My Best Christmas Present Ever

I was asked to speak in church this past Sunday. I may as well been told the end of the world was near. You see, I don't particularly like to talk in church, but I do it anyway. Kind of a type of self torture, I guess. But I told this story in my talk and decided that it would make a good blog post. And since I haven't written a whole lot lately I figured I would post what I have written. So to those of you who didn't have to hear me in person, you get to read it minus my shaky chipmunk voice and trembling hands. And to those of you who suffered through it already, I'm sorry and God bless you.

When I was growing up our family had a paper route which had to be completed every day, even on Christmas. I should say especially on Christmas, as the papers were very large due to the fact that they were stuffed with the ads for the sales to occur the following day. 

The massive amounts of ads caused the paper to be delivered in two parts requiring us to assemble the paper before trying to stretch a wimpy rubber band around the massive girth of those Christmas papers. Needless to say, many a rubber band broke making the delivery process even more tedious and lengthy. 

 Oh, how I loathed delivering those papers on Christmas morning.

It wasn’t just the process of getting the papers delivered, but the fact that we couldn’t open any packages or see any of our Christmas until all of the papers were done. The time came that the paper route became my responsibility after being passed down through all of my brothers and after 6 years of helping, I would be delivering the Christmas morning papers alone. 

I dreaded the very thought.

Christmas morning came and I could hear my parents upstairs rustling around and I knew that soon they would be coming for me. So true to the lazy teenager that I was, I pulled my covers up closer around me, clinging to the warmth and comfort that my bed offered and quickly drifted back to sleep. 

When I woke up some time later, knowing that my parents usually woke us around 6:00, I put off looking at the clock not wanting know the minutes left before the impending doom would occur. And that’s when it dawned on me that the light beyond my closed eyelids was a little too bright for 6am. I stole an glance at the clock- it was 9:06! The papers were late!

I rushed upstairs questioning my mom along the way. 

“Where are the papers? How come you didn’t get me up sooner?”  

My mother just smiled and said, “Merry Christmas! We got you a sub.”

Over the years, I have been asked about the best present I have ever received and to this day it remains the time my parents arranged a sub on Christmas morning for my paper route. This gift was nothing concrete that I could hold in my hands and only lasted the length of a morning, but the feeling and sentiment behind what others hands had done for me that morning has stuck with me for the last 20 years.

Back From Black

It has taken me over a month to get this post written due to computer complications (who knew a little light bulb could cause such a ruckus) and it isn't even what I really wanted to convey to you. But honestly, those feelings are hard for me to put into words. By the time you get to the end of it, I hope you understand and forgive me.

If the whole wedding reception tradition hadn't been so formal when I got married, I would have had two Bridesmen along with my Bridesmaids standing in the reception line. One of them would have been this guy, my friend, Digger.

Obviously, Digger is not his real name, but it is what he has gone by as long as I have known him and he still answers to it today. He is one of my best friends from high school who let me drag him to early morning Seminary Morningsides and kept Mr. Trimble's Spanish class, down right bearable. He could make me smile on the worst of days and took me to Senior Cotillion, when my R.M. boyfriend (Richard) had no interest in attending a high school dance. Although, I know Digger would have rather taken the girl that is now his wife.

But that life seems like a hundred lifetimes ago before we traded in the responsibilities and fun of high school for those of grown ups with families of our own.

Over the last three months, as I have gotten my children settled in to a new school year, Digger has watched as doctors at PCMC settled his little girl, Gracie, into a medically induced coma. As I have shuttled my kids to and from basketball, football, and other lessons, he has watched as Gracie has been shuttled to and from the operating room for various procedures to stop or slow down the seizures that have taken hold of  her little 9 year old body. Over the last month, as I woke my children to each new day Digger and his wife, Mindy, have wondered if this would be the day they saw their daughters eyes again as the doctors brought her slowly out of the coma.

Sometimes life seems really unfair.

I want to tell you Digger and Gracie's story because of a video I saw the other day. It was delivered to our inbox from a radio talk show host that we regularly receive mass emails from. It was a video where a toddler, about the age of two, is hit by a delivery van in a Chinese marketplace and how many minutes elapse before anyone helps the crying baby. It was honestly, the most horrific thing I have ever seen. The horrifying part not being seeing that child cry out in pain, but to watch 18 different people walk or drive by, obviously notice the child and not do ANYTHING! I didn't, because I couldn't, watch the whole thing.

The talk show's host intent on sharing the video was to show what living in a communistic country, under heavy rule by the government in all aspects of their lives, does to the charitable and basic humanity of its inhabitants.

 I guess he got his point across because I started to think about Digger's little Gracie, her situation and how the people of the communities in Utah (and I'm sure other places as well) have handled it. Here is a little girl and her family who have spent over 100 days in Primary Children's in the fight of their lives, just like the toddler laying in the street. This fight has taken a heavy toll on their family- both emotionally and financially. Instead of walking by and hoping that the next guy will do something many people, some that know Gracie and even more that don't, have stopped to give aid to a girl and her family in need.

People have organized and carried out a 5K and carnival with enough participants to catch the media's eye. Neighborhoods have held yard and bake sales. Friends and family have participated in special fasts. Restaurants have held dinners in Gracie's honor and donated the profits. Accounts have been set up where annoymous donations can be made. It has blown me away to see how people have stepped up and poured out all kinds of charity simply because of the goodness of their hearts.

This is the world I am thankful to live in.

A world where, thanks in part to those friends and strangers who have not only supported Gracie financially, but also with positive thoughts and prayers, she opened her eyes after 11 weeks in a coma on 11/11/11. And now a month later, she has been moved out of the ICU to a Neuro Unit and is making miraculous strides in her rehab and recovery.

Isn't it amazing what a little compassion, coupled with hope and prayer can do? It saddens my heart to think of children living in worlds where compassion is crushed by the fear of  "getting involved" and hope and prayer are nonexistent in a God-less society. Now I know the video is not indicative of all Chinese people as a whole, so here is my hope and my prayer that the baby laying in the street was afforded a miracle, just like Gracie .

I Byte

All of my trouble started with a virus that hijacked my laptop and held it hostage for 3 days. Fortunately, it wasn't anything that a simple system restore couldn't handle....or so I thought. Because of a series of events in the last 3 months, I think that virus didn't only invade my laptop, but myself as well. You see, at my house we have a new solution if ever anything that runs by electrical current won't work or isn't working correctly, and it goes something like this, "Did Mom touch it?" If the answer is "Yes" then you have your solution. It is either broken for good or broken badly enough that it will cost you a significant amount of money to make it ever work again.

Apparently, I have the touch of death for any and all electronics. Take a look at my list of casualties:

-Laptop fan
-Left front turn signal
-New cell phone
-Left rear turn signal
-Van automatic door latch on passenger side
-A crashed hard drive... for which I weep. Nothing was recoverable. In the technicians words "it is fried". A company in California tells me that they have a clean room where they can open it up, take the platforms out and retrieve the information for $755 for jpeg files and up to $2800 for any other files. (Sniff, sniff.) And yes, it had to die the day I had the external hard drive out ready to back up files.
So the lesson learned through this ordeal is for all of you procrastinators (like me) out there, I suggest you take the route I did and shell out $59/year to Carbonite. $59 beats $2800 any day and the best part is that I don't even have to think about it.
-Van door signal. Try driving around for 3 days with that constant "ping, ping, ping" ringing throughout the confined space of a car- I about drove up the road to the State Hospital and committed myself.
-Playroom DVD player.
-The replacement DVD player for the previous playroom DVD player.
-E-reader
-Van radio
-Refridgerator ice maker. It is amazing what a misplaced plastic bag can do. Just trust me on this one.
-Richard's ipod touch
-One of our phone handsets
-And this weeks victim, my good lap top's screen.

I wish I knew what a system restore for me would entail. I'm sure it involves an exotic location, lots of down time, and large quantities of delicious foods, so in other words, it's out of the question. But seriously, this is getting to be ridiculous, not to mention expensive, and I'm running out of ideas to cope with my new condition.

 Do you think the Amish would take me?


PS- I am not liable for anything that may happen to any electronic devices used in the commenting on this post. Please, comment at your own risk. ;)

How I Stack Up

Can I tell you that going camping generates a lot of laundry? And can I also tell you that so does being gone the week before at Girls Camp? Especially when you come home to find the one load of laundry that had been started still sitting in the washer...two days later?
Yeah....

We've been inundated with dirty laundry here at the Parke home.

More so than usual.

The other day I decided to hit it hard and plow through as much as I could. In between loads I was running children back and forth between various lessons, so the loads came out of the dryer into a giant mound just outside the laundry room door waiting to be folded and put away later.

After about 3 loads, the mound was starting to look like a small mountain and it got me thinking. So I asked Richard if he thought I could  get the mound to be as high as I am tall...a whopping  5 foot 3 1/2 inches, let's just round that up to a massive height of 5'4".

Richard laughed and told me the stack would topple before it would reach that height.

The challenge was issued.

I was up to the challenge.....

....or should I say that about 3 or 4 loads later the challenge was up to me?

It's the little accomplishments in life that make me happy.

 I know they will be a wrinkled mess, but I like to think of it more like my family will just be showing off the wrinkles of my success.

If they don't like the wrinkles of my success, they can learn to iron.

And, no. That is not the end of my laundry quandary. There is still plenty more where that came from.

Seriously, who needs a service project?

I'm A Sasquatch

Photo Credit
Don't tell anyone... this was really me. ;)

I am abnormally hairy. It is just a fact of life and to prove it, I have had several instances through out my life that have done nothing but solidified this fact.

Instance #1- Since I was a little girl, whenever I have my hair cut the hairdresser has 99% of the time commented on how thick my hair is.

Instance #2- My brothers would play a game with me in Sacrament Meeting where I would sit between them and they would proceed to yank out my arm hair. The object of their game? To see who could get the biggest chunk of hair. My objective- not to scream bloody murder.

Instance #3- A little leg hair growing contest between me and a so-called "friend" in high school. Let's just say I lost a boyfriend due to the results.  Yep, I had a forest on my leg, and the so-called friend had my boyfriend.

 See? I am not follicular challenged in any way possible. In fact, couple the 3 above instances with the length of the hair on my head and I, am a plumbers nightmare. That is why I want to introduce you to this little gem-

I know it's one of those "Sold On TV" products and you're thinking, "Yeah  right. Those things never work like they say they do." But I'm here to tell you this one does! It really, really does.

Our drains never drained like drains are supposed to drain ever since we moved into this home. I've plungered and dumped massive amounts of Liquid Plumber (and money) down the drain to no avail.  Then one day, I was in Wal-Mart with my boys looking at Pokemon cards that happened to be displayed by all of these "Sold On TV" products, and there was the Turbo Snake, screaming at me to buy it and beat those stubborn drains once and for all! And only for the mere price of $9.99. I figured that was the same cost of another bottle of Drano, so what-the-heck, I'd be out the money any way.

At first, I didn't think the little plastic coated wire with a simple piece of Velcro on the end was going to do anything, but I stuck it down the drain anyway. I wiggled it around, stuck it in a little farther, and then pulled it up and out....with what seemed  like the continent of Australia on the end! I won't gross you out with the gory details (Too late? Sorry.), but I will tell you to wear gloves and a mask, especially, if you have a weak gag reflex- you would not believe the goodies lurking down your drain!

So there you have it, a $9.99 re-usable miracle cure for clogged drains! If you haven't picked up your Mom a Mother's Day gift yet, this little treasure may just be your last minute saving grace. I am sure she'll love it, after all, this Sasquatch of a mom did.

Bad Habits and Best Outcomes

I have a bad habit.

Okay....I have more than one, but for this story's sake we are only going to talk about one.

I have a bad habit...that deals with my husband's wallet. And no, it is not that I spend all of his hard earned money either. Although, that may qualify under the bad habit heading too, but we are not talking about that bad habit, we are talking about my bad habit of washing my husband's wallet. If I had a dollar for every time I have exercised this bad habit it would make up for all of his money I've frivolously spent.

Seriously. It's that bad.

I know- "JUST CHECK THE POCKETS!" I know, I know, I KNOW!!! And I do...most of the time. Then there is the rest of the time where you have a mountain of laundry staring you in the face and precious little time to make that mountain transform into clean, folded, ready to put away laundry, so you just start plowing though the loads as fast as you can; there is no time to lose in checking pockets. And then there are days like today.

I checked. I promise. I really did. But when the wallet hunt started I had an awful feeling of where it was going to end up. But I checked! I removed keys, tissues (gross! I might add), and even a hefty chunk of cash that I even honestly returned. I couldn't have missed the wallet filled with all of the receipts from Richard's recent business trips!? All of the receipts that have to be faxed in order for his corporate card to be reimbursed? No, I wouldn't have washed them, because I checked.

A peek into the washing machine told me different.

It looked like Mardi Gras with all of the confetti that littered the damp clothes- a confetti that consisted of receipt paper. I wanted to crawl under the washer and co-habitate with the dust bunnies that undoubtedly live there and I could have, since I felt about that tall. I was numb. I didn't know what to do. Before being pulled away with a call for work Richard put his arm around me and told me it wasn't my fault.

I continued to pick out  pieces trying to find any that were big enough to be pieced together. Unfortunately, there weren't many. I felt awful. I felt sick. Richard came back and the arm went back around me as he quietly told me to stop what I was doing, that things would be okay, and that he loved me. Then he left to run an errand that prompted the search for the wallet in the first place.

I changed over the laundry and started dinner while confessing, via phone, the sin I had committed to my mom. Mid confession we were interrupted by the beep of call waiting- it was Richard inviting me out to dinner. Well, I figured that even sinners have to eat, so I readily accepted and ended up at Magleby's where we had a lovely dinner complete with creme brulee for dessert.

Now he could have been upset and ranted and raved, or worse, given me the silent treatment, which only would've have amplified the horrific failure I already felt that I was, but he didn't. Instead, we had an amazing evening. He felt bad that I felt bad. He realized that a true mistake was made and that true remorse was felt. And it was enough.

It may not be enough to pay his corporate card, but we'll worry about that when the bill comes. But for now, it is still enough.

To Whom It May Concern,

So......

You may have noticed that I haven't blogged in over a month. It's not because there hasn't been plenty to blog about because there has been. The little narrator in my head has still been blabbing away, but none of that rambling has made it here in print. I'm not blogging now to make excuses, just to give more of an explanation, of sorts.

My explanation is this: Frankly, My Dear, I......just didn't want to. Plain and simple.

When you combine the winter blahs that make me question if this is the year I visit the doctor and confess that I'm not even close perfect and need a little something something to help me deal with that fact and 3 separate and fantastically stubborn head and chest colds from the end of January to the first of March, I didn't want to do anything. Anything except perhaps diving into a vat of creamed butter and sugar and never coming up for air.

But the cold is starting to dissipate. The sun's appearances are becoming steadier. My running is more on schedule and a course of antibiotics has kicked those sinusitis germs to the curb. And best of all, I am finally starting to feel like doing anything again. So bring it!

Elvira and her Homie

Last week Richard and I were asked to help with a "Where's Waldo" type activity for the youth in our ward. We were excited to help out especially since it was Ashton's first mutual activity to attend and it gave us the chance to dress up like Halloween in January. Our job was to dress up incognito and stroll the corridors of the mall. The youth were told that there were members of their congregation at the mall and their job was to find them and answer the questions they had.

Easy right?

Not so much.

Especially when they look like this...

And this...

Elvira and her 'Homie' were totally out of character for both Richard and I, but I think that was what made it so fun for us. Maybe, not so much for Ashton since this was his first mutual activity at the mall, with his friends and his parents show up dressed like a couple of goons.

The best part for Richard and me was walking past Ashton twice and he didn't recognize us. Richard worried that he wasn't disguised enough, but apparently he was.

I also got a kick out of the looks both the leaders and youth got on their faces when they recognized me. It was priceless.
I have to thank my friend, Julie, for the use of her wig. And just so you know, I will not be going 'dark' anytime soon. (You can now breathe a sigh of relief.)

So the next time you go to the mall be sure to look closely around at those walking past you, they may not be the strangers you think they are..... they may be even stranger.

Feeling Like a Kid Again

Growing up being the only girl with three older brothers wasn't easy, especially when they ended up with all the good teeth genes and I was left with this:

So after seeing a speech therapist for my tongue thrust and spending 3+ years of looking like this...

...I knew the uncomfortable, awkward, and not-so-cute world of braces. Especially since that world for me included head gear. Yes, the very unattractive, over the head, around the neck, looks like I'm a horse with a bit in my mouth, head gear.

But when it was all said and done it was worth it because I ended up with this:

A beautiful smile with straight teeth and no gaps.

Unfortunately, the orthodontists didn't know then what they know now about the length of wearing a retainer.(Or maybe they did and figured they would just get another paying customer in a few more years.) But I was told to wear it all the time for 6 months and then at night for a year. After that, I could be done.....until 20 years later when the gaps are reopening and the teeth have moved, making them out of alignment so that they wear wrong.

And I am back in braces at 34 years of age.

The top are clear this time.

 But they are still a lot bigger than what they showed me on the little model in the office.

I thought the bottoms were going to be clear too.

They aren't.

They push my lips out making me look like I've had bad lip injections.

I can't smile worth a darn which just attracts more attention.

My hubby hasn't kissed me since I got them.

But that might be because I've had a cold. 

 At least, that is what I'm telling myself.

 So I'm right back at that awkward, uncomfortable, and unattractive stage of life again.

And I get to pay for it this time.

Plus, my teeth hurt. 

And my cheek gets caught on one of the brackets in the back making my cheek sore.

This makes eating almost anything difficult.

Except mushy stuff.

Like old people eat.

So I feel like a gumming geriatric.

Except I whine like a 2 year old.

Sorry.

Aren't you glad it's only for a year?

I am.

I think I can go that long without smiling.

It'll be good for my wrinkles.

What do you do...

...when your husband is out of town on your birthday?

Well, first of all, you get beautiful flowers and a balloon delivered to let you know how sorry he is he can't be there.

Next, your awesome neighbor and girlfriend, Carrilyne, invites you over for lunch where you eat yummy finger foods and scrumptious mint chocolate chip cupcakes.

You also get packages in the mail that contain baggies of white powder...

...from your mother, who by the way is NOT a drug dealer, it just contains citric acid which happens to be expensive and the secret ingredient in your favorite Almond Punch recipe that you've been craving.

Many of your close friends and some not-so-close friends, take time out of their day to post that 13 letter well wish on your Facebook wall. You also receive e-mails from your insurance agent, the Coca-Cola Company (this should be a hint that you drink too much of their product), My Coke Rewards (another hint), Swag Bucks, and even a phone call from your life insurance agent who all wish you a Happy Birthday! 

 I'm sure they all genuinely mean it too.

You use the $20 your NOT-a-drug-dealer mom (even though she sends baggies of white powder that is costly and has to be purchased from a pharmacy)  sent you to get take out from Panda Express so you don't have to make dinner.

Following picking up take out, you go with all of your munchkins to The Sweet Tooth Fairy Bakery where you each choose your favorite flavor of cupcake to prevent you from making your own birthday cake.

And last of all, because of all of this, you have a pretty FANTASTIC birthday!

White Elephant

White Elephant   noun-
2   c : something of little or no value
Definition from Merriam-Webster's Online Dictionary

According to the definition, what you see pictured above is probably the best white elephant gift EVER!
 
 
Although..... if I keep it up, they might end up having some value because they may actually fit me by the time  the holidays are over. This is not a goal by any means because honestly, these are one gift I can bear NOT to use and CAN NOT wait to re-gift next year.

You know what they say about paybacks...

Excuses, Excuses...

If you opened the dictionary to the phrase 'blog slacker' I can almost guarantee you will find a picture of me. My blog and almost everything surrounding it has taken a back burner since the kids went back to school. This is evidenced by my puny number of posts in August and September, my lack of commenting on other blogs (I promise, I am still reading them.), and the absence or extreme tardiness of replying to your comments here. I am sorry, really I am.

I was reminded in church on Sunday that the first step to repentance is to recognize that there is a problem, so.....Hi. My name is Natalie and I am a serious blog slacker.

There. Consider it recognized.

But just because I've recognized it doesn't mean I'm not going to try to justify it. So....I think it may have something to do with the fact that blogging takes me an excruciatingly long time to do. I can "hear" what I want to say in my head, but when it comes to making it travel to my fingertips, it makes a detour somewhere along the way and things never sound like I want them to. Trust me, they are much more witty, funny, and thought provoking in my head. It may also have something to do with adjusting back to a school schedule, Richard's travel schedule, homework, lessons, team sports, volunteer time, scouts, potty training, or that life has simply been crazy and my brain cells stretched too thin.

I know...excuses, excuses.

Because really let's face it....there is time to blog. I have the same number of hours in my day as I did back in June or July, I have just chosen, or in some cases, life has chosen for me, to spend those hours on other things. Whether I like it or not.

One particular excuse some friends recently introduced me to is couponing. Yes, I am now one of those annoying 'coupon people' who takes an extra minute at the end of checkout to scan coupons. Yep, one of those people that apparently a lot of cashiers hate, and someone who has been saving more money than I realized was possible from those little inserts in my paper and mail.

Here are just a few of my conquests from my some latest saving trips.

 Everything in this picture was FREE! including the smile on my cute little model's face.

 Toilet paper- $1.38- because who wants to spend a lot of money on something you soil with nastiness and flush down the toilet?

And the one I am most proud of...

2 bottles of laundry detergent (totaling 50 loads), 1 bottle of dish liquid, 8 bars of soap, 36 of those things in the pink boxes, and 6 bags of Halloween candy = $13.39 at Rite Aid.

BUT if you count the $8 I got back on this purchase from their Up+ rewards program my total was only $5.39. That is a lot of free or really cheap stuff and just by following this blog and by planning my shopping trips using this site.

And although it has taken me some time to get organized and figure out just exactly what I am doing, after one particular day of great savings I felt like I had saved enough that when I visited a friend's boutique party I could safely buy me one of these...

And since I think Richard gave it the universal male look of approval by rolling his eyes, I've decided that maybe some excuses are worth a little blog interruption.

Just Getting into the Spirit of Things

I love fall.

The crispness in the air...

The change of sunlight...

The array of delicious harvest foods...

The fallen leaves strewn about like a quilt pieced of crimson, amber, and ochre hued shapes.  Their decay permeating the air with the distinct scent of autumn.

It's heavenly.

And of course, there's Halloween. As much as I love fall, I really love Halloween. The decorating, the costumes, the candy...everything about it says that I was made for this holiday. If time, sheer energy, and the ever mighty dollar weren't an issue, I'm sure our house would take on the appearance of a spook alley attraction from a theme park for the month of October. You can bet it would be awesome.

This year, I think I was feeling like decorating just the house and yard was not enough. I could do more; like maybe I should make the decorating a little more personal this time around. So last week with the help of an old lamp with a broken light bulb I took the Halloween spirit onto my actual person with some Frankenstein like accessories- five of them to be exact. For an added touch of gruesome, a divet where a missing chunk of flesh should be was added just below.

I know that the inside of my arm is kind of an inconspicuous place for these accessories, so I promise that next year I will be more conscious of which body part I gouge with broken glass. I guess my aim was a little off that day. And although it doesn't look all that impressive with out the prescence of gushing blood I think that I have shown there are no legnths that I will not go to for a holiday that I love.

Oh, and if I get tired of the Frankenstein effect the nice medical staff at the Provo InstaCare provided me with this more girlie costume to trade off with.

Two-for-one costumes! Now that's what I'm talking about!

Heck, for $50 bucks I wouldn't have expected anything less.

Constructively Destructive

He came home with it. That creative little glint in his eye that told me he had plans. I'm always interested to see what forms from that glint. The other day while I was busy with scouts he disappeared into the garage and built a protective covering for his tortoise's newly inherited outdoor habitat using hammers, saws, wire cutters, and a staple gun- all by himself. I was most impressed.

He busily got to work with clay, toothpicks, paint, fishing twine and cardboard and upon entering the kitchen to find a bunch of little clay balls of varying sizes, I discovered the making of a universe right in my very own kitchen. Now on any other day having the solar system formed on my kitchen island would have been thrilling, but as I had been fighting a headache since early afternoon thrilling was a little too much to handle.

By evening the ache in my head would not relent. Despite 2 doses of meds and resting in a dark room it continued to build until nausea became my newest worry. So just when each planet was getting its very own personalized paint job I lost my dinner, decided to throw in the towel, and just go to bed...leaving my 4 munchkins in the hands of a boy who was lost in the creation of the heavens- literally.

I woke up a 5 a.m. feeling grateful I hadn't decapitated myself the night before like I had been tempted to and got up to see where the other 2 who hadn't ended up in bed with me had landed. As I opened my bedroom door I realized my house was lit up like a Christmas tree. As I walked around turning off lights I found that every light was on in my house except three. Not to mention the 2 televisions blaring in deafening decibels. Wow, I bet the power company loves us.

I had been given a glimpse of the completed solar system through squinty eyes in the dark of my bedroom the night before, so yeah, I had no idea what it really looked like. So I headed downstairs to the kitchen to get a better look at the finished product. This is what greeted me...

Suddenly, I felt my headache returning and I turned around, went up the stairs, and back to bed.

Just this once, the universe was going to have to wait for me.

Repentance

Last Sunday evening, which also happened to be garbage night, my Visiting Teacher made a surprise visit to our house. You know that is just when someone will show up to see me- when all 10 of the garbage cans in our house are sitting in the front room teeming with smelly week old garbage waiting to be taken out.

Lovely.

But I don't care because she brought me this....

She said it was repentance for not visiting me last month. I told her that I really like her type of repentance.

Who wants a chocolate cake from me?

Run Away

Today I was supposed to run the 7 mile leg of a marathon length relay, but I didn't. Our team was short a member, which was just as well since I have a cough that has decided that my chest cavity is the ideal place to take up residence. If I would have ran this morning there is a good chance my lungs would have caught on fire and I would have been FORD (Found On Road Dead). This is not such a splendid outcome for a race. So instead, I sent all my good running vibes to my friend, Rachel, who is doing her part in a triathlon today, packed up my laptop, and hit the road with my new fave song blaring. Almost 3 hours later I arrived at my destination...

My sister-in-law Linda has connections with someone that has connections to a hotel in Cedar City, so about once a year we ditch our families and we take over the hotel conference room with electronics and snacks and we scrapbook (or in my case, blog) to our little hearts' content.

Connections are a great thing.

But don't worry about my munchkins, I've left them in the capable hands of leftover Panda Express, Little Caesar, and of course, their favorite person in the whole world, daddy. I'm positive they'll survive to make a mess of the house and run him ragged until I get home tomorrow afternoon. Until then I have three goals for the next 24 hours-
1. To catch up my blog on things that I missed over the summer,
2. To catch up with my girlfriend, LaRae, over dinner,
3. And to not gain 5 pounds in the process.

Camping

 Today, I will be on my way here....

(Tony Grove 2009)

Richard is the official Youth Conference Director for our Youth Conference this year, so kind of by default, I gained the title of Assistant Youth Conference Director. It's what wives do. Especially the really good wives.

It's beautiful area though, isn't it?

There are tons of these....

And we will be doing a lot of this...

And at the end of Youth Conference, I will pick up my munchkins and go back to do it all again.
Awesome, eh?

But before you get too envious of my camping adventure you may want to watch the first three or so minutes of this video clip. Or know what? Just take a break and watch the entire thing. It brings a smile to my face and I garauntee if you have ever been camping, it will bring one to yours too.

Oh, and just so you know, I feel the same way about bacon.

So while I'm away at camp you can pray for me....

(Tony Grove 2009)

...or maybe for them.

BWAAHAAHAAHAA!!!

(That was an evil laugh..... Just in case you were wondering.)

'Eclipsing' my Opinion

On Facebook the entire buzz right now is about 'Eclipse'. The first showings have ended and everyone is jumping on to give their report.

No, this is not why I am still awake.

But I do have a ticket to a showing of 'Eclipse' for Thursday night with the girls.

So, I figure since I am awake and since sleep seems to be eluding me tonight, I will share my recent discovery with you. (You may not want to thank me just yet.)

I read the "Twilight" series. I admit-- I enjoyed them. Not the whole love story part necessarily, because who is stupid enough to fall in love with a vampire, right? Or I guess a werewolf for that matter. I enjoyed the action and creativity of the story. Then came the movies. The first was pitiful. The second, injected with more money and maybe some steroids, showed how millions and muscles can improve a movie. Although, I still don't picture Rob Pattinson as Edward, and I wish potty mouth (read the latest EW and you'll see what I'm talking about) Kristen Stewart, as Bella, could learn to act like she actually loved that vampire boyfriend of hers, the one ingredient they had right was Taylor Lautner, as Jacob.

That was until the other day.

I had never seen Taylor in anything else besides the 'Twilight' movies, but I did hear he starred in a movie called "Shark Boy and Lava Girl" a few years ago. I had never seen this movie and actually I still haven't, but it was on the Disney Channel the other day and I just caught this scene-


Who wouldn't have nightmares after watching young Taylor, a.k.a Sharkboy, dance around in his fake six pack shark costume crooning that song?

The one good ingredient for me has been tainted and I don't know if I can ever look at him and his real six pack seriously again. Jacob has been ruined for me forever....or at least, until Thursday night.

Deep Thoughts and Burning Bosoms

The vanity was as cluttered as my thoughts; random products from the past few days remain that there hasn't been time to sort and put neatly away.

Birthday gifts

Social Justice

Butter vs. margarine

Relief Society meals

Debbie Gibson's "Electric Youth" 

Spray tans vs. farmer tans

Shoe shopping

12 miles

Scouts

 I sleeked and smoothed, tweaked and twirled, primped and painted, while deep in thought- not particularly paying attention to or thinking about what I was doing.  

And that's when it happened.

The wrinkles were too much to get away with....not many, but enough that the shirt would not button right. I tried applying water and tugging on it. The result was just a bunch of soggy wrinkles.

Dreading wasting time and energy dragging out the iron and ironing board for a tiny length of collar and shirt tail I continued working with my hair. Somewhere between deciding to leave my hair down and what to serve to basic strangers for dinner, brilliance struck. I was using a flat iron on my hair to smooth out the god given wrinkles in my hair why not use it on those in  my shirt?  

While continuing to straighten my hair my mind dove back into the difference between being forced to be or choosing to be charitable as Debbie's lyrics wafted around the room, "....the future belongs to the future itself....Electric Youth!" and with that triumphant 80's line, I finished ironing my tresses and  moved swiftly to my collar. With one long drag of the iron the big bend sending my collar in the wrong direction was gone.  I moved down where the mass of wrinkles surrounding the button holes were causing gaps and general untidiness to try the magic of my new found tool.

The button holes are on the right and for a  right handed individual the little trick of maneuvering the 200+ degree flat iron became....a little.... awkward. Transfering it to the left hand produced better results, except for the cord. That serpentine, plastic, electricity filled lasso had managed to wrangle my elbow, bicep, and the vanity knob making its length incredibly short. One wrong move found the flat iron screeching to a halt and sending it into a free fall as it slipped out of my hand. Because of it's tethered length it didn't have far to go and instantly my chest experienced a very warm sensation which quickly transformed more into that of a burning one.

My bosom was burning!!!

And not in that good, warm, fuzzy way that deep thoughts and pondering usually produce, but in a flesh melting, why was I distracted, I almost gave myself a reduction by curettage kind of way.  The iron, which seemed more like a branding iron now than anything, was quickly removed and thanks to protective undergarments burns were avoided and only mild tenderness remained. 

So when using a flat iron DO NOT;

- get distracted by deep thoughts, political subjects, or 80's music that may hinder your normal thought process,

-try to manipulate the device with your non-dominant hand,

-think you are brilliant to use the device to iron down the facing around button holes of shirts....

....unless you are brilliant enough to actually remove the shirt first.

Mommy Retreat

Moving is always difficult; in one way or another, there is always hardship involved. When we moved to Provo from British Columbia, I found this to be particularly true. Although we loved our time in Canada, our move here was a good thing; we were back in the states, we were closer to family, and we bought our first home. Things were good. Life was good. But there was still a void. The void was that feeling of security that living in a place that feels like home brings. I figured that in time the void would be filled and Provo would finally feel like home and I was right....only it took a little longer than I thought.

In late October, I was invited to and started attending a weekly Craft Night with these ladies.

 In December, I told Richard that Provo finally felt like home. Coincidence? Maybe, but I don't think so. These ladies and some other associations have filled my void and given me that security that belonging brings.

 Friday night, I went away for a night in Park City with some of these friends. We stayed in a 10 million dollar home complete with 5 master suites, 3 kitchens, theater room, elevator, and hot tub.

This particular home has been rented by the likes of Justin Timberlake & Jessica Biel (pre-split), Tony Romo, and Will Smith....and now my friends and I. Only we didn't have to pay the steep per night rental fee- we enjoyed ourselves for free (Thanks Kari & Duncan)! Seriously, it doesn't get any better than that.

We had dinner in Park City at the Loco Lizard and then headed up to the house.

Once we were there all the girl fun began....

We fit all 11 of us in the hot tub.

There was nail painting courtesy of Carrilyne.

Some of us even played in the snow....and then hopped right back in the hot tub to warm up.

We stayed up too late watching a movie in the theater and even later just talking in bed.

In the morning some slept in, but my internal alarm would not let me. At 6:28 I woke to find this view from my window. It was amazing....even if Bigfoot didn't walk by (This is an inside joke for Chastina my roommate for the night and awesome backyard neighbor).

 Bummer.

At 7:00, when I realized I wasn't going to go back to sleep, I laid in bed and read for the next hour and a half which was as welcome as sleeping in would've been.

When everyone was awake and dressed we left to go and do what girls do best....shop!

Only I must not be very good at it because the 2 things I went looking for I came home without. Oh well, I guess there will just have to be a next time.

When we were worn out from shopping and lack of sleep, we headed back to Provo. When I arrived Richard was hard at work building shelves for our food storage in the crawl space, which only meant one thing- the kids, especially the boys, had been left to their own devices.

This is never a good thing.

One has to wonder what happened in my absence, when you find my youngest dressed in Halloween clothes, a  full sized shovel in the middle of the kitchen, every surface of said kitchen covered, and a mystery substance on the floor that is wet yet very sticky.......never mind, I don't want to know.

 It doesn't matter anyway, I was home.