Locking Down

My oldest is in 8th grade. He was a month from being born when the Oklahoma bombing tore at the heart of the nation. He was only two when the infamous Columbine shooting occurred. He was a first grader when the world froze in horror at the 9/11attacks. And, even though these terrors were painful for me, they were still a world away.

Somewhere along the line… somewhere in the decade between the end of my public school career and the start of my firstborn’s, schools started to make a shift.

Lockdown drills began.

Educators began preparing themselves for the unthinkable. Making plans for “what ifs” and “God forbids.”

I have occasionally heard about the lockdown drills from my children and I have heard about actual lockdowns that have happened at school. They don’t seem particularly bothered by them. And, I have been grateful for a plan in place. But I never have known what was involved.

The other day, while at my child’s school to volunteer, they announced an Attendance Lockdown Drill. I was in the media center at the time and was urgently guided to the gathering spot. A small corner, far away from any windows.

An entire first grade class, which was there for library, crowded and crouched into a small little corner. Pushed back by their peers in front of them, they squeezed into a space the size of a king size bed – away from any windows.

Within seconds, another first grade class came in. They had been in the gym for PE and this was where they were supposed to go. It happened to be T’s class. Soon, this class also crowded and crouched into the same small corner.

Lights went out. Doors were locked. Students were firmly directed not to make any noise – which surprisingly enough, they didn’t. Teachers called roll on the breath of a whisper.
I was stunned. I had heard about these drills. But I never have experienced one.

It was sobering.

Suddenly, those tragedies that inspired these lockdown drills became very real. And very close to home.

I looked over at my little boy, in the front of the “child pile”, and realized that if there had been a shooter, he would be one of the first ones picked off. While a huge part of me wanted to take each of my kids aside later and tell them to hide in the back of the “pile”, I had to remember that living isn’t just about survival, it is about looking out for your fellow man. And if I taught my child to lookout only for himself, how could I teach him to care for those around him?

A friend of mine, also volunteering at the time, came through the supposedly locked doors. She had been stuck in the hall and was just trying to find a place to go. The librarian was surprised and quickly went to re-lock the door. For good this time. Again, I was really glad this was just a drill and the person entering uninvited was my friend, not a shooter.

I am grateful that a plan is in place at my child’s school. But I am so sad that our world today has to practice for man-made tragedies. What does it say about us as a human race if we have to prepare our children for these things?

I am so grateful that the majority of the teachers at my child’s school, I am confident, would protect and defend my children. Comforting them if necessary. But I am sad that has become one of the unwritten job requirements.

I listened as a teacher explained over and over that they weren’t doing these drills to scare them. Just to be prepared and safe. She said it so many times that I wondered if maybe I should be scared.

The experience wasn’t traumatic. It was very orderly and calm, aside from the urgency in the teacher’s voices. Just sobering. Real.

It makes me wonder what I am sending my sweet little children out into each day: the lion’s den?

How are the lockdown drills at your child’s school? Do your children talk about them? Are you glad they have them? I am interested in knowing how others feel about lockdowns, drills and otherwise.

Three Years Ago Today...

... I was laying in my warm bed when I was awakened at 5AM to the sound of a ringing telephone. I rolled my morning sick belly over to answer.

“Your mom is sick. We are sending her in an ambulance to the hospital. Her vital signs are low. She has an infection of some sort…” It was a call from her care center.

I grabbed the quickest food I could find, a bag of sugar snap peas… my latest craving. I found my mom on a gurney in the Emergency Room lobby, with an EMT at her side. “Her vitals are low,” he said.

Only moments later, they had us in a curtained room.

I told my mom over and over, “Don’t worry. It’s going to be OK.” I must have been saying it a lot because my mom just all of a sudden perked up and said in an irritated tone, “What’s going to be ok?”

I didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t really know.

Doctors and nurses came in. EKG. Blood draw. Vitals checked.

Her blood pressure was alarmingly low.

I heard the doctor say something about making her comfortable but I still didn’t get it.

I felt dizzy.

I wanted to throw up. I felt like lying down.

While the nurses attended to some personal matters for my mom, I left the room to give her some privacy.

I called my brother in Utah, “Please come right now! I can’t do this alone.”

I called my 9 month pregnant sister. “Mom is sick, it doesn’t look good.”

But I didn’t get it.

I called my other siblings, said mom was back in the hospital. I would keep them posted.

I sat by mom a while. I ate my sugar snap peas, trying to ignore my morning sickness. It didn’t work. Mom was in good spirits. She kept making jokes. The morphine was kicking in and mom was beginning to relax.

It was after lunch time now. I was sick with pregnancy from not eating much and so tired. The nurse told me mom would sleep a while and to go home and get some rest. My mom said I should too.

So I did, because I didn't get it.

I left my mom and went home. I ate lunch. I laid on my couch. A couple hours later, I felt an urgency to get back to the hospital. After making arrangements for the kids, I drove the 10 minutes to the hospital.

When I arrived at the hospital there was a nurse and someone else in the room. She turned out to be a grief counselor of sorts.

“Your mom stopped breathing almost 15 minutes ago. Her heart is still beating. She must have been waiting for you.”

I didn’t know what to do. I could only think to call my brother. He was in the airport, on the way here. I went back to my mom. Watching the vitals monitor track her weakening heart beat.

I could only think to call my sister.

I didn’t get it.

Finally, it occurred to me I needed to get off the phone.

I held my mom’s hand and told her I loved her.

Her heart stopped beating and I finally got it.

Five and a half short months after the passing of my daddy, my mom went to join him.

They were happy.

Four days later, my pregnant sister gave birth to a gorgeous baby on the day of my mom’s funeral. And I was blessed with a little girl from my pregnancy, just like my mom had guessed.

Three years ago today, I lost my mom and I still think of her every day.

Not in a mournful way, mostly happy memories. Sometimes longing for her to be here. Always grateful for forever families!

Even though my mom and I never had the smoothest relationship, I loved her dearly. And still do. I am so grateful for a mom who taught me to love Heavenly Father and to trust in Him. I am thankful for a mother that sang stupid songs to wake me up in the morning and would embarass me by dancing in the kitchen in front of my friends. I am so grateful for a mom who let me dream and encouraged me to be whatever I wanted. Grateful for a mother who made our home what it was. Now that I am a mom, I know how diffucult it is and I appreciate her efforts even more. I am grateful for a mom that gave me opportunites to grow into who I am.

I love you, Mom! I miss you!

Go hug your mom today!

She is really on a roll!

Four great reasons not to leave lotion within arms reach of a

two year old...

Sugar Strike -- ummm, reduction!

A couple weeks ago, someone mentioned in church something about great miracles taking place because of sacrifice.

I immediately thought of my sister, settled in Colorado, so far away from me, and wished that could be the miracle… a change in our proximity to each other.

I thought about what kind of sacrifice I could make. And if it would really make a difference. But, the more I thought about it, I figured why not?

What is one thing that I love almost as much as my sister? Sugar. Junk sugar. Pastries, candy bars, brownies… all that good stuff.

So, my brain put together a plan. Why not have a sugar strike? I decided that I would go without JUNK SUGAR until we were living close to each other. What's the worst that can happen? I could get healthy, right?

On many levels it is kind of silly. Really, do I think withholding an Almond Joy is going to make my sister and her family move here? Will giving up lemon bars cause her hubby’s work to promote him to a far better position here in the Phoenix area? Probably not. And realistically, they are quite happily settled in those cold Rocky Mountains. As we are here in Sunny Arizona.

But, if by some strange chance, saying no to a brownie would mean I get to live by my sister, I am going to totally give up the brownie. Because, really, I do love my sister more than chocolate.

Now, I am not going crazy… I am not talking about ketchup, peanut butter and fruit. I am talking about downright sugary junk food. Those yummy things I pick up in the checkout line at Wal-Mart or at the bakery.

And, knowing myself too well, I have given myself two “give-in” foods. Pure maple syrup (for our traditional weekly waffles) and chocolate covered strawberries (half of them are good for you)! And of course Amish Friendship Bread is OK too.

I forgot about the strike when we went to the movies the other night. I ordered a Sprite and Red Vines… thankfully Hubby reminded me. I quickly asked her to change the Sprite to a water and took the Red Vines off. It confused our teenaged cashier, but I did it.

So, wish me luck. Who knows, maybe someone will need a rocket scientist in Arizona.

Painful Discovery in Finding Joy

Thomas S Monson gave a General Conference address about “Finding Joy in the Journey.” This talk was the basis for our lesson today in Relief Society and it really got me thinking.

While I was sitting listening to the lesson, I thought about what it meant. Certainly, he couldn’t have meant blogging the day away. Even though that can be a worthwhile activity, it can also take away from important things. Even great things, noble activities, can take away from far better things if you let them.

I know I don’t enjoy time with the children enough.

I have things I want to do. Things I want to accomplish.

And then things I HAVE to do; HAVE to accomplish.

So, if things HAVE to get done. Then that leaves very little time left to spend on things I would like to do. AND when it comes right down to it, I would so rather play with my camera or sew a quilt than build a Bionicle or play Chutes and Ladders.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy my children; it just seems that time is so scarce and I guess I am being a little selfish. I wonder why I have such a difficult time having fun doing some of these little things.

So what I came away thinking about was how can I enjoy the journey when I am doing things that are second on my”want-to-do” list? Sometimes I feel like there is no common ground with my children. I am not into the same things they are and have more fun doing my own things. My hobbies are more solo deals – not meant for two people. And their hobbies – like video games – I have no interest in.

I need to find out how to have fun just hanging out with the kids, no matter what. Sometimes I do, just not all the time. There have been days when we have built forts, played cars, built trains, played with playdough and I have loved it. Some days hanging outside is all we need to do. But most of the time, I have this lagging feeling that something needs to get done.

Be done.

Get checked off.

And I am not even talking about the stuff that I HAVE to do.

I love my children dearly. And the favorite parts of my day are when they give me hugs or tell me about their day. But I need to find a better way to connect with them.

How can I get my actions to coincide with how I feel about them?

How can I enjoy the journey with them just a little more?

Also during the lesson, I had a distinct impression that I need to help my children learn how to find joy in the journey. Help them grab on to life so it doesn’t pass them by. Maybe I felt this so I can learn it myself. I know our Heavenly Father wants to teach this to me… I just need to listen.

UNEXPECTED

I recently had reason to call Shutterfly to rectify a mistaken charge. I received the standard recorded greeting...

"Thank you for calling Shutterfly customer service..."

Then like many other businesses, I was given different options to press...

"Press 1 for order status"

"Press 2 for questions about an order you have received"

And on it went, with me half listening, until option 6.

"Press 6 to have a pirate read these options."

WHAT???!!! Did I hear that right?

I did what any normal human being would have done, I pressed 6.

And guess what? I got to hear a pirate read the options in pirate language.

It was the most off the wall, unexpected thing I had heard and I was laughing out loud when the Customer Service Rep got on the phone...

I mean, pirates don't have anything to do with Shutterfly... And who even came up with that idea?

So, KUDOS to Shutterfly for making me laugh and catching me off guard!

By the way, if you want to listen, here's the number... its a hoot! 1-888-225-7159

Every artist starts somewhere

B has been my daily pal. When I work on the computer, she is at my side. When I do dishes, she stands at the sink and “cleans” the dishes. When I am doing laundry, she has to be there stuffing it in the washer. She sits at my feet while I sew and urges me to play with her on the swings.

So today, while doing laundry, with her by my side, she started talking to me about the flowers on the wall. Years ago when we moved into this house, my sister and I went a little nuts in the laundry room – as only sisters can do. It is one of my favorite memories with her even if a lot of the paint ended up on my cloths and in my hair. This was the result… a whole little room of daisies.

That was almost 8 years ago and time has taken it’s toll. There are a lot of places that need touched up, so much so that the whole room is going to have to be repainted. But I haven’t wanted to do it because of the memories associated with the room.

I told B that Aunt L helped me paint them. I said Aunt L drew those on the wall for mommy.

Flash forward a few hours…

Tonight, the kids spontaneously sat down to watch Toy Story on that retro machine people used to call a VCR. They were so content looking and settled, I thought I would leave them there while I caught up on something I couldn’t do with B by my side. Ironing.

After about 20 minutes, B came to me with this…

“Here mommy, I give this to you.”

Oh, no!

Expecting the worst, I asked her to show me what she drew on.

“Ok, come show me,” she said while she took me around the house.

There was Hubby’s office desk…

The fish tank…

And of course, the laundry room.

Notice the careful detail in the flowers… just like Aunt L!

Of course it was on her dress, face and hands. But thankfully nothing else. And unbelievably enough, it came off the fish tank and hubby’s desk.

I think I will leave her mark on my laundry wall for a little longer, she worked so hard!

Oh boy, this could have been SO much worse... thank goodness it wasn't!

Laura Petrie and Barack Obama

Remember the Dick van Dyke show? Remember how Laura Petrie would always say she didn’t want to be the one to say “I told you so” to Rob?

Well, I am not that way. I like to be right. In fact, I quite often tell people that I am always right and the world would be a better place if people would just listen to me.

Of course I am teasing… mostly to get a laugh. But there is no question that I love to be right.

But right now, at the close of this historical day, I hope I am wrong. Dead wrong. I don’t want to be right. I want my Obama-loving-brother-in-law to gloat over how wrong I was.

There has been no question of my political affiliation and how I have felt about having Obama as Commander in Chief.

I don’t like the idea.

Without going into detail, I have major concerns over his intentions as president. Between internal conflict with things he says and does and my truck load of conspiracy theories, you can rest assured that I did not vote for him.

That being said, as an American and one who loves “Cinderella” stories, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of respect for the man that beat the odds.

That overcame a history of prejudice to lead the greatest nation in the world.

Today, as I watched Obama being sworn in, I had mixed feelings. I was honored to be able to view history in the making. Amazed at his brilliant campaign and political savvy. Impressed by his intelligence and inspired by what he triumphed over.

And then came a small sense of loss. Loss for loosing President Bush (Yes, I actually liked him and no, I don’t think I will blog about that right now) I felt a hope that maybe, just maybe, Obama’s intentions are good. That he is a God fearing man, that he wants to uphold our constitution. But sad to think that maybe I have been right and he has duped a nation.

But here is what I have decided it comes down to… He is my President. Of my Country.

I may not agree with him. I may not like what he does. But, as an American I feel I must offer my support. Not to say I have to agree with what he does, accept unconstitutional changes or sit idly by while things happen I don’t like. The beauty of our nation is that “We the People” can change things if we need to.

No, I mean offer him my support by other means. And the only way I know to do that is the same way I have done for my other presidents.

Prayer.

There are some benefits that come of praying for our president. First and foremost, it is the toughest job in the nation and no man can do it successfully without divine help. So every president needs our prayers, maybe especially Obama.

Second, you can’t hate someone you are praying for. While I differ so greatly on issues, I can feel peace towards the man that is leading this country.

And, maybe, just maybe I have judged him wrongly. Maybe, he will do good things for our nation.

Let’s hope and Heaven help him.

Octamom posted a beautiful reminder about praying for our president. If you have a minute, check it out.

Days like today...

When there is a holiday my children do everything they can to utilize it to its fullness. I am talking friends! Friends! And more Friends!!!

Of course there was the little task of cleaning bedrooms before they could play. They were even rewarded with a candy bar (I know, bad parenting) when it was clean.

But R and T had no desire to touch their room.

Quite honestly I don’t blame them. I remember from my childhood having a multitude of hamsters… when we failed to clean the cages for a while, it began to stink like… well… dead hamsters.

This was the smell emanating from within the walls of R and T’s bedroom.

And, if this mysterious odor wasn’t bad enough, there were the toys. And blankets. And cloths. And lids to my kitchen pots. And ramen noodles. And apple rinds. And rocks, sand, grape vines… for Pete’s sake. We just cleaned this room a week ago! Ramen noodles???

So, I didn’t blame them when they didn’t want to touch foot in there. But, they couldn’t play with friends – or weren’t supposed to play with friends – until that was done.

I had to call them home a couple times after they secretly made their way to a neighbor’s house.

Overall, they were content to play with each other in order to not have to clean their room.

But suddenly, around 4 o’clock, the entire world just showed up. I was sitting outside with B and her little pal. One by one, kids kept coming through to the back yard. Which thanks to our landscaper and a huge swing set is a mini park (love it).

Everyone was having so much fun and giggling I just couldn’t send anyone home. Including my kiddos, there were 16 children over here. Granted, the two oldest were playing video games inside, but still… it was like a party.

It was so fun to sit outside with all of the neighborhood kids and watch them laugh and have fun. I grabbed a few pictures and hope to add them to this post tomorrow.

And guess what? R and T came right in after their play fest that they weren’t supposed to have and totally cleaned the room – minus the horrible smell. (I really need to shampoo some mattresses!) Of course the candy bar bribe still was hanging over their head so there was that incentive.

Unfortunately, little B came down with a fever tonight. She was crying that her ear hurt. When I tried to leave her on her bed, she would cry out so pathetically, “Mommy, where are you?” I am such a pushover. So I brought her teary little eyes upstairs to my bed and lay down by her. She was half asleep, half awake and would reach over to rub my arm every few minutes to make sure I was still here. Her watery eyes would open half way and her little lips would turn up, just barely, then she would settle back into a fitful sleep. Now, she is sleeping steady and her fever has broken. I can hear her little snores… just so cute. I am sad she is sick, but so grateful that I can be her mommy.

Sometimes, life gives us little gifts. I had many today.

Following Counsel

Our stake president has asked us to do a seemingly simple task.

It has been the goal of our stake for the last year or so.

We are to live our lives in ways that the Lord can use us as an instrument in His hands. Based from a talk given by Henry B Eyring, we have been given 4 tasks.

Plead, Read, Act and Record

Let the first thing you do when you wake be to pray, pleading with Heavenly Father to know the most important thing to do for that day.

Then, before you read anything else (even blogs) read your scriptures.

Act upon any impressions you feel throughout the day… helping a neighbor, taking care of personal items, calling a friend… whatever it is, act on it.

Finally, at the end of the day, record in your journal how you saw the Hand of the Lord manifested in your life that day.

Sounds simple.

I have no doubt that this direction is inspired and I will be blessed by following it. But I am having such a hard time getting it all done. I seem to be able to do SOME of the things, most of the time, but getting all four done has really been tough for me.

Specifically, recording.

You would think that someone who is never at a loss of things to say would do better at this. But I struggle. But I always want to say it just right, not like a travel log. And sometimes, quite frankly, I have a hard time seeing His Hand.

Is that awful to admit? I know He lives, I know He guides all things. I don’t doubt He is constantly watching over us. So why am I so stubborn that I can’t always see it? Why do I let the world get in the way of seeing His tender touch?

That to me is the greatest gift ever, when you notice His hand.

So, I am going to keep trying.

Everyday, I hope to do better than the one before. Everyday, I hope to see the Hand of the Lord more and more evident in my life.

I have a firm testimony that our leaders have been called of God. That by following them, we can find the happiness our Heavenly Father intends for us.

My goal? Plead, Read, Act and Record!

Our Hawaii Trip: Part 4 -- Aloha

So, for those of you who are interested here is a slide show of only some of the photos I took. I took 700 photos and just couldn't get them all on YouTube...

Lucky You...

Anyway, there isn't any music to this slide show and I have shown some of the photos already on the blog... but for my family... here you go.

Our Hawaii Trip: Part 3 -- Polynesian Cultural Center

This by far was the highlight of my trip. We had been told this place wasn't that great, but we LOVED it. I took SO many pictures... here are just a few of my favorites

Our Hawaii Trip: Part 2 -- Turtle Bay Resort

This was the most beautiful place we could have stayed. Located on the North Shore of Oahu it was quiet and secluded, but was complete with everything we needed.

Here are some shots from our Lanai.

And this is the hotel restaurant... gorgeous!

I would stay here in a heart beat again if I had the chance!

Our Hawaii Trip: Part 1 -- A brush with adventure

I have to apologize in advance for the HUGE amount of photos here. Hopefully they won't take too long to load.

You see, sometimes, things just need to be said with pictures.

We were going to brave it!

I really am feeling quite anxious at this point

Hubby is doing great...

Until...

A huge wave...

And a near fall...

GO!! MAN!! GO!!

Whew! SAFE!

Once in a Blue Moon

There are few sounds as heavenly to me as the sound of children laughing. Not just a little laugh, but the kind of laugh that reaches from their very toes.

A laugh so alive that to not release it, the poor child would burst. A laugh that makes you smile to hear it and cry to think about later.

Every once and a while, when the combined chaos of a full house aligns just right with the cheerfulness of siblings, it results in this kind of laughter.

As my mom would say, “Once in a Blue Moon”

I sit back and think “This is why I had all these children” And for a brief moment, I feel heaven close by. I feel peace.

I am so grateful for those little moments. Those contagious laughing spells. I am grateful that my children, when the fighting is done, can giggle and laugh together. So hard that it gives B the hiccups.

Those are the days that keep me going.

No one can take that from me. Even if the laughing moments end in rug burns and ripped shirts. Soon reality comes back, and I remember those sweet moments.




(BTW, I have no connection to the people in this video, other than it is one of my favorites)


(FILLER POST)

Be seated, but be careful!

(Not for the Feeble Stomached)

I had to use the staff bathroom the other day at the kids elementary school. There are a total of. maybe, two male teachers. ALL over the room were signs reminding the men to “be a sweetie, and wipe the seatie” And other such reminders.

I had to laugh.

Seriously, for a gender that has a history of hunting – thus aiming – there seems to be a slight problem with the delivery in the bathroom.

I have 4 boys. 4 wonderful, aimless, boys. (And that is only #1 of 2 problems!!!)

It is amazing how easy it is for me to take advantage of the simple luxuries of life.

Like sitting on a dry toilet seat. One that hasn’t been spattered by your offspring’s urine.

I have tried to teach them: Lift, Aim, Wipe, Close.

I have left notes.

Step by step instructions.

Really.

They involved how to bend knees just so. How to “shake” their part just right so nothing drips. How to wipe the toilet seat with clean toilet paper. How to flush.

I have used cheerios for target practice.

Given rewards for clean seats.

Called them back to clean up a mess.

Nothing!!!

My boys are smart, capable beings. I believe in them. I know they can do this. Yet, they STILL leave the seat DOWN and cover it with pee.

EVEN AT OTHER PEOPLES HOUSES!!!

I am not asking much. I just want to keep urine off the floor, shower curtain, toilet seat, walls, cabinets and trash pail.

Really? Is that too much for a mother to ask?

You know, having 4 boys has really tested my limits. My patience. I have learned I have a long way to go. Hopefully, soon, I can start learning that lesson on a dry toilet seat.


(FILLER POST)

I shall call her CHICO and she shall be my friend -- or not

So, I have a confession. I like to shop… way too much. I didn’t use to be a shopper, but something about having a little girl after a tribe of boys really brought out the inner shopper.

Of course, planning a Hawaii trip and all, I needed to get island appropriate clothing. Short on time and heavy on waistline, I was limited to what and where I could buy.

Being a few minutes early to an appointment close to Chico’s at Dana Park, and having never been there, I decided to stop in. Once I realized that their sizing of 0,1,2 &3 was just to make us larger girls feel good about themselves, I started sifting through their clothes. They had some very cute tropical clothing. And the 60% off, Storewide clearance sign led me to believe that would reduce the prices to somewhat normal.

Well, I gathered a couple items and headed for the dressing room. That is when she pounced.

The “super-nice-grandma-type-that-you-can’t-say-no-to” sales lady.

Evidently they are trained in how to make a sale.

I stepped through a field of strategically placed accessories into mirrorless dressing rooms.

Clever. You have to step out into the main room to look at yourself in the mirror. You are surrounded by accessories and there is the little saleslady with more clothes.

She just kept coming. Like the energizer bunny.

“I found you a little jacket.”

“Here’s a cute pair of shorts”

“This top would look so adorable with those pants”

Seriously, I was being smothered. I have NEVER shopped like this.

Well, OK, maybe – when I was 7 – and my mom was with me. But never since I was an adult.
There were so many clothes in this little dressing room, I could barely turn around.

And of course, I had to try each item in front of the mirror where my new found friend would comment on the color, fit or style. I felt like I was on “What Not to Wear” only the opposite… she would say everything looked good.

That's odd, I thought I resembled a fat pig with a flower on her belly.

I narrowed it down to a few items, gathered them together and proceeded to the checkout.
GULP! Nothing I picked was on sale in their “Storewide Clearance.”

I said, “Oh, I am going to have to take some things off this transaction.” Suddenly, my “shopping pal” pulled out the big guns and she and the manager tried to convince me to just buy it all and then I could return it if I don’t wear it. After all, I had 30 days. I knocked a couple hundred dollars off the purchase, much to the disappointment of my saleslady and walked out of there with 5 – count them – 5 items. (Well, I guess you could say 6 because one top consisted of 2 pieces)

Still. 5 items and it cost almost $350.

Gulp. Gulp.

I didn’t even unpack the clothes from the ultra fancy bag they were placed in. By the time I reached home, I had made my decision. I was going to return it.

ALL of it!

I am a Wal-mart and Target girl… I have never spent so much on clothes and couldn’t bear to do it now. The most expensive pair of pants I own is $25. This was ridiculous!

So, the next night I returned it. Of course, I had to drive to a different Chico’s 20 minutes away because I was too chicken to go back to the same person.

I know, I know.

L!A!M!E!

But I did it. Got all my money back and went to Kohls.

Now there is a store for you!

I hit their clearance racks, got clothes for my trip (5 outfits) 2 t-shirts for hubby and jeans R plus two pairs of shoes and still didn’t come NEAR what I had originally spent at Chicos.

Let me just say – Adorable capris for $3.80. That’s not a typo folks. I got TWO different pairs at that price. The whole shopping trip was like that.

Yup. Totally worth the exchange! And yet, I feel like I betrayed my Chico pal.

Maybe she can find a new friend.


(FILLER POST)

I Sang for Queen Latifa

OK… Maybe I didn’t REALLY sing for Queen Latifah but I could have…

So I had this crazy dream. You know, one of those ones that feels so real that you have to double check with someone else to make sure it was just a dream.

I went to a charity event of some sort. All the most famous Who’s Who was there. Including Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston (they were still together, of course) There was even a random couple in our ward, not even someone I associate with regularly.

Queen Latifah, herself, was there. But she was being a bully, beating up everyone in the room. So when I walked in, everyone was cowering in their seats.

Well, Queen Latifah began fisting me, and after a few hits, I decided to sing to her heart. Help her discover her goodness. And so, with the voice of an angel, I lifted my voice in song. (Now that should have been my first clue that it was a dream because in real life my voice only qualifies for the shower)

I remember thinking how great the acoustics were in that room. I wish I could remember the words, because in my dream, they all rhymed. And they must have been good because soon, the Queen was singing along with me.

People were touched to tears. Queen Latifah embraced in a new friendship and our guests started leaving. But, on the way out, each one started handing me large bills – like 50’s and 100’s. For the charity, of course.

One gentleman was even kind enough to give me a 2 million dollar check.

That must have been some singing.

And for a brief moment, when I woke up, I savored my 15 minutes of fame.

Then reality hit me in the face in the form of a two year old foot so I got up and made breakfast.

(FILLER POST)

Aloha!

We are off!!!

Hawaii here we come! I am so excited to spend a few relaxing days with my sweet hubby.


Heaven help the grandparents as they watch our kiddos…


We seriously gave them a book of instructions. As if they have never raised kids before… They were good sports though and I will breathe easier.


I will be sure to post photos when we get back.

My Angry Little Laundry Gremlin

What would you expect after doing laundry for 4 days STRAIGHT??? Multiple loads a day? From sunrise until sundown??? A beautifully empy laundry room, right?

Wrong!

I certainly wouldn't expect THIS!!!!!

That's FIVE baskets of laundry folks!!! FIVE! Each basket is 2 to 3 LOADS!!!

Seriously?

There is something wrong here. Where is this Laundry Gremlin and how do I rid myself of him???

Now, don't think for a second that my children actually put these clothes into the right baskets... Oh no. This is what I found on the floors, UNDER beds, ON beds, BEHIND beds, in closests and in toy bins... AFTER I thought I was all done with the laundry.

Then there is this STUPID sock. It is a loner. It never gets worn... hasn't been worn in MONTHS. Yet no matter what I do with it, it ends up here, in the laundry. I can put it in the sock basket, children's drawers, donate pile -- even the garbage -- But somehow, it ends up HERE. For some reason, This item DOES make it into the baskets.

EVERYTIME!!!

At least we aren't taking the Station Wagon

"6 AM. We are going to leave at 6 AM."

Those were famous last words by my parents when we were getting ready to leave on a family vacation. Usually, what ended up happening was we wouldn’t leave for hours AFTER the planned time. And I don’t just mean 8 or 9. I am talking about Noon or even later.

On one exceptionally scattered vacation, we didn’t leave until a 1 ½ days after the planned time. YIKES.

Getting out the door wasn’t just a matter of packing; it involved cleaning every nook and cranny in the house. I don’t know about you, but there are some crannies, like the ones in our bathroom, that I never want to see again.

My mother would inspect and re-inspect the house until she felt it passed the “leaving-on-vacation-test”. Once it passed, we were on our way.

Our trips included our youthful legs sticking to the tan vinyl seats in our station wagon, which was complete with side wood paneling. I would poke my brother in the back of the neck until he whined. My sister would copy everything I did. Usually my brothers feet ended up on my legs somehow and I found ways of annoying my sister until she cried.

Eventually, I would settle down with my Barbie dolls and a roll of toilet paper in the makeshift bed my mom made in the back for me. I would spend hours creating a masterful wardrobe for my dolls from Charmin Ultra Soft. My mom would even by the pink rolls sometimes for the trips so my dolls were all the rage in the season’s most happening colors.

Now that I think of it, why did my parents like to travel so much? Our vacations usually start close to the time we plan, my house is never spotless and the whole time is spent trying to keep the kids from beating each other up.

But we do it. We make memories and it usually turns out great.

This week, we are preparing for a different kind of trip. Just me and the Hubby.

We celebrated our 15th Anniversary 10 days ago. In honor of that mile marker, we are taking off without the kids to Hawaii.

So as I reminisce about our many vacations, I look forward to a new adventure. And, with a little anxiety, plan to leave my babies (who really aren’t babies anymore) with Papa and Grammy.

Our first scheduled event on our itinerary? A couple’s seaside massage! Look out Oahu – here we come!

What are your best vacation memories?

I LOVE LEE'S LAYOUTS!!!!

OK, so I totally copied my blogging buddie Erin and emailed Lee. She made me TWO WONDERFUL layouts for my blogs -- plus new buttons for my ANGEL FRIDAY blog.

This blog I told her I loved vintage Lucy! And she imagined this design. Then for my Angel Blog, she came up with the most perfect theme ever!!! She is SOOO TALENTED!

You have to visit her blog!!!! And check out my other blog to see what she did there!!


LOVE IT!!!

THANKS LEE!

In the Strength of the Lord

It's a whole new year. New goals. New plans. When I look at who I am and who I want to become, I sometimes feel overwhelmed. But there are simple truths I need to remember. The way has been prepared for me to accomplish what I need to accomplish. A way for me to overcome my weaknesses.

We had a wonderful lesson in Relief Society today which helped me remember these things. It was taken from the talk by David A. Bednar.

Our teacher taught us from this lesson about how the Atoning Sacrifice of the Savior gives us an enabling power to overcome all trials we are faced with. The trials may not be taken away but our ability and strength will increase if we rely on that enabling power.

From the talk itself…

"There is no physical pain, no anguish of soul, no suffering of spirit, no infirmity or weakness that you or I ever experience during our mortal journey that the Savior did not experience first. You and I in a moment of weakness may cry out, "No one understands. No one knows." No human being, perhaps, knows. But the Son of God perfectly knows and understands, for He felt and bore our burdens before we ever did. And because He paid the ultimate price and bore that burden, He has perfect empathy and can extend to us His arm of mercy in so many phases of our life. He can reach out, touch, and succor--literally run to us--and strengthen us to be more than we could ever be and help us to do that which we could never do through relying only upon our own power. "

Take a minute to read this talk. I believe it will help each one of us with our new years resolutions.

My Awards

Blogging friends are AWESOME!

Thank you to everyone who has given me an award!! I have been horrible about posting them... but I do appreciate them. I know I am missing a few, I will try to post them as I find them in my inbox. Thanks again!

Love you!

From EmmyMom

From Beth at Walk a Mile

From Memoirs of the Queen Bee

From EmmyMom