Smoking = Stupid

I've always told my kids that people who smoke are stupid. And we're not even allowed to use that word in our house, so you know I'm being serious when I say people who smoke are s-t-u-p-i-d.

Now, when we (my children and I) approach smokers, I remind them not to point or stare and say, "Look at Stupid, Mama!", because, well, that just wouldn't be nice.

So for those of you who smoke (especially those of you who started smoking in the last 25 years), the cat's now out of the bag. I've been teaching my children that you're stupid. The only reason I use this term is they know what stupid means by the age of 2. I can't very well tell my 2-year old child that "people who smoke have low moral character because they give into peer pressure, don't care about their bodies or their families' bodies, can't kick an addiction even though there's lots of help out there, etc." They just don't get it. At least not until they're older.

Though I'm sure I've offended some of you by this, now I'll get to my question. What do I do when my child finds out our president smokes? I mean, with Bush, we were at least able to slowly - but surely - realize his faults, but my 7-year old wants to know why our leader would give into peer pressure.

What do you think?

or are you busy lighting up?

Fortun[at]e Turtle

I found a turtle today.

In a parking lot.

Does that mean something? Would it mean something if I was Chinese? I mean, does it mean something for my future? Because I don't know about you, but my fortune cookies are always dead on.


It was big - as turtles go. The shell's circumference was the size of a dinner plate. Okay, actually it's really crazy to find a turtle that big in a parking lot (no where near water - might I add). I was driving away when I saw it. Luckily, I didn't hit it. Because the parking lot was of Emmy's preschool, I picked it up (salmonella and all) and took it to a nearby teacher so she could show it off to all the kiddos.

Weird?

Weird.

Lent

I meant to write about this last week, but I was busy giving up vices.

In all seriousness, while I'm LDS and we don't really practice lent, I have been since one of my good friends introduced me to the idea when I was 18. He was catholic and would give up alcohol every year for 40 days. While this was quite a feat for him, as a mormon, I always thought he was crazy to go back to it on Easter.

Typically lent is a time for fasting, prayer and other acts of penance for forty days. The three traditional practices to be taken up with renewed vigor during Lent are prayer (showing a love towards God), fasting (showing a love towards self), and almsgiving (showing a love towards neighbor).

Today, many people give up a specific vice of theirs, and try to add something that will bring them closer to God, then they'll [try to] give the time or money spent doing that to charitable purposes or organizations.

I am even more simplified than that. I just give something up for the forty-day time period. (You'd think the beginning of the contest would have been me giving up happiness for forty days - but alas, happiness is not a vice in my mind.)

While I still give a double take at the lady behind me in the supermarket sporting the ash cross on her forehead, I am reminded of that certain vice I'm giving up that season. But I wonder if I'm alone in my community of [mostly LDS] readers. As a religion, we fast and pray once a month, so maybe you don't find it necessary or worth while. So I ask you:

Ever thought about participating?
(Please don't indicate as to what you give up. I already judge you.)

Emmy's New 'Do

Emmy has wanted to cut her hair since I did last summer. I've been trying to put it off for as long as possible. But after Steven had to get her ready for church one Sunday morning, I was out-voted.

Miss Tabitha offered to come over and do the honors.

Is that shock on her face?

Tabitha cut 10 inches. We thought that would be enough.

For a week Emmy had this adorable haircut that came just below her shoulders. I found that every time I offered to do her hair, she'd politely decline and say something about wanting to just leave it down now that it was short.

But for some reason the haircut just wasn't working for any of us. It was still too long to leave down (it did make really cute pigtails which she declined - not as politely). She finally said, "Mom, it's just not short enough. I want it short like yours."

So this time we went into Tabitha's salon.

Without further ado, here is a 'do.

Now I've wanted to cut my hair since she did (and since her hair is actually way, way cuter than mine), I'm going in tomorrow to Tabitha for a much needed fix-me-up.

It is killing me that she looks so old.

Collector of....Things

The girls and I were walking out the door on our way to drop Emmy off at preschool. She seemed to be struggling under the weight of her backpack. When I took it from her, I realized she most definitely had some extra weight in there. I did a little digging and this is what I found.


Moral of the story is: don't think that having a girl will free you of finding sticks, rocks, and yes, sometimes frogs, in her possession.

Sunday Supper

In my religion we take the 10 commandments pretty seriously.

And number 3 (or is it 4?) is my sanctuary. It means I can take an entire day off from my weekly responsibilities. It always has. Growing up I never did homework, practiced my piano, did chores, etc.

As a mother, it's a little different. I can't just ignore my children on Sunday (that's what Wednesdays are for)! But while there are certain things that have to get taken care of, I try to do them as simply as possible. One of them is cooking.

I grew up with a non-traditional, but still large Sunday dinner every week. Mashed potatoes with gravy, rolls & homemade jam, corn, salad, chicken nuggets (that would be where the non-traditional aspect is - I know, that's for another blog another day), ice cream for dessert.

It was delicious. Especially over all the wonderful church gossip (gossip is NOT one of the 10!).

But throughout our entire marriage I've never been able to be that person. Sunday is my day of rest. I don't feel like cooking a huge meal. It takes hours of preparation (not to mention quite a chunk of $) to prepare a decent roast, and some heavenly rolls. Is this really an appropriate thing to be doing on the Sabbath?

What do you think?

Do you prepare a huge meal simply because of tradition?
or is it your only day to actually sit down with your family for a decent meal?
(if that's the case you have other changes to worry about.)

Or

Are you all about tuna on toast with some Doritos on the side?

Last Week to Join

I still have people asking about the contest. This is the last week to join. If I haven't heard from you by the 31st of January, I'll know you don't want in on $1600!

Email me: mickmonkeys[at]gmail[dot]com

I really can't believe that it got this big! I'm quite pleased with myself -- except I'm afraid that even though I'm in the contest I'm still not going to get a piece of the $1600.

This is definitely going to be at least a yearly thing (though I liked the pre-holiday one I ran from July to October). Maybe it will have to be semi-annual.

And I think I'm going to take my own 10% off the top next time. It's been a surprising amount of work!

I'm a Winner!

...not to be confused with weener.

In early December, my friend and I ran a booth at a local Baptist Church Bazaar. We sold handmade children's accessories. Besides having a blast and making a little money. I actually won a drawing!

It was this awesome basket full of Fall-themed decorations.

While you might be thinking 'Wow, that's pretty cool. I'd give just about anything to be Mindy!' You are thinking that, right? My other friend (who was running an entirely different booth with really yummy mint brownies - I'm starving, work with me) won a brand new Dell Laptop. It was quite the bazaar. Those Baptists know how to throw a party.

Can you tell I'm having to back-track my blogs? It's January. I'm bored and don't have anything else to blog about.

Ideas anyone?

It'll be 70

While I'm enjoying my pleasant winter weather here, I can't help but reminisce some good times in Utah powder.

Gearing up is the most important part.

There was much to do out in the snow.

Like Bradley making snow angels.

Olivia earning her king-'o-the-hill status.

Snowmen building with the cousins.


And most importantly, sledding through
the snow-packed streets of the neighborhood.

"couretous" Drivers

In the past week there have been three separate occasions when someone was trying to be a courteous driver and nearly caused and accident. Each time the other driver had the right-of-way but they waved me on.

I hate that.

The first time I was turning left out of a parking lot onto a [very busy] 4 lane highway with a median for turners. She was making a left turn from the highway into my same parking lot but waited for me to go first. I honked at her to go ahead when there was an obvious clearing, but she just sat there and waved at me. Like she's doing me a favor.

Argh!

The other two times were similar: a 4-way stop when two of us get there at the same time and he was clearly on my right. A parking lot mishap: when she had the right of way and waved me out.

Let me be clear when I say I hate rude drivers that pull out in front of you or cut you off in any way. Or idiots that tailgate. But if being courteous means breaking the law ('cause that's what you're doing people!) than I don't want your manners.

BTW, Texas drivers suck. They won't pull out into the intersection while trying to turn left when the light is a yielding green. They won't pull over onto the shoulder when they're about to turn right. I don't blame them. They're simply products of a broken system. They don't have driver's ed offered in public school here. If Mom and Dad approve of them getting their license, then it's a-okay.

I just tripped getting off my soap box.

I probably won't be able to drive for a week with this concussion.

Oh ya, you can't leave a comment if you're from Idaho.

Resolve

I hate New Year's resolutions. I don't mind regular resolutions, but New Year's ones (is that correct grammar?) are lame. It's too formal. It's too much pressure. It's too easy to fail.

This is why my contest started on the 5th and not the 1st.

It's not too late to join.

The pot's well over $1000.

Social Experiment

Steven and I made a long trip out to Albuquerque; our first stop on a two day journey to northern Utah. We decided to take the route that lead us through NM instead of OK KS & CO just in case weather decided to get ugly and we couldn't make it over the Rockies.

Needless to say the trip is boring - actually to the point of tedium. So we concocted a little social experiment as we were driving through west Texas. We thought it would be interesting to pull over after a long stretch of nothingness and just a mile and half before a gas station and feign being out of gasoline. We wanted to see how long it took for anyone to stop.

Once we stopped we called AAA to see how long it would be before they could come help they said it would be just over an hour (we had to make the experiment realistic - most people have access to a cell phone and would call for help). Then we waited to see if some sweet Samaritan would beat them.

We all got out of the car. We ate a few of our snacks. We tried to keep the kids out of surrounding cacti. We had awkward bathroom breaks. And we waited.

15 minutes have passed.

Nobody.

A half and hour has passed.

Nada.

50 minutes after we stop, someone finally pulls over in with their motor home. He and his son get out and tell us they can pull us to the next town. Steven explains to them that we've already called for help and not to worry about us; someone would be here shortly. He also explained to him that he is the first person in almost an hour to stop and even ask if we're okay. Our Samaritan tells us, "I saw the kids and you just have to stop if little ones are involved."

What in the world was wrong with the other thousand cars that drove by us in that hour? I was a little disappointed in humanity.

Oh, and if you haven't already figured it out, there was no feigning. There really is nothing in all of west Texas. You can't tell yourself, "we'll get gasoline just around the next corner." Because there is no gasoline. For a really long time.

We're really awesome. And we feel really smart.

BTW, we're up to $840. Anyone else want in on this action.

The Recital

It was quite the event. In fact, you all truly missed out on an exceptional display of musical talent. I swear I'm not biased.

First of all, every single one of the students looked adorable (except, of course, Jesse, he looked, um, awesome or tough or something else a 14-year-old would rather be called). I required them to be in dressy attire. I also spoke to them about recital manners (ie: no talking, no shuffling of papers, don't even breathe if you can help it - during a performance. Oh, and no gum....that's just tacky) and how we treat others how we would like to be treated while we played our piece(s). Then I told them to go home and tell their families. I can't stand rude audience members (also, why I hate the movie theater - another blog for later).

Secondly, they all did an AMAZING job.

For the record:

Emmy M*: Old MacDonald

Bradley M*: Ode to Joy

Steven M*: Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring

Madison H*: Who’s on Third? & Up on the Housetop

Alison T*: When the Saints Go Marching In & Jingle Bells

Jackson V*: Oh Come All Ye Faithful & Haydn’s Surprise Symphony

Hannah V*: All I Want for Christmas & Beauty & The Beast

Ethan S*: Merry Farmer & Silent Night

Mairzey N*: We Three Kings of Orient Are

Sadey N*: We Three Kings of Orient Are & Solfeggietto in C Minor

Jesse N*: Hello, Beautiful & Apologize

Sorry about the pics. I still need to get some from Angela (thanks again for letting us use your home!) because Steven was holding a wiggly Olivia and our pictures turned out a little fuzzy. Also, the reason for no picture for Steven.

But he was adorable, too.

Sample Lady

I think I've been screwed by the sample lady one too many times.

Every time I get home from the store with that amazing sweet and sour pork or that delectable sausage it seems that I either
A) can't cook it properly (because I don't have a mini grill/mini oven/mini steamer like they do in the store) or
B) I can't stand more than one bite of said sample.

Which makes me think: would I like the food as much if I had a plateful at the store? Is this why they only give out samples on those flimsy toothpicks? (which, by the way, can and do give splinters!)

It also makes me realize what a sucker I am for suggestive sales and impulse buys. Thanks a lot, Dad.

...maybe if we ate dinner with toothpicks or out of 2 oz cups.....

Anyone else out there a sucker and willing to admit it?

Santa Claus Look Alike

I've been getting tapped on the shoulder, "pssssst"ed at, and emailed.


People are wondering about the upcoming contest. You know, the contest to make us de-Santa-fy. While a few of us have facial hair, we're a gladly avoiding this subject (buy yourself some good tweezers for Christmas!). This is more about the mid-section part of Santa we're trying to get rid of.

So people, start spreading the word. But keep in mind that while this is an "on your honor" contest, be sure to spread the word to honorable people. It's your money we're talking about.

NEW RULES:
We've upped the anty to $40.
You're NOT in the contest UNTIL I get your money.
First weigh-in is January 5th.
You can't join after January 30th.

(other rules apply....ie: 12 weeks, no surgeries, weekly weigh-ins, aliases.....)

email me here: mickmonkeys[at]gmail[dot]com and I'll send you my address for payment

If you need an explanation, we're doing THIS again.

No Internet

I went for an entire week without the internet.

Not because I'm some crazy radical anti-internet person, but because I was playing with my circuit breaker box trying to figure out our Christmas lights and flipped one too many breakers and fried my modem.

Now I have to decide what to blog about. There are just so many things....

Succumbing

Steven and I signed another year on our lease.

While swear words swam around in my head, I still felt like we were making a good decision. And though I feel a bit like someone who announced that she thought she was pregnant before she even checked, I'm here to announce to everyone at all at once (because no one wants to re-visit semi-depressing news) I'm not expecting a house (or a baby - just to be clear) any time soon.

So,

to my neighbors: sorry, you're not rid of us.

to my bank: your welcome, you get to keep our money.

to my friends: thanks, for not becoming totally annoyed with us and all of our questions amidst all of this (or at least thanks for not showing it).

to my readers: you'll be reading from me more. All my extra energy was spent on hunting. Sorry lots of it will be catch up from missed events.

to my husband: happy shopping! Yes, we have to make this house more livable for the next year and that means I get new furniture.

Gassy

I paid $1.73 for a gallon of gasoline today.


I think I cried a little bit.

Frazzled

Can I just tell you about my day?

No? Too bad.

6:20 am - hit snooze 3 more times.
6:30 am - beg Steven to go wake up Bradley while I get dressed and rub the sleep out of my eyes.
7:00 am - send the men off to fulfill their daily duties.
7:02 am - feed the chief (Olivia).
7:30 am - clean that mess up. Or not.
7:45 am - find out that Emmy doesn't want to go to school because her tummy is still upset.
8:00 am - get Olivia dressed, and make a bed or two. Or none. This is a confessional after all.

It is at this precise moment that I realize what the rest of my day is going to be like. So to save you minute by [obnoxious] minute detail of my day, I will quickly say that I had 7 special orders to fill from last weekends craft fair (different blog - maybe tomorrow), cards to make for tonight's card club, and a house to clean for my VTs to come over at 11:45 - even though it ended up really being at 1:10.

No, no. That's not the fun part. I had piano lessons to teach from 3:30 to 5 and Bradley had to be at his soccer team's party at 6pm (he was getting his trophy and he would have punched me in the mouth had I told him we couldn't go). My card club was meeting at 7pm (at Chuy's - duh, you go to anything when it's at Chuy's) and my book club was due to meet at 8pm (and I actually had read the book this month!).

Well, sure, that's a busy night and all, but just leave Ste with the kids and make your rounds. Oh ya, Steven had plans with the fellas at 8pm.

I had the audacity to think I was going to be able to do it all.

(Just a sidenote: these sort of days have been happening for two weeks. I won't even get into what my tomorrow looks like. What's wrong with me?)

I was a bit frantic on the phone when Steven called at 2:03. He could tell by the pitch of my voice. (I also think he could hear my arms flailing about and my eyes bulging out of my head - I don't know how, but he can hear those things.) He laughed a little and said, "It's pronounced, 'nnnnoooooooo,'" as if I were hard of hearing. He thinks I don't know how to say "no" to people. I totally know how to say no! I just don't want to. I really wanted to do all of those things tonight. And I really wanted Steven to do his thing tonight.

That didn't happen.

So to my friends that I sadly missed at Chuy's, you'll be getting your cards this weekend. After I've slept for 12 hours straight. Mostly because my eye is twitching out of control.

BTW, (picture me with my hands on my hips) I was a student advocate for the D.A.R.E. program my senior year. I totally know how to say "NO" to some stuff.

So, hmph. (I just stuck my toungue out at you)

Do you ever have a hard time saying, NO?
What experience made you learn your lesson?

Karma

Olivia found my toothbrush.

Not laughing as hard.