Where Sasquatch Really Come From

It had been a long day and it was barely six in the evening. I had already been up for over 12 hours and a jam packed 12 hours they had been. It started with setting up and then holding my first yard sale from which we went immediately into the season's last T-ball and Coach pitch games. From there a hurried hour drive took us to a baby shower for my niece Katie, who is expecting her first bundle of boy in September.

After basking in Katie's pregnant glow and gorging ourselves with lemon bars & various brownies, we pulled back onto I-15 to make our way home with a clear docket for the rest of the night. With the radio playing some of our favorite songs we settled in for the ride and I found myself lost in the hypnotic turning of the wheels when from behind me a chant began,

"PU-BER-TY! PU-BER-TY! PU-BER-TY!

At first, I wondered if I was so tired that I might actually be dreaming, but after stretching and shifting in my seat, the chant continued,

"PU-BER-TY! PU-BER-TY! PU-BER-TY!"

I concluded I was very much awake.

My next thought went to the possibility of the 5 Hour Energy shot I downed earlier and the Diet Coke I was currently sipping had created an overload of caffeine and was causing some sort of auditory hallucination. Because really, how would my almost seven year old know the word puberty? And why, in heaven and earth, would he be chanting it?

Certain my ears were deceiving me, I turned to Ashton sitting in the passenger seat wearing an amused look on his face as he shattered my theory.

"You know he's chanting puberty..."

Figuring I had to say something I decided on the blunt facts.

"Ben, you don't even know what puberty is."

The chanting ceased. Silence ensued. Wonderful, non-questioning silence.

Until Dallin in the far back decided to chime in.

"What is puberty, Mom?"

My mind shifted into high gear as I noticed Ashton stiffen a little in the seat next to me.

I decide to go with blunt facts again.

"It's when between the ages of 11-14 when your voice gets deeper and you start growing hair on your face, under arms and swimsuit area."

Agonizing groans erupt from the very back seat.

"Oh, NO! That should be illegal!"

Laughter from Ashton beside me.

Ben innocently asks, "So puberty is all about hair?"

Dallin, having suddenly become an expert, answers with, "Yep! Hair, hair, EVERYWHERE! Puberty pretty much changes you into a Sasquatch."

I turn the radio up a little louder and figure that would suffice....at least, for now.

Homecoming

I heard the keys in the door shortly after 8:00 a.m. I ran down the stairs and threw the bolt back. There, after spending a week in a typhoon and tropical storm ravaged Philippines, stood Richard- exhausted, jet lagged, and wanting nothing more than to go to bed. But there were the little people. Little people who had a week full of adventures to fill daddy in on. Little people who talk a mile-a-minute and crawl all over daddy like a jungle gym. Little people simply bursting with excitement that daddy is home.

I think it wore them both out.

I'm so glad when Daddy comes home

Glad as I can be

Clap my hands and shout for joy

And climb upon his knee.

Put my arms around his neck,

hug him tight like this.

Pat his cheek and give him what?

A great big... NAP!

A Few More...

Just a couple of Kid-isms that recently happened and one that I forgot in the last batch.


Ben- "I wish I had really long, puffy hair."
Me- Why in the world would you want really long, puffy hair?"
Ben- "Cause then I'd have a built in pillow."

Ben trying out what really long, puffy hair would be like with Richard's travel pillow.

A conversation with Dallin after he listened to me tell a neighbor about a time Ashton got lost and I thought he'd been kidnapped.
Dallin- "I remember when that happened. I must have been really little, but I still remember it."
Me- "Sorry, dude, you weren't born yet. You were still in my tummy."
Dallin- "Well, then I must have been watching through your belly button 'cause I remember it!"



A bit of info you need to know about this next one- I am not a fan of the really tight T-shirt trend. They are all well and fine if you have the figure to wear them, which about 90% of the population do not- including myself. I don't really want to look at my own rolls and bulges and figure that more than likely, no one else does either. So the majority of my shirts are loose and probably unfashionable, but I don't care. The other day I pulled out my flag T-shirt to try on; it's one of the clingier shirts I own, but I was feeling pretty bulge free and thought it was loose enough to get away with .

I thought wrong.... according to Emma.

Emma- (While patting my tummy) "You look like you're going to have a baby!"
Me- "Are you saying I'm fat?"
Emma- "Yep, really, REALLY fat!

I guess I need some more core work and a new flag shirt.

Or perhaps just a new daughter.

 Just kidding...kind of. ;)

Kid-isms

If you are reading this then my gamble was successful. I have been experiencing technical difficulties with my computer that involve weird noises and smoke! Obviously, I have been hesitant to use it, and have been using my e-reader for the majority of my electronic communication. But, as amazing as it is, it can't do everything (or at least very well) so if I successfully post these few kid-isms you'll know that my computer worked without creating a campfire in my lap!

Yeah, I'm still going to have it checked out. Sorry, no smores for you.

Dallin Said...

"We had a substitute in library today, so we went outside and drew pictures with sidewalk chalk. But she wouldn't let us write words- not even Jimmer or BYU, so I just drew a bunny with 2 chainsaws."

"Dad, did they even have cars in Spain when you were on your mission?"

"Mom, I need a picture of myself to put in my room."

Ben-isms

While hiking up the mountain on the trail to the 'Y'- "Why don't they get rid of all these rocks?"

*Singing what he learned in Primary* "Praise to the Man who commuted with Jehovah..."

Emma's Three Sense

"I think Daddy should be the prophet when he grows up....no, no, the ice cream man!"

Emma: "Have you always been a mommy?"
Me: "No. I became a mommy after I grew up and married daddy."
Emma: "And then you moved here and I came to your porch?"
In my head- "Yeah, something like that. Something just like that...

Serenade of Support

Sometime in January, our family sat down to set some goals for the year just like we always do. I didn't have to think very hard of what I wanted to work on and I only had two goals in mind. First, to do better with my personal scripture study and prayers (this is #1 every year *sigh*), and second, to run Ogden's Half Marathon beating my time from last year.

As hard as number one seems to be for me to perfect, getting ready for number two  has seemed like the most insurmountable of tasks this year. Thanks to schedules, weather, sickness, some right hip pain and a great big heaping dose of self doubt, training for Ogden has just seemed too big for me. But I've done it. I've put in my time.  But over the last few weeks, as I have completed my longer runs, I have come to an awful realization- I won't reach my goal of beating last year's time. It hasn't been enough. I just can't get my pace where it needs to be.

I know...I hear you, "Oh WAH!" And yes, I know that I am lucky to be able to at least run it even if I'm not as fast as I would like to be. But I think that the human spirit has this innate desire to improve, after all isn't that why we feel compelled to set goals and make resolutions in the first place? So not improving is somewhat of a blow to me. This doesn't mean I'm not going to try my darnedest and hope that the downhill nature of the course and the adrenaline rush that race day brings won't provide some sort of miracle, but I'm not counting on it.

I love to run and I love that I get to run this particular race with my brother and his wife, even though, they leave me eating their dust. I also love getting to the home stretch, physically and mentally exhausted, and hear someone yell my name followed by some sentiment of support. It is an incredibly amazing feeling and makes the finish line come that much faster. This brings me to blow #2-

This little band, my little band, of cheerleaders won't be there at the finish line to cheer me on this year. There are other things going on at home Saturday that are more important for them to attend, which means I will also lose my biggest cheerleader (he will hate that I'm calling him that). So I was wondering if you would do me a favor. Would YOU come cheer me on?








Ha! I almost had you there, didn't I? I mean, I wouldn't discourage you from coming, but it is in Ogden about an hour and a half away, it starts at 7:00 am which is really early for a Saturday morning, and I realize that all of that is a lot to ask. Plus, I'm sure most of you are involved with some of the things that are keeping my own personal cheerleaders from coming.

So can I ask you to do me another favor instead? Would you support me by choosing a song to put in my play list that I will run to? It can be whatever you want it to be- just leave the title and artist in the comments section. It can be that song that really inspires you, the one with the really great beat that helps you clean the house when you really don't want to, or just whatever you would run to if you were running a half marathon. You've never run a half marathon? Well here's your chance. For 3 to 5 minutes, or however long your song lasts, you will be my sole running buddy and supporter.

Please, don't worry; I like pretty much any music, unless it is twangy-wangy-tear-in-my-beer country. Last year, I had Frank Mills playing The Music Box Dancer in honor of my parents and AC/DC's Thunderstruck, for my three older brothers with a little bit of everything else sprinkled in between. Believe me you can't go wrong because I believe that most of the magic that music holds is in the memories and the people it is associated with.  So give me some awesome music to serenade me with support and let's go make us an incredible memory this weekend.

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.

It's All in the Family

Something interrupted me in a deep sleep. Being a creature of habit, I glance at the clock- 1:42 a.m. A dark figure in the doorway poses me the question, "What now?"

Normally, dark shadowy figures standing in my doorway in the wee hours of the morning would have given me heart failure, but this figure didn't have the voice of a crazed maniacal serial killer, just the endearing voice of my 12 year old.

My mind considered his question, "What now?" and honestly, since it was almost 2 a.m. I thought, "How about going back to bed?" Instead, I think, I answered, "About what?"

"The rocket!" came the reply.

"The rocket..."

"It looked like a light bulb."

My head was reeling. Was it my half awake state or the cold medicine I had taken before bed that made this conversation so hard to follow and even harder to comprehend? I didn't get a chance to figure it out before the conversation continued.

"The rocket looked like a light bulb?" I had to ask.

"Yeah, and there's only one left."

I just sat there thankful the room was dark so he wouldn't see the confusion written all over my face. He jumped up on the bed and sat down, "So....what should I do?"

In my stupor I figured he was talking about either: 1- NASA's rockets or 2- His homemade rocket which consists of a film canister and Easter egg half glued on top and fueled by baking soda & vinegar, so I asked him point blank, "Are you talking about the government's rocket or your own?"

The irritated answer came as, "The government's!"

"Well, honey, if they are the government's rockets there's not much you can do."

He was quiet. My mind was trying to process everything in the ensuing silence and that is when it dawned on me...he was sleep walking and talking. He was taking after my side of the family!

I got him settled and back to sleep, but in the morning he could remember the last part of our bizarre conversation, so the questions began and the stories were told.

Stories that included those of my brothers mistakenly using the hamper as the toilet, how I got the scar on the right side of my forehead, and Richard threw in a few of the crazy things I used to tell him in my sleep as a newlywed. And of course, we had to tell the story to top all sleepwalking stories, about the night my brother, Nate, left the house, walked across our busy intersection to a friends home where he was dreaming he was to tell my other brother it was time to come home. Luckily, he woke up before he rang the doorbell. But the best part of the story? He did it all in his Yoda pajamas and bare feet.

So although, Ashton may have gotten Richard's eyes, sensitive demeanor, and intellect, I'm happy to know he got the fun DNA from me. I will sleep better at night knowing I have passed on something worth while. Well, after last night's little episode maybe that's not true, but at least, I'll have the laughs they produce to keep me comfortable while I'm awake.