You want to know what bugs me? Really bugs me?
I really hate it when people drive with their blinker on and they aren't turning. It's just annoying and potentially dangerous. Are they turning? Not turning? Are they going to change their minds and really need to change lanes right as I am in their blind spot?
See? Annoying.
I have been known to pass the car simply to get in front of it and turn on my blinker and not change lanes so that he will think, "Hey, that idiot driver left her....wait...what's that sound? Oops, it's my blinker. Thanks lady!"
Just doing my duty.
I am able to avoid doing this myself because I can hear the "Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. TICK TOCK."
Hubs can not.
And to be quite honest with you, he couldn't care less if he drives from here to Kingdom Come with his blinker blaring. He can't hear that annoying sound.
He hasn't quite caught on to the beauty of what I call the Winker. You know, when you push the magic blinker wand half way and it blinks, but once you release the pressure it stops. Winker. Hubs rarely uses it.
So when he changes lanes, the motion isn't enough of a turn to release the blinker, and it ticks on. And on. On....on....on.... Every time he passes.
I sign, "You Flash-Flash-Flash." ("Your blinker is on.")
Hubs shrugs, "Huh? Oh. Ehhh."
After having this happen every time he changes lanes...every single time...for the past 12+ years, I have come up with a plan on how to help Hubs appreciate the annoyingness of the blinker.
The next time he forgets his blinking blinker, I am going to slug him.
Tick... slug. Tock...slug.
"Why are you hitting me?" he will ask.
Tick...slug. Tock..slug.
"No, seriously. Why are you hitting me?"
Tick...slug....Tock slug. "You. Flash-Flash-Flash." slug.
Every time. Every. Single. Time.
See, leaving your blinker on really is dangerous.
Be a winker.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Windy weekend: whooooosh!
This weekend started off great!
We woke, loaded into the van and headed off to Home Depot. (Isn't that where every family of 7 goes on a Saturday morning?) Why? Flowers. Hello!
I go crazy when I see flowers. I wasn't always that way. In fact, up until last year I had never successfully planted a single flower. My whole life. But last year I said, "What the hay!" and started with several bulbs. The more they grew, the more excited I became. Then they bloomed.
Now I'm hooked. Line and sinker.
Anyway, we went into Home Depot, bought a bunch of flowers and other yard stuff. We were ready to plant our flowers. Only the wind started to blow....like "The wicked witch is dead" wind. You can't plant flowers in that! Dang!!
As if that wasn't enough, Brody had a soccer game. In the wind. I was sure they would cancel...but these are kids. Weather can't stop them. No siree! Well, wouldn't you know I left my hair-thing at home. That's what we call them in our house...hair-things. It's like naming a dog Dog. A thing you put in your hair: Hair-thing. Makes sense? Don't mock!
My hair is long-ish. So the whole whipping my eyeballs with longish hair was getting on my nerves. I sat through half the game before I looked at my wrist and realized, "Hey, there is a hair-thing. On my wrist. This whole time!"
While at the game, Brody fell and hurt his elbow. He complained about it at half time, but then played the rest of the game. Then he favored it the rest of the evening and came into my room that night. I promptly pulled out the non-bed for him, drugged him up and rolled back over.
Sunday his pain seemed worse and he was whimpering by the evening. Ugh! "I hope this boy hasn't broken another bone," I thought to myself out loud. After another night on my floor, I decided I needed to know: was he a master faker, or was it really broken?
To the doctor we went. She checked him out. She asked questions. In the end, she wasn't sure either. We are waiting for a radiologist to check out the x-ray. For now he has a doctor's note to get him out of PE for a week. On the bright side, this afternoon he was hanging like a monkey on our swing set. Master Brody.
Boy, can he act.
Today, our carpets were shampooed. Cleaned. Sanitized. Actually, that's a lie. I didn't want to pay the extra $50 for them to sanitize my carpets. I mostly couldn't understand why that wasn't included in the "Two Arms and A Leg" Package. Punks!
Regardless of the price, they look so much better. Not perfect, because there just aren't enough chemicals to get 5 kids out of my white carpet. Did my kids notice? Nope. Not at all. Ehh.
And that, my friends. was my weekend. Wind, bones and shampoo.
What did you do this weekend?
We woke, loaded into the van and headed off to Home Depot. (Isn't that where every family of 7 goes on a Saturday morning?) Why? Flowers. Hello!
I go crazy when I see flowers. I wasn't always that way. In fact, up until last year I had never successfully planted a single flower. My whole life. But last year I said, "What the hay!" and started with several bulbs. The more they grew, the more excited I became. Then they bloomed.
Now I'm hooked. Line and sinker.
Anyway, we went into Home Depot, bought a bunch of flowers and other yard stuff. We were ready to plant our flowers. Only the wind started to blow....like "The wicked witch is dead" wind. You can't plant flowers in that! Dang!!
As if that wasn't enough, Brody had a soccer game. In the wind. I was sure they would cancel...but these are kids. Weather can't stop them. No siree! Well, wouldn't you know I left my hair-thing at home. That's what we call them in our house...hair-things. It's like naming a dog Dog. A thing you put in your hair: Hair-thing. Makes sense? Don't mock!
My hair is long-ish. So the whole whipping my eyeballs with longish hair was getting on my nerves. I sat through half the game before I looked at my wrist and realized, "Hey, there is a hair-thing. On my wrist. This whole time!"
While at the game, Brody fell and hurt his elbow. He complained about it at half time, but then played the rest of the game. Then he favored it the rest of the evening and came into my room that night. I promptly pulled out the non-bed for him, drugged him up and rolled back over.
Sunday his pain seemed worse and he was whimpering by the evening. Ugh! "I hope this boy hasn't broken another bone," I thought to myself out loud. After another night on my floor, I decided I needed to know: was he a master faker, or was it really broken?
To the doctor we went. She checked him out. She asked questions. In the end, she wasn't sure either. We are waiting for a radiologist to check out the x-ray. For now he has a doctor's note to get him out of PE for a week. On the bright side, this afternoon he was hanging like a monkey on our swing set. Master Brody.
Boy, can he act.
Today, our carpets were shampooed. Cleaned. Sanitized. Actually, that's a lie. I didn't want to pay the extra $50 for them to sanitize my carpets. I mostly couldn't understand why that wasn't included in the "Two Arms and A Leg" Package. Punks!
Regardless of the price, they look so much better. Not perfect, because there just aren't enough chemicals to get 5 kids out of my white carpet. Did my kids notice? Nope. Not at all. Ehh.
And that, my friends. was my weekend. Wind, bones and shampoo.
What did you do this weekend?
Friday, April 8, 2011
If you only knew....
How well do you think you know me???
If you really knew me you would know that I kill plants. Not on purpose. Who does that? I just forget to water them and then they slowly turn yellow. Then brown. Then crunchy. Then I feel bad and blame it on something or someone else. Dang kids!
If you really knew me you would know that if you see me on Thursdays, I will not be showered. I will not smell nice. And I will probably still be in my PJ's when my kids get home at 3pm.
If you really knew me, you would know that at first I am shy. Friendly, yes. Comical...that's debatable. Timid? Absolutely. Case in point: I blogged for about 6 months before I went public. I wanted to check out the blogging world and see what it was like out there before I took the leap. Believe it or not, I am a little shy.
If you really knew me, you would know that 80% of the balls that we own (..and 90% of those 80% are footballs) are trapped under our trampoline. Our tramp is built into the ground..so you just walk onto it. It's nice, but annoying the amount of stuff that falls under there. We could have a yard sale with all the junk under there.
IF you really knew me, you would know that I will never have a yard sale.
If you really knew me, you would know that I hate jellybeans. Gag! The thought of that stuff getting stuck in my teeth makes me want to hurl. Yuck. Robin eggs, good. Cadbury eggs, awesome. Jelly beans.......blah! Oh, and Peeps. Yucky.
If you really knew me you would know that I am going to Women's Conference this year and can hardly wait to be back on my old stomping ground. Any of you going? Wanna come? BYU makes some heavenly fudge.
If you really knew me, you would know I like to walk around the house with socks on. Only, that is a little dangerous in my house after any meal. And when my son randomly drops water on the floor. Socks can soak that stuff up like nobody's business.
If you really knew me, you would know that I am really good at starting things. Not so good at finishing. Laundry. Grocery lists. Dishes. Growing plants. One of the few exceptions is labor. Obviously didn't have a problem finishing that up.
Now you know me!
Is there something I should know about you?
If you really knew me you would know that I kill plants. Not on purpose. Who does that? I just forget to water them and then they slowly turn yellow. Then brown. Then crunchy. Then I feel bad and blame it on something or someone else. Dang kids!
If you really knew me you would know that if you see me on Thursdays, I will not be showered. I will not smell nice. And I will probably still be in my PJ's when my kids get home at 3pm.
If you really knew me, you would know that at first I am shy. Friendly, yes. Comical...that's debatable. Timid? Absolutely. Case in point: I blogged for about 6 months before I went public. I wanted to check out the blogging world and see what it was like out there before I took the leap. Believe it or not, I am a little shy.
If you really knew me, you would know that 80% of the balls that we own (..and 90% of those 80% are footballs) are trapped under our trampoline. Our tramp is built into the ground..so you just walk onto it. It's nice, but annoying the amount of stuff that falls under there. We could have a yard sale with all the junk under there.
IF you really knew me, you would know that I will never have a yard sale.
If you really knew me, you would know that I hate jellybeans. Gag! The thought of that stuff getting stuck in my teeth makes me want to hurl. Yuck. Robin eggs, good. Cadbury eggs, awesome. Jelly beans.......blah! Oh, and Peeps. Yucky.
If you really knew me you would know that I am going to Women's Conference this year and can hardly wait to be back on my old stomping ground. Any of you going? Wanna come? BYU makes some heavenly fudge.
If you really knew me, you would know I like to walk around the house with socks on. Only, that is a little dangerous in my house after any meal. And when my son randomly drops water on the floor. Socks can soak that stuff up like nobody's business.
If you really knew me, you would know that I am really good at starting things. Not so good at finishing. Laundry. Grocery lists. Dishes. Growing plants. One of the few exceptions is labor. Obviously didn't have a problem finishing that up.
Now you know me!
Is there something I should know about you?
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The ULTIMATE party!
Welcome to my blog! I would have invited you to my house house, but that would require some major cleaning and that doesn't happen at my house. But my blog? Totally clean.
Kids? Do I have kids? Just look at my body. You can't get a body like this without some sacrifice. And sacrifice my body I did. 5 times over: four boys, one girl and a dog. Wait, I didn't give birth to the dog, but he has still managed to make his way onto my kids list. Love them all to death!
I am married to a man who doesn't hear a word I say. Literally. You see, Hubs is Deaf. Not death. That would just be weird. DeaF, meaning you can scream in his ears and he will hear nothing. I actually have a whole series about some of my experiences being married to a Deaf man...see the tab at the top.
Me? I'm Stef. I'm a little sarcastic, quite a bit silly, somewhat annoying, and a lot tired. Besides trying to keep my house from imploding, my kids from starving, Hubs from straying (he would never), I also work as a sign language interpreter. Needless to say, the only time I have alone is in the bathroom and even then...well...let's just say we need a deadbolt. Ahem...moving on....
I can't promise that you will find cutesy crafty things on this blog. In fact, I can promise you won't. I am not a extraordinary cook. My kids don't starve and that in and of itself is saying a lot. My walls aren't filled with amazing pictures...my kids are my masterpieces. Just look at them.
The only thing that I can promise is a good laugh.
What else is there in life... besides God... oh and family...oh yeah, and sports, and...and....okay! Okay! So there is more to life than laughing, but laughing makes life that much better.
So come on back anytime. Love to have ya!!
(If you want to meet tons of great bloggers, click below and head on over!)
Kids? Do I have kids? Just look at my body. You can't get a body like this without some sacrifice. And sacrifice my body I did. 5 times over: four boys, one girl and a dog. Wait, I didn't give birth to the dog, but he has still managed to make his way onto my kids list. Love them all to death!
I am married to a man who doesn't hear a word I say. Literally. You see, Hubs is Deaf. Not death. That would just be weird. DeaF, meaning you can scream in his ears and he will hear nothing. I actually have a whole series about some of my experiences being married to a Deaf man...see the tab at the top.
Me? I'm Stef. I'm a little sarcastic, quite a bit silly, somewhat annoying, and a lot tired. Besides trying to keep my house from imploding, my kids from starving, Hubs from straying (he would never), I also work as a sign language interpreter. Needless to say, the only time I have alone is in the bathroom and even then...well...let's just say we need a deadbolt. Ahem...moving on....
I can't promise that you will find cutesy crafty things on this blog. In fact, I can promise you won't. I am not a extraordinary cook. My kids don't starve and that in and of itself is saying a lot. My walls aren't filled with amazing pictures...my kids are my masterpieces. Just look at them.
The only thing that I can promise is a good laugh.
What else is there in life... besides God... oh and family...oh yeah, and sports, and...and....okay! Okay! So there is more to life than laughing, but laughing makes life that much better.
So come on back anytime. Love to have ya!!
(If you want to meet tons of great bloggers, click below and head on over!)
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
So I Married a Deaf Man: Protection?
We did something this weekend I thought I would never do.
We bought a gun.
A real, heavy, scary, 9MM (whatever that means) handgun. A if-someone-breaks-into-our-house-and-tries-to-hurt-my-children-I-will-hurt-them-badly-if-I-was-a-good-shot gun. I knew it was bound to happen. Hubs is really excited about it.
I am not.
Truth be told, I am horrified that one of my kids will get into it and hurt themselves or a sibling with the dang thing. Yes, I know there are cases/safes that can prevent that from happening. We are getting one that requires a fingerprint to open the thing...specifically mine and Hubs'.
There was no way that we were getting a lock that required a key. For one, we lose everything. Everything! So I would have a gun, in a safe, with a lock, and no key. Can you imagine? "I have a gun. And it's loaded!! And I'm not afraid to use it!" (To self..) "Where is that dang key!!??"
Secondly, my kids find every key in our house that we have lost, misplaced or hid. It doesn't matter if it belongs to us or not, whether we still have the lock or not; leave it to my kids, they will find the lost key. You see where this is going, right? Nope. No keys.
Well that's all great and dandy, but what does this have to do with being married to a Deaf man?
I was getting to that.
When we went in to buy the gun, Hubs wanted to "Test Drive" it; meaning he could shoot the gun to make sure he liked it. How convenient and scary at the same time.
We filled out all the paperwork, waivers, etc. Then the guy asked, "Do you want ear protection?"
Okay, the guy had just spent the last 30 minutes watching me interpret everything he said and vice versa. He made the usual comment, "That's so cool. I have always wanted to sign." Obviously he caught on that Hubs was deaf. Ear protection, not necessary.
So you can imagine my surprise when Hubs said that he would indeed like the ear protection.
"What?!?! Hubs, don't you remember? You are Deaf...like, really Deaf...as in there are rocks that can hear more than you can," I reminded him. (Hush. I'm not being mean. I can hear Hubs laughing when he reads that.)
To which he replied, "I know. I know. But I don't want other people to look over at me and wonder why I am not wearing ear protection."
Huh. I hadn't ever thought about that.
Did I mention that Hubs keeps following me around asking, "Do you want to touch the gun? When are you going to touch it?"
Men!
We bought a gun.
A real, heavy, scary, 9MM (whatever that means) handgun. A if-someone-breaks-into-our-house-and-tries-to-hurt-my-children-I-will-hurt-them-badly-if-I-was-a-good-shot gun. I knew it was bound to happen. Hubs is really excited about it.
I am not.
Truth be told, I am horrified that one of my kids will get into it and hurt themselves or a sibling with the dang thing. Yes, I know there are cases/safes that can prevent that from happening. We are getting one that requires a fingerprint to open the thing...specifically mine and Hubs'.
There was no way that we were getting a lock that required a key. For one, we lose everything. Everything! So I would have a gun, in a safe, with a lock, and no key. Can you imagine? "I have a gun. And it's loaded!! And I'm not afraid to use it!" (To self..) "Where is that dang key!!??"
Secondly, my kids find every key in our house that we have lost, misplaced or hid. It doesn't matter if it belongs to us or not, whether we still have the lock or not; leave it to my kids, they will find the lost key. You see where this is going, right? Nope. No keys.
Well that's all great and dandy, but what does this have to do with being married to a Deaf man?
I was getting to that.
When we went in to buy the gun, Hubs wanted to "Test Drive" it; meaning he could shoot the gun to make sure he liked it. How convenient and scary at the same time.
We filled out all the paperwork, waivers, etc. Then the guy asked, "Do you want ear protection?"
Okay, the guy had just spent the last 30 minutes watching me interpret everything he said and vice versa. He made the usual comment, "That's so cool. I have always wanted to sign." Obviously he caught on that Hubs was deaf. Ear protection, not necessary.
So you can imagine my surprise when Hubs said that he would indeed like the ear protection.
"What?!?! Hubs, don't you remember? You are Deaf...like, really Deaf...as in there are rocks that can hear more than you can," I reminded him. (Hush. I'm not being mean. I can hear Hubs laughing when he reads that.)
To which he replied, "I know. I know. But I don't want other people to look over at me and wonder why I am not wearing ear protection."
Huh. I hadn't ever thought about that.
Did I mention that Hubs keeps following me around asking, "Do you want to touch the gun? When are you going to touch it?"
Men!
Monday, April 4, 2011
They're being held hostage
I have a closet in my room
It holds my pants and shirts,
Hubs' nicky-nacks, a book or two,
Some shoes and maybe some dirt.
I have a room inside my house
with toys left here and there.
Not sure how to describe it other than
maybe your worst nightmare.
I have a house that's full of kids
who haven't learned to clean.
I thought that I had taught them this,
But proof has yet to be seen.
"This has to stop" I told my Hubs,
"The toys strewn everywhere!"
Then an idea popped into my head,
I hadn't a moment to spare.
I collected the toys from that room in my house.
Into my closet they went.
I put up a sign outside the door:
"These toys are up for rent."
"Huh?" "What?" "But those are mine."
A few began to cry.
"But when they are left upon my floor,
they're mine," was my reply.
"You can use them all, one at a time.
"You sign them out each day.
"You can have another, all you have to do
"Is put the first ones away."
Is it going to work? I sure hope so,
If not, what else can I do?
But call those men, in the clean white coats
And bid you all adieu.
Please pray for me.
It holds my pants and shirts,
Hubs' nicky-nacks, a book or two,
Some shoes and maybe some dirt.
I have a room inside my house
with toys left here and there.
Not sure how to describe it other than
maybe your worst nightmare.
I have a house that's full of kids
who haven't learned to clean.
I thought that I had taught them this,
But proof has yet to be seen.
"This has to stop" I told my Hubs,
"The toys strewn everywhere!"
Then an idea popped into my head,
I hadn't a moment to spare.
I collected the toys from that room in my house.
Into my closet they went.
I put up a sign outside the door:
"These toys are up for rent."
"Huh?" "What?" "But those are mine."
A few began to cry.
"But when they are left upon my floor,
they're mine," was my reply.
"You can use them all, one at a time.
"You sign them out each day.
"You can have another, all you have to do
"Is put the first ones away."
Is it going to work? I sure hope so,
If not, what else can I do?
But call those men, in the clean white coats
And bid you all adieu.
Please pray for me.
Friday, April 1, 2011
I'm a giver
I have something to say, and then I ain't gonna say no more.
Do you know where that quote came from? Anyone? Anyone?
Anywhoo....
I have something to share with you. Quite possibly the best recipe I have made in a long time.
These suckers are good. How do I know this? Because I made them? That I did, but that's not why.
Because I ate them? I wish.
Last week when my sister and her family were in town I made these puppies for all of us. It made 48 rolls. (I doubled the recipe.) But before they were done I had to run off to work.
When I got home that night, guess how many they had saved me. Zero. None. Not-a-one.
That's how I know they were good. They were so good that all the adults lost their minds and forgot to save some for me. They are that good.
So, if you want to eat something that is so good you will lose your mind, your manners and your love for family, these are for you!
What about you? What is a recipe that you want to share with me? Come on! Please.
Do you know where that quote came from? Anyone? Anyone?
Anywhoo....
I have something to share with you. Quite possibly the best recipe I have made in a long time.
These suckers are good. How do I know this? Because I made them? That I did, but that's not why.
Because I ate them? I wish.
Last week when my sister and her family were in town I made these puppies for all of us. It made 48 rolls. (I doubled the recipe.) But before they were done I had to run off to work.
When I got home that night, guess how many they had saved me. Zero. None. Not-a-one.
That's how I know they were good. They were so good that all the adults lost their minds and forgot to save some for me. They are that good.
So, if you want to eat something that is so good you will lose your mind, your manners and your love for family, these are for you!
What about you? What is a recipe that you want to share with me? Come on! Please.
I'm hungry over here!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)