try to take it easy. Don't we?
Now imagine you don't quite know the exact volume or sound that your body makes. And you know you don't know. All you know is what you have heard hearing people say, and most of that is in gest, poking fun at the situation. A little intimidating, if you ask me.
I don't like stress when I am in the ladies room.
This is why I don't eat cherries on road trips.
Maybe he shouldn't either.
I'm just saying.
Monday, October 4, 2010
The answer is God.
What does a man in a monkey suit and a roast in the crock-pot have in common?
The answer is God.
You see, in my little world, today was a stressful day. Stress, as in worry. Stress, as in anxious. You know the kind: Mommy stress.
As many of you know, today we took our little little Camden to get his growth hormone stimulation test done. No, he wasn't having brain surgery. No it wasn't a kidney transplant. But in my little world or more importantly in his little world, it was just as huge.
I was nervous for him. We fasted this past weekend and prayed for him. I knew that he wasn't going to die or anything like that. But he was so scared and would tear up every time he would think about it. He is only four.
Mostly I prayed that he would have a good doctor who would help him feel comfortable and not scared. Or at least less scared. I knew that physically he would be okay, but his emotional well being was my biggest worry.
So today we left our house at 6:45am, not really knowing where to go. I called the hospital and they couldn't see his appointment anywhere. "You have got to be kidding me!" I thought. Finally, after about 20 minutes of fretting, thinking that we were going to have to go through this whole routine again and knowing that his little heart would break, finally, we found where we were supposed to be.
We walked in, signed in and and waited for our turn. He was fighting back the sobs. It was breaking my heart. I said a little prayer for his benefit that the person who greeted him would be kind. Sure enough, a man with monkey scrubs, called his name. He was kind. He was patient. He was my answer.
We were there from 7:30am-12pm. We grabbed something to eat and got home at 2:15pm. I had wonderful friends who had offered to take care of my little Briggedy-doo-dah. By the time we picked him up he was fed, napped and probably cleaner than he was left.
By then, I was done. Pooped, physically and emotionally. I knew what was ahead of me. Picking up the 3 older kids, getting homework done, making dinner, getting ready for work (5:30-12:30am)... It was all very overwhelming.
I really am not the type to ask for help for myself. "Watch my kids?" I can ask that any day. "Can you pick up some milk for me from Sam's?" Not a problem. But if you ask me how I am doing, I will mostly answer, "I'm okay. I've got it under control. I'm good."
But when I walked in my house and smelled a pot roast cooking in my kitchen I was touched. Then I went in and read the note that my sister had left me. This is the sister who was visiting from Idaho, who had stayed a day longer so that my husband could come with me to the appointment.
Her note read something like, "We love you very much. We are praying that all is well with Camden. Heavenly Father wanted me to make this for you. Your needs are known to Him. Love you!"
I cried. This is how He answers prayer. Through a man with a monkey shirt and a sister who knows my unspoken need for a roast in my crockpot for dinner. In my little world, He knew what I needed.
He is the Answer, always the Answer.
The answer is God.
You see, in my little world, today was a stressful day. Stress, as in worry. Stress, as in anxious. You know the kind: Mommy stress.
As many of you know, today we took our little little Camden to get his growth hormone stimulation test done. No, he wasn't having brain surgery. No it wasn't a kidney transplant. But in my little world or more importantly in his little world, it was just as huge.
I was nervous for him. We fasted this past weekend and prayed for him. I knew that he wasn't going to die or anything like that. But he was so scared and would tear up every time he would think about it. He is only four.
Mostly I prayed that he would have a good doctor who would help him feel comfortable and not scared. Or at least less scared. I knew that physically he would be okay, but his emotional well being was my biggest worry.
So today we left our house at 6:45am, not really knowing where to go. I called the hospital and they couldn't see his appointment anywhere. "You have got to be kidding me!" I thought. Finally, after about 20 minutes of fretting, thinking that we were going to have to go through this whole routine again and knowing that his little heart would break, finally, we found where we were supposed to be.
We walked in, signed in and and waited for our turn. He was fighting back the sobs. It was breaking my heart. I said a little prayer for his benefit that the person who greeted him would be kind. Sure enough, a man with monkey scrubs, called his name. He was kind. He was patient. He was my answer.
We were there from 7:30am-12pm. We grabbed something to eat and got home at 2:15pm. I had wonderful friends who had offered to take care of my little Briggedy-doo-dah. By the time we picked him up he was fed, napped and probably cleaner than he was left.
By then, I was done. Pooped, physically and emotionally. I knew what was ahead of me. Picking up the 3 older kids, getting homework done, making dinner, getting ready for work (5:30-12:30am)... It was all very overwhelming.
I really am not the type to ask for help for myself. "Watch my kids?" I can ask that any day. "Can you pick up some milk for me from Sam's?" Not a problem. But if you ask me how I am doing, I will mostly answer, "I'm okay. I've got it under control. I'm good."
But when I walked in my house and smelled a pot roast cooking in my kitchen I was touched. Then I went in and read the note that my sister had left me. This is the sister who was visiting from Idaho, who had stayed a day longer so that my husband could come with me to the appointment.
Her note read something like, "We love you very much. We are praying that all is well with Camden. Heavenly Father wanted me to make this for you. Your needs are known to Him. Love you!"
I cried. This is how He answers prayer. Through a man with a monkey shirt and a sister who knows my unspoken need for a roast in my crockpot for dinner. In my little world, He knew what I needed.
He is the Answer, always the Answer.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Flicking Etiquette
I am always looking for opportunities to teach my children manners and etiquette.
"When someone says 'Hello', it is polite to say hello back."
"If you see a piece of trash on the ground, you should pick it up and throw it away. It's just the right thing to do."
"If you see a young or old woman opening a door, you hustle over there and hold it open for her. It's what gentlemen do."
That's how they will learn.
Well, I was at a loss the other day.
We pull into the Target parking lot, right up next to a really nice, gray car. I was careful not to bump it with my door, because a ding just isn't nice. I'm unloading my baby when one of my boys, who shall remain unnamed, flicked a booger...and it landed on the car. The fancy-schmancy car.
This was no small booger, mind you. Oh, no. I will not describe it to you; I will spare you that much. But suffice it to say it was big and it was ugly. And it was on the car door.
"..... that is just gross," I scolded! "Next time grab a tissue. Booger flicking just isn't cool." Apparently I need to teach them a little more about personal hygene and proper disposal of nasal discharge.
So now what? What is the right thing to do next?
Do you leave a note, apologizing for the thoughtlessness of my booger-flicking son?
Do I try and remove it, risking a car alarm that would most definitely draw attention to the sticky mess?
Or do I walk away, hoping that there are no passangers who will see it before the wind can blow it off?
You guessed it, folks. I took the high road.
I quickly loaded my kids into the cart and hot tailed it into Target, looking over my shoulder to make sure no-one could associate me with the said booger.
High road, indeed.
What would you have done??
"When someone says 'Hello', it is polite to say hello back."
"If you see a piece of trash on the ground, you should pick it up and throw it away. It's just the right thing to do."
"If you see a young or old woman opening a door, you hustle over there and hold it open for her. It's what gentlemen do."
That's how they will learn.
Well, I was at a loss the other day.
We pull into the Target parking lot, right up next to a really nice, gray car. I was careful not to bump it with my door, because a ding just isn't nice. I'm unloading my baby when one of my boys, who shall remain unnamed, flicked a booger...and it landed on the car. The fancy-schmancy car.
This was no small booger, mind you. Oh, no. I will not describe it to you; I will spare you that much. But suffice it to say it was big and it was ugly. And it was on the car door.
"..... that is just gross," I scolded! "Next time grab a tissue. Booger flicking just isn't cool." Apparently I need to teach them a little more about personal hygene and proper disposal of nasal discharge.
So now what? What is the right thing to do next?
Do you leave a note, apologizing for the thoughtlessness of my booger-flicking son?
Do I try and remove it, risking a car alarm that would most definitely draw attention to the sticky mess?
Or do I walk away, hoping that there are no passangers who will see it before the wind can blow it off?
You guessed it, folks. I took the high road.
I quickly loaded my kids into the cart and hot tailed it into Target, looking over my shoulder to make sure no-one could associate me with the said booger.
High road, indeed.
What would you have done??
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
...but luckily, nothing happened.
This morning was cuuuu-ray-Zee! I woke up panicked because I was supposed to bring treats to the music class my kids go to and I didn't have anything that would work. So I was in a rush trying to get to the store.
But not until I had gotten my three older kids clothed, shoed, lunched, angered, prayed and out the door. Not an easy task considering... Considering nothing. It isn't easy no matter what the circumstances.
So, after shoo-ing them off and clothing the younger two, we load into the van only to see that annoying, orange light blaring at me. You know the one. The "Sorry honey. I forgot to tell you that the van is out of gas, but I didn't have time to fill it up" light. Do you have one of those lights? Yeah, well, I do and it was on.
So I hustle to the gas station, paying careful attention that the pump and gas tank opening on my van matched up. I put the car in park and look back at my two dirty faced hooligans and turn on the music. I get out, cell phone in hand, and begin to fill 'er up.
I love that the pump has those notches that allow you to fill up and text at the same time. So convenient. It's almost like they knew that my husband was deaf.
Soon I hear "Click." All done. Wonderful. Back in the hatch. No, I don't want a carwash. Yes, I want a reciept. Keys. Ummm...where are my keys. Wait a second.
Is that my car running?
Oh. My. Heck!!!!
I left the car running, with my children in the car and proceeded to fill it with gas. Was I trying to kill my children?
At first I felt a little panicked. Then a little perplexed. Wasn't my car supposed to blow up or something? Don't get me wrong. I was thrilled that it hadn't... for several reasons. But isn't that one of the warnings on the pump? "Turn off engine before filling up, you idiot! Your car could explode!!" or something like that.
But it didn't.
Huh.
Perhaps it just isn't advisable. Kind of like using a cell phone while pumping. Or smoking a cigarette, although that one is just plain idiosy.
So I guess you could say, I'm a survivor...
...because nothing happened.
Double links today with Mama Kat and Jen Matlock...Check them out!
But not until I had gotten my three older kids clothed, shoed, lunched, angered, prayed and out the door. Not an easy task considering... Considering nothing. It isn't easy no matter what the circumstances.
So, after shoo-ing them off and clothing the younger two, we load into the van only to see that annoying, orange light blaring at me. You know the one. The "Sorry honey. I forgot to tell you that the van is out of gas, but I didn't have time to fill it up" light. Do you have one of those lights? Yeah, well, I do and it was on.
So I hustle to the gas station, paying careful attention that the pump and gas tank opening on my van matched up. I put the car in park and look back at my two dirty faced hooligans and turn on the music. I get out, cell phone in hand, and begin to fill 'er up.
I love that the pump has those notches that allow you to fill up and text at the same time. So convenient. It's almost like they knew that my husband was deaf.
Soon I hear "Click." All done. Wonderful. Back in the hatch. No, I don't want a carwash. Yes, I want a reciept. Keys. Ummm...where are my keys. Wait a second.
Is that my car running?
Oh. My. Heck!!!!
I left the car running, with my children in the car and proceeded to fill it with gas. Was I trying to kill my children?
At first I felt a little panicked. Then a little perplexed. Wasn't my car supposed to blow up or something? Don't get me wrong. I was thrilled that it hadn't... for several reasons. But isn't that one of the warnings on the pump? "Turn off engine before filling up, you idiot! Your car could explode!!" or something like that.
But it didn't.
Huh.
Perhaps it just isn't advisable. Kind of like using a cell phone while pumping. Or smoking a cigarette, although that one is just plain idiosy.
So I guess you could say, I'm a survivor...
...because nothing happened.
Double links today with Mama Kat and Jen Matlock...Check them out!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)