I Miss My Sanity

Veteran's Day

2011-11-12T09:37:00.007-07:00

On my first Veteran's Day as a military mom, I was very lucky. My daughter was home.

She flew home late Thursday from Georgia to Colorado to spend the long weekend with us.

On Friday morning, we had a date with Kylie's third grade class. Danni had agreed to visit and talk to the kids.

When we arrived, there was a group of Cub Scouts out front, learning how to do a flag-raising ceremony.

We were just standing there, and one of Cub Scout leaders came up to Danni and shook her hand, and said, "Are you here to help with the flag-raising ceremony?"

Danni said, "Well, umm...I'm just..."

And the man literally pulled her by the hand and said, "Great! Come on!" And he dragged her away.

Cue me, laughing hysterically. I followed them, because I had my camera.

When I caught up with them, they were over by the side of the school. The guy in the brown jacket who had so thoughtfully dragged her over there, was talking to the boys. One of the boys had noticed that the flag on Danni's uniform was backwards, whereas the flags on the Cub Scout uniforms were not. The leader was explaining that the flag was backwards because it represented the soldier running into battle, with the flag flying behind her.

The looks on the faces of these little boys were priceless. A real live soldier was talking to them!

After she answered a few of their questions, they marched over to the flagpole and had their ceremony.

They had Danni raise the flag. That was pretty darn cool, with everyone looking on and the little boys doing their Cub Scout salute.

When school started, we went into Kylie's class.

We spent about 20 minutes with them. The teacher explained a bit about what Veteran's Day was and then let Kylie introduce her sister. Danni talked a bit about her job as a medic and what she is learning, and then she answered the kids' questions.

She did really well. I would have thought she had been a public speaker all her life. When I mentioned that later, she said that it's a lot easier to talk to kids. I would agree with that.

Can you spot the proud, beaming sister next to the soldier?

Happy Veteran's day to all who have served, and are currently serving. We are grateful for you.

Twenty Years Ago Today

2011-10-26T14:30:00.003-07:00

Today is our 20th wedding anniversary. My husband and me. 20 years. 20 years, three kids, ups, downs, good times, bad times.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. Everyone congratulates you. It's making me feel old.

On the bright side, Steve ordered up a beautiful snowstorm for me today. At least, that's what he said, that he ordered it for me for our anniversary. I love it. Best. Present. Ever.

Basic Graduation

2011-06-04T08:43:00.013-07:00

Last month, on May 4th precisely, so I'm only a month late writing this...we traveled from Denver to Lawton, OK (by car, not recommended) to see my baby graduate from basic training.

Well, we left on May 4th, very early in the morning. We got there in the evening. This was a Wednesday, right?

The hotel we stayed at had an indoor pool. Being a native of Arizona (which meant swimming from April to October) and now being a Colorado kid and having not seen a pool since August...this had to be the first thing Kylie did. Someone diagram that sentence, please. I think it's a little off.

Thursday was Family Day. We went to the base at about 9am, and they had a demonstration of marching, hand to hand combat, introduced the honor grads, and had a citizenship ceremony for three members of the platoon who were becoming American citizens. That was neat. In case you can't tell which one of those identically dressed people is my daughter (it took me a while to find her), I drew a heart on her.

After the ceremony, the soldiers were released to get into their dress uniforms and spend the rest of the day with their families. Up until this point, we still hadn't been able to talk to her or be within 100 yards of her.

She was awfully excited to see her sisters. And they were pretty excited to see her.

This one just about killed me.

This is Danni with one of her "battles." They have designated battle buddies, because they don't go anywhere (even the bathroom) alone. They just call each other battles. I think these two will be friends for life.

So we spent the afternoon with Danni in Lawton. There's not much to do in Lawton. We went out to lunch, and then to the one mall they have. Surprisingly, it seemed as if most of her platoon was at the mall too. Like I said, there's not much in Lawton.

Danni's friend above was with us, because her mom hadn't arrived yet. I think they spent about $100 each in Victoria's Secret. One of the girls who worked in the store said they always love family day, because they get an influx of girls who haven't seen makeup or frilly underwear (or a mall) in 10 weeks, and they all have 10 weeks of pay that they've had no use for up until now.

Also, Danni decided to treat herself to her first really nice phone. All we've ever given the poor kid is whatever you could get for free or maybe $20 with your upgrade. And never a smart phone. Because have you seen the prices of those data/internet/whatever plans?

She bought herself a Droid Incredible 2, which is a nicer phone than I will ever have. She got a plan with unlimited data/internet/whatever, to which I said, "That's nice, honey!", because I DON'T HAVE TO PAY THE BILL. How nice is THAT?

After the mall, we went back to our hotel room and just hung out for a while. She enjoyed lying on the bed just relaxing and watching TV. I guess she hasn't been able to do that for a while.

An hour or so before we had to take her back to the base, we headed to a park to take some pictures. I told her I wanted a nice picture of her in her uniform, because guess what? You know those basic traning pictures that everyone has next to the flag? She doesn't have one. I still don't know why, but she doesn't. Which is fine, because she looks amazing now. She lost about 20 lbs in basic training and she is so...in shape. Maybe I should go to basic training.

So, this is my own official basic training portrait of her. I like it.

I have to say, this is my favorite picture of these two, EVER. In one picture, I've summed up both of their personalities perfectly. Oh, and did I mention that Danni and her battle also got their nails done at the mall? I guess a lot of the girls do that too.

As much as these two have fought over the years, this is sort of... rewarding? Heartwarming? Amazing?

My three babies. Where one is in the army, a second one is driving and now officially a high school junior, and the other one...well, she's still a baby. Make her stop growing right now, please.

We dropped her off at the base around 8pm and headed back to the hotel. The next day, Friday, was graduation. I don't really have any good pictures of the actual graduation, mainly because it was very dark in the auditorium and most pictures came out blurry.

Outside the auditorium afterwards, my officially graduated soldier and her youngest sister.

Here's Danni with her very proud grandparents, who arrived Thursday afternoon from AZ. My dad was like, beyond proud of her. Like more proud than he's ever been of me. These are the grandparents that Danni lived with her senior year of high school when we moved to Colorado. I know there were a lot of times that Danni felt like an intruder as the year went on, and you could tell my dad in his 70s was tiring of living with a teenager. I don't blame him.

However, he is over the moon about this army thing with her. I told him that if he's as proud of her as he seems, he should take her aside and tell her. Which is not the sort of thing that my dad does. But he did. Which was awesome.

You know what I just noticed right now, this very second? My parents. Are both. Wearing. Fanny packs. Fanny packs! How did I not notice that when we were all there? I think I might have to have a talk with them.

The whole family, all very proud of our soldier.

She got to spend the rest of Friday with us as well. We went out to lunch again, where she calls everyone "ma'am" and "sir". Not us, because that would be weird, but like the waitress: "What would you like to drink?" "I'd like an iced tea please, ma'am". And the people all over Lawton who would randomly congratulate her, because they're used to this. Fort Still graduates a platoon every weekend. Random man: "Congratulations!" "Thank you, Sir". It still sounds very strange coming out of my daughter's mouth. But it made me proud. Yes, I know it's required when they're in uniform. But still. Was this MY daughter?

But out of public, in the hotel room, oh yes, it most definitely is my daughter. With more of a potty-mouth than she had 10 weeks ago. I think it's an army thing. I'm glad she hasn't changed too much. Only for the better. I talked to her on the phone last night, and she's still the same kid. She told me that the girls in her bay were having races up and down the hall in chairs on wheels. Sounds like a college dorm. Must be the weekend!

Anyway, we had to leave her at the base again Friday night, because she was shipping out early Saturday morning. I cried. Danni said, "Mom, don't cry." How can I not? We have to leave you. Again. And you're in the freaking ARMY.

We left Saturday morning for that hell of a drive back to Denver. It's not quite a long as Denver to Phoenix, but almost. Which is why I already have PLANE tickets for the girls and me for our trip to AZ this summer (Yay! Planes!) 14 hours in a car, vs. 1 hr 45 min. on a plane. I (and my Xanax) will take the plane, thanks. Even if it is a bit of a hit to the wallet.

Danni is now spending 16 weeks at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, beginning her training as a medic. She will be able to get her LPN while in the army, and then eventually college and an RN. That's the plan, anyway. We don't know yet where she's going to be stationed when she graduates from AIT. Can it please be somewhere safe?

Happy Basic Training Birthday

2011-04-10T20:37:00.003-07:00

I have three daughters. The oldest one, we've always called Danni. She turned 19 on Friday.

She turned 19 in basic training. This was hard for me. Not only could I not hug her or tell her happy birthday, I couldn't even call her. Hopefully, the large envelope of cards, letters and pictures I sent her will suffice.

Her platoon having a Facebook page is interesting. Because I get to see what they are doing. And when they post pictures, I'm scouring each one, looking for her. I'm saving them all. My mom said she is saving them all too, and will make a scrapbook for Danni. I like that idea, because I would just save the pictures. My mom is the best grandma ever.

So, pictures from the Facebook page. This one is from one of the first few days she was there. They just finished week 5 of 9, in case you're wondering. Graduation is May 6th.

During week two, they got to do the gas chamber. I know this is the only thing she was really dreading, so I'm glad they got it out of the way in week two. I know this is her, because her name is was her uniform in all the pictures. I've strategically blurred it out, so I don't cause a national security incident.

She wrote me a letter and said that the gas chamber really sucked. I can kind of tell by this picture of her after she came out. Judging by the look of the guy behind her, he didn't care for it much either.

Then, there are the guns. Excuse me, rifles. I've already been corrected on that one. By my father. She's the first one in line there, getting her rifle...cleaned?

She wrote me that she likes shooting. It's fun. And she's even pretty good at it. I'm sure that during her medical/nursing duties, shooting a rifle will come in handy. Yes, I know they all have to learn it. It doesn't mean I have to like it.

Kapow! Blam! Boom! Wait. I might be thinking of comic books.

Hello, Private Danni. Nice shooting, there.

Wait, what is this? Smiling? In basic training? Is this allowed?

Awww, look...she's making friends. It's just like college, except with, you know, rifles and hand grenades. And protective eyewear.

Happy birthday kiddo. Four more weeks until graduation. Oklahoma here we come!

The Army Goes Facebook

2011-03-13T08:29:00.002-07:00

So, how's this for weird? My daughter's platoon has a Facebook page! It was created and is being run by the wife of one of the drill sergeants. On Sundays we get a schedule of what they'll be doing the coming up week. Also, family members of the soldiers can leave messages and she will (she says) pass them along.

The family members are starting to talk to each other, which I think is cool. By the time we go to graduation at the beginning of May, I'll already know all these people.

In case you're interested, the Facebook page is here: Bravo Battery Bushmasters

They also post pictures. Lots of pictures. Hundreds of pictures. As usual, my daughter is quite adept at hiding from the camera. I have been able to find a few of her though. I snagged two of them where I could actually see her face:

That's my baby in the middle there, standing in formation on day 1 of basic training.

This was on Friday. They called this the Treadwell Tower, and it's a mass of ladders, rope bridges, and a 40 foot rappelling wall. Out of the 300 pictures or so that they posted on Friday, this is the only one I could find of her. Looked to me like she had climbed up the ladder behind her, and was kneeling on a platform ready to take on a rope bridge. Kylie said it looked like a big playground. :)

I also got to talk to her briefly yesterday. She said that they were allowed to use their phones for five minutes. Because of the earthquake in Japan, there were lots of soldiers worried about friends/family members stationed or living in Japan, so they let them have some phone time.

She told me that things were going well, and that it's really not bad. The thing that is the hardest for her (she says) is "immature people who can't keep their mouths' shut, so the whole platoon winds up paying for it." I guess she doesn't like it much when one person gets out of line, and everyone has to run or do pushups or whatever. I wouldn't like that much either.

She said (after week 1) that the training itself isn't bad at all. Some of it is even kind of fun (See: rope bridge, playground). This coming Tuesday is not going to be fun, but at least they are getting it out of the way at the beginning. The gas chamber. Where they get to go in to a chamber with gas masks on, then they get to take them off and see what it feels like to be gassed. I've seen other pictures and video on YouTube...they all come out crying and gasping and puking. I hope on that day, I don't see any pictures of her. This is the only thing she has been dreading. But like I said, at least they're getting it out of the way early.

I think the hardest part of this whole thing for me is trying to separate the pride I have for my daughter with my feelings about the military. I am not a big fan of the military, war, guns, killing, bombs, or anything war-related. I don't care for movies about war. I don't like violence at all. And my daughter has joined the army. Don't get me wrong, I am so, so proud of her. How many 18 year-old girls are completely and totally on their own? Getting training, and earning money while doing it. With no husband or children, and hardly anything she needs to spend money on, she's going to have a nice fat balance in her checking account by the time she's done with AIT (Advanced Individual Training).

Her AIT will be at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, which is directly after basic. If you're in the medical field, that's where you go for AIT. Her job is 68W, or a medic. She wants to eventually become a nurse. Anyway, back to the part where I am so very proud of her. She didn't want to take money from us, nor go into debt to pay for college. You know what she wants to buy when she gets out of AIT? A laptop. Not a car, not a big screen TV, not a mall full of clothes. She wants a nice laptop. I told her, "Baby, you'll have plenty of money and you'll definitely have earned it, so you go buy yourself the nicest, shiniest laptop you can find." :)

I love that kid. The military, not so much. But I sure do love her. Have I mentioned that I'm really, really proud of her?

The Purple Hand

2011-02-26T09:40:00.004-07:00

So, this Army thing. My fears are realized and my daughter has already been injured. But perhaps a little backstory.

When you go to basic training, you don't actually start basic training right when you get there. The first week is called reception, where you are not in the actual barracks, but in some sort of holding place. In Danni's case, a hall with about 50 girls and bunk beds and lockers.

So you spend reception week getting your uniforms, seeing the doctor and dentist, getting immunizations (you know, whether you had them as a kid or not, I guess you get to have them all again) and getting paperwork in order. I'm not sure how this takes a week, but whatever.

When you're in basic training, every night, 7 or so people (or however long they sleep) have to do an hour of "guard duty." What they are protecting, I don't know. But what I'm saying is on certain nights, you have to wake up in the middle of the night and stand guard for an hour, then go back to bed.

In reception, I suppose they are preparing you for this when they do the same thing, except instead of guard duty, you're just watching the reception desk. In the middle of the night. To make sure it doesn't escape, or something.

Danni arrived at Fort Sill on Wednesday the 16th. On Thursday night, sometime in the middle of the night, she had her turn at holding down the fort. Oh, I slay me. Get it, fort? Sill?

She also managed to get herself a top bunk, not by choice. Apparently, there are no ladders or anything, you just jump down and climb up.

Now, the week before she left, she didn't get much sleep. She was nervous and scared and jittery. So I'm blaming exhaustion on the fact that my daughter, getting up to watch the reception desk in the middle of the night, fell out of her top bunk. Onto a concrete floor. She landed on her butt, and her left hand.

Well, her butt is fine, but her left hand ended up like this:

In case you're wondering how I got the picture, they're allowed to keep their cell phones while they're in reception week.

They took xrays, and fortunately, nothing is broken. She just has some deep bone bruises on her hand and wrist. However, this injury did prevent her from leaving for actual basic with her unit on Wed. the 23rd. Because you can't do pushups with your arm in a thing.

So on Wednesday, all the girls except Danni and one other girl who has some sort of infection, left. And a new crop of girls came in. When the first group left? My girl grabbed a bottom bunk.

She is pissed, because reception is boring, and she has to stay another week. As far as I know, she will actually start basic this Wednesday, March 2nd. You know what they do in reception? They sleep, eat, clean and work out. Woooo.

On the bright side, she said the food is surprisingly good. On the night I talked to her, she said she had some amazing spinach lasagna. So there's that.

My Daughter Wears Combat Boots

2011-02-23T07:06:00.004-07:00

These are my kids on February 14th at the Downtown Sheraton in Denver. See the one in the middle? On February 14th, she was still a civilian.

That night, we had to leave her at the Sheraton. Kylie wasn't going with us to the swearing in the next day, so she had to say her goodbye here. You know what's hard? Saying goodbye to your eight year-old sister. You know what's even harder? Crying in the car all the way home because your eight year-old daughter is crying that she's going to miss her big sister so much.

This is my daughter on February 15th, when she ceased to be a civilian and became a soldier. More crying, because my baby is vowing to protect and defend our country, against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Well, not because of that, but because she's leaving. And because I am so dang proud of her.

My 18 year-old and 16 year-old babies. I don't care, they're still babies. And look, they even look like they love each other in this picture. Ok, I know they love each other, but they do have a hard time living together. Something about taking each other's clothes and makeup.

Proud and sad. Sad and proud. You know what the worst time of the day is? When I'm driving to work. 25 minutes by myself, to do nothing but think about how much I miss her, what I'm going to say in my next letter, and hoping to God she doesn't get hurt, or worse. One day, I will stop crying in the car on the way to work every day. She's only been gone a week. It will stop, right?

Her job is 68W, Healthcare Specialist. She's going to be a nurse, eventually. I'm really, really glad she's going to be helping people, not killing them. Yes, I'll say it....I'm terrified she's going to have to go to the Middle East. Even though I've been told that in her job, not a lot of women go there because of the issues of Middle Eastern countries and their disdain for women. I've been told she would have a choice, and I know she would choose not to go there. It still scares me.

Honestly? I've been told this and that, but I have a hard time trusting the Army. I'm afraid they're going to suck out her soul. What if I go to her graduation from basic training at the end of April, and they've replaced my daughter with a Danni-looking robot? I just don't want her to change. More responsible would be good. But I don't want her to change.

Oh, Doctor? Can I get a four-year supply of Xanax, please?

Having a Job Is Time Consuming

2011-01-15T10:02:00.002-07:00

The fact that having a job is time-consuming might be obvious to most people, but I forgot just exactly how little free time you have when working 40 hours a week, plus another 10 hours (30 min. each way, 5 days) commuting.

I'm still here, and I read everyone's posts when I get a chance, and have done zero commenting. I have so much to catch up on.

I think I wrote the last post about my job before I actually started. I was under the impression that I would be working at a help desk in a hospital. That's not exactly the case. I work for...well, I'd rather not have anyone search the name of the company and have my blog come up, but it's three words. First word is a major religion with the pope as its leader. Second word is the opposite of sickness, or a type of insurance we'd all like to have. Third word, initiatives. Well, I don't actually work for them yet, since it's a contract to hire position. I work for the contractor right now, but I really like the job and I think they like me pretty well, so I'm hoping that sooner rather than later, I will be hired on and then my family will have...you know, that type of insurance we'd all like to have.

So I work not in a hospital, but in a very, very nice office with a room full of (mostly) very cool people, and we support about 70 hospitals from that room. Calls range from nurses who lock themselves out of every medical computer application known to man (those are the easy ones), to help with an Excel spreadsheet, to "I can't find my personal files in Outlook", to "I need a shared drive mapped to my computer." There are also calls about phones and printers and scanners and such where we just send a ticket to their local IT people. Then there are the calls about which I am completely clueless, and have to ask for help. But that's ok, everyone in the room is always asking questions of co-workers. And I find that as time goes by, I'm having to ask fewer questions, which is good.

In a nutshell, I really like the job, like the office, like the people. Being away from the house 50 hours a week is the only hard part. I work from 11am to 7:30pm right now. The nice part is that I am able to get up with the kids in the morning and get them off to school, then still have a little time to get a few things done around the house. The bad part is not getting home until 8pm. Luckily, I have Shannon to watch Kylie, and she's doing a pretty good job.

Speaking of Shannon...

How is it that this little rugrat turned 16 this past week? My middle child is 16. Sad that she's growing up? Yes. But with the passing of time also comes the passing of the adolescent angst, thank God. She and her boyfriend Jacob just passed the 10 month mark, and they seem pretty happy. He's a nice kid, if not so much in the ambition department, and he's sweet to her, so it's all good at this point.

Speaking of kids, Danni is home! She leaves for basic training a month from today. It's so nice to have her back. Three months of living on her own has really changed her for the better, I think. The "I'm 18 and you can't tell me what to do" attitude is gone, and I feel like I have my daughter back. She is excited to start basic, because she wants to get her life going. She is going to be going in as an E3, and is on an RN track, with her army job title being Health Care Specialist. For now, she is enjoying sleeping in and spending time with her sisters.

I promise, very soon, to visit all of you and see what you are up to. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a very happy new year!

What? Me, Worry?

2010-11-12T16:39:00.004-07:00

HAPPY DANCE!!!

So, remember about eight days ago when I was moaning about how I couldn't find a job?

Well, guess what?

Today, I GOT A JOB!!!!

It happened so fast, it was unbelievable.

Last Thursday, I sent my resume to a recruiter for a job that my husband found online. It was considered an IT job, so I never would have been looking for that. But it was for a help desk position, at a hospital. My previous job? Medical software support.

I emailed my resume, and the recruiter called me not 20 minutes later. She suggested a few minor changes to my resume to fit the position. I made the changes and emailed it back to her.

Friday, I heard nothing. Because nothing gets done on Fridays.

Monday, I called her. She hadn't heard anything from the client yet.

Wednesday, was poking around online, and found that the same job had been reposted. I panicked, and called the recruiter again. I asked if this means they don't want to interview me. She said it probably meant nothing, because it could be an auto-poster, and she still hadn't heard from them.

Thursday afternoon, she called and said that they loved my medical background, and that she had to forward me a few questions that they wanted me to answer. And oh by the way, they needed someone to start Monday.

I answered the techie-type questions as best I could and sent them back to the recruiter, thinking, "I am not qualified for this job at all." I told my husband, I probably was not going to get the job, because I didn't know half the stuff they asked. I Googled some of it, and made the rest of it up.

This morning, the recruiter calls me and says that they want me and are offering me the position! Yay! I accepted, then went down to the recruiter's office to fill out the crap ton of paperwork.

This is a contract-to-hire position, so I'll be an employee of the recruiter for 3-6 months, then after that, the hospital WILL (I'm so not saying if) hire me on. And let me just say, this is the highest-paying job I have ever had. I am so happy and grateful right now. I will never, ever again take having a job for granted. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me.

Now we just need to find hubby a job, and we're good to go. :)

Beyond Frustrated

2010-11-04T10:24:00.002-07:00

I can't find a job, people.

I've applied. Oh, I've applied.

I worked for a medical software company for five years, before they decided to close the office. I have extensive computer experience. I have excellent written and verbal communication skills. I have customer service experience. I have a bachelor's degree in psychology. I am one hell of an employee. I am smart, responsible, punctual, and work well with others.

What the hell, Internet?

I had one interview with an accounting firm who does city management for small cities that are too small to have their own city management. It was for a job in the utilities billing department.

I got an interview on that one. It went well. Then I got a second interview. I thought that also went well.

When the staffing agency that sent me on that interview informed me that I did not get the job, she said all the client would say is that, "It just wasn't the right fit." Not that I wasn't qualified, or they didn't think I could do that job, just 'it wasn't the right fit."

What the &*^% does that mean? I'm too fat? They didn't like the amount of gray in my hair? (Which honestly, isn't that much) Didn't like my shirt? ( I love my interview outfit shirt.) I was wearing black pants, black flats and a lovely red/silver/black top. What? What is it? Do these people know how much they'd love me if they'd give me a chance? I am amazing to work with. Former co-workers LOVE me.

I had another interview with the county administrator's office for an admin position. I was interviewed by a panel of three people. Then I was given computer testing. I thought the interview part went great. I did outstanding on the computer testing. The lady who gave me the computer testing (who was part of the panel of three) said she loved my personality and she hoped I got the job.

But I didn't.

My ego is bruised, Internet. This is the first time in my life I have ever had face-to-face interviews, and not gotten the job. Seriously, this has never happened to me before.

I need a job. My UI benefits aren't going to last forever. In fact, not a whole lot longer.

I've hit a wall. I want to go back to bed. I'm sick of this. Wait...maybe I won the Powerball last night...let me just check real quick....

Nope, didn't win. Neither did anyone else, but that doesn't really help me.

Seriously, it's getting hard to do anything. Like, doing a load of laundry is a monumental effort. Speaking of which... I need to go move clothes. Have I also mentioned I need a job?

Any advice, anyone? Anyone in the Denver area need a great employee? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Wordless Wednesday

2010-11-03T14:52:00.002-07:00

Innocence

2010-10-27T09:10:00.006-07:00

This is my baby. She is eight years old.

She doesn't look eight years old. She is not quite four feet tall, and still hasn't hit 40 lbs.

She can be a pill at times, but she is a snuggler, a kisser, and most of all, she still loves me. She tells me every day.

It kills me to think of what's going to happen in about four years.

Yesterday, her neighborhood buddy Zach (age 9) came over to see if she could play. He'd gotten a new Wii game that he wanted to show her, something about rabbits. I'm guessing now (after perusing Amazon) that it's probably "Rayman Raving Rabbids", or some such thing.

He said, "Kylie, guess what? My character is wearing a thong!"

Kylie looked at me and said, "What's a thong?"

At that moment, I just wanted to hold her and never let go. Because despite having two teenage sisters and going to public school and having two nine year-old boys as neighborhood friends, this child honestly had no idea what a thong was. I just told her it was a kind of underwear.

Can't I freeze her this way? Before she knows that the world is horrible and nasty and there is no Santa Claus?

Is letting go of the last one always this hard?

So Many Things

2010-10-19T12:33:00.008-07:00

I felt like I should write an update, but I honestly have no idea where to start. Shannon had her wisdom teeth surgically removed, so that was a fun week. We found out from an xray that her wisdom teeth were actually sideways underneath the gums. All four of them. So she was going to have to have them out eventually, and since she hadn't yet grown much root to speak of, the oral surgeon said now rather than later would be better. It was still a rough week, but she is fully recovered now.

On Sept. 3rd, Kylie turned 8 years old. We had a party for her at Jumpstreet, where Danni happened to have a part-time job. Actually, it was the other way around...Danni had a part-time job there, so we got a really sweet deal on the party, as a family member of an employee.

In case you haven't heard of Jumpstreet (and no, not the Johnny Depp version), it's like an indoor trampoline park. Where I could never afford a party for the 18 kids or so we had, without the incredible family discount. So thank you Danni, and thank you Jumpstreet. The kids had a great time.

Shannon played softball for her high school again this fall. With her Canon Rebel, I got some pretty great pictures this year. This is Shannon in an actual game, sliding into home and being safe. You can see the ball under the catcher's arm over in the left of the picture.

I decided that school pictures are a rip-off, and that I can take my own pictures just as well. Plus, that way you can print only what you need, instead of having a huge envelope full of pictures you won't use. You know what I mean. You all have them. Besides, it's pretty easy to find a nice background in our neighborhood.

In other news, Danni has joined the Army. Her job will be 68W, Healthcare Specialist. She leaves for Fort Sill, OK for basic training on Feb. 15th. If you are a male, 68W is pretty much a combat medic. If you're female, non-combat. In a hospital on a safe base, hopefully. I do have to be honest with myself about the fact that she could be stationed in the Middle East.

I was having a hard time with this at first, because I still questioned her motives. I was still convinced that her boyfriend had talked her into it, and he was pulling her strings. Now I know that she wants to be a nurse, she can get her LPN in the service, and have money for college when she gets out. Or, she could decide to make it a career, get an RN and then she's an officer. I don't know anything for sure except this: She wanted to go back to AZ for a while. So she's gone again. She says she will be back for Christmas, then back to AZ for New Year's, and then back here in January until she leaves for Fort Sill on February 15th.

I am proud of her. I'm proud of her for wanting to be independent and not wanting to rely on us. It's hard though...but I'm getting used to the idea.

Before she left to go back to AZ, we wanted to take some pictures. She and Kylie have a special bond. Kylie was a little worried when she heard "army", but we told her that there are lots of different jobs in the army. Some people are fighters, then there are office workers and police and doctors and nurses and cooks, etc. Danni's going to learn to be a nurse. I think that made her feel better.

This one was my favorite. This print is now in a really nice "Sisters" frame in Kylie's room.

Why, hello there cutie. What are you doing today? These guys/girls are everywhere in our valley.

I let Shannon drive around some residential streets the other day so I could get pictures of the amazing fall foliage we have here. She's going to be getting her learner's permit this Saturday, so yes, I cheated a bit.

Last weekend, Kylie's friend Courtney had a birthday. What did Courtney want to do for her birthday? She wanted to go indoor skydiving. Because of the cost, her parents said only one friend could accompany her. Kylie was that lucky friend. I'm posting two videos of her skydiving experience. It was just the coolest thing ever to watch.

I did not know the instructor was going to take her up with him, so if I sound surprised during this video, that's why.

In case you, like we, were wondering why she plugged her nose there at the end, I asked her. She said it was only because "the air was going up my nose!"

So, that's the good stuff. The bad stuff is that Hubby and I are both still unemployed, and those UI benefits are dwindling. We're going to have to file bankruptcy, which I have been avoiding until we couldn't avoid it any more. And I'm scared. But things always work out, right? They have, so far, for us. So I'm keeping the faith. Trying to, anyway. But if you're prone to praying or sending good thoughts, or anything of that nature, it certainly couldn't hurt, and I'd appreciate it. We need some good job karma, or mojo, or something. :)

Autumn?

2010-09-25T09:43:00.002-07:00

See that countdown ticker over there? ---------------> I put that up last year when it started to get warm. I hate warm. So I put up a countdown for how many days were left until it was fall again.

As you can see, my counter has hit zero. The problem? We're setting record highs here in Denver. No, it's not the 107 that Phoenix is expecting today (God, just kill me if I were still there), but we are 10 degrees above normal right now...expecting mid 80s all week instead of mid 70s, which would be the norm.

One of the main reasons I was looking forward to moving here was four seasons. I know we will get four seasons, but it's not happening fast enough. Last year, our first snow was on Oct. 10th. I remember it well, because I was watching it rain out my bedroom window, and then I started thinking, "Wow, that rain looks really...thick." Not like any rain I had ever seen before. Then all of a sudden, it was no longer rain, but little white flakes drifting down. I actually stood there and watched as rain turned to sleet, and then snow, and I thought it was the coolest thing I had ever seen.

Ok fall...I'm waiting!

A Little Song To Convey My Feelings Today

2010-08-23T14:00:00.004-07:00

You're Such A Dipthong!

2010-08-03T09:26:00.005-07:00

This is the new favorite saying of the kids on my block. Yes, they've been out of school too long. Unfortunately (for me), school doesn't start here until August 23rd.

I first heard this a few weeks ago from the mouth of my seven year-old daughter.

This one.*

She called one of her friends a dipthong.

I said, "Do you know what a dipthong is?"

Well, of course she doesn't. She's seven. It just sounds funny.

I told her, "It's a term used in English. It's a word used to describe a gliding vowel sound made up of two vowels together. Like the word 'eye'."

Apparently, this is way over the head of a soon-to-be second-grader. They continue to call each other dipthongs.

I must admit, it does sound like an insult.

*Photo courtesy of my soon-t0-be sophomore, who has taken beginning and intermediate photography with a dinosaur of a film/SLR camera, and is taking digital photography this year. This was taken with her brand new Canon Rebel, which I was able to afford thanks to her older sister, who has decided NOT to go to college this year. She is instead wanting to join the National Guard or the Reserves, thanks to her dumb-ass boyfriend (still in AZ) who got such a low score on the ASVAB that he just was assigned the job of "infantry scout", or some such thing, and leaves for basic training in January. This is a very long story, probably needing a different post. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against the military, but if it weren't for him and this stupid hold he has on her, she'd be starting college in three weeks, instead of sitting on my couch all day.

She's such a dipthong.

It's The End Of The World As We Know It (Maybe)

2010-07-22T14:24:00.004-07:00

So I'm watching TV the other day, and I'm flipping through channels, bored out of my mind. I came upon a show on the History Channel called The Nostradamus Effect. There are many different episodes of this show, all chronicling the many ways the world might end. This one happened to be about the 2012 theory.

So, there's something about the Mayan calendar, and it abruptly ends on December 21st, 2012. Some say this means the end of the world. Other, more sane people, say this is just the end of one age/era, and the beginning of another.

There are other theories, some ancient and some more recent, that seem to point to this date as the end of...something.

I started thinking: Maybe this isn't such a bad thing. If the world really does end on Dec. 21st, 2012, there are a lot of things that I won't have to worry about. Like our current financial situation. I mean, who cares about things like retirement and kids going to college and jobs, if we're only going to be here another 2 1/2 years?

My biggest concern right now though is this: Dec. 21st is really bad timing for the end of the world. That's four days before Christmas, people! What on earth do I do about Christmas shopping that year?

I mean, if the world is going to end on Dec. 21st, I don't really see the point of going out and spending $1000 on Christmas presents. That seems like sort of a waste of money.

Then again, if the Mayans were wrong and the world doesn't end, and I haven't done any Christmas shopping, I am so totally screwed. I'd have three days to go and buy everything.

I have a feeling everyone will be getting gift cards that year.

Home With A Reluctant Kid And A Menagerie

2010-06-22T07:40:00.008-07:00

I'm home from nearly three weeks in Arizona. I won't even get into the drama rollercoaster that was my trip, but Danni is here, with us. Reluctantly here, but here and ready to register for college.

When you're used to having two kids living with you, having the third one back is an adjustment. Especially after a two-day car ride, that drama rollercoaster I referred to, and readjusting to the altitude. Between all that, I'm tired and I have a headache.

But, that's not enough. You see, whenever anyone moves here, it seems we acquire another animal.

A long long time ago, when Danni was seven and Shannon was four, we got our first family dog.

That would be Bo, on the right. We got him at a shelter for $10. He'd been there for two days, and they wanted $5 a day for the boarding. They told us they thought he was about a year old. His previous owners had dropped him off because...well, I guess they just didn't want him.

There were no adoption papers, no background check, no fees except the $10. Just take him. He's a chihuahua/pug mix. When we got him over 11 years ago, he was called a mutt. Now he's called a "chug." I think I feel a little smug that I got a designer dog for $10. I've seen chugs in pet stores for over $1000. We think he's about 12 years old. We were a normal little family with two kids and a dog.

When Steve moved to Colorado in December of 2008, he had a small one-bedroom apartment, while he waited for us to finish the school year in Arizona and join him. He was lonely. He decided he needed a dog. Enter dog #2, Luke...a beagle mix. He's about a year and a half old. And he howls. A lot.

Then in June of 2009, the two younger girls and I arrived in Colorado. Shannon was not happy about being here. One of the things we had promised her to soften the blow is that she could have a rabbit.

This is Splatter, Shannon's rabbit. She lives in a hutch in the basement that Shannon is supposed to keep clean. She already had the name when we got her from the Humane Society. I suggested renaming her Rorschach (Rory for short), but no one else got my little psychology joke. So she remained Splatter.

Yes, that's a rabbit, on a leash. Shannon's a middle child, and she's a bit...different. She bought a cat leash and harness, and takes the rabbit for walks.

So, now I have a third child that I've forced to move to Colorado against her will. And we all know what that means, right? Of course, she wants her own dog.

At first, like several months ago, she wanted one of those little pocket dogs. But after living with my parents and their Doberman/Shepherd mix for a year, she decided she liked bigger dogs. Besides, she wanted a dog that she could exercise with...take on runs with her.

We went back to the shelter this past Friday and found a nice dog that everyone in the family liked. However, since we were honest on our application and said that we rented our house (we should have just said we owned it), and we said we already had two dogs, part of the adoption process was the shelter calling the landlord to find out if we were allowed to have three dogs. This was at 1:30pm on Friday afternoon.

Steve called the realty office and spoke with our contact there, and they proceeded to try and reach the owner, to ask if it was ok. Unsurprisingly, the owner wasn't able to be reached. The realty office closed at 2:30pm, and was closed all weekend. The shelter would only hold the dog for 24 hours. So we left, dogless.

On Saturday, just for fun, I decided to look at dogs on Craigslist. I happened across a 3 year-old female golden retriever/lab mix. I had a golden retriever when I was in college and I've always wanted another one. But instead I got a stupid beagle.

A lot of people "giving away" dogs on Craigslist ask for a "small" re-homing fee, ranging anywhere from $50 to $200. You see, you can't actually sell animals on Craigslist, but you can ask for a re-homing fee. The dog at the shelter was going to be a $100 adoption fee.

However, this particular family didn't want any money. They were losing their house and having to move to an apartment, and the apartment wouldn't take their dogs. They just wanted her to have a good home. Steve and Danni went to look at the dog, and they brought her home.

Enter dog #3, Nikki. I wanted a female, because I figured our two male dogs would be more accepting of a female dog, not having to fight for dominance and all that dumb boy bullshit.

She is a sweetheart of a dog. She is also HUGE. She probably weighs about 110 lbs. The vet at PetSmart said she should weigh about 80 lbs. So we've limited her to two cups of food a day (vet's recommendation) and exercise at every opportunity. She seems to be doing better already. For example, she's walking around behind me, and she's not panting and heaving like she was the first couple of days.

Isn't she pretty? Unfortunately, we agreed that this is Danni's dog. Which means that I will take care of her and fall in love with her, and then when Danni leaves us at some point in the future, she'll take her dog with her. Right now though? Apparently I'm about the same size and shape as her former "mom." So the dog doesn't really let me out of her sight.

She really is a big sweetie. She gets along great with the other dogs, and with all the neighborhood kids that are always running in and out of here. However, she brought along enough extra dog hair for five dogs. I think I need to get a Swiffer or something.

Yeah, I think she's adjusting.

The Graduate

2010-06-07T08:00:00.005-07:00

Hi! No, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth...I'm in the "show me your papers" state! Woohoo! But this isn't about politics or Arizona or their racist, ridiculous law...it's about my daughter's graduation.

We had to get her a new dress, because the girls were required to wear white underneath their white, kind of see-through gowns.

SEN10RS, Class of 2010!

Throwing their hats after the ceremony. Danni's class graduated 677 kids. It took an hour and a half to read all the names. Our last name starts with W. I think I still have "bleacher butt."

Proud sisters.

I don't normally post pictures of myself because yuck, but I have to point out that I am both smiling AND my eyes are open in this picture. Since this never, ever happens (like really, never), here's my grad with her dad and me.

Danni with her grandma and grandpa, Steve's parents.

Class of 2010 with the class of 2021. Or just a really cute little sister.

A whole new world awaits.

Teenage Brains

2010-05-20T07:37:00.002-07:00

What is it in teenage brains that enables them to completely ignore the fact that they are being ri-freaking-diculous?

Example #1 - Daughter, age 15, wears jeans and a tank top to school today. At the moment, it is 55 degrees and cloudy. The school is all inside, so she would be perfectly comfortable.

She calls me on my cell phone at 8:15am, and wants to know if I'm going to be "down there" today. "Down there" refers to down by her school, which is 3-4 miles from our house. I told her that I was planning on going to the store at some point, but I didn't know when. I assumed she was going to ask me to bring her money for lunch, which she used to do on a frequent basis. The last time, I told her that I was sick of coming down to the school to bring her money, and that if she needed money she needed to tell me the night before.

Did she want money? No. She wanted me to bring her a pair of shorts. Because when she leaves school to walk somewhere for lunch (about 11am), she will roast, because isn't it going to be like 70 degrees today?

Yes, it is going to reach maybe 72 degrees, at about 3pm. When you go to lunch at 11am? Possibly low 60s. I explain this to her. She gets mad at me because I won't drop everything and bring her a pair of shorts. This is a child who lived her entire life up until this year in a state where we lived a majority of the year in 100+ degree weather. And she's going to be hot in jeans if it's 65 degrees. What is wrong with this child's brain?

Example #2 - Same child asks me yesterday if she and her friend N can ride the lightrail downtown to the 16th Street Mall, which is a really cool stretch of outdoor mall with a free shuttle that runs up and down the middle of it. From the light rail station nearest us, it is a straight shot to 16th street. No stops, no changing trains. It's about a 30 minute ride on the light rail, and they were going to go after school today and not stay very late, maybe 7ish. They don't have school tomorrow because their high school is holding graduation at Red Rocks tomorrow, even though the rest of the kids still go until June 2nd.

I was considering it. It's not much different than me dropping them at a mall, except they'd be taking a non-stop light rail. I asked her if N texted her back about going. She said, "Yeah, but you might have to tell N's mom that you are going with us."

Ok, N was her very first friend here, from the softball team. We sat with N's parents at most games. I love N's parents. They are lovely people. Daughter spends the night at N's house often. You're telling me that N wants me, as a mother, to lie to her mother and tell her I'm going with you when I'm really not? Um, no. So it's not just my child's head in which these crazy thoughts go on.

Example #3 - Oldest daughter, 18, about to graduate from high school and come to CO to live with us and attend college. That's the plan, anyway. She doesn't want to leave AZ, and I know that, but my parents only signed on for one year of boarding her. I wouldn't even ask them to consider keeping while she starts college, and frankly, I don't think Daughter wants to continue living there either. They're nice people, but she's 18 and they're in their early 70s. 'Nuff said.

Two weeks before graduation, and I think Daughter is still trying to think of a way she can stay in AZ. I laid it out for her like this:

If you come to CO and live with us, you only have to do two things: Go to school full-time, and work part-time to pay for your gas, clothes, entertainment, etc.

If you stay in AZ, you would have to go to school full-time, work full-time, and take out a student loan to help with your living expenses. It's not that we won't help her financially, it's that at this point in time, we can't. You'd have to get an apartment with a roommate, pay half of the rent, food, utilities, cable/internet. Not to mention furnishing the place. Then you'd always have to worry about bills. If you lose your job (like they decide they don't need so many employees, it happens), you're screwed. If in the middle of the semester, you decide that working full-time and going to school full-time is just too much, you're screwed, because you're locked into a lease. On top of that, you're incurring unnecessary debt for that loan you need.

This seems like a no-brainer to me. This isn't so much ridiculous, but it's that she's thinking with her heart, and not her head. I get that. But at some point, I think she's going to have to realize that CO is going to have to be her home, at least for a little while. The ridiculous part is that she's convinced she's not going to make any friends. Between a job and school, she won't make any friends because she'll be living with us, and not in a dorm. I don't know why she thinks that, but she does.

Do you ever wish you could take what you know, and somehow inject it into their brains, to give them some perspective? I'll bet my mom wishes she could have done that to me. I guess we all just have to live and learn. Some of the lessons aren't so pleasant, but you do what you have to do.

Spring

2010-05-15T13:24:00.007-07:00

It occurred to me the other day that I could change the top picture on my blog to reflect the season. I had Kylie with a huge icicle up there for a while. You'll have to excuse me, because spring is all new to me. I've never really been through spring before. You see, in Arizona, you go from comfortable (70ish) to summer (100 degrees plus) in about three days. So this spring stuff is kind of a novelty to me.

We have a concrete slab porch outside the front door. There is a family (group? coven?) of wild cottontail rabbits that live under the porch. Thanks to my boyfriend Google, I now know that you can call a group of wild rabbits a colony, a warren or a nest. I think I like colony. At some other time, we will discuss why I am going to marry Google.

So there's a colony of wild cottontail rabbits that live under the porch. There is a hole that they've dug in the dirt where the concrete meets the earth which is their entrance/exit. For most people, that dirt would be a flower bed. Last year, in early fall, I planted some mums there. Two days later, they were killed by a freak hailstorm. All my life, I have killed plants. I have come to the conclusion that there are many things I am good at...gardening is not one of them.

Yesterday, this little guy popped out of the hole and into the should-be-a-flowerbed:

Baby bunny! How cute is that? I don't know if you can compare him to the size of the leaves and tell how small he is, but if I made a fist with one hand and then wrapped my other hand around my fist, he was about that big. And my hands aren't very big. Unlike the adult rabbits, who are oblivious to us walking around and driving our cars up the driveway, this guy was a little skittish. I had to be vewy, vewy sneaky and quiet to get his picture. The deer are out too, with some little ones. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to have my camera one day when I see some.

A few weeks ago, like the last weekend in April, we went to City Park in downtown Denver, because there's this thing here called the Cherry Tree Project, and there are parks around town where every year, they plant a few more cherry trees. I had to see this phenomenon, because I've only seen pictures of cherry trees. This is one of the bigger ones.

They are all different sizes, because they plant more every year.

I think that this is still a cherry tree, just a different strain? Its blossoms were pink, not white.

Later on that week, I noticed something interesting. I didn't need to go to City Park to see cherry trees. They are everywhere. They're in the medians on the street I drive to go to the grocery store. They're all over my neighborhood. I'm not sure why I didn't notice that before. Now, on the 15th of May, the blossoms are turning from white to green. But they sure were pretty while they lasted.

This is a group of trees in my neighborhood. This is the corner where all the jr high and high school kids wait for the bus in the morning. Except for my kid, you know, because buses are "gross." I don't know what they're doing on the street with the orange cones and yellow tape. Husband says they're putting in more streetlights, which would be nice, because those deer sometimes surprise you in the road at night. Nevertheless, it does not add to the ambiance of my picture.

The previous picture doesn't really correctly show the color of the tree. This close-up of the blossoms is more what the color actually looks like. It's really pretty. I don't know what kind of tree this is. It looks like cherry blossoms, but it's the wrong color. Husband said possibly cranberry? Is he full of shit? Does anyone know what kind of tree this is?

This tree is at the end of our street, next to Michael and Matthew's house. They are twins, also in first grade like Kylie. Except they go to a private school. Whatever. I don't even know the parents' names, I just know Michael and Matthew. Because I always hear, "Mom, I'm going down to Michael and Matthew's house!" Their backyard is way more fun than ours.

In case the color of this tree looks a little strange...I might have overdone it on the saturation. That's only because the color in the picture didn't look right. Then again, this color doesn't look right either, but at least it's cool. The actual color of this tree is red, not neon fuchsia. Red. Husband says it's a crab apple tree. Again, I have no idea if this is true.

Same tree, close-up. Again, the actual color is closer to red than this, but how gorgeous is this?

You know what's wild about Colorado in the spring? All these beautiful plants and trees bloom, and everything is so colorful and very green...and then it snows. On May 12th.

Same tree on the corner (you can tell because of the lovely yellow tape there still), with snow on the branches.

The tree next to Michael and Matthew's house, with snow. That's actually more like the real color of the tree. I can't decide if it's prettier by itself, or with its branches dusted white. I like both.

These are some poor daffodils in my backyard. I didn't plant these, someone who lived here before us did. And I guess they're...annuals? They come back every year, whether you do anything or not. Those are my kind of flowers. Two days before this picture was taken, they were standing up straight and tall in their yellowness, and they were quite beautiful. Then the snow weighed them all down, poor things. I brushed snow off them to take the picture. I'm hoping they straighten up. Or there's going to be hell to pay, missy. Did your dad ever tell you to "straighten up?" Mine did. I wouldn't recommend just visibly standing straighter, like you're in the military, when your dad says that. I'm just sayin'. It wasn't a good day for me.

The weather here today is bipolar. Sunny this morning, then a huge boom of thunder, which made me go wtf? Then it rained, now it's sunny again. More rain later, they say. However, I've learned that while the weather people say things? They really have no idea what they're talking about. If they want an easy job, they should go to Arizona. All you have to know how to say there is "Hot and sunny, high of 100+" for about eight months, then "Sunny, high in the 70s" for about 2 months. November and March are kind of a crapshoot. But nothing like a Colorado weather crapshoot. This is fun stuff.

An Ode To My Mom (A Day Late)

2010-05-10T16:01:00.002-07:00

I don't know why I didn't think of posting this yesterday. Probably because I was so busy being fed peeled grapes by my own private cabana boy.

This isn't so much an ode to my mom, because odes rhyme, don't they? It's more of a ... a statement, I suppose.

Back at the beginning of April, Shannon, Kylie and I went to Arizona for spring break. We did stuff. We went to an ASU softball game. That's my mom there at the top.

For those of you that are regular readers, you probably know that my oldest daughter is living with my parents this year.

This one, the teenager. That one to her right is a teenager too, but this isn't about her.

This is about my mother. My 73 year-old mother.

When she found out in December of 2008 that we were going to move to Colorado, she was concerned about my oldest daughter. We would be moving right before her senior year of high school. She was afraid Danni would be miserable, not being able to finish high school with her friends. She was probably right.

Husband moved to Colorado in December of 2008. The plan was that we would stay in AZ and let the girls finish the school year, and follow him after school was out. In the spring of that year, my mother made a very generous offer. She offered to let my teenager live with them for a year, so she could finish high school in AZ. After 25 years of being an empty-nester, she was willing to take on another teenager. We didn't ask. She offered.

We decided to let Danni make her own decision. She was 17, after all...and I knew if she stayed, she'd be in good hands.

She decided to stay. And she's been living with my parents this entire school year.

In three weeks, we're leaving to go to AZ for her graduation. After we spend a couple of weeks there, she'll be coming back to CO with us to go to college.

I'm still in awe of my mom, that at the age of 73, she was willing to take on a teenager.

When we were down there for spring break in April, just before Danni turned 18, she pulled me aside and said, "Shel, she's really a great kid. You did a good job."

Well Mom, since everything I learned about parenting, I learned from you...I would say it was you that did the good job.

Happy Mother's Day. I love you.

Out Of Our League

2010-05-05T14:33:00.003-07:00

When we moved to Denver, we rented a house. Husband found the house while the girls and I were still in Phoenix. At the time, we thought we needed a four-bedroom house, because we didn't know yet that Danni was staying in AZ. So he was looking at four-bedroom houses.

Since Husband grew up here, he knows the neighborhoods. And this particular area we're living in is a place that all the "rich" folks lived when he was growing up. I think he wished he lived up here when he was growing up. Now, there are bigger and better places to live, like Highlands Ranch. But this area is still pretty nice.

I'm telling you this because we totally do not belong here. I have a five-bedroom house (two of those are in the finished basement), in an amazing neighborhood where I feel like Roseanne Connor goes to Beverly Hills. You know, if Beverly Hills had mountains and trees and lush green grass, with deer and rabbits wandering around. We live in the south part of the development, which is the older part. There are newer and bigger houses the farther north you go. In fact, the neighbors on our street like to joke that we live in the "ghetto" of this area. Because we totally do.

This house we are renting, we got it for a steal. I'm still not entirely sure why, because Husband did all the paperwork before we got here, but the story I was told is that the owner of the house is on social security, and can't have over X amount of income. When I told my neighbor what we were paying in rent, she practically fell over, because I'm guessing it could have been rented for a LOT more. I think the condition of the house had something to do with the price too. It's an older house, and if someone wanted to sell it, they'd have to do quite a bit of work first. But I love it to death. I care not a whit about the scratched-up wooden doors and floor. Or the substandard job the basement finishers did. I've seen some really nice finished basements around here, and this one is just, eh. But Shannon loves having her own "apartment" down there. She's going to be sharing it with Danni soon though. Ha.

So what I'm trying to say here, is that we live in an area that we have no business living in. We are just normal middle-class (unemployed) people. Not everyone around here is rolling in money, but there are certainly those that are.

The people on my street are nice people. I get along fine with all my neighbors. There's this one family at the end of the street who have twin first-grade boys who go to a private school, and the mom is really nice, but she freaks me out a little. Have you ever met one of those people who was just happy all the time, and volunteered for everything, and talked in a gentle voice and had a smile plastered on but their eyes looked all wide like they were on something? I'm just saying. She's a nice lady, but ... yeah.

So, let's just say that sometimes at the schools, you can run into some snooty people. You know the soccer moms with the perfect hair and nails and all the jewelry and the designer jeans and the new Escalades? Yeah. I'm not one of those.

Are you wondering what my point is? Me too. Oh wait. So there are two parties that Kylie and I have been invited to. The first one is a tea party. No, not that kind. I mean the kind where they serve tea. It's on Friday at the elementary school, and it's a Mother's Day tea. The paper Kylie brought home said that I was invited to a Mother's Day tea on Friday at 2:45pm, and to bring two teacups. Teacups? Look, I don't have no stinkin' teacups. First, I don't drink tea. Second, we drink mostly out of plastic cups around here, because as I mentioned, we are the Connors.

So then I had a great idea. I'll just go to the Salvation Army store and pick up a couple of teacups. It did turn out to be a great idea, because I found these:

No, not the bananas, the cups. Aren't they cute? Guess how much I paid for them? 45 cents each. And you know what? They're probably worth like $2000 each. I know this because it says "France" on the bottom of them. The next time the Antiques Roadshow comes through town, I am totally going and taking my French teacups.

You know what else I found at the Salvation Army store for 45 cents each?

Oh yeah, baby. I wish I could take one of these to the first-grade tea party instead of a teacup. Because I may not drink tea, but I am a margarita connoisseur. Would it be completely tacky to bring one of these on Friday? Ok, yes it would. But don't you think a margarita or two would be mandatory for high tea with first-graders? I think so.

Do you like my picture background of half a cantaloupe, bananas, rabbit cards from Kylie's Easter basket and the light switch? I thought it was pretty classy myself.

Guess what else I have? When my sister-in-law was here at Christmas, she bought copious amounts of alcohol. She's fun! We didn't exactly get around to drinking ALL of it. I'm not a big drinker, and Husband isn't really either, so I've been storing the leftovers in the freezer out in the garage. I went out there today, and you know what's in there?

How perfectly does that go with my new 45 cent margarita glasses? And it's even Cinco de Mayo today. If that isn't an excuse for a margarita, I don't know what is. Salud!

I said we were invited to two parties, right? The second one is a birthday party with a "derby" theme. I'm guessing that means horses. It's girls only, they're supposed to wear their best dresses, and will leave with a hat they've made that matches their dress. The Evite said that "afternoon hors d'oeuvres and beverages will be served." Well, roll me in sugar and call me Cookie, isn't that sweet. It also says, "Great time for mom's (sic) to hang out too!"

Yeah. No. I'll drop Kylie off, but I don't even own a dress, let alone something for a derby. Depending on the weather, I wear either jeans, a shirt and my furry boots, or shorts, a shirt and sneakers. Luckily, Kylie does have one cute dress that I think would be appropriate. It's the same dress she wore for her kindergarden graduation. Good thing she doesn't grow. Well, she grows taller, so the dress is a bit shorter, but it still fits. Can you picture me sitting around with these skinny soccer moms in dresses and heels having hors d'oeuvres? Me either. One person responded to the Evite by saying "Elizabeth and I will both be there in our derby finest!" Gag.

Wait, will mint juleps be served? This might call for another trip to the Salvation Army store.

Just kidding, I'm not going. Roseanne is perfectly happy drinking margaritas in her own house, while not wearing a dress.

Tienen un bueno noche, mis amigos! Salud!

Nothing To Write About

2010-05-04T07:39:00.012-07:00

I don't write much here anymore, because I never feel like I have anything to say. And then when I do write something, it ends up being either melancholy or bitchy. I used to write funny stuff. I have proof. Over there on the sidebar is something that says "I Used To Be Funny!", that titles a list of posts in which people told me in the comments that I was funny.

Then today, Dawn reminded me that I don't always have to be funny, or exciting. Which I am not. Exciting that is. Dawn posted some links of some other people that had written some funny things, like a lady named Twisted Susan that farted in front of a lady in the grocery store. I mean, I do stuff like that ~~all the time~~ once in a while. Why don't I ever write about it?

I followed another link of Twisted Susan's called Why is it that nobody in Susan's house can..., and she listed things that no one else in her house seems to be able to do, like put away cereal or feed the dog. After wondering for a minute if Susan and I lived in the same house, I decided to make my own list. My list will be prefaced by something out of a book I read. I cannot remember the name of the book, but it was a collection of essays about parenting by some authors/comedians, and the only one I can remember right now is Dave Barry, but he didn't write this particular essay I'm going to tell you about.

The essay was called something like "A Manual for The Care of Your New Teenage Daughter," clearly aimed at parents of 12 and 13 year-old girls who are wondering what happened to their sweet little girl, and who the screaming banshee is that has taken her place. I have been there, done that twice now, and not looking forward to the third time. But there was one part of the essay that I thought was extremely funny, and it was called "Cleaning Your Teenage Daughter."

I can't remember the thing word for word, so this will be liberally paraphrased, but I think you'll get the point.

It said that teenage girls are very clean. Clean is not the same as neat. They are very clean because they shower three times a day, using expensive soaps and lotions that you must purchase for them, because like I'm sure I'm really going to use the same shampoo that my mom uses. Gross. They then wrap themselves in every available towel in the bathroom, and spend hours moisturizing, putting on make-up and straightening or curling their curly or straight hair. They will then leave the towels strewn about the house. If you expect them to pick up the towels, you are confusing clean with neat. Picking up the towels is your job.

When I read that, I laughed and laughed, and then I laughed some more. Because this is so my 15 year-old daughter. And then I smiled because I realized it wasn't just me that was living through this.

Honestly, things are better. 15 is better than 12-14. I am hoping that like my first daughter, 16 is better than 15. But in the interest of comedy, and those of you who have/have had/will have teenage daughters, I thought I'd make my own list of things that she is unable to do:

Hang up a towel
Pick any piece of clothing up off the floor and put it in a laundry basket
Put the milk away
Discuss homework without rolling her eyes
Put bobby pins in a specified container that I bought specifically for that purpose. It's way easier to just take them out of her hair and throw them on the floor.
Feed her rabbit, which I sort of feel like is my rabbit now.
Change the rabbit's litter box (although she will completely clean the hutch once in a while, but certainly not when I ask)
Turn the radio off
Turn the TV off
Turn her straightening iron off
Keep her cell phone from hitting the floor (stole that one from Twisted Susan)
Speak to a teacher about a grade or an assignment without me threatening to email said teacher
Eat anything that contains meat, which makes my life ~~a living hell~~ interesting.
Do anything that I request without saying "in a minute" or my favorite, "I WILL!" (stole that one from Susan too)
Throw away an empty shampoo/conditioner/lotion/face wash bottle
Clean up the kitchen after she cooks something
When given money to go to the mall (or anywhere), come home with more than 17 cents in her pocket

Things she is able to do:

Utter my favorite phrase in the world at least 18 times a day, which is "Oh, I forgot."
Tell her little sister to shut up at least 27 times between 4pm and 9pm
Expect me to read her mind when she's out of something. I should just know and accordingly buy more tampons when she's out, so that she will not have to utter the word "tampon" in my presence
Randomly hug me for no apparent reason
Make me laugh until I cry

She's crazy, she's silly, she's infuriating. And then, she'll do this: A walk for MS, with a sign on the back of her shirt that said, "My champion is daddy (:". She even brought a friend to walk with us, whose sign said "Shannon's dad (:"

That day, she made me smile. And she made me proud.

What The F$%& Friday

2010-04-30T18:08:00.003-07:00

Just ~~a little bit~~ embarrassed by my home state right now. What the f$%&, Arizona?

April Showers Bring May...Blizzards?

2010-04-23T11:14:00.003-07:00

Ever since I met my husband, who grew up in Colorado, he has been making that stupid remark. At least, I always thought it was stupid, but I think most things he says are stupid, so there you go.

I found out there are some parks here that have cherry blossom trees. And since I've only ever seen cherry blossom trees in pictures and never in real life, we decided to go to City Park in downtown Denver last Sunday to see the trees.

So last Sunday, five days ago, we were all:

And yesterday, it was so warm and sunny on my back patio that the dogs decided to soak it in. They laid around out there all afternoon. Maybe they knew...

That this would be the view from my bedroom window right now.

Anyway, I know it's not May quite yet, but it looks like January out there! April 23rd, and it's snowing like crazy. Spring in Colorado is wild, crazy, warm, cold, rain, thunder, lightning, tornados, and now apparently, snow. It'll be gone in two days, but I love it. I love the randomness that is this weather. It's like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.

What The F&*% Friday!

2010-04-09T15:18:00.003-07:00

I know it's been a while, but it's Friday, and I happen to have something to say.

What the f&*$ makes a 15 year-old child (freshman) who is failing not one, but TWO classes, and is dangerously close to failing a third (all core classes)...what gives her the right to be mad at ME because she has no cellphone and can't go out this weekend? What. the. F&*%??

Yes dear...it's my fault that you're failing English and science because you won't turn in your assignments. It's my fault you have a 61% in government. You missed two tests on Friday when we left early for spring break. You told me you have made them up. I emailed both teachers and found out that in fact, you have NOT made them up. I also found out that both your science teacher and your government teacher WILL, contrary to your statements, accept late work. So guess what you'll be doing this weekend? And if you don't? Well, I can keep this phone and you can not go out for just as long as you want. But don't you dare blame this on me.

Eighteen

2010-04-08T15:56:00.005-07:00

Last year, when Danni turned 17, I spent quite a bit of time going through old pictures and basically putting together a little montage of her life, which you can see here if you're interested.

Danni is my oldest child, and today, at 12:21am this morning, she became a legal adult. That sort of blows my mind.

We're not with her now, but the other two girls and I just got back from a trip to Arizona for our spring break, so we had an early birthday dinner and cake for her while we were there.

It's been a difficult year for all of us. At the beginning of the year, she didn't want to move to Colorado with us. She wanted to stay in AZ for her senior year of high school. We respected her wishes, and she is living with my parents this year in AZ.

Throughout the course of the year, some things happened that I think made her wish she would have just come with us. Mainly having to do with a boy that she was dating who turned out to be a controlling jerk. But I digress there.

It was a hard decision. Coming with us at the beginning of the year would have been difficult. It turned out that staying was difficult. It would have been bad either way, I think. However, I believe in the end, when she finishes high school here in a few weeks, she'll be glad she stayed and graduated with her class. We'll be down there in AZ again for that.

After graduation, she is coming up here to live with us and go to school. This isn't a situation she's particularly happy with. She doesn't care for the cold, and all her life she's really wanted to go to Arizona State. Unfortunately, because of the economy, finances, and a couple of classes that weren't taken, this isn't possible. She's going to go to the Community College of Denver in the fall, and possibly transfer somewhere in a year or two.

I know this isn't what she had planned, but I also know that she will make the best of it. Somehow, in spite of me, I have a really great daughter. I'm so proud of her and so proud to be her mother. And I can't wait to have her up here living with us. I have missed her terribly this year. She'll get used to the seasons, right?

Happy birthday kiddo...am I still allowed to call you that? :) I love you with all of my heart. I am so proud of the young woman you've become.

Walk For MS

2010-03-18T15:27:00.003-07:00

Several years ago, my husband was diagnosed with RRMS (Relapsing/Remitting Multiple Sclerosis). Approximately 80% of people with MS have this type, which means that their symptoms come and go. When people with RRMS have a relapse, or an episode, or whatever they choose to call it, they can experience severe headaches, severe body nerve pain, numbness in their limbs, debilitating exhaustion, and a host of other symptoms. It's different for everyone.

Because he doesn't have symptoms all the time, we can be in denial a lot. When he's not in a relapse period, we kind of pretend it doesn't exist.

After several years, we've decided to do something proactive and join Denver's Walk for MS on May 1st. Hubby really wants to do the three mile walk, even though standing or walking for long periods of time can be painful for him. I thought he'd just sign us up for the 1 mile walk, but he really wants to do the three miles. I'm proud that he's finally recognizing and accepting the disease, and trying to do something about it.

I've set a personal goal to raise $250. I started yesterday, and I already have $70. That means I just need 18 people to make a $10 donation to reach my goal. I know things are tough right now, and if you can't donate, that's fine too! Words of encouragment are just as good. However, if you can spare the $10 to donate to MS research, I'd appreciate the support. The link below should take you to my donation page.

Thanks for reading!

Click here to donate!

What The F*$& Friday...The School Edition

2010-03-12T14:30:00.006-07:00

Ok, two things today, having to do with schools:

#1. Our elementary school. And probably every other elementary school in the country. Or whoever it is that makes the decisions about which immunizations will be required.

Remember back when you were a kid, and everyone, at one time or another, got the chicken pox? The world didn't stop turning, you just itched for a few days, then got over it and went back to school.

When they first came out with the varicella vaccine, I rejected the notion because a) My two older kids had already had the chicken pox, and b) I had read that they didn't really know how long it would last, so someone could get the shot, then get the pox when they were 20, when it's actually dangerous. So I chose not to have my new baby immunized for chicken pox. '

Then when she was three, she went to preschool. When she was four, she went to pre-K. The year after that, (I think), they decided to require the damn chicken pox shot. So we went and got the stupid shot, and went on with our lives.

Just recently, the school has been sending me little email reminders that she needs a second chicken pox shot. Remember my concerns when she was first born about how they didn't know how long it would last, so like a completely neglectful mother, I chose to just let the kid get the chicken pox, instead of getting a questionable vaccine? Yeah. Well, now, of course, you need a booster. On Monday, they finally sent the letter that stated that if her immunizations weren't up to date by March 22nd, she would no longer be able to attend school until they were.

So what the f*$&, with the chicken pox shot? I hate, hate, hate it when my kids have to get shots. My oldest was a complete baby about it, but the other two? It doesn't bother them so much. But it bothers me, especially with this one which I feel is totally unnecessary.

So because I feel guilty, I promise her that after we get the shot, we can go to the store and get a DVD or a game or a toy or whatever. Wednesday I called my doctor and thought, well, while we're there, we'll just do a checkup, because we haven't done that in a while. Then Kylie can meet my totally awesome doctor whom I am completely in love with. I'd marry her, if I wasn't already married. But when I called the office, they said they didn't have that particular vaccine. What the f*$&?

Yay, so a trip yesterday to the health department, and then $30 for a new DS game, and we're all set, after I go to the office today and thrust the stinking shot record in someone's face. I swear if they make me fill out a damn form, instead of just Xeroxing the damn thing, I may kill someone. At some other time, we will discuss my loathing of filling out forms.

I know this is getting long, but my second beef with a school this week is that school down south somewhere...where is it, like Mississippi? Where they are canceling their entire prom because one girl, who is a lesbian, wanted to bring her girlfriend as her date. God bless the Bible Belt, because instead of a) showing a little tolerance and realizing this isn't a huge deal and letting people bring whoever they want to the prom, or b) somewhat less desirable, but just tell the girl no, you can't come with another girl, they decide to c) Cancel. The. Entire. Prom. For. Everyone.

Ok seriously...what the f*%&? Throughout my oldest daughter's high school career, she has gone to many dances. Sometimes she had a date, sometimes she didn't. Sometimes she went with a group of girls. Maybe they should outlaw that, since the chances are pretty high that a group of girls together could really be a lesbian orgy waiting to happen. Especially if they're all from the softball team, if you know what I mean. Wait, my daughter's on the softball team.

Anyway, I'm just seriously flabbergasted that they canceled their prom because a girl wanted to bring another girl as her date. What are they afraid of? I just don't get it. For those of you who missed the story, here ya go:

Mississippi Prom Canceled After Lesbian Date Request.

I hope the ACLU fries them. Just my opinion, of course.

Dear Universe

2010-03-07T14:19:00.002-07:00

There are so many things I want to do, and it's frustrating.

Being unemployed, and my husband being unemployed is downright frustrating. Plus, my husband is starting to drive me nuts, with his being home all the time. I've been afraid to mention that he has a really good prospect and I'm not going to talk about it because I'm afraid I might jinx it, but please...any good thoughts/prayers/sacrifical items appreciated.

I was just reading June's blog where she was talking about some time she spent in Paris when she was but a youngin' of 25.

It got me to thinking about so many things I want to do and see, and the financial thing right now just sucks. I don't even have time to dream or plan, because I am so consumed with anxiety. And that's with medication. I'd hate to think of where I'd be without that right now. Probably in the fiery pit of my own demonic craziness. I want to travel. I want to go to London, Paris, Rome, Athens, Berlin, Dublin. Norway, Finland, Switzerland. Sweden and Holland. Spain. I want to go to Japan and Austrailia and New Zealand. I want to go everywhere. Ok, maybe not the Middle East right now.

So, I have a solution. I know it's not cool to ask for these types of things, but I really think this would be a good thing.

Dear Universe:
The Powerball jackpot right now is at $170 million. Do you know what I could do with that? Do you know how many friends and family members would benefit from my windfall? My parents could pay off their mortgage and ever have to pay another bill as long as they lived, and they could travel wherever they wanted to go. Same with my in-laws.

My brother could have his new house paid off, and never have to worry about paying for their daughter to go to college.

I have some friends that would also never have to worry about how they were going to pay for their kids to go to college, or how they were going to pay their bills.

I have a vision of taking everyone close to me on a fabulous vacation.

I would donate a huge sum of money to MS research. And the Susan G. Koman foundation, two issues that are very close to my heart.

I would never again have to worry about sending my kids to college, or what they were going to do with their lives. I could stop the worrying, my God, the endless, crippling worrying.

So here's what I'm saying: I know the odds are astronomical. But...someone is going to win that jackpot at some point. And whoever wins, had the exact same astronomical odds that I have. So really...why not me? You have no idea how many people you'd be helping. Lots and lots of people. I have big plans. I just need the money. What do you say, Universe?

P.S. - I am fully aware that I spend way too much time thinking about this.

What The F*%& Friday!

2010-03-05T09:40:00.003-07:00

Welcome, Dear Readers, to the inaugural installment of What The F*$& Friday, which may or may not become a regular feature.

When I talked about this last Saturday, all four comments I had said they couldn't wait for What The F*$& Friday. This, my friends, is a lot of pressure. I've been fretting all week (do people still say fretting? That sounds like something my grammy would have said) about what to write. I had a million ideas and none at the same time. Some of them were funny, some not. Congress, healthcare, my teenager, dog poo sinking under the snow, being unemployed, Facebook weirdness, and my husband's inability to hit the laundry basket. I actually took a picture of that one. My husband's boxers, and one sock on the floor next to the basket, with the other sock draped halfway over the rim. However, it was a crappy picture (cell phone, bad closet lighting), and I figured that this wouldn't be news to anyone who has ever had a husband or a child. Or a live-in boyfriend.

Today I'm going to talk about the trials and tribulations of my oldest daughter, who is 17 years and 11 months old. This will be important later. She's having a rough month. On President's day, she was in a car accident. She was driving herself and two softball teammates to a movie after practice, when some dumbass 17 year-old girl with no driver's license turned left right in front of her, totaling her car. Luckily, her two passengers were unharmed (and all wearing seatbelts, yay!). My daughter was fine at first, but she woke up the next day with severe neck pain, and was diagnosed with a cervical sprain, which we used to call whiplash. She is fine now. However, the last few weeks have been a complete clusterf*$& with the other driver's grandfather's insurance company. It was her grandfather's car. The grandfather told the insurance company that the girl took the car without permission, and therefore he was denying any liability. Excuse me, what the f*$&? I didn't realize that when your underage, unlicensed granddaughter takes your car for a little joyride and causes an accident that was 100% her fault, that you had the choice to deny liability. Sorry Grandpa. Your car, your insurance policy, your granddaughter, your responsibility. Thankfully, that's exactly the way it turned out. Now we're just negotiating the amount that a company that rhymes with Biberty Lutual is going to be paying us for the car. Our insurance company rocks. We only had liability on daughter's car, but they went to bat for us with Biberty Lutual and we'll be getting enough money to get her another car.

My other beef happened just yesterday. Not only was my poor daughter in a car accident, but she has been stricken with not one, but two cases of tonsillitis. She has never had tonsillitis before in her life. My mother (her temporary legal guardian) took her to the urgent care the first time. They tested for strep, negative. They tested for mono (which she had last year), negative. Gave her antibiotics and sent her home. They worked great, she finished them, and she was fine for about three days. Then on Wednesday, her throat started hurting again. By yesterday after school and softball practice, she was in a lot of pain again. She tried to reach my parents, but they didn't answer their cells. This happens, as they are old and if they're in a noisy place (like an ASU softball game), they won't hear the phones.

So, my daughter, being 17 years and 11 months old, drove herself to the urgent care. They refused to treat her because she is a minor. Now here's my issue: Did you know that my daughter, who is 17 years and 11 months old, can go to the doctor or a clinic and discuss birth control, pap smears, abortions, or anything gynecological in nature by herself without a parent or guardian? But if she has a swollen, red throat, which is almost certainly a recurrence of tonsillitis, she has to have her grandmother with her or they won't treat her? What. The. F*$&?

As a result, she had to go home, wait until my parents got home (after the urgent care was closed) and go to the emergency room where they spent the entire. night. They got there around 8:30pm and didn't get home until after 4am. Seriously. What. The. F*$&.

On the bright side, she will be here for a spring break visit next Friday, then after graduation she is coming here to live with us! I feel a little badly that my 73 year-old mother had to spend all night in an ER waiting room. I can't wait to have my daughter back with us, where she belongs.

I hope you all enjoyed What The F*$& Friday!

New Feature

2010-02-27T11:39:00.007-07:00

So, after reading Dawn's post entitled "What the Hell? Wednesday!", I came up with this great idea. Ok, so it's Dawn's idea, and I just changed the day.

Yesterday I was going to write a post called "What The F&*$ Friday!" You see, my plan was that every Friday, I'll go through the news and find something totally ridiculous (because really, how hard can that be?), and write a post about it. Please don't tell me six million bloggers already have this feature on their blogs on Fridays. It'll just depress me.

So I set out to write this post yesterday, and I'm pretty sure it had to do with that whiny Russian ice skater that won the silver medal (or, in his world, platinum), but then I got distracted. My crops were about to die so I had to harvest them, plow and replant, milk the damn cows and gather the damn eggs, and then I had to comment on some friends' statuses (stati?) and upload some pictures and drive someone somewhere and move the laundry from the washer to the dryer and unload the dishwasher and yell at the dog for the bazillionth time to get the hell off my bed and check my email and pick someone up from school and get the laundry out of the dryer and fold it and put it away, and then write to the Guiness Book of World Records and tell them that I am applying to be the person with the longest run-on sentence ever, and who the hell can remember what they were going to write after all that?

Stay tuned next week for the inaugaral installment of "What the F&*$ Friday!" Maybe.

In the meantime, here are some pictures. On Thursday it snowed all afternoon and into the night, and Friday we woke up to one of my favorite kinds of days. Bright blue sky, not a cloud in sight, and snow-covered everything. When the sun's out, the snow sparkles and it's just gorgeous and I cannot get over it. I went up to Red Rocks early to try and get some pictures of the snow on the rocks before the temp could get up to our high of near 50 yesterday and melt it all.

This is a tree across the street from me that has nothing to do with Red Rocks. But I just think it's so beautiful with all the snow on it.

This is on the road that leads up to Red Rocks Amphitheatre, which is a pretty famous place for concerts. There is a visitor's center and museum up at the top, and it's really cool. On the walls, they have a list of everyone who has ever played there, going back to the 1920's. Of course, in the 1920's there were only two or three people each year, and they were playing a harmonica and a metal tub, but still. Did you know that for the past 10 or 15 years, Blues Traveler has played there every 4th of July?

Another picture on the way up. Or maybe on the way back down. I get confused easily.

The history of this place is so neat. Did you know that when the Beatles played here in the 60s (I forget what year), the price of a ticket was $6.60? That's the stage way down there, and I'm standing at the top railing. I've never been to a concert here, but I'd love to go to one. Maybe this summer. You'd be able to see all the benches where people sit, if they weren't covered with snow.

I'm going to miss the snow when it's gone. I hope the summer is short. Yes, I know I'm crazy.

Dichotomy

2010-02-25T08:42:00.003-07:00

My baby.

This kid, with two teenage sisters, is sort of stuck between childhood and teenage-hood. I found her last night talking to her friend Courtney on the phone while sitting on her bed, which is draped with her favorite monkey blanket.

The pose reminded me so much of the older girls, but upon closer inspection? She was reading a book to her friend over the phone. The name of the book? "Kitty's Special Job."

She is torn between wanting a cell phone (um, no...not for several years) and loving her stuffed animals. Between playing with her Legos, and wanting to hang out with her 15 year-old sister and her friends (which her sister does not care for).

She puts her plastic pet dinosaur to bed every night in a special purple box next to her bed. She loves me. She tells me every day. She still wants to hold my hand when we're walking together. And she wants to be grown up, so very very much.

Every day, I make her promise that she's still going to love me when she's 13. And every day, she says "Of course I will, Mommy!"

One day, I'm going to get that on video, for evidence.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-02-22T08:45:00.003-07:00

Ok, so it's not Wednesday and it's not wordless. I'm a rebel like that.

It is wordless in that I don't even know what to say about this picture, except that it cracks me up.

Valentine's Day, Blah Blah Blah

2010-02-13T09:54:00.002-07:00

From Wikipedia:

"St. Valentine's Day (commonly shortened to Valentine's Day) is an annual holiday celebrated on February 14th celebrating love and affection between intimate companions. The holiday is named after one or more early Christian martyrs named Valentine and was established by Pope Gelasius I in 496 AD. It is traditionally a day on which lovers express their love for each other by presenting flowers, offering confectionery, and sending greeting cards (known as "valentines"). The holiday first became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffery Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished.

Modern Valentine's Day symbols included the heart-shaped outline, doves, and the figure of the winged Cupid. Since the 19th century, handwritten valentines have largely given way to mass-produced greeting cards."

Well, that totally blows my theory that Valentine's Day was completely made up by Hallmark, 1 800 Flowers, and See's Candies. Although that last line about the mass-produced greeting cards confirms that Hallmark is to blame for blowing this "holiday" up into the ridiculousness that it has become.

Tell me, why does every retail store always have to have a holiday section that always has to have holiday stuff? Because honestly, I am not thinking about Valentine's day on the day after Christmas, but Target sure as hell is. On Monday, we will be bombarded with Easter paraphernalia, like stuffed rabbits nailed to crosses and plastic eggs hidden on a rendering of Mount Calvary. What? Ok, I know that was sacrilegious, but I've never really understood the whole bunny/egg thing. I suppose Wikipedia could explain that to me too, but honestly I'm just not that interested. Maybe if it was a really large chicken bringing the eggs, that would make more sense. And for God's sake, does a seven year-old child still believe that a large rabbit is coming to our house and leaving her a basket filled with stuff? Well yes, she does. Let me tell you, after 17 years of children, I am so over this Easter basket thing.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, Valentine's Day. It's stupid. I do not want my husband to get me some flowers that are going to die in two days, because that seems to me to be a huge waste of money. Now you can tell me that with proper care, they can live for up to two weeks or some such thing, but have you met me? Possibly you didn't hear about the Great Mum Incident of September, 2009. I can't really talk about it yet, but suffice it to say, it wasn't pretty.

I also don't want chocolates. Well ok, I do want chocolates, but I certainly don't need them, if you know what I mean. I suppose if we had some "extra money" (and I put "extra money" in quotes, because honestly I think that's a joke someone made up that doesn't really exist) I would like a trip to Bath and Body Works, because I love me some pretty-smelling lotion. And I don't mean pretty like flowers or freesia or lavender, but like warm vanilla sugar, coconut, or apple cinnamon. Yes, I like to smell like pies and cookies. Did you notice that whenever you find a scent you really like at that store, they discontinue it? They used to have this lotion, I think it was Almond Hazelnut or Hazelnut Almond or something, and I totally loved it, and they stopped making it. Same with Fresh Pineapple. I think they check to see what I buy, then they discontinue it.

You know what Valentine's Day makes me? Depressed. And not because of the present, but I remember high school, when it was so dang important to have a boyfriend and I didn't. Never had a boyfriend in high school. Pathetic, right? So every year, some stupid club on campus would sell roses that would be delivered to your sweetheart on Valentine's Day, usually by the choir, and they would all gather around the girl and sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", or some stupid thing. And I never once got a rose in four years. Even in college it was a big deal, and all these twits were running around with their little gifts that their boyfriends had given them, and they were so in love, and blah blah puke.

Even in elementary school, for Pete's sake. Remember way back, when they didn't send a note home saying that if you give out valentines, you have to give one to everyone in the class, and they send a class list with everyone's name on it stapled to the note so you don't forget anyone? Honestly, it would never occur to me to say to my seven year-old daughter, "Ok honey, tell me which kids in your class you like or are popular, and we'll only give valentines to them." But back in the 70s, it seems that's exactly what happened. And the prettiest little girl in the class got 342 valentines, even though there were only 28 kids in the class.

Now that I write all this out, I think I'm starting to see why maybe I don't like Valentine's Day. But by mutual agreement, I don't get my husband anything and he doesn't get me anything. We just don't. We usually blame that whole "extra money" illusion, but the truth is we're just not into it. I will run out today and get something for the girls, just because I always have. Unfortunately, the girl that needs right now to hear the most that we love her isn't here. But just in case she is reading this... Danni, I love you so much, and I'll have something for you when you get here next month. And I'll probably have gotten it at 75% off. That's ok, right? ;)

How about if we go back to the days of Geoffrey Chaucer and the handwritten valentines? Wouldn't that be cute? I just hate overcommericalizing (Is that a word? According to Blogger, it's not. And they have no suggestions.) every stinking holiday, just so stores can fill up that "seasonal" space they have. The only holiday I don't begrudge them is that "Back to School" holiday. That stuff comes out as soon as the 4th of July is over. And it's not a moment too soon.

Wut?

2010-02-02T08:56:00.002-07:00

Happy Groundhog Day!

I'm not much of a sentimentalist when it comes to my kids' schoolwork. I can't think of anything from their younger years that I saved. Especially now that we're on kid #3 in elementary school.

But last year, when Kylie was in kindergarten, she brought this guy home on Groundhog Day:

I have to tell you, we all laughed ourselves silly at this groundhog peeking out of his little paper bag hole, saying "Wut?" I guess that was Kylie's kindergarten spelling of "what?", but the spelling just made it all that much funnier. Say it like a stoner. "Wut?"

This guy made the move to Denver with us and was still in Kylie's bedroom. I remembered him this morning. I guess I didn't keep it so much for sentimental value, as I did for entertainment value. We all looked at each other this morning and said, "Wut?" It's nice to start the day with a giggle.

Grocery Store Hell

2010-02-01T11:47:00.003-07:00

Don't you all just love grocery shopping? I know I do. NOT.

There are several reasons for this.

First of all, about 4 years ago, a friend of mine introduced me to The Grocery Game. Things were tight, money-wise and I wanted to learn about shopping with coupons. Wait, things are still tight, money-wise. In fact, they've never not been. Aren't we supposed to grow out of this phase eventually? Sigh.

Anyway, I use The Grocery Game website, and I'm a couponer and a stockpiler. For example, I just bought three bottles of mustard because they were free with my coupons. So when I run out of the mustard that's in the fridge, I just go to the cupboard and get another one. One thing I like about stockpile shopping is that I rarely run out of anything. Usually, there's another one in the cupboard, somewhere.

You know what else is cool? I have a very unorganized next-door neighbor. She frequently borrows things from me. Last week, she made her daughter a hamburger for school lunch two days in a row, but she didn't have any ketchup. She borrowed maybe a 1/4 cup of ketchup from me over those two days. And it wasn't good ketchup either, it was just Hunt's. What I got back from her? Was a huge 40 oz bottle of Heinz ketchup. This wasn't the only incident either. When she borrowed a banana, I got back an entire bunch of organic bananas. A couple of days after she borrowed two eggs? She gave me back two eggs. But they were Eggland's Best, not the store brand that I loaned her. See how stockpiling can be profitable? Hey Erin, need to borrow anything today? I just got back from the store.

Couponing has become a burden also. Because I can't stop doing it. It's a pain, it's time-consuming, and I absolutely cannot bear to pay full price for anything.

My second, third and fourth problems with grocery shopping lie with my family. Let me introduce you to my arch enemies:

Culprit #1, aka "Miss I Don't Like It!"

This kid doesn't like anything. Dinner? Unless it's spaghetti, a cheese quesadilla or macaroni and cheese (the kind from a box), she doesn't like it. Except for turkey. At Thanksgiving, she had three huge pieces of plain white meat. No gravy, nothing. No one can explain this.

I've always had a "one bite" policy. You have to try everything. If you don't like it, then don't eat it, but you have to try it. Getting this kid to try just one bite of something is ... well, you'd think we were making her eat dog crap. There are so many things I think she'd like if she would just try, but she won't. And because she's already in the zero percentile on the weight chart, I can't just let her not eat. So I keep plenty of tortillas and shredded cheese around so I can make a quick quesadilla. Her school lunches? Gah. She used to eat peanut butter sandwiches, but now she won't. I'm standing there every morning saying, "What can I put in here that you will actually eat?" I never get an answer to this question.

Culprit #2, aka "The Vegetarian"

Here we have someone who will not eat meat. None. Her issue is with animal treatment, because some brilliant friend of hers told her to watch some videos on YouTube about how cows are slaughtered, how chickens are caged on top of each other, etc. She says that eating meat would be exactly like eating one of our dogs. Yeah. One time I said, "What if I buy free-range chicken? They're out roaming free! Not piled on top of each other in cages! Will you eat that?"

No.

I wouldn't have a problem with this dietary choice, except I use the term "vegetarian" very loosely, seeing as she won't eat vegetables. My husband likes to call her a "crapatarain", because she only eats crap. I think the proper term would probably be "carbatarian." She likes Hormel's vegetarian chili, so I buy that. She likes the spicy black bean burgers from Morningstar Farms, so I buy those, even though they are ridiculously expensive. She eats an occasional apple, but that's about it as far as fruits or vegetables. I told her to do some research, and find alternative sources of protein, other than meat. You know, peanut butter, cheese, eggs (which she doesn't like), beans, yogurt, etc. She doesn't make any effort to incorporate any of these things into her diet. And she's always complaining that there's "nothing to eat" in the house. So every Monday before she goes to school I say, "I'm going to the store today. What do you want me to get?" And without fail, the answer is, "I dunno."

I have tried, people. I'll make spaghetti and separate some sauce for her before I add meat or sausage. She'll find an excuse not to be hungry. I made an awesome bean and vegetable soup one time. She didn't even try it. I ate it. I made a roasted tomato and bean soup which was again, awesome. Did she try it? Of course not. If I make bean and cheese chimichangas, she won't be hungry. Probably because she's spent the time between getting home from school and dinner snacking. On food we don't have, because clearly there's nothing to eat in this house.

Culprit #3, aka "I Am Not A Rabbit"

Will not eat anything green. Will. Not. Unless it's plain iceberg lettuce with ranch dressing, and even that's iffy. I have to stop and snort right here, because while he calls Shannon a crapatarian? His diet is no better. He would live on Hot Pockets, kielbasa, and chopped ham if he could. And Red Baron singles. He doesn't even like potatoes, unless they're au gratin. In other words, smothered in cheese. Baked potato? Possibly, but it's got to be loaded with cheese, bacon bits, butter and sour cream. Steak must be liberally drenched in ranch dressing. Pizza and chicken wings.

These three people are the bane of my grocery shopping existence. I will eat almost anything, as long as it's not mushrooms, olives, or cabbage. Or seafood. But I love vegetables, sweet potatoes, whole grain bread, walnuts, and a host of other things that are good for you.

Tonight, I'll grill a couple of steaks. Kylie will complain and end up having a quesadilla. Shannon will eat...whatever she eats. Probably a can of vegetarian chili. I will make roasted green beans that are tossed in olive oil, with kosher salt and a lot of pepper. I will be the only one that eats them. Oh, and italian squash cooked the same way. Yum. Perhaps a side dish of parmesan noodles, which husband will eat, Shannon might eat, and I will not eat, because I'll be full of steak and my delicious roasted vegetables.

Now here's the real kicker: Why is everyone in this family skinny except me?

January 28th, 1986

2010-01-28T09:01:00.014-07:00

Can you believe it's been 24 years? I'll bet I could ask a lot of you, and you'd remember right where you were when you heard.

I remember where I was, and I always remember this date, and it has nothing to do with the space shuttle. It has to do with a young, stupid college girl. Me.

I was just starting my second semester of my freshman year in college. I had a brand new roommate, because my first semester roommate had died. Over Thanksgiving, she was riding in the back of a pickup truck in the dry riverbed, and was thrown out. She was in a coma for a week and then she died. We weren't close, but it was still rather unsettling. Oh, and have you ever heard that rumor that if your roommate dies, you get straight As for the semester? Totally not true.

Anyway, my new roommate's name was Micki. She was older than I was, 22. She was originally from Ohio, but had recently lived in Marina del Rey with her wealthy father. She looked like your typical California girl, blond and beautiful. I hated her on sight, and had a sick feeling in my stomach. I knew this was not going to go well.

This happened to be one of the few times in my life that my first impression of someone was really, really wrong. She was the nicest, sweetest girl I had ever met. She didn't have a mean or stuck-up bone in her entire body. She let me wear her Benetton shirt. She and I would go to the local dive and have a few pitchers of beer. I loved having a roommate that was legal to buy alcohol. On top of that, she was totally awesome.

The only thing that wasn't awesome about her was her taste in guys. She was dating this guy named David, who was 30 and divorced. When you're 18, 30 is really old. I don't think he treated her very well. He was controlling and verbally abusive. I cannot for the life of me figure out why she put up with him. But for all her sweetness and beauty, Micki had no self-esteem. And I have no idea why. I'm sure it started long before I met her.

Anyway, she and David had a friend named Tommy. Actually, he was David's friend, probably around the same age, 30ish. Tommy was going to come over to the dorm and visit one night. The date was January 27th, 1986. While we were sitting around waiting for him to get there, David called Micki, angry. I don't know why he was angry, but he wanted her to go outside and meet him in the parking lot in five minutes.

Of course, he said jump and she jumped. She grabbed her purse and ran out the door, asking me to please entertain Tommy until she got back. She wouldn't be gone long, she promised.

It wasn't long before the phone rang. You see, back in the day, if you were going to have a male visitor, they had to call from downstairs and you had to go downstairs and escort them up. Unescorted males were not allowed past the lobby. It sounds like the 50s, but really it was 1986. I know there are co-ed dorms and floors and maybe even rooms now, but that's the way it was in my dorm.

So I went downstairs, and there was this guy standing there. He looked really old to me, but then again, everyone looks old when you're 18. In reality, he was 32. 10 years younger than I am right now.

I introduced myself and explained what happened with Micki and David, and said that Micki would be back soon. I asked him if he wanted to come up to the room anyway, and he said sure.

We got to the room and chatted a bit. After about five minutes, we were smiling uncomfortably at each other, the smiles of two strangers who have run out of small talk. Then I had a brilliant idea to make this a lot more fun. Let's go get a bottle of something, I said. I can even buy it. There's this liquor store down the street that doesn't card anyone.

He didn't believe me, because I looked even younger than I was, so I was on a mission to prove I could. We got in his car and went to the liquor store. We went inside, where I grabbed a fifth of vodka and a jug of orange juice. The cashier didn't even blink an eye. I paid for it, and we were on our way back to the dorm.

When we got back, Micki still wasn't there. I made us both a drink. We talked. He was nice. I would have loved to have called Micki and ask her where the hell she was, but you know, 1986. No cell phones. I think I did try David's house, but of course, there was no answer.

We had another drink, and another, and another. We may have finished the bottle, I really don't remember. I'm not going to go into the details about what happened after that, but I'm sure you can guess. One of the many, many stupid things I did in college.

At some point, Micki did return, and I was lying on my bed. Possibly not alone. Micki stuck her head around the wall, saw the scene, and ran back out the door. I could hear her laughing all the way down the hall. I think. Maybe I imagined that part, or maybe she just thought that what had happened while she was gone was pretty dang funny. Maybe it was. She wasn't being mean...now that I think about it, she was probably drunk too. She drank a lot.

Tommy left at some point. I think I spent some time in the bathroom after that, the vodka and I having a disagreement. I have no idea what time I passed out.

The next morning, the phone rang at 7am. Our phone was really loud, and for some reason, it was on the floor next to my bed. I thought my head was going to explode. I put my pillow over my head to try and drown out the noise.

Micki answered the phone. It was Tommy. He said he had left his wallet in our dorm room. I guess she found it and met him outside to give it to him, I don't know. All I know is that I felt like my head was lying on a rock, and I went back to sleep. I had no plans to attend any of my classes that day. But I had set my alarm for 2pm. Why? Because at the time, I was still a General Hospital addict. I couldn't get up to go to class, but I wanted to watch my soap on my little 13" black and white TV.

The alarm went off at 2pm. I still felt like I was going to die. I carefully got out of bed, turned on the TV, and got back in bed. I tried to lie in the least painful position to watch the TV. There wasn't really a non-painful position at that point. My head was pounding like nothing I had ever felt, and I knew I was going to puke any minute.

As I looked at the television, I couldn't understand what I was seeing. It wasn't General Hospital. It was a picture of a huge streak of clouds in the sky. No, that wasn't it. It was breaking news. Something was wrong. I finally pieced together that the space shuttle Challenger had exploded not long after it had launched, some 5 or 6 hours before.

I always remember this day, and I remember the Challenger. But even more, I remember that day as the day of the worst hangover I have ever had in my life. I've never had another one that was that bad. And I always remember two girls. One beautiful and sweet, who stayed with an abusive boyfriend because she thought she couldn't do any better. To this day I wonder what happened to her. Strangely, I can remember David's last name, but I can't remember her's.

And I remember another girl, one who was so desperate for male attention that she did a lot of really stupid, stupid things.

Most times, I think I've forgiven that second girl for her idiocy. But on this day, I always remember her, and I feel guilty all over again. About things that happened 24 years ago.

"You did then what you knew how to do. And when you knew better, you did better." - Maya Angelou

Leavin' On A Jet Plane

2010-01-27T09:00:00.003-07:00

My daughter posted this picture as her profile pic on Facebook yesterday. I saw it and I couldn't get over how...grown up she is. And dare I say (though I may be a bit biased), how beautiful she is. Lucky kid, she got her looks from her dad and her brains from me. Except for the freckles, those are mine. Sorry 'bout that, kiddo.

Today she is traveling with my mother to North Carolina. My brother and sister-in-law are taking a trip to Las Vegas, sans their 4 year-old. My mother and daughter are flying out there to babysit my niece for a week.

I don't really understand why they couldn't just drop my niece in Phoenix on their way to Vegas. That seems like far less hassle, not to mention much cheaper. But when I asked, my brother said they couldn't get the flights to work out, blah blah whatever. I didn't understand it, but in any case, Danni and my mom are at this moment, on their way to the east coast.

Danni had mixed feelings about going. Last semester, she didn't have any absences, and therefore was not required to take any finals. She liked that a lot. Now she's going to miss five days of school and will have to take her TWO finals. Yeah, two. She only has four classes, and two of them are dance and softball. So she'll have to take her English and economics finals. Plus, she's going to miss a week of softball right before tryouts. Seeing as she's a senior and she played varsity last year, I can't imagine her not making the team, so I'm not sure that's an issue.

She's been going through some personal stuff lately, regarding a boyfriend/ex-boyfriend, so I think it will be good for her to get away. I also told her she gets to visit a state she's never been to before, which is always fun. We've never even been anywhere near the southeast part of the United States, and I hear NC is beautiful. I'm jealous too...I want to leave for a week. I've never been to NC either.

I really hope this trip lets her get away, get her thoughts and feelings sorted out, and just relax for a while. This parenting from 800 miles away is hard, y'all.

So Much For Project 365

2010-01-26T12:16:00.003-07:00

Yep, I blew it. No post yesterday.

24 consecutive days, that's a record for me, anyway. But what I've discovered is that it's difficult for me to come up with something clever, witty or thought-provoking every day. Some people can do it, like June or Jenn. Maybe your name has to start with a J. But I can't do it.

So let's assume that my posts will be less frequent, but hopefully, more entertaining.

Remember the paper mache mess on my floor at the bottom of the last post? It was supposed to be a map of a made-up country for government class. This is what the map ended up looking like. Apparently, their country is an island, with a large city next to a volcano. And a dinosaur. I really hope that their flag and their constitution look better than this. I'm just sayin'.

Football Is Almost Over And I'm Sad About It

2010-01-24T21:16:00.003-07:00

Just wanted to say hi to anyone who might have popped over here from Manic Mommy's blog. Thanks for the shout-out, Steph! And just for the record, I am determined to donate next year!

For anyone new here, on January 1st, I said I was going to start a Project 365. That has worked out so far, in as much as I have posted every day. However, I think the point of a Project 365 is to take a single picture every day and create a post around that picture. In that context, I have not been too successful. I decided to try this to get back into writing, because before Jan. 1st, my posts were few and far between. I won't delve too much into the reasons for that, but we're dealing with unemployment and money stuff around here, and I just wasn't feeling that funny. And I like to make people laugh. I try to, anyway.

I don't know how funny my last 23 posts have been, but if you look over there to the right on the sidebar, you'll see some of my favorite posts that actually were funny.

Today I spent a good deal of the day on my butt watching football. I am a football fanatic. I love the AFC and NFC championship games, and I love the Superbowl. This time of year is awesome and sad. Sad because football is almost over and I have to wait 6 months until training camp starts. Then we are inundated with college basketball, and then in April, baseball. YAWN.

These two? Not so much big football fans. This is what happens when the kids decide to play with your camera. The younger one was supposed to be doing her homework, and the older one? Is just an antagonist. Seriously.

Go Saints!

The older child is doing some sort of project for government class. The project is done with a partner. They are supposed to create their own country, complete with flag, constitution, topographical map, etc. That large rectangle is apparently going to be the map. I don't know, but it looks like a big mess to me. It's still there. I keep asking her when she's going to clean it up. She says after she finishes her speech that's due tomorrow. Who wants to bet me ten bucks that it will still look like that in the morning?

Hangin' With The Girls

2010-01-23T21:25:00.006-07:00

Last night, I had a gaggle of teenage girls at my house. Five, including Shannon. She talked me into letting them all spend the night.

At first, I was begging my Facebook friends to send reinforcements, but you know what? It was totally fine. They mostly stayed in the basement, coming up only for snacks at night, then for breakfast in the morning. At noonish they were still all here, so we ordered some pizza.

At about 5pm, three of them had been here all day, and the other two had left and come back. They wanted to go to the mall. But they wanted to go to a mall that I had never been to before, and one that's a little farther from my house than the two they normally frequent.

Since hubby wasn't home, I had to drag poor Kylie around with us. The mall was sufficiently far enough away from my house that I decided it would be a waste of time and gas to drop them off, go home, then go back and pick them up two hours later.

So Kylie and I went off on our own at the mall. This place is like no mall I've ever been to. It's called Park Meadows Mall, and it's like, the upscale version of a mall.

The theme inside is very lodge/cabin-like, with wood and stones everywhere. There are tons of couches and tables and places to gather. Lots of high-end stores that I can't afford, which at least stopped me from spending money. Except at Mrs. Field's, where Kylie had to have a cookie.

One corner of the mall had a place that kids could play. It wasn't a run around-type play area, but it had a big Lego table and some other hands-on stuff. The great part was it also had a lot of big overstuffed chairs around the perimeter, perfect for reading the paperback in your purse while the kid is playing. This Lego statue of a lion was pretty dang cool.

On the lower level in the middle of the mall is this fountain. It's gorgeous. I wish now that I had backed up and taken a picture of the whole thing. There are colorful flowers all around, the waterfall, rocks and again...lots of places around it to just sit and relax.

This was my favorite thing in the mall. In the food court, near the outside entrance, is this HUGE fireplace. It's open on both sides. On the other side from where Kylie is sitting, there are couches and chairs and even a coffee table. There is a large hearth all the way around it, where people sit and eat. I just happened to catch a time where some people had just gotten up, and I told Kylie to sit down quick so I could get a picture.

Kylie and I spent the rest of our time in Borders, in the kids' section. She looked at books and played with toys, and I read my book. Shannon and her friends were ready to go after about two hours. Then I took the whole lot of them to another girl's house, where they are spending the night tonight.

I like Shannon's friends a lot. They are fun and silly, and they actually all thanked me profusely for driving them all over creation tonight, and told me how much they appreciated it. Which prompted my daughter to say, "Oh Mom, I appreciate you so much!" Maybe one day she'll say it without being prompted by friends. *smile smile* It's also fun to be in the car with them. They seem to forget that someone's mom is driving, and you learn so much just by listening.

Tonight, at my house? Peace and quiet. At least until Kylie wakes up in the morning.

The Days When Nothing Happens

2010-01-22T13:31:00.006-07:00

This morning I called my best friend Jen to see if she was still alive. From the news reports I've been seeing, you'd think that all of Arizona was underwater. Jen is originally from Minnesota, and even though she's been in Arizona since she was 16, she still thinks that all the news coverage any sort of weather gets in AZ is hilarious. It is sort of hiliarious, actually. Any rain at all is a huge news event, but when I looked at a home page from one of the local news stations in AZ this morning? They were referring to what is happening in Flagstaff as a "snowpocalypse." Ok, they've gotten five feet of snow with a couple more on the way. The town will shut down for a while, sure. But I'm reluctant to think that the end times are upon us just because Arizona is receiving their yearly rain/snowfall for the entire year in one week. Because people? It's a desert. They only get 5-7 inches of rain during a year.

After we discussed the weather, we talked about our kids. She has two teenage boys, one sixth grade boy, and an adorable 4 year-old daughter. Since we are both stay-at-home moms right now, we talked about sitting around in our pajamas until noon, which, what can I say? It happens. Especially when your best friend calls and you end up talking for two hours.

Here's the thing with me. I get up at 6:30 every morning to drive the teenager to school. I pull on my boots and a jacket, and get on the computer until she arises from her dungeon (the basement) around 6:50 and tells me she's ready to go. You're probably wondering why she doesn't take the bus. I asked her. She said buses are "gross." I could say to her, "Look, you're taking the bus whether you like it or not." Then she would invariably miss the bus, and I'd have to drive her anyway. Making her walk if she misses the bus is not an option, because of the distance, and this time of year, the weather. Let's just say it's a battle I've chosen not to fight. My older two kids went to a charter school for elementary school, and I had to drive them every day. I'm used to it.

So I'm home around 7:15, and the 1st grader doesn't get up until 8am, because they don't start until 9:05. If I were smart (and that's a BIG if), I would use that 45 minutes to shower and get dressed. If I am showered and dressed by the time the little one gets up, my day is much more productive.

However, what I normally do between 7:15 and 8:00? Email. Facebook. Read blogs.

Kylie gets up at 8. I make her breakfast, pack her lunch. She gets dressed, does her hair with a little help from me, brushes her teeth, and then can do whatever she wants until her friends get here around 8:45. At 8:55, I send them packing out the door, as the school is practically right behind our house.

Talking to Jen, both of us felt like we had accomplished nothing today. So I thought, hey...I'll make a list of what I've actually done today, and see if it's worth anything.

1. So first, as I've already mentioned...successfully gotten two children to school.
2. Unloaded dishwasher
3. Put breakfast dishes in dishwasher.
4. Went down to basement, started a load of laundry.
5. Noticed the basement was a mess (as usual) and decided to clean it up. This is supposed to be the teenager's responsibility because it's her room(s), but honestly? Once in a while I just get so sick of looking at it, I clean it. I'm guilty. You probably are too.
6. Fed teenager's rabbit.
7. Back to main floor, pick up a bunch of Kylie's stuff and take it up to her room.
8. Made my bed.
9. Sat on my bed in front of my laptop for two hours while talking to Jen on the phone.

While on the phone:
1. Played Scrabble on Facebook with husband
2. Told Jen about Scrabble on Facebook, started game with her.
3. Harvested an entire farm of grapes. ( I know!)

4. Plowed entire farm.
5. Replanted entire farm
6. Fed and brushed various animals

7. Watered all my flowers on Farmtown. (Not to be confused with FarmVILLE, above.)
Yes, I know I need help.
8. Wondered why husband wants to keep playing Scrabble with me, when I keep kicking his ass.
9. Sent email to my mother, thanking her for sending us a big box of my brother's 30 year-old Legos for Kylie to play with. Hey, she loves them and those things are expensive!
10. Finally got off the phone.
11. Went down to basement again, put laundry in the dryer, and paid some attention to the poor rabbit.
12. Starting around noon, had the following text conversation with the teenager:

"I think you should come get me, I'm having stomach issues."
(This is the status quo for her, texting me with some ailment and wanting me to come get her.)
I give her my standard reply:
"Go to the nurse."
"She can't do anything."
"Well, then neither can I."
"Well I don't wanna be at school it hurts."
"Cramps?"
"Ya"
"Go to the nurse and get some Tylenol. If she says no, call me and I'll talk to her."
"I want to go home though."
"Just go get some Tylenol and you'll feel better."
"Mom."
"Shannon."
"I'm gonna die."
"Well, you should definitely go to the nurse then, because she's closer to you than I am."
"Mom!!!!"
"This is my last text. If I get a call from the nurse saying to come get you, I will. Otherwise, quit bugging me."

That was the last I heard from her. I'm so mean.

13. Took shower (finally)

In about 10 minutes, I have to leave and go get her, and the bitching will commence. Yay.

Things I haven't done yet, but will.

1. Pick up teenager from school.
2. Pick up 1st grader from school.
3. Make dinner that probably no one but me will eat.
4. Be taxi driver for whatever Shannon is doing tonight (Hey, it's Friday, and she will totally feel fine by then. Trust me.)
5. At some point, get laundry from the dryer and put it all away.

And here I think I didn't do anything today.

Husband has had two interviews this week, and one set up for next week. Please keep your fingers crossed!

Gratitude

2010-01-21T07:25:00.004-07:00

Today I'm going to tell you about a friend of mine from high school. I'll call her L.

L is three years younger than I am, so she was a freshman when I was a senior. I had known her before that though. Our families went to the same church, and she played softball on two junior high teams on which my mother was the coach.

When she started high school, she was good friends with a couple of other freshman girls who happened to be in band with me. One of those girls was my assigned "freshman buddy." So we all sort of hung out together.

During the second semester of her freshman year, L decided she really didn't want to go to class. She preferred to spend her time across the street on the smoking curb, or sleeping at home after both her parents had gone to work.

After she had missed 85 days or so of school, they kicked her out. She never did go back to that school, or any other.

A few years later, she got her G.E.D., and then went to cosmetology school to learn to do nails. She does that to this day.

When I was a freshman in college, and she should have been a sophomore in high school, she hung out with me at my dorm. Her parents couldn't control her, and she basically did whatever she wanted. At the time, I thought she was fun. She liked to drink and party, and me being in college, I enjoyed that too. She was cute and she lured in the boys. Fun stuff. The only difference being, is that during the day when we weren't partying and she was sleeping off a hangover in my dorm room, I was actually attending college.

We went through a lot together during my college years. We have stayed friends to this day. We went over to her house occasionally for barbeques and swimming parties. She is back in Arizona, so we basically stay in touch through Facebook.

Our lives went in very different directions, she and I. You see, when she was 17, she went to Virginia to live with her aunt for a while, because her parents didn't know what to do with her anymore, and she couldn't stand living with them either. When she was there, she met a guy who was probably 22 at the time. I'll call him J. She started dating J. He was a nice guy who worked for some computer company. When she came back to AZ a year later, he came with her.

When she was 19, she and J got married. J was/is an extremely ambitious, money-wise, responsible, mature guy. He worked his way up through a couple of different jobs, and is now an IT director for a very well-known company that rhymes with Marles Lawb. My friend L, she still does nails.

They live in a big house. They have three teenage boys who have always had whatever they wanted. She lives a life of extravagance and social scenes. They have a lot of parties so she can show off her house and everyone can see what a great life she has. She lives this life as though she's entitled to it. I wonder if she ever considers where she would be had she not met J?

She brags incessantly about her middle son, who is a junior in high school. He gets straight As in his AP classes and plays on the varsity football team. A few other friends of hers refer to him snarkily as "the golden child" behind her back, because honestly? It gets tiring listening to her after a while.

I know why she does this though. She is very insecure with herself, and she validates herself through her boys and her house and her successful husband. Still, it doesn't stop me from being a little...miffed. Jealous isn't the word, because I wouldn't want to be her. But here I sit with a college degree, unemployed. My husband went to college, and is also unemployed. We both had the bad luck to be working for companies who, due to financial reasons, closed their offices.

I spent yesterday panicking because my husband's unemployment money didn't show up on his debit card. When it didn't show up Tuesday, we weren't that worried, because Monday was MLK day, and everything was shut down. But when it wasn't there yesterday, I was having more than just a small anxiety attack.

He called the unemployment line, and an automated message said that his payment had been issued on Tuesday. Thankfully, we have now received it. I guess the holiday slows everything down.

Yesterday, L posted this message on Facebook:

"Sooooooo bummed!!! Lost the 72" tv last night to a power outage and it screwed up some enternal something... Have to go back to my 10 yr old 50" sooooooo sucks!!!!!!!!"

First of all, yes...she said "enternal", because she never finished the ninth grade. Also, I don't think she ever reads anything, so she spells things like they sound. She spells tomorrow as "tomarrow." Every. Single. Time. It drives me crazy. I want to tell her, but I can't think of a tactful way to do it. I've commented on her status when she spells it that way, and I'll use the word in my comment, spelled correctly. She still doesn't get it.

But when I saw that message, my first thought was, "Oh, poor baby...you have to use a 50" TV for awhile, until you replace the 72" one?" Which they undoubtedly will, because they can. Let me get out my violin of all things tragic.

It's even a little more disgusting, because she can post that a week after an entire country was devastated by an earthquake. I doubt world events are even on her radar.

Then I thought about myself, panicking over a missing unemployment payment. Scores of people have died in Haiti, and those who haven't are living in horrendous conditions, with no food, water or shelter.

I have a roof over my head, and food on my table. I have three beautiful, healthy girls. I even have a 38" TV in my living room with a very nice picture that we picked up at the thrift store for $25. I have cable TV and Internet access. My kids don't have designer clothes, and they don't get everything they want, but they have plenty, more than they need. We have electricity and water and heat. We have two cars, and family and friends who are alive and well. We are struggling a bit right now, but we will get through it and we will be fine.

I wonder if this lady would be upset if she had to use a 10 year-old, 50" television for a while?

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

2010-01-20T14:25:00.003-07:00

As soon as I wrote that title, it made me think of Nearly Headless Nick. Hee.

I got nothin' today, so you get a picture of the dogs. Luke, the one year-old beagle, and Bo, the 10 year-old chug. That's a chihuahua-pug mix, in case you were wondering. Before the age of designer dogs. We got Bo at the pound for $10. I wonder what a chug goes for now at the pet store?

I tried to get my daughter to name her rabbit Daisy, but she wasn't having it.

My New Love Affair

2010-01-19T11:27:00.002-07:00

That's right, I am in love.

I am in love with boots.

In Arizona, there was never any reason to wear boots. It was never cold enough, plus they look a little silly with shorts. Not that I didn't see some teenagers wearing Uggs with shorts...but that doesn't change the fact that it looks silly.

Since I moved here, I have fallen in love with boots. This particular pair is my fuzzy-and-warm- but-it's-not-going-to-be-wet-outside boots. Of course, you can tell by the water marks that I have worn them out in the snow, but they're not meant to be wet. I wear these almost every day.

I also love my snow boots. They're black, furry, and zip up the front. I have hiking boots, which are for days when inner furriness is not required, but it's not shorts weather either. I'm telling you, you need different boots for different situations.

The girls have fallen in love with boots too. This is the pair that Kylie wore to school today.

I hope their future husbands don't mind that they will take a backseat to the boots.

Free Day At The Zoo

2010-01-18T18:01:00.002-07:00

Today Kylie and I went to the Denver Zoo. Every year, they have a list of days on their website when admission is free. This year, they have two days in January, two in February, two in October and two in November. Do they figure it will be cold enough on those days that they won't be overrun by 8 billion people?

It's a good theory, but today was mostly sunny and in the upper 40s, so downright balmy for January. Needless to say, it was pretty crowded. But, since it was just Kylie and me and I didn't have any other kids/people to keep track of, I didn't mind the crowds.

One of the exhibits is called the Lorikeet adventure. It's an open-air exhibit and there are all these beautiful, colorful birds.

For $1, you buy a small cup of nectar and you can feed the birds. Most people just hold the cup up to the birds and let them drink, but I'm pretty good at getting the birds to walk onto my hand. You have to hold the cup just far enough away from them so that they have to step onto your finger to reach it.

I was trying to help Kylie, but every time a bird would go to use its beak to pull itself onto her hand, she'd yank away, thinking she was going to get bitten. So I finally got the idea to get one on my hand, then take my cup away and point it toward her cup. Yay, it worked.

The whole idea of going to the zoo on the free admission day was to not spend any money, right? I told the child to bring a sweatshirt, but did she? No. Notice the sweatshirt she is wearing that says "Denver Zoo, 1836." At least it was on the clearance rack, but it was still $20.

I had also planned on bringing a picnic for lunch, but then I remembered that if I brought stuff with us, I was going to have to carry it around all day. I don't care for that. So I ended up buying lunch too. Even with free admission, it still cost me almost $40. Sigh.

So, here's what I learned today:

1. If you're going to go to the zoo on free admission day, get there before they open at 10am so you can get a parking space. If you get there at say, 11:30am? You're going to be walking a few miles before you even get to the zoo entrance.

2. I miss having a stroller sometimes. You don't realize how much crap you used to carry around in the bottom of one of those things until you don't have one (or have a friend with you that has one.)

3. A 3' 9" tall child who only weighs 38 lbs is always going to be cold. Force her to bring sweatshirt/jacket.

4. The Denver Zoo, and every other zoo I've ever been to, has way too many effing birds. There's Bird World (which I refuse to go into, because it's hot and humid and, yuck), and also it seems every corner you turn, more birds. Enough with birds already.

5. Sometimes indoor exhibits are great, because you can see the animals whether they are inside or outside. An example of an indoor exhibit that is not great? Elephants and rhinos. And giraffes. The smell will make you gag.

And finally:
6. Denver Broncos attire is never out of season, or out of fashion.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

2010-01-17T11:16:00.005-07:00

Have you heard about Manic Mommy's third annual Virtual Blood Drive?

For the third year, Stephanie Elliot, aka Manic Mommy, is asking her readers to donate a pint of blood.

When you give your pint of blood, have your picture taken in the chair and email it to her. Every Sunday, she posts the pictures of the blood donors on her site. When it's over, everyone who has donated is entered into a drawing for some really cool prizes. Last year I believe there were a lot of gift cards given to winners, and the grand prize was a trip to a resort in Florida. I believe that most or all of the prizes are donated.

This year, the big prize is a round trip ticket on Southwest Airlines. There will also be other smaller prizes.

So, head on over to Manic's blog and read about the blood drive. Unfortunately, I am unable to donate, because I am severely anemic. And please don't tell me to take iron supplements or eat red meat. I DO. I am trying, with my doctor, to get the problem under control. And she has determined that yes, it IS an iron deficiency, and I asked my doctor if I could give blood, and she said no. Actually, she said hell no.

Since I can't donate, I thought the next best thing I could do was to make anyone who reads my blog aware of the blood drive. So please, click on over to Manic's blog and check it out!

Also, if you happen to have an "in" with Ellen DeGeneres, I'm sure Steph would love to hear from you. You'll have to head over there to find out what I mean. :)

Colorado Sports

2010-01-16T10:12:00.002-07:00

Kylie took a ski lesson, then she was on her own. She did really well for her first time!

A Deal With The Devil

2010-01-15T09:18:00.005-07:00

Swiped from my friend Brenda from her Facebook page, I think this speaks for itself.

The Red Cross

What Day Is It?

2010-01-14T12:17:00.003-07:00

I have a problem. It's the effing 14th of January, and I don't have a calendar.

I need a calendar to function. I buy one of those big desk blotter calendars from Staples and hang it on my wall, next to the computer. I need the big squares so I can write stuff.

If you know me, you know that I am a list maker. A calendar user. I write stuff down, because if I don't, I'll forget. If some child asks me why they didn't get the ______ that they asked me to get at the grocery store, my reply will most likely be, "It wasn't on the list!"

Right now, the space where my calendar goes looks like this:

December has been ripped away, and there is cardboard underneath. I know you're probably wondering why I don't just go to the store and get a new one. Good question. Staples isn't that close, and I NEED one of those big calendars. I'll get there eventually, and I'm hoping by the time I do, they'll be like 90% off.

In the meantime, I used my mad Photoshop skillz to depict what my new calendar would look like...if I had one. Yes, I know it looks like my first-grader did it. Shut up.

Happy January 14th! (I'm pretending it's New Year's, so I don't feel like I'm so late)

Fifteen

2010-01-13T12:21:00.009-07:00

Today is my middle daughter's 15th birthday. Happy birthday, Shannon! Born Friday, January 13th, 1995. Yep, Friday the 13th. I've always thought that explained a lot about her.

This is Shannon with her best friend, Syd. Yes, she has a best friend in Colorado. In fact, she has lots of friends in Colorado. As the months go by, I'm hearing, "I want to go back to Arizona!" less and less. There are moments still though...when she's mad at me.

Adolescence is hell, people. I've done this twice now, and in a few years, I get to do it again. Oh joy. Don't kid yourself...my suitcase is already packed.

Ages 12 (or even sometimes 11) through 14 are not pretty. Do you remember when you were that age? And you hated your parents and everything sucked? I think it's even harder from this end. Because even though you totally don't understand what they're going through, in reality (which is not in their head, but yours) you do. Because I remember being a teenager, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't remember being 40 and dealing with a teenage daughter.

But let's go back in time a bit, shall we?

Ok, honestly? I should have known there was going to be trouble, when I caught her doing this before she even turned two. It was hilarious though, judging by the fact that I took pictures.

This is the Christmas right before she turned three, I think. You all, if you have little kids? Write the dates on your photos. Because sometimes I just can't remember, and I wish I could. I know this was the Christmas that Steve's mom had to get all three of her granddaughters (Danni, Shannon and their cousin Skylar) a Tickle Me Elmo. Although it might be the Christmas right before she turned two. Honestly, I can't tell.

This is Shannon at age four or five. She used to have the most beautiful light brown hair, with wavy, curly locks. Sometimes I could kill her for ever coloring it, and wanting it pin straight. I used to love my little girl's hair.

Halloween, age 5. My mother made a Super Girl costume for her. She was the sweetest kid. Out of the three? The easiest baby and the most laid-back child. I will now tell people these are warning signs.

Christmas 2002, right before Shannon turned eight.

Honestly, I had some trouble finding pictures of Shannon that didn't have either one or both of her sisters in them. We have a lot of pictures of Danni, the oldest. And since there was an almost eight year break between Shannon and Kylie, we have a lot of pictures of Kylie. Shannon? Not so much. Middle kids are the Rodney Dangerfield of the family. No respect.

Do you notice how I'm letting my almost 8 year-old take a 3 month-old baby on the merry-go-round? That's stellar parenting, right there. In my defense though, I'm pretty sure that the reason Danni is standing next to them is because she has a hand on Kylie too.

This is the time she auditioned for Baywatch. The producers were all, "Um, you have to have boobs to be on Baywatch." And I said, "Hey, she's only eight years old!" And they said, "Yeah, what's your point?"

Really, a family vacation to San Diego and L.A. This could be either Mission Beach in San Diego, or Huntington Beach in L.A. Again, I'm not sure, because I don't write on my pictures.

As I mentioned before, the last few years have been, umm....challenging. Moving right before she started high school was not helpful. The first semester here was rough. She makes friends easily though, and now we've switched up her school schedule a bit, and I have to say, at 15, I'm finally starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel of hormonal hell.

Two years ago, I was bemoaning my baby becoming a teenager. In fact, there's a really cute picture of her sleeping on the last day she was 12. Reading that entry, we were already having problems with her.

Two years later, things are different. She still has her moments, but now we have more good times than bad ones. She's a really good kid, for the most part. In fact, on New Year's Eve, she was spending the night at a friend's house. She called me at 1am to pick her up because some of the kids were drinking, and she didn't want any part of it. I was pretty proud of her for that.

This past semester, her grades kind of sucked. Ok, they really sucked. I've chalked it up to the move, and the complete inability of a 14 year-old to have any long term perspective. She just doesn't really seem to care about grades. So this semester, instead of yelling and screaming (from both of us), I'm using a reward instead. A financial reward. We'll see how that works out.

I always get sad on my kids' birthdays, because I hate that they are growing up. On the other hand, I am proud of the women they are becoming. Does that make sense? It's been a long road with her, this adolescence thing, but I think, I really do, that we're finally coming out of it.

Back when she was about seven or eight, I remember absolutely forbidding her to get any older. She never does listen to me.

Happy birthday, Baby. I love you.

The Terrorists Are Winning At My House

2010-01-12T15:49:00.009-07:00

Today's picture was swiped from Passive Aggressive Notes. If you don't know of the site, please go look...it's hilarious. Hey, go look right now if you want to...I can wait.

Hi, back? I borrowed this picture from that website the other day, just because I thought it was so dang funny.

I giggled long and hard over that note. Sometime later, I said to my husband,

"Did you see that picture of the toilet paper note on the desktop?"

He replied,

"Yeah, I saw it...but I don't get it."

Me, momentarily stunned.

Then I cackled,

"That's because you never change the toilet paper roll!", proud of my deductive reasoning skills.

He said,

"Ok, but I still don't get it. What do toilet paper rolls have to do with terrorists?"

No, I'm not kidding.

The Creative One

2010-01-11T11:40:00.003-07:00

Yesterday, I talked about how I am missing the creative gene.

You know who's not missing it? Shannon.

She already knows what she wants to be when she grows up. She wants to be a professional photographer. She took beginning photography last semester (first semester of freshman year), and now she's in intermediate photography. She's also taking a drawing class.

Next comes advanced photography, next year...which somehow involves having your own digital camera with manual controls. A Sony Cybershot point and shoot will not work in this situation. Send money please!

Right now they are using film cameras. As in, cameras that still use film. Did you know those even still existed? Well, they do. In pawn shops. Which is where we got her a pretty nice Nikon. I don't know what we're going to do about next year. Hopefully things will be looking up, financially speaking, by then.

Once again, I can't stay on topic. Today's picture is a photo of a mug that Shannon painted at a place called My Art Workshop. They have ceramic stuff you can paint, wooden stuff you can paint, mosaic stones, sand art, and other cool stuff. I found out about it when Kylie went there for a birthday party.

Shannon took this plain white ceramic mug, painted it gold, and free-handed a cherry blossom tree all over it. I was kind of amazed, and so were the people that worked there.

Do you think that left-handed people are just naturally more creative? That whole, right brain, left brain thing? All I know is that she spent a good 90 minutes on this, and if the store wasn't closing, I'm sure it would have been longer. Color me jealous. I'd be lucky just to be able to paint the thing a solid color.

Crafts? Just Kill Me Now

2010-01-10T11:56:00.003-07:00

Hello, all you crafty, scrapbooking, homemade-Christmas-ornament-making, knitting, sewing people! Welcome. I am not one of you. I don't do crafts. Or, better stated, I can't do crafts. I am craftically challenged. Creatively challenged. I couldn't craft my way out of a paper bag. You get the idea. Also, I do not like messes. Art projects make messes. It's a known fact.

So of course, my daughter brings home this book from school. It's called, "Arty Facts: Insects, Bugs & Art Activities." Greeeaattttt.

All weekend, she has been bugging me to do the above project, which involves making some dough, forming it into spirals, baking it, and then painting/gluing/glittering your spiral. Ok, not that hard. For most people. I've been putting her off all weekend. Yesterday, she went out to play and spent the whole day down the street. Lucky for me. But last night, I pinky-promised her that I would make the dough today. And every one knows you can't go back on a pinky-promise.

So this morning, I got out the book. The book said I would need a bowl, a wooden spoon, flour, water and cooking oil to make the dough. Ok.

Let me read you the exact instructions from the book on making the dough.

"In a bowl, mix flour, water, and cooking oil into a dough. Add more flour if the dough is too sticky. Knead the dough, cover it, and put it in the fridge for half an hour."

That's it. Apparently, I'm supposed to guess on the measurements? Let's see... 8 cups of flour, 2 cups of water, 5 tablespoons of oil? Umm....2 cups flour, 1/2 cup water, 1/2 cup oil? We could be here all week. You see my predicament. Because as if this isn't hard enough for me, they leave out the farking measurements?

So I consulted with my best friend Google, trying to find a recipe for a playdough that you can bake. I discovered that every single playdough recipe on the internet contains salt. Why doesn't it say salt in the book? Because they are trying to make my head explode.

The simplest one I could find said 2 cups flour, 1/2 cup salt, and 3/4 cups warm water. After tweaking the amount of flour and water for awhile, I came up with something that wasn't sticky.

See the TV over there? The Ravens are winning like 24-0. Oh Patriots, we barely knew ye. Besides, the real game comes on at 2:30pm. Go Cardinals!!

See why I can't do crafts? I'm distracted by football.

Now the kid is kneading and playing with a lump of dough that I hope will keep her busy for a while. And I'm looking up the authors to this book so I can put out a hit on them.

Plus, you know when the dog is doing this? It means there's going to be a mess. Like flour all over the floor. I hate flour on the floor.

So as I'm typing this, Kylie shouts, "Hey mom, come look at this!" I go into the kitchen to see that she has flattened out the entire ball of dough into what looks like a dinosaur head. Which honestly? Is the biggest insect I've ever seen. She has her watercolors out, and she's painting the raw dough.

"Sweetie, you're supposed to bake the dough before you paint it."

"Oh. Oops."

She keeps painting.

Right now in my oven is a green, dinosaur-head shaped piece of dough. Kylie just informed her dad that he wasn't allowed to eat what was in the oven. Because I'm sure he would have been tempted had she not said that.

I think I need a drink.

The Path To School

2010-01-09T11:21:00.004-07:00

This is a sidewalk that leads out of our cul-de-sac and through that wooden gate. This is the path that Kylie and her little buddies use to walk to school every morning. Well, almost every morning. I've driven her around to the front of the school a couple of times, when it was snowing and very cold.

This is the first time I've ever not had to drive a child to school. When the older two were in elementary school, they went to a charter school. So there were no buses. It was nice, because back then we moved around the city a lot, it seems. Even though we moved, they never had to change schools. It just changed the distance I had to drive them.

Through that gate and to the right, is the elementary school where they have K-3. The 4th, 5th and 6th graders go to a different school, about a mile away. I love having the school so close to us.

I love this picture. I love the contrast of the white snow against the bright blue sky. When I look at this picture, with no one on the path, the solitude of it reminds me of The Road Not Taken. Even though this "road" is very well traveled by the neighborhood kids and their moms. Even though it's not a picture of two roads diverging. At the moment, in the quiet morning, it does seem to be "the one less traveled by."

Remember The Photographer?

2010-01-08T11:22:00.003-07:00

The lady did indeed come through with our pictures. And since I know you have all been sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear what happened (ha!), I thought I'd show you a portrait of each daughter.

There were a lot more pictures, some family ones, some candid ones, and they all turned out very nicely. But I'm just showing three, because I don't want to bore you with 3450345809 pictures of my kids. You're welcome.

The oldest. I think this makes a great senior picture, don't you? Even if she does live in Arizona, and the background is snow. It's different. It's original. No cactus. I like it. I like it because it's not a backdrop in a studio. It's an actual tree, in my actual backyard.

The middle one, with the beagle. The photographer made this really weird, high pitched whistling noise to get the dog to perk up and look at her. A noise I couldn't even begin to replicate. But it worked. I know you're wondering why the child has flats that look like summer shoes on her feet. What can I say? She's the middle child, the only lefty, and she's a bit...different. And if she wants freezing feet, hey...that's her business.

My baby. That hair. Those eyes. Every single day of her life I make her promise that she's still going to love me when she's 13. One of these days I'm going to put it on video. Then when she's 13 and being snotty to me, I'll play back the video. Then she'll roll her eyes and go, "MOM! Omg, I can't believe you kept that! You are so lame!"

Sigh. I am not looking forward to that day.

Anyway, I love these pictures. I think the photographer did a nice job.

Sherlock Holmes

2010-01-07T13:27:00.004-07:00

Welcome to day 7 of project 365. One week. Are you proud of me? I am. I didn't even think I'd make it this far. The question now becomes, not will I make it to 365, but how far will I go before I get bored and say screw it? Which is what I do with most new projects. But I digress.

On to today's topic, which is my undying love for Robert Downey, Jr. In fact, I just professed my love in the comments on Bossy's blog, because I clicked over there and she just happened to have written about one of my favorite ~~celebrity boyfriends~~ actors, RDJ. Do you read Bossy? If not, why not? She's awesome.

I should hire someone to keep me on topic.

Hiring someone would require money, which...you know, I'm unemployed.

Are you annoyed yet?

Today's picture is a screenshot of Sherlock Holmes, which the hubby and I just got back from watching. Not a bad picture for a cellphone in a movie theater, right? At our certain theater, if you see the first show, it's only $6. So for two of us, $12. And if you can manage to resist the popcorn and nachos, which we did, it's still only $12, which is why we thought we deserved a break, and went to a movie. Actually, I thought we deserved a break. He thought he should stay home glued to the computer, filling out applications online. I told him he could take a morning off, it was ok.

Hello, on-topic person? You're about to be fired.

We went and saw Sherlock Holmes today. It was a fun movie. RDJ does a great Britsh accent. For further proof, go rent Chaplin. I mean it. It's his best movie. Get thee to Blockbuster. Also, go see Sherlock Holmes. It was good. And I don't say that about very many movies. And the fact that I would go see anything RDJ was in doesn't have anything to do with it. However, me seeing Ironman II this summer may have something to do with him. Him being in the movie.

It's The Most Wonderful Time...

2010-01-06T09:00:00.003-07:00

Remember that I said I was going to try and look around me for the beautiful and positive things in life? What could be more beautiful than the backs of Kylie (left) and her friend Zoe as they head off for their first day of school after winter break? Bye kids! Bundle up, it's cold!

The Flat Stanley Project

2010-01-05T08:28:00.007-07:00

Over Christmas break, Kylie and I participated in The Flat Stanley Project.

Do you remember the book Flat Stanley? It's about a boy whose bulletin board fell on him during the night, and flattened him like a pancake. He discovered he could visit his friends by mailing himself in an envelope.

I had never heard of the Flat Stanley Project. My friend Pam in Florida emailed me and said that her son Braden, who is in second grade, was doing a Flat Stanley project for his class, and she asked if she could mail him to us. I said it sounded like fun.

Basically, we got to take Flat Stanley along with us on our adventures during Christmas and take pictures. Today we will fill out his travelogue, which includes the date he arrived at our house, our location, the weather, and a brief list of his adventures with us. I thought I'd share what we did with Flat Stanley while he was here.

The day he arrived, he wanted to go out and stand in the snow. Then he decided his feet were cold.

Here he is with Kylie next to our Christmas tree (which is going to get taken down this weekend, I SWEAR, even if I have to chuck it out the window).

Since Kylie had never read Flat Stanley and didn't know the story, we went to the library, found the book, and read it together.

Flat Stanley went with us to Denver Zoo Lights. The problem was though, if I used a flash, you couldn't see the lights...and if I didn't use a flash, you couldn't see Stanley. I opted for seeing the lights.

The day we went to the lake on walked on the ice? Flat Stanley went with us. He walked on the ice too.

He especially liked tubing in the snow.

Hopefully, Flat Stanley will be mailed back to Tampa today. When he gets there, Braden will take him back to school and mark our location on a map. He also gets to write a story about Flat Stanley's adventures in Colorado. I printed out all the above pictures and will be mailing them back with Stanley.

I think this is a really neat reading project for lower elementary kids. Have any of your kids every done this?

An Early Morning Visitor

2010-01-04T09:22:00.004-07:00

One of the things I love about living here is the amount of wildlife in our neighborhood. We have lots of cottontail rabbits and squirrels, and also a lot of deer. I've been told that elk stroll through occasionally too, but I've never seen one.

This little lady stopped by my backyard for a snack this morning. She didn't seem to mind me standing on the patio, snapping her picture. She was much more interested in my pine tree. I imagine it gets difficult for them to find food this time of year. I locked the dogs inside the house so she could stay as long as she wanted.

The "Professional" Photographer

2010-01-03T11:17:00.009-07:00

I've decided that on occasion, I may cheat and use a picture that I already have for my picture of the day. Then I decided this totally counts and is not cheating. Hey, my project, my rules.

My entire family was here for Christmas. This means my parents, my oldest daughter, my brother, his wife, and their daughter Makenzie who is four, plus the husband, the two children that still live with us, and me. Total of 10 people in my house for a week. Actually, my parents and daughter arrived on Dec. 21st, and my brother and his family on the 23rd. They all left on the 30th. I was very happy to have them here. I was also happy when they left. That's a lot of people to have in your house.

We did a lot of fun things while they were here. Two days after Christmas, we took a family ski trip to Echo Mountain. When I say a family trip, I mean all four kids and my brother and sister-in-law went skiing and I took pictures. My husband, who has had a knee replacement, is not an eligible skier. Neither is my mother, who is 73. My father stayed at the house...to keep the dogs company, I suppose.

We also took Kylie and Makenzie to a place called Jump Street, which is a whole place full of trampolines and bouncy things. We went sledding at Sledding Hill Park. We went to Denver's Zoo Lights. And when my sister-in-law, who will hereafter be referred to as "Susan", because that's her name, discovered we had a Chipotle at the bottom of the hill? Lunch was in order. A few times.

We also wanted to get a family portrait taken. And when I say "we", I mean Susan. Don't get me wrong, I like her a lot. We have fun, she likes to drink, 'nuff said. But I wasn't so much up for a family portrait, but it's just one of those things you do.

About a week before their arrival, Susan called me and asked if I would mind if she hired a photographer to come to my house and do pictures, instead of all of us going to Sears. That way, the kids could change clothes, take pictures with the dogs, or out in the snow, or whatever. I said sure, whatever you want to do is fine.

So on Christmas Eve day, a professional photographer came to our house, who was basically a nice lady with a nice camera. The deal was, Susan paid her for an hour of her time. I don't know how much and I didn't ask. She took a big group shot, my kids, Susan's kid, our family, my brother's family, my kids with dogs, playing in the snow, etc. What was supposed to happen is that this woman would go home, Photoshop the pictures, adjust light, blah blah, and send us CDs. That way we could use Shutterfly or Target to make our own prints. Sounded good to me.

So she came, and took pictures. When she had the kids set up, Susan and my mom were also snapping pictures with their cameras behind her. This whole story led up to the picture I wanted to show you today, which was one of my three girls:

This picture was taken either by my mom or Susan, I'm not sure which. But I know it wasn't taken by the professional lady. You know how I know that? Because we don't have these mysterious CDs yet. We had these pictures done on the 24th, which was a Thursday. She was going to "work on them over the weekend", and mail the CDs to my house on Monday. Since she lives here where I live, we were expecting to get them on Tuesday. No dice. Wednesday? Nope. That's the day everyone left, and we agreed that when they came, I would just mail them to everyone. Thursday? Nope. Friday was New Year's Day, so no mail. Yesterday, I didn't check the mail, so there is always the possibility that they are sitting in my mailbox, frozen.

There's also the possibility that this whole thing was a scam. Pay her for an hour to take pictures, and then she disappears with the money and a digital camera full of pictures that we won't ever see. I'm really hoping that's not the case, as the lady seemed very nice, and I wouldn't want Susan to have been cheated out of however much money she paid this woman.

Steve's going to the store, I think I'll have him stop at the mailbox. More later on the saga of "The Professional Photographer"...

ETA: Ok, so the CDs were sitting in my mailbox from yesterday. Surprisingly, not frozen. Dear Roberta from ****** *********** Photography...I apologize profusely. Some of the pictures turned out really great. Especially some of Danni that she took next to a tree in my backyard, with a snow background. THAT looks like a senior picture to me, so the company in AZ who wants $500 to do a senior picture package? Can suck it.

A New Experience

2010-01-02T16:33:00.003-07:00

Today I did something I've never done before. I walked on water.

Ok, it was frozen water, but water nonetheless.

I've never walked on a frozen lake before, and I was ~~slightly~~ quite apprehensive. However, there were two other ladies there, with a boy and a dog. One of the ladies was trying to explain to the boy how she knew the ice was safe to walk on. She kicked some snow out of the way until you could see the ice. The ice was white, not clear, and very hard.

Still, I waited for them to walk out onto it before I let Kylie venture out.

This is Kylie standing on Johnson Lake in Clement Park. If you remember back to 1999 and the Columbine shootings, you saw tons of TV trucks and a memorial tent for each student that was killed in a park near the school. That was Clement Park. One day when it's warmer and the flowers are blooming again, I'll make the Columbine Memorial at Clement Park my picture of the day. It's really quite moving.

Anyhoo, the geese are walking rather than swimming these days. And I was indeed on the ice, albeit a bit closer to the shore than Kylie. You see, she only weighs 38 lbs. And I weigh...more than 38 lbs. So I figured she was safer out there than I was. It was strange, walking in the same spot that Kylie and her dad had cast out their fishing lines on Father's Day. I like having four seasons.

A New Decade

2010-01-01T21:52:00.002-07:00

A couple of you may have noticed that I've stopped posting regularly. There are a lot of reasons for that, but I think the main one is that on Oct. 22nd, my husband was laid off from his job. You know, the one for which we packed up and moved to Colorado. He was working for a non-profit, and like so many other things we can blame on the economy, their funding was pulled. There were 13 people working in his office, and I believe nine of them were let go.

Since then, I just haven't really had the motivation to write anything. There's been a small post here and there, but other than that, bupkus. I think I like to try and be funny most of the time, and honestly? Not much around here has been funny recently. We're now living on two unemployment paychecks, mine and his, and a part time pizza delivery job. Don't get me wrong, we're luckier than most. Colorado's unemployment payments are, thankfully, much larger than Arizona's. We had a nice Christmas and my whole family was here. We've had to cut back, but the house payment is being made, most of the rest of the bills are being paid, and no one is going hungry. I'm well aware that it could be much worse.

I've been trying to think of ways to get myself back into writing. I thought about trying to do a project 365, but I seriously doubt that I'd take a picture and post every single day. It's a nice idea, but I just can't see it. I could try. It'd probably last four days. Or two.

The title of this post is "A New Decade." Not only a new year, but a new span of 10 years. They're going fast. It's hard to believe that by the time this new decade is over, I'll be in my 50's, and getting ready for my youngest to graduate from high school. She's in first grade now. If I've done the math right, she'll be in the class of 2021. That seems far away now, but I'm going to blink my eyes and I'll be buying her cap and gown.

Life is too short to be depressed and anxious all the time. Yes, I've gone to a doctor, and gotten some meds. Actually, I did that about three weeks before the husband was laid off, because the anxiety I've lived with all my life had reached an unbearable level. Because I'd been on Lexapro for three weeks before he lost his job, I didn't completely freak out. But something is happening now, because I'm starting to feel more like I did before I started on the meds. Not completely, but ... well, maybe it was just the holidays and all.

In any case, I'm going to try carrying my camera around with me, and seeing what happens. I doubt I'll post every day, but I'm going to try and look for the good, the positive, and the beautiful things around me. I'm thinking that might help my mood.

When my sister-in-law, brother and niece left on Wednesday, they left me a nice card and $50, to help with "the toiletries they used." Which was unnecessary, but really nice of her. Let me mention here that they do not know, and neither do my parents, that my husband is out of work. I didn't tell my parents because my dad has my lifelong anxiety issues times ten, and I don't want him worrying about us. And he won't take meds because, you know, he doesn't have a problem.

Anyway, we took the $50 and went to Target today. We picked up some necessities, then we hit the 75% off Christmas clearance stuff.

Kylie found this, and she had to have it:

Did we need it? Nope. But it's cute and festive, and I'll forget all about it when I pack it away with the other Christmas stuff. Next year when I get out the Christmas stuff, I'll be pleasantly surprised by some new, cute little ornaments, a new ribbon for my wreath, and this little wire tree with glitter and bells. I know it's symbolic in some way, I'm just not quite sure how. I look at it, and I see hope. Peace. And the joy of the child that picked it out.

Ok, 2010...help me out here. I need a hand up, and I know you've got it in you.

The Science of Baking

2009-12-19T20:07:00.008-07:00

Baking at 6000 ft. is hard, y'all. It involves science and math, and other things that make my head hurt.

I've Googled, I've read. I've tried to understand why water boils faster up here, and why the first batch of Toll House cookies I made came out like hockey pucks. I read something about the principles of high altitude baking, and how to modify recipes. But I don't understand it. And please don't try to explain it to me. I promise, I still won't get it.

Fortunately, things like cake mixes and brownie mixes and the Toll House cookie recipe have special high altitude instructions. For cakes and brownies, it involves adding dry flour to the mixes, and also adding more water. What does this have to do with high altitude? I haven't a clue. But it works.

You know what doesn't work? Using store-bought, refrigerated cookie dough to make your Christmas cookies. Because after 7 minutes at 350 degrees? They look like this:

Can you tell which ones are the trees, which are the stars and which are the gingerbread men? Yeah, me either. But I swear, they started out in those shapes. Frisbee, anyone?

Can you say frustrating? I suppose I could look up a recipe for high altitude sugar cookie dough and make it from scratch, but honestly, that's just way too much work for me.

Luckily for me, guess what they sell at the grocery store?

Plain, undecorated Christmas cookies!

Besides, this is all she really wants to do anyway. I know, good luck getting her to go to sleep tonight, right?

Whatever means we used to get here, it's all good. What else do kids really want, but to make a huge mess with frosting and sprinkles ~~for mom to clean up~~?

(And try not to be too jealous of my lovely matching plates, ok?)

I'll Take "People No One In The Real World Knows About" for $800, Alex

2009-12-10T18:16:00.004-07:00

I'm flabbergasted. Heather Armstrong, a.k.a. Dooce, was just the answer to a freaking question on Jeopardy. Jeopardy!

The category was "Urban Dictionary", and thanks to the DVR, I can tell you what the clue was word for word:

"This term was coined by blogger Heather Armstrong, meaning to lose your job because of your blog."

The answer? (Question?) You've been "Dooced."

The funniest part? None of the contestants had any clue what the answer was. But I did! And I don't even read her blog.

The Expanding Snuggie Market

2009-11-16T06:58:00.002-07:00

"Keeps you warm, and your PAWS free!"

Well, thank goodness for that.

Happy Anniversary Sesame Street

2009-11-12T21:46:00.004-07:00

I miss you, and remember you fondly. Of course it's not off the air, but it premiered when I was two, and now my youngest child is a little too old for it. According to my mom, it was my favorite show as a preschooler.

A few of my favorites:

Counting My Blessings

2009-10-18T10:52:00.004-07:00

Disclaimer: This story is about my experience, and my experience only. I know many other people have gone through this same thing and feel differently about it. This is only about what happened to me.

Twelve years ago today, October 18th, 1997...I had a miscarriage.

Danielle was five years old and Shannon was two. I had had the option of getting my tubes tied after Shannon was born by C-section in January of 1995. Why not? We'd always planned on having two kids, and there we were with two, beautiful healthy girls.

At the time though, I wasn't sure. You see, in my younger days, I'd always envisioned my children being boys. I was a tomboy as a kid, and I'd always pictured myself going to Pop Warner football games, baseball games, and cheering on my boys.

Were we going to try one more time for a boy? In January of 1995, I just wasn't sure we were done. So I didn't have the tubal.

Somewhere in July of 1997, we had an unplanned pregnancy. It couldn't have come at a worse time. Steve and I were not getting along well. Financially, things sucked. We were living in a two-bedroom apartment. I was, frankly, horrified at the thought of having another baby at that time.

So for a while, even though I knew I was, I pretended like I wasn't pregnant. I didn't even make a doctor's appointment until I was about 12 weeks along. However, we did make one huge mistake: We told the girls. I wish we hadn't.

When I went for my first doctor's appointment, they couldn't find a heartbeat. They did an ultrasound, no heartbeat. They concluded from the size of the fetus that it had stopped growing at about six weeks. I had been walking around for six weeks with a dead fetus in my womb, that my body hadn't yet decided to expel, for whatever reason.

One minute, I was going to have three children, and the next minute, I wasn't. I was stunned, numb. I didn't cry. I don't really remember being upset. Just stunned. I had had two perfectly healthy and relatively easy pregnancies before, and this possibility had just never occurred to me. My obgyn, who was a wonderful, sweet, teddy bear of a man, told me that statistically, 1 in 3 pregnancies don't make it to term, and 95% of those end in the first trimester. "Huh," I said.

He told me that my options were to either schedule a D and C, or just wait and let nature take its course. Had I known what was going to happen over the weekend, I would have just scheduled it. But I didn't know, so I decided to wait.

I went home and told Steve. I honestly don't remember what his reaction was. What wasn't easy was trying to explain to a five year-old that the baby she thought we were going to have had died inside of me. I don't remember her being extremely upset, just confused. She didn't understand. Shannon was only two, I'm not sure she even remembers this at all.

The next night, I started bleeding. A lot. We called my mom to come stay with the girls, and Steve took me to the hospital, the closest one to our house. I don't remember much about it, except the cramping and the bleeding, which after a while, just kind of stopped on its own. Again, I think I was given the option of a D and C, or just going home. For whatever reason, we went home.

The next night, it started all over again. Called my mom again, went to a different hospital this time, the one where my doctor was actually on staff. I don't remember much here either, except lying on a table in a room, just gushing blood. (sorry) The contractions are just as painful as giving birth. So I was in pain, and bleeding in that room, for what seemed like forever. I have no idea how long it actually was. All I know is that it was a huge relief when they finally took me into surgery, to do the D and C. I didn't know this at the time, but by the time they got me in there, my blood pressure was about 60/30. Which I'm guessing is not good.

When I woke up, it was over. I don't remember going home. I don't think I stayed in the hospital. I think I went right from recovery to home. I may have had a prescription filled, or two. Iron, I hope. Because for about two weeks, I was white as a ghost, and weak. I have no idea how much blood I lost, but it was a lot.

I remember feeling tired and weak. What I don't ever remember feeling was sad. I don't know why. I have no idea if that baby was a boy or a girl. What his or her name would have been. What he or she would have been like. The age differences between the kids would have been very different. A whole different dynamic.

What I do know, is that if I had carried that baby to term, boy or girl, I would have had the tubal that time. Three was my limit. And right now I would have children that were 17, 14, and 11. A three year space between all of them. Perfect, right? Well, no.

I remember sitting in my obgyn's office six weeks later, with Steve, and him asking us what we were going to do about birth control. In the most serious voice I could muster, I said, "We're never having sex again." My doctor laughed like I was kidding. At the time, I didn't feel like I was kidding.

In December of 2001, feelings still raw and fresh from Sept 11th of that year, we had...oops...another unplanned pregnancy. We were in a better place in our relationship, somewhat. Financially? It didn't feel much better, and I must admit that when that first home test came back negative, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

I had a period after that, but it wasn't a normal period. I was just...well, it was extremely light. Steve had just gone to the doctor for a checkup, and he mentioned to the doctor about me and my negative test, and my light period. The doctor said to take another test.

I have to admit here, that when the second test came back positive, the first word out of my mouth was, "FUCK!!!" I called my best friend, and I said "fuck" a lot. I wasn't happy.

I made a doctor's appointment. By the time I went in, I was sort of getting used to the idea of another baby. Danielle would be 10 years old by the time this baby was born. Just so you know? As opposed to toddlers who think they're "helping" with the new baby by bringing you a diaper, or smacking the baby in the face...10 year-olds ARE actually helpful. They can change diapers. They can give bottles. They can burp a baby and get spit up on without completely freaking out. They can rock a baby when your 35 year-old, sleep-deprived self just can't anymore.

I was thinking today, on this 12th anniversary of my miscarriage, how lucky I am. If not for that miscarriage, I wouldn't have this:

And I wouldn't know what a blessing little girls are, when you have a teenager who hates you half the time. In my struggle with adolescence, I still have this little face that thinks I hung the moon. Who still wants to hug me and kiss me, and who still says, "Mama, it's snuggle time!"

They can drive you nuts, make you crazy, and make you want to drink, but I wouldn't have my family any other way. I am so blessed to have my three girls. I love each one of them, more than I can put into words. And today, that is life-affirming.

Nothing, Nothing, Nothing

2009-10-14T12:47:00.002-07:00

That's what I have to write about. Nothing. As you can see, it's been almost two weeks since my last post. I feel like I'm at confession right now. And I'm not even Catholic.

I suppose the biggest news in my life right now is that I'm looking for a job. It's not as easy as I thought it was going to be. Apparently, there are a lot of other people looking for jobs right now. Who knew? Well, I knew...but I guess I didn't really think I'd have any trouble finding something. It now occurs to me that the last three jobs I've had, which span the past 10 years, all three of them I knew someone.

My last job with the medical software company, I got through a friend of mine who already worked there. They desperately needed someone, and I wanted an evening shift. They wanted to offer me days and I said no thank you. They moved someone else to nights so I could have the 3-11. And I only had a phone conversation with my supervisor, no actual interview. Cha-ching.

The job I had before that? I was a teacher's aide at the charter school where my older two went to elementary school. I had known the principal since she opened the school...Danielle had been attending since she was three years old. All I had to do was ask...and I had that job. I left there to take the above job.

The job before that was office manager at a woodworking store. Guess who also worked part time at that store? My retired father. He was just there because he loves woodworking and he wanted to make a few extra bucks. He told me they needed someone in the office. I said ok. I left there after two years to work at the school, so I could have the same hours as the kids.

Now, I don't know anyone. No one to just hand me a job. That sucks. I've been applying, have even heard back from a few, but the emails I get back say "Congratulations, you meet our minimum eligibility requirements. Now we're sending your application on to the next level." And that's where about three things are sitting. I'm kind of stuck, and I'm not sure what to do. Any suggestions greatly appreciated. Or if anyone knows anyone hiring in the Denver area...I'm all ears.

I'm collecting unemployment, but that's going to run out in a couple of months, and I'm a bit nervous. I'm sure something will turn up before then, even if it's working at Target or something (which I'd rather not, but I guess you do what you have to do, right?) However, at some point, hopefully sooner rather than later, I do need a job with health benefits. Because right now? We got nothin'. It's the "cross your fingers and hope and pray that no one gets sick or injured" method of healthcare.

What sadistic asshole came up with the idea for COBRA anyway? I mean really, what was the thought process? Let's see...person loses their job, and one would assume, either all or part of their income. Either way, they now have less income than they had when they were working. So let's come up with a plan with which these people can keep their health insurance from their job. But, instead of $200 a month or so out of their paychecks...since they're now unemployed, let's make them pay the whole thing! Which is about $1300 for the family. So, since you now have less money, I think we should make you pay 6 1/2 times what you were paying when you had a job. Yeah!

Oh, can I tell you about my postalphobia? Yes, that would be fear of the mail. This fear keeps me from picking up my mail from the community box. There's probably a week and a half's worth of mail sitting in there right now. I'm afraid of it because I'm afraid of bad news. So I let it sit. I know the mailman hates us. Maybe I can talk husband into picking it up today. Every day I drive by the mailbox several times, and it just sits there, taunting me. "I could be holding bad news. Someone could want money." I swear, it really says that. The mailbox says that to me. What do you mean, the mailbox doesn't talk to you? Ok, never mind then.

Just so you know, my phobia isn't confined to the mail. I get the same heart-pounding, fight or flight panic feeling whenever my doorbell or my phone rings too. Not my cellphone, that's ok because that's someone I know. My home phone. I nearly go through the roof when it rings.

You know what the advantage is to having your garage being 40 degrees or so? You can keep a case of soda out there and it stays cold. It doesn't take up room in the refrigerator.

Kylie wants to be a ninja...no, a pirate...no, Tinkerbell...no, a ninja...for Halloween. I'm even scared to commit to a costume, because I know she'll change her mind.

Yes, I'm nuts. Over and out.

Autumn

2009-10-01T22:06:00.002-07:00

The trees here are so beautiful right now. We're planning on going up into the mountains on Sunday and taking pictures of the leaves. Fall has always been my favorite season, but now even moreso, I think.

I guess I could have made this a Wordless Wednesday picture, but since it's Thursday, I felt the need to write commentary.

Frustration

2009-09-26T08:32:00.004-07:00

This is Shannon, playing for her high school team. This is not yesterday's game. But what happened at yesterday's game made me so mad that I have to get it out, so you guys are the lucky recipients. Don't you feel lucky?

Back in junior high, and even before that, probably starting when she was 8 or so, Shannon used to pitch. She used to like to pitch, and she was pretty good at it. However, when she was in junior high, she developed a dislike for pitching (probably because it's a lot of pressure), decided she didn't want to pitch anymore, and she was very happy playing first base.

Now she's on her high school's Level III (mainly freshman, but some sophomores too) team, she starts at first base and is quite content doing so. However, one Saturday they had a tournament where they played more than one game. They really only have one pitcher on this team, Alex. So when they had two games, Shannon pitched one of the games because Alex's arm was really tired. Shannon hadn't pitched since 7th grade, so two years. It didn't go so well. They did win the game because the other team was really bad, but she walked quite a few batters and the final was like 16-12. At that point, I think the coach realized that Shannon pitching wasn't a great option.

Fast forward to yesterday's game. Alex was out with a sore arm. So they brought some girl down from the JV team to pitch for the Level III team. This is allowed because I think this girl is a sophomore. Anyway, this girl was quite obviously NOT happy about being made to pitch for the "freshman" team. It was totally beneath her, you know? She had a bad attitude from the first pitch. She clearly did not care anything about this team or the game. Our team was the visitors, and we scored three runs in the first inning. The other team scored 4 in the bottom of the first, mainly because this pitcher walked almost everyone. She just was clearly not trying and did not care. During the next several innings, our girls scored 4 more runs, but this pitcher walked so many batters, and hit about five batters as well, that by the bottom of the fourth inning the score was like 18-7. I cannot even tell you how many runs she walked in, because I lost count. Not only that, but when the bases were loaded and she threw a wild pitch? She didn't even run up to cover the plate. She just kind of stood there halfway between the pitcher's circle and home plate. The catcher ran back to get the ball, tossed it to home plate, and there was no one there.

I guess the coach finally got fed up and put Shannon in to pitch. The snotty pitcher went to Shannon's position, 1st base, where she proceeded to stand there with her glove over her eyes, other hand on hip. The bases were loaded and there were no outs. Shannon got FIVE warm up pitches. She did walk the first batter, but after that, she settled down. Second batter hit a grounder right back to her, and she threw it home for the force. One out. Next batter hit a grounder to the third baseman, who threw it home again for the force out. Next batter after that? Shannon struck her out. All the parents around me were cheering and saying what a great job she did. I was really proud.

Shannon, however? She was so mad about the game that she couldn't even be happy about the way she pitched. She is tired of being on a team where she feels like she's busting her ass and giving 100%, and everyone else is just going through the motions. I don't want her to get so frustrated that she decides not to play next year, because she's really good and I know she loves the game and it would be a shame if she didn't play. But she's tired of playing on crappy teams. I can't even tell you how mad she was at that girl they brought down to pitch. She said she would have rather pitched the game herself than have someone out there who didn't care. But no one knew that girl was going to be like that until the game started.

I keep telling her that there are only two weeks left, just to keep giving it her all, and if she keeps giving 100% and being the team leader/cheerleader, that she WILL get noticed at tryouts next year, and maybe even make varsity, which is where she wants to be. It's frustrating to watch her lose interest and faith in a game she loves so much.

What would you tell her?

The Last Day of Summer

2009-09-21T09:26:00.007-07:00

So yesterday it was 80 degrees, and we knew there was a cold front coming, but I wasn't exactly expecting this! I can't stop watching it...yes, I'm from Arizona. Lish is going to call me a geek at some point, I think. In case you can't tell because the video is kind of small...yes, it's snowing!

Kanye Just Can't Leave It Alone...

2009-09-19T18:39:00.002-07:00

Ok, what he did to Taylor Swift was really wrong, but honestly? She seems like a nice girl but I don't really like country music, so I didn't care too much.

But now?

He's crossed the line.

O Rly?

2009-09-16T12:36:00.004-07:00

I was driving Shannon to school this morning, and on the way home I was behind a pickup truck that had both of these bumper stickers on the back windshield, one in each lower corner:

I guess "Braggy Asshole" was too many letters?

Seven

2009-09-03T07:43:00.001-07:00

It just doesn't seem possible. Where does the time go? This is my baby, the last one, how is she seven already? Happy Birthday, Kylie!

Two Years And Counting

2009-09-01T13:05:00.002-07:00

September 1st, it's my blogiversary! Yay!

I thought of the title because Michelle Duggar just had to upstage me and announce the impending arrival of her 19th child today. Now they have to change the name of their show. Again. Michelle and Jim Bob are going to be grandparents, though, before they're parents of #19. That's what they should call the kid, Number Nineteen. They must be out of "J" names by now.

Jim Bob and Michelle said they were "surprised" by the latest pregnancy. Really, you two? Really? You've been doing it like rabbits since the day you were married, and 17 times previously (I know there's at least one set of twins in there) it's resulted in a baby. And this time, you're surprised? They do know what causes that now, you know.

Anyway, I don't know why I'm writing about the Duggars on my blogiversary. Probably because I don't really have anything else to write about.

Why did I start blogging? Hmmm...well, I was motivated by my friend Pam, who has since given blogging for Facebook. I think a lot of people have. Honestly, it's a lot easier to write a couple of sentences than a whole post. Especially when nothing much ever changes.

It's funny how I say that nothing ever changes, because in the last year we've uprooted our family to a new state, left our oldest behind to finish high school and live with my parents, and started a whole new life. Which looks a lot like my old life, except with rain and mountains and green instead of searing heat, cacti and dirt. The setting is different, the main characters are the same. Except for my friends. My heart aches when I go to the playground with Kylie, and I see other moms sitting in pairs or in groups, and I'm sitting by myself.

I have no idea where this is going. But I know where I'm going...time to go pick up a child from school. You see, nothing really changes very much.

Danni and my mom will be here on Thursday for Labor Day weekend and Kylie's birthday. I can't wait to see my girl. I miss her.

Sorry this isn't more exciting. I'm not feeling so exciting at the moment. I went grocery shopping to celebrate this momentous day. Woot! I need a job, I think.

I'm Just Sayin'...

2009-08-24T08:21:00.005-07:00

There's only one thing that's always bothered me about this commercial. That should totally be a MOM sailing down the aisle, riding on her cart in blissful joyfulness. A dad? Right.

So after the gas leak/school evacuation thing at the high school on Friday, all is well and they started school today, as planned. They now think it was a prank. Like someone sprayed some mace into one of the air vents. Funny, right? Yeah.

Here's a crazy thing. The high school starts at 7:15am. The elementary school? 9:10am. For those of you who are math-challenged (like me), that's nearly a TWO HOUR difference.

Why?

I'll tell you why. I think the privately run before-school program has a deal with the school district. If both parents work, you pretty much have no choice but to pay for the before-school care if they don't start until 9:10am. So the school gets a kickback from the before-school people from all the extra kids they get by starting school so late...see how that works?

This morning, I dropped Shannon off around 7am, came home, got in the shower, made breakfast for Kylie, made her lunch, unloaded the dishwasher, got her dressed, hair and teeth brushed, got myself all ready, made sure she had her backpack and supplies...and it was 8:05am. So the next hour went like this:

"Can we go now?"

"Not yet, we still have like an hour."

Five minutes later:

"Can we go now?"

"Kylie, it's still like 55 minutes until your first bell.

Five minutes later:

"Mom! Can we go now? I want to play on the playground!"

"We'll go in a little while, why don't you ... um... feed the dogs."

Five minutes later:

"MOM, CAN WE GO NOW?"

Ad nausem. I managed to hold her back until 8:40am, and then we walked over to the school. Of course, we were one of the first people there. Also of course, I forgot my camera. So while all the other moms were there with their Cannon Rebels and their Nikon DWhatevers, I present my first grader on her first day...taken with my cell phone.

So let's see...Shannon gets out at 2:27pm, Kylie gets out at 3:40pm, Shannon has softball practice at 4:30pm that goes until 6:30pm.

Now I need to look for a job. Well, tomorrow I do. Today I will contemplate what sort of job will let me work from 9:30am to 2pm, but still have 40 hours a week, and full benefits. That shouldn't be too hard, right?

Dear Blog

2009-08-22T12:44:00.006-07:00

I'm so sorry. I know I've been neglecting you. But you see, there's all this stuff going on. Life stuff.

I'm bankrupting our family by buying school supplies and paying school fees. Taking the little one for reading placement testing. (She did well!)

Then Shannon had her first day of high school. Well, it was a first day for freshman only. Freshman get to have their first day by themselves, with no upper-class harassment. I think it's a good idea. The first real day of school is Monday. Well, maybe. Because while the freshman were there on Friday, this happened.

Luckily, Shannon was in a different wing from where the leak was. The school is supposed to notify parents by Sunday afternoon if school will be starting on Monday or not. If not, I think I may have to commit...something bad. At least I know for sure Kylie will be starting Monday.

Here is the obligatory first-day-of-school picture, which Shannon vehemently asked me not to post online.

I don't know why Luke is eating her foot, but she doesn't seem to mind.

In between all the school-fee paying and supply-buying and testing and registering, there were high school softball camps and tryouts. Shannon made the team. Woo! Right now she's at an overnight bonding thing with the team at Winter Park Resort Lodge, which is a ski resort when it's not summer. Why don't I get to go to places like that? With wine? Not that the high school softball team is going to be drinking wine, but a place called Winter Park Resort Lodge is just begging for cocktail hour, if you ask me.

I've also been starting to think about kind of looking for a job, sort of.

And then, there's this other thing that's been going on. They say the first step to overcoming an addiction is admitting it. Well, I'm admitting it. I have an addiction.

It's called Farmtown. I knew Facebook was going to be the downfall of civilization. My name is Shelley, and I'm a ... farmaholic?

See my farm? Isn't it pretty? Click on it for a bigger view. Right now I have peppers ready to harvest, and the pumpkins will be ready in a day or so. I have a house and a barn. And near the barn, flowers that spell out "ASU". The name of my farm is Sun Devil Farms of CO. And my avatar? Her name is Sparky. I am constantly thinking of ways that I could remodel my farm. I know this is all insane. I have a problem. Please send help.

PS. If anyone else has a similar problem with Farmtown, please let me know. ~~I only need two more farm neighbors before I can hire other people to plow my fields.~~ Maybe we can go to therapy together.

Please Excuse My Swooning

2009-08-12T22:35:00.007-07:00

Dear Loving Husband,

There's no need for you to read this post. Really, it's about nothing. Just move along, and continue with what you're doing. This is just pointless rambling. Have a great day! Love ya!

Is he gone?

Ok.

I'm worried about something, and I have to share it with you all.

You see, ever since I saw the movie "Troy", I've had this huge crush on Eric Bana.

He played Hector in the movie, Prince of Troy, King Priam's oldest son. Other people have told me that Brad Pitt was in that film, but you couldn't prove it by me. No wait...Brad Pitt was the one that KILLED Hector. That bastard. I never have liked him that much.

Seriously, is he yummy, or what? I'm watching him on Craig Ferguson's show right now, and holy Australian accent people, could he be any hotter?

So here is my fear. On Friday, the movie "The Time Traveler's Wife" is opening. It's based on a best-selling novel, which I have not yet read, but I have on hold at the library. I think I'm number 183 in line. I might have to bite the financial bullet and visit Barnes and Noble.

What's going to happen soon is that women all over this country, and probably several other countries, are going to fall in love with this man because of this movie. And I LOVED HIM FIRST.

I do not even know if I'm going to be able to go see this movie. First of all, the freaking TRAILER made me cry. Secondly, I have no friends here, and heaven knows my husband would never see this type of movie. (Even though I went to see Shooter, for Pete's sake.)

Maybe it's best I see it alone. My box of tissues and me. We will see it together. It will be my reward on the first day of school, I think.

Remember, he's mine. I just didn't want you to forget.

Perhaps Some Oil Of Olay Is In Order

2009-08-09T17:42:00.006-07:00

My life is over.

A few days ago, my mother called saying that my brother asked if we could do a three-way Skype call on Sunday at 5pm. Three way, meaning my parents, us, and my brother, his wife, and my adorable three and a half year-old niece, Makenzie. My brother lives in North Carolina, and we haven't seen Makenzie in person since she was about 9 months old. Sure, I say...sounds great.

Well, we got on the video cam. When I say we, I mean Shannon and Kylie. I wanted Makenzie to be able to see her cousins. Through the course of trying the Skype thing, we discovered that you can't do a three-way video call without some sort of third-party software. We could all hear each other, but we couldn't see video. My brother said he'd play around with it at work this week and figure something out.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is this. My mom decided to get off the call, so we could just have Kylie and Makenzie talk to each other. Shannon sat in the chair with Kylie on her lap, and they were talking. At some point, Kylie got up and ran off, because she's kind of like a bunny on crack. Then, Shannon decided to go downstairs and get her rabbit to show Makenzie. So the camera is on an empty chair. Reluctantly, I got off the couch and plopped down in the chair. Next thing I know, Makenzie shouts, "Mimi!"

Ok, "Mimi" is my mother. That's me over there at the right. I'm no beauty queen, but I didn't think I looked 72 years old either.

After we ended the call, I went to my husband, crestfallen, and told him that Makenzie had mistaken me for my mother. Ever the loving husband, he told me that Makenzie is only 3 years old, the video quality isn't the best, it's kind of dark in this room where the computer is, and Makenzie just recently saw my mother because my parents visited NC a couple of weeks ago. My mother has short, curly dark brown and gray hair and wears glasses, and I have long, straight light brown (ok, and a LITTLE BIT of gray) hair and I don't wear glasses and of course I don't look like my 72 year old mother.

Wait.

I mean, that's what he SHOULD have said. What he actually did was pull his baseball cap down over his face, shoulders shaking, and tried to make it seem like he wasn't LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF.

Then when he could talk again, he said everything above. Actually, I said it, and then he agreed with me.

I hate him. Someone shoot me.

A Day In My Life, In Pictures

2009-08-02T08:45:00.018-07:00

As I mentioned yesterday, I decided to take June Gardens of Bye Bye, Pie! up on her challenge to photograph a day in your life. Here, in pictures, is August 1st, 2009. Try not to explode from all the excitement in the following story.

Wait, before I start...I have had this blog for almost two years now, and would you believe I just now, this morning, discovered that you can upload MORE than one picture at a time? In fact, Blogger lets you upload FIVE pictures at a time. But there's a sneaky blue link you have to click that says "add another image?". I never noticed that link before. But today, I did for some reason. I clicked it, and another "browse" box opened up. And then another, and another, and another. Wow. I'm a moron.

Anyway.

Every morning, Kylie comes into my bedroom to let me know she's up. Since it's summer, we've been going to bed pretty late. Therefore, she sleeps late. In this case, on this Saturday morning, late was about 9am. Good morning, Sunshine.

This is my breakfast. Yes, I'm a gourmet food snob, as you can tell. Actually, what I would have liked is a couple of eggs and a couple pieces of wheat toast. But I didn't want to cook it.

Next, I checked my email, and read a few of my favorite blogs.

I really like my new neighborhood. The people are friendly, and everything is green.

We decided last night that we were going to go to the farmer's market that is held every Saturday in the parking lot of the mall. We were also going to the thrift store to see if we could find a cheapo vacuum to keep in the basement. The bunny's hutch is in the basement, along with Shannon's bedroom, and there always seems to be a lot of hay and pine bedding on the floor down there. And I hate carrying dang vacuums up and down stairs. Plus, I don't want my good vacuum all clogged up with hay and pine bedding.

We asked Shannon last night if she wanted to go with us. She wavered, then said no. She stays up most of the night texting her friends back home, so she tends to sleep all morning. What the hey, it's summer.

While Kylie was waiting for us to get in gear, she decorated our driveway with chalk drawings.

There's my neighbor, Jenny, doing some sort of yard work. Yuck. Hi Jenny! She has two kids that Kylie plays with. Madden is four, and Mia is three. There seems to be an overabundance of small children on our street. Which is nice, because Kylie always seems to be playing at someone else's house. Yeah, I'm that mom.

This is the road that leads out of our...neighborhood, I guess you would call it. Subdivision? Valley? We live behind some hogbacks, which are hills that are smaller than foothills. Have you ever heard of hogbacks? I hadn't, until we moved here. Sometimes you see a deer or two in the grass along the side of the road. But since I actually had my camera with me today...no deer.

Here we are at the farmer's market. I had never really been to a farmer's market before. There were all sorts of vendors set up under the tents, selling things from fresh fruits and vegetables, to pasta, honey, baskets, etc. For some reason, I thought the stuff here would be dirt cheap, like cheaper than the grocery store. I was wrong.

I really liked the look of this multi-colored pasta. Did I buy any? Nope. Not because of the price, but because no one else in my stupid, picky-as-hell family would have eaten any of it. Honestly, getting these people to try anything new is...well, it's impossible, is what it is. I couldn't even get the husband to try a sample of apple-cinnamon butter on a cracker. And damn, it was GOOD. I'm going to guess right here that there is a reason that they are all skinny, and I am not. They won't eat anything.

I sampled some of the cantaloupe. It was delicious! I should have bought some, but it's cheaper at the grocery store. Actually, I buy a lot of my fruits and vegetables at Sunflower Market, which is WAY cheaper than this was. When I go shopping this week, I'm definitely getting some cantaloupe. And I'll eat it all by myself. Because no one else likes it, of course. Dumb family.

The only thing we actually bought at the farmer's market was a snow cone for Kylie.

Although I'm glad she had the snow cone, because after sampling some salsa at another booth, I had to use said snow cone to cool off my burning mouth!

After we left the farmer's market, we went across the street to the ARC thrift store. We were here for a vacuum. We left with some clothes for Kylie, some khakis for Steve, a desk for Kylie's room, and a bowling game. Everything was 1/2 price! The desk and chair together came to $5. The one thing we did not leave with? A vacuum.

We decided to go to Goodwill, to look for a vacuum. Our route to Goodwill took us past Columbine high school. Did you know that Steve went to Columbine? He was in the class of 1984. They have a huge alumni group. According to him, their class purchased this stone sign. Sorry it's a little blurry; I was in a moving car. In case you can't read it, it says "Columbine High School, Home of the Rebels."

The park that Kylie and I go to a lot is called Clement Park. It's huge, and it's next to the high school on one side. There's a memorial there for the students and teacher who were killed. I'll have to take some pictures and post about that someday.

Right before we got to Goodwill, I decided that I was going to die if I didn't have a Diet Coke. I needed one, RIGHT NOW. So my wonderful husband stopped at Subway. I got my Diet Coke. Kylie had to have a sandwich. See the reflection of my gas bill on the dashboard? Guess how much my gas bill is right now? The only thing we're using gas for right now is the water heater. That particular bill is for $17.97. I'm sure it will go up in the winter. A lot.

In Colorado, there are bike riders EVERYWHERE. I mean really, everywhere. I thought the Columbine was the state flower, but now I'm pretty convinced that it's the Schwinn.

Look, there's another one. I've ridden my old, decrepit bike here. Once. The problem is, there are no flat areas. Going downhill is fun, but no exercise. Going uphill is way too hard. Going uphill at 5280 ft in elevation is something that I just can't do. Remember my post when I said that Colorado is the skinniest state, and that I'd lose weight here just by being near all the skinny people? That hasn't happened so much, just yet.

We got home at around 1:30pm. I went down to the basement, and look what I found. Still asleep. Dang teenagers.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Kylie is playing with her new $1.50 bowling game from Goodwill. After we took it out of the bag, we discovered why someone gave it to Goodwill. There is a pin missing. Which actually works out ok for me. See, I just leave the 10 pin out of the rack, because I usually miss the dang thing anything.

This is the desk we got for Kylie's room. Ok, so it's plastic and in primary colors, but for $5 for the desk and chair together, she now has a place in her room to sit and color, write, draw, etc.

I knew there would be laundry in here at some point. Ewww, that is a nasty-looking, dreary picture. My laundry room is in the basement. It's the only part of the basement that isn't finished.

Oh my, look who's awake. The laundry room is right next to Shannon's bathroom in the basement. So I'm in the laundry room, and with the washer and dryer going, she can't hear me take her picture. She can't see me from this angle either. Which is good, because I'm pretty sure she would not have approved of this picture. She's sitting on her vanity, facing the mirror, doing...something to her hair.

This is Splatter, the lop bunny who lives in the basement. The aforementioned reason for the $10 vacuum we got at Goodwill. Don't you think Rorschach would have been a good name for her?

A day would not be complete around here without time spent lying on the floor, playing with the dogs. Then complaining loudly about the dog jumping on you and trying to eat your shoe. Even though you're lying on the floor and sticking your foot in his face.

I'm sure there must be a good reason why Shannon had Luke in a headlock.

"No, Luke! Don't eat me! Help!"

"Awwww, you're a good boy, aren't you? Yes you are."

Bo is older and not quite as ready to play at a moment's notice. Which is why he makes a better pillow than Luke.

Look, somewhere between those last two pictures, Shannon decided to change out of her pajamas. It's only about 4 in the afternoon. Actually, upon closer inspection, she didn't so much change as she just put on more clothes over the clothes she was already wearing.

"Ok, old man...you wanna go?"

Shannon gets down on the floor to get things going between the two dogs. The antagonist, if you will.

Oh yeah...it's on! The WWE world wrestling...dog...thing.

These are our next-door neighbors, Zoe and Clark. Zoe is the same age as Kylie. I was hoping maybe they'd be in the same first grade class, but since I found out there are SIX first grades at the school, the odds are probably not good. There are actually two elementary schools for this area. One is a primary school that has K-3, and the other is an intermediate school that has grades 4-6. Have I mentioned there are about a bazillion kids around here?

Kylie plays with these two about three times a day. They're nice kids. Nice family. They just moved here too, after we did actually. They're playing with some ball with a tail attached that their mom had found at a garage sale earlier in the day. You throw it, and it bounces and flies all over the place.

Please notice that my daughter is playing in the street in the brand new socks that I just bought on Friday. Not shoes, not bare feet, but socks that will never be white again. I'm just saying.

I made a quick run to the grocery store, and noticed this in my van. This can't be good. I think I'll do what I did the last time that light came on. Ignore it until it goes away. Hey, it worked last time.

This little thing was the bane of my existence yesterday evening. On Friday, we went to Taco bell and Kylie got a kids' meal with a toy. The toy was this thing where when you turn it on and shake it, it sounds like a guitar playing the first three notes of "Smoke on the Water." Dun Dun DUNNNNNNN!!! So I was sick of that after about five minutes.

Yesterday, Kylie told us that she gave that toy to Clark, the boy in the picture a little ways up. But guess what Clark gave her in return? Oh yeah, Dr. Fart. You push that little yellow button, and Dr. Fart makes lovely fart noises. There are six different fart noises. I know, because we counted them. I'm so glad it's a keychain. Because that's something you'd want to carry with you everywhere. Mysteriously, Dr. Fart is missing this morning. I didn't take it, and I don't think Steve did either. I'm suspecting Shannon hid it, but I have no proof. Yet.

Well, it's getting late. 6:28pm, according to the stove. In my continuing attempts to burn the house down, I made dinner.

I decided to make Shepherd's Pie. It's easy, quick, and some of us will actually eat it. I have to explain the stove. Several days ago, I came home from the grocery store and put some plastic bags up on the stove. As I did this, I must have accidentally hit the knob that turns on that back right burner. Because the next thing I know, there is smoke and burning plastic bag. I haven't been able to get the burned plastic off just yet.

Then, in the process of making my Shepherd's Pie, this happened. This is the only dish for which I will use instant mashed potatoes. They just seem to spread over the top better. The bag said it's better to add the boiling water to the potato flakes, instead of adding the potato flakes to the boiling water, because of overflow. I swear, I always add the flakes to boiling water, and this has NEVER happened before. Must be the altitude. Ha.

While I was busy trying to burn up my stove, the kids were out in the garage, contemplating life, with ice pops. Yes, I drive that big ugly brown van. Trust me, no one is sorrier than I am.

Please note that while I have gotten my Colorado license plate (which does look normal in real life, I just messed it up for the picture, because it seems that's what you're supposed to do), I still keep my Arizona State University decals in the window. And I will forever. Amen.

Somehow, Kylie talked Dad and Shannon into playing the bowling game with her. Well, she and Dad are playing, and Shannon is texting. But she's near them, which equates to family time. Why they are lying in the hallway at the top of the stairs playing this game, you might ask? I have no idea.

Despite my burned up stovetop, the Shepherd's Pie was really good.

The End.

Is anyone still awake? Anyone? Bueller?

An Idea, And An Award

2009-08-01T13:00:00.006-07:00

I've found that lately I have nothing to write about. No ideas, especially not any funny ones. Rabbit drama has been done to death, I think...even though the two large brown rabbits have been traded in (too much work, too old, didn't bond) for an 8 month old black and white lop named Splatter. She already had the name. We thought of a bunch of others (I liked Rorschach myself, but no one else got it), so she's still Splatter. She looks like a white bunny with black splattered on her.

Anyway, the point is, I have nothing to write about. So I thought I'd take an idea from June Gardens and do a "day-in-the-life" post, with pictures. June is taking on this project today, and challenged her readers to do the same. Do yourself a favor, and check out her blog tomorrow, because I'm sure her day will be much more fun than mine. Even if it isn't...her commentary will be hilarious.

I think what I'm going to discover is that my life is pretty boring. But I really have nothing else to do on a Saturday than take pictures of what we're doing. I'm sure there'll be at least one laundry picture. I'm telling you...I'm a fun magnet.

On a completely different note, Lori at The Peterson Family gave me an award, which was so sweet of her:

Thanks, Lori! Please check out her blog...she has some amazing pictures of from The Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis in a recent post.

And tune in tomorrow, for a day in my life...with pictures. Woohoo.

Senior

2009-07-27T07:20:00.004-07:00

I've always taken a picture of the kids on their first day of school. It's like a tradition. It's ~~sad~~ fun to see how they've changed over the years.

Here's Danni on her first day of 8th grade, 2005.

Today is the first day of her senior year. And I'm not there to take a picture today. But she was here visiting last week, which is when I took this picture. So I figured that was close enough. I will refer to this as her first day of school pic, senior year. Even though it was on Saturday.

Of course, Kylie had to get in on the action. Even though her first day of school isn't for another month. ~~God help me.~~

When Danni started 7th grade, my mother said,

"I remember when you started 7th grade. I turned around, and you were graduating from high school. It goes that fast."

You know what? She was right.

Spongebob Lego Pants

2009-07-24T08:09:00.005-07:00

Does anyone want to buy a 14 year-old with an attitude? I'm selling her cheap. I've heard rumors that she's nice to people that aren't me. She'll even clean when she's in the mood (read: bored.) But she's unreasonable, ungrateful, and just a general pain in the ass. She's cute though. And as I mentioned, I've heard she's nice to people not named Me. Takers? Anyone?

Yesterday we went shopping. Kylie needed a new backpack and lunchbox for school, which doesn't start for another month, and the two older girls ~~needed~~ wanted some clothes. I gave each of them a set amount of money to spend and sent them off.

Meanwhile, Kylie and I visited Payless for some shoes, then the Lego store.

Spongebob made of Legos! Kylie is 44" tall, so that gives you an idea of how big Spongebob was. They are having a contest where you guess how many Legos it took to build this thing. I have no idea what the prize is, but I thought it would be fun to guess anyway.

I counted the number of Legos in one row across the front of his head, across the side of his head, the from the top of the head down to the bottom of the shorts. LxWxH, right? Did the math on the back of the entry form. Then Kylie mentioned the legs. Crap! So I added some more...and I wrote down 42,168. Think I'll win?

As for the clothes, neither one of them found anything they liked, but at least Danni tried stuff on. The other one just stood around, rolled her eyes and gave me death glares when I dared make a suggestion. For example, she likes skinny jeans. Wet Seal had some skinny jeans for $10. But they "looked weird." Eyeroll. Even though they're the same kind of jeans she always wears. Is there some sort of unwritten rule that if it's on sale, they will automatically turn their noses up at it, no matter what it is? I took the money back from her when we got home. ~~Little shit.~~ I mean, don't you want her for your very own?