Things You Should Never Do

~ Say to a chubby girl, "It's chubby-girl cold out here today."

~ Take your dog for a walk in the cemetery and leave the leash at home.

~ Go to Cub Scout Day Camp and forget the suncreen, the hand sanitizer, or the Band-Aids.

~ Ask nosy questions or gossip (except to your husband, who doesn't care).

~ Let anyone - i.e., the gossip topic - find out you asked nosy questions and gossiped.

~ Say, "Is that funeral home humor?" when a funeral home employee cracks an innocent joke.  (They feel really bad when you do this.)

~ Eat things made out of honey when you know you're allergic to honey and don't like being itchy.

~ Cut your own hair in a fit of despondency or extreme giddiness, or because you looked at someone's hair and thought, "Good grief, I could do that."

~ Dry dust.

~ Stop kissing, hugging, or tickling the child just because he's fifteen.

~ Grab strange men's butts at the mall.

~ Go without a bra if you're well-endowed (and by "well-endowed" I mean "lop those things off, you'd be fifty pounds lighter")

~ Stop laughing.

That's How You Know...

... that you've watched Enchanted too many times in a row.

 We bought the movie Saturday and have probably watched it 25 times since then.  For the last two days in a row, at 4:30 AM, I've awakened with itchy allergy nose and "THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW (how does she know that you love her?)..." going through my head.  It does NOT do wonders for your sleeping habits. 

Other than that, I love everything about this movie.  I love the humor, I love Giselle sewing such fantastic clothes, I love the big dance numbers and AWESOME songs (except when they wake me up at night) and I love hating Susan Sarandon and her pathetic, Batman-villainesque lines ("It's time to take this tale to NEW HEIGHTS!"). 

I'm not a fan of Patrick Dempsey that much.  He will forever be the geeky kid in Can't Buy Me Love, a movie I - reining myself in here - really don't like.  But I love Amy Adams.  Where on earth did they find her?

Melanie and Demeter haven't seen it yet so I'm taking it with me when I visit next month.  Have you experienced the magic that is Enchanted ?

Got my DAR number today.

(But first: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM :))

Went to the "members only" page of the DAR website and logged in.

Found some new cousins/fellow members of DAR/descendants of Philip Proctor.

Traced one line, saw that they started in New York state and ended in Utah. So yeah, they were Mormons. 

Googled the family name and found an autobiography of a cousin that someone had put online... he was a polygamist in Utah.

One of his wives had "Pratt" as her maiden name.

As in, Parley P. Pratt... was her dad.

I'm related to Parley P. Pratt by marriage.

"...and the wisdom of a man"

Carter's doing fine and his arm, as far as I can see with my non-Superman non-X-ray vision, seems to be healing well.  He hasn't attended school since last Friday, and won't be going back until next Thursday (he gets his cast on Wednesday and I'm not sending him to school in a splint) - but like his teacher says, "It's kindergarten.  It won't kill him to miss some school."  I love her lack of self-importance.

I became an official member of the D.A.R. today, met another new cousin this week and wrote two genealogy posts (I know - boring).  Brian is super busy with soccer and his new position at work.  Brennan received his order for Ninja throwing stars in the mail - apparently, they are legal in this state - and practices throwing them every day after school.  Bella attended her very last Activity Day yesterday and is finishing everything for her Faith in God award - she turns twelve on the 30th.  Harrison and I went to Cub Scouts yesterday and mostly enjoyed it.  Rosalind took a big nap today and refuses to go to bed.

Carter Broke His Arm

On Saturday the 12th, Carter and Harrison were playing with their friend Nicky. Nicky's mom dropped them off here about 6:00 and they met Hubby outside. She and Hubby were talking and Carter went to play on our little play structure. In a few minutes Hubby heard crying and saw all the neighborhood kids gathered around Carter. Carter got up and walked over, holding his arm and crying. Hubby ran in, got the keys, and told me he was taking him to the hospital. Apparently Carter had been pushed down the slide, fallen off the side, and fell face down on the ground, putting out his arms to catch himself.

These pictures are kind of gross - sorry.

His hand is totally out of alignment with his arm.

 The doctor called it a "green stick" fracture - it didn't break totally apart, but was more like a bent tree branch. We all thought it looked like the scene in the Harry Potter movie, where Harry breaks his arm and the professor puts a spell on it and the bone disappears... ewwwwww.

Pretty gross looking.

Carter was so brave. He hardly cried, unless someone suggested they were going to touch his arm - then he would freak. Otherwise he was really big about it.

This is the first splint they gave him.

Ahhhhh....morphine.

He was feeling pretty good after they started his IV. They told him they were putting a "straw" in his arm so it could drink the medicine. Pretty smart.

Pretty sleepy.

They gave him the white bear in the X-ray department. Later, after his surgery, the nurse bandaged the bear's arm and put it in a little sling. It was so cute.

Hospital jammies

He ate so late in the day that they didn't want to wait the six hours and then set his arm at two in the morning, so they had us spend the night and set it around 8:00 AM on Sunday. Hubby and I both stayed with him.

After surgery.

Carter slept till around noon, then woke up and was ready to eat immediately. No throwing up, or anything - we were so glad. Pretty soon he was up and walking around, going to the bathroom, and taking oral pain medication, so we were able to go home. This picture was taken about the point that he was eating in bed, watching Meet the Robinsons on TV - the hospital has movies on demand - and just loving life. He even said, "This is fun." He cried when it was time to go home, he was having such a great time at the hospital... which I guess is good.

So far at home, he's been back to his normal self. He refuses to take the pain medication and hasn't complained about hurting, so he must have a much higher tolerance for pain than I have. I'm grateful for good doctors and nurses, hospitals, medicines, and care, and that everything went as well as it did.

Springtime

Carter and Rozzie dancing

Having a good time...

Last Friday was really nice and I didn't have the little boy I normally babysit, so we went to the park and played. It was a beautiful day. 

Spring is here!

Harrison took this lovely one of Carter

During Spring Break, Hubby took Brennan and Bella to Mt. Hood to go snowboarding. Silly us, we forgot the sunscreen.

Here's Brennan the next day - blistering sunburn and all.

Rosalind, gesturing wildly

She wanted pants on her head, and then she wanted a picture.
???

Brennan with his favorite toy

I was out walking one day and saw this fence.

Looks like they're really trying to keep things private...

Here's the gate... and...

.

High on Claritin and M&Ms

Are your allergies bothering you? I showed up for my new calling yesterday without make-up, sounding completely congested, and with a hot washcloth semi-permanently attached to my right eye. It was the only way I could be stopped from rubbing my eyeball completely out of my skull. I'm not much of a medicine taker (constant drug references to the contrary), but by 3:30 yesterday I was begging for Claritin. It didn't even work last time, but I was so desperate - I was like, KIDS! BRING ME CLARITIN! (My allergies render me helpless. I'm sure you know the feeling.)

Of course, when the Claritin DOES work, it doesn't work right away. Brennan and Bella were then sent to the nearby store for chocolate. They brought back M&Ms, which soothed my itchy itchy mouth and took my mind off the river of slime sliding through my sinuses and the fact that the Cub Scouts would have to see their new Assistant Den Leader looking like utter doo-doo.

By the time Bunny came to get Harrison and me after Cub Scouts, I was a happy camper. Actifed always wiped me out and nothing else worked - but that Claritin did the trick. For the rest of the evening, I felt no pain and thought nothing but happy thoughts. I came home, sat down, let Bluebell make dinner and finished the crocheted washcloth I started yesterday afternoon. (A little-known side effect of Claritin is the sudden urge to crochet like mad.)

This was the kicker - when the ward Young Men came by to fetch Brennan's notebook to check on the address of a nearby less-active member, I did not retreat into my bedroom in a fit of embarrassed, "Holy crap, the living room just exploded and now Brothers B. and O. think I'm a terrible homemaker" anxiety. Oh, no. I was calm, I was relaxed, I was happily unsneezy, sitting in my mess surrounded by a jury of Brennan's peers.

And my family went to Taco Bell and brought me home a chalupa. All was well in Millie Zion.

Folks, there is indeed a "happy pill," and its name is Claritin ... and for the rest of the spring and summer, I will never again be without a pack of it somewhere on (or in) my person. That, and a big bag of M&Ms.

Martha Stewart thinks I toke up

I dreamed last night that Carter's kindergarten teacher was Martha Stewart, and she didn't want me helping in the class. I asked her what was up and she said, "Well, you always appear to be... what's the word I'm looking for..."

I helped her finish: "High?"

She did that standing-right-there-with-you-but-won't-make-eye-contact-out-of-discomfort thing. "Well..." she answered, and I went ballistic. "What are you saying? Do I smell like marijuana? Are my eyes dilated? What would make you even think that?" (Not to mention, why haven't you called Child Protective Services on me yet? You crappy teacher.)

In response, she quite pointedly eyeballed my clothing. I looked down at myself; my outfit screamed "OPIUM DEN." My hair was a mess and I think I was wearing Janis Joplin sunglasses.

Oh. Well.

I also dreamed I was stung by a million tiny bees, and throughout the rest of the night, no matter what else I was dreaming about, I was picking their tiny stingers out of my fingers; I dreamed about sneaking away from Sacrament meeting to play ping pong up in the gym with a few other bored ward sisters; about going shopping for fabric with Neenaw... I'm sure there was more...

Multnomah Falls on a Rainy Saturday

We went on a little outing with our friend Timmi and her family to Multnomah Falls, one of our favorite places in the Gorge.

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Break out the picket signs! It's Conference Time again!

I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be picking on the nice people who provide such awesome comic relief each and every Conference weekend, walking up and down the streets of Salt Lake City, trying to save us big stupid MORE-mons from ourselves.  But the naughty part of my spirit says, "Oh, come on, just do it.  Anything for the blog."

I mean, why not?  Picketing is the way to get things done.

Heaven knows, all the times I've picketed my children's dirty bedrooms, I've never been let down - they're always spotless within minutes.  When I go down to WinCo and march and chant and hold up signs saying, "Your Twinkies are too durned expensive" - immediate satisfaction.  Sometimes, I'll even get out my little finger-sized picket signs and hold them up to my scalp.  "Gray is gay!  Brown is ... what I'd rather have!"  I tell you, the transformation is amazing.

I really do wonder, though - how many Church members standing in line for Conference actually pay attention to these people?  If you took a poll of people who left the Church, what would be the percentage of people who said, "They were holding up a sign telling me I was going to hell, so I left"?

And if that's all it takes for them to leave... what kind of Church members were they in the first place?  Do we really need these people sitting around with us at ward potlucks, letting their children run up and down the cultural hall while they're eating our funeral potatoes?

Maybe these picketers are onto something.

Maybe next time we have a ward dinner, I'll picket it.  "No more hot dogs cut up into baked beans!"  "You call that thing a SALAD?"  "Just because you put cheese on your food storage barley casserole, don't think I'm coming near it without a taser and a HAZMAT suit!"

OK.  Well, enjoy Conference.  I know I will.  I just wish I could be down in Salt Lake... and I wish I could say that I had nothing but pure intentions... but...

I have a feeling that Super Soaker squirt guns would probably be involved.

"They picked him up - he was like a wet rag!"

"falagalagalag..."

 You know how old I am?  I used to listen to records when I was little.  My parents had awesome music, and my dad had a Bill Cosby comedy record called "Wonderfulness" - loved it.  That's what the above quote is from, off a routine called "Tonsils": "Ice cream!  We're gonna have ice cream!  And we're gonna eat it every night... when I get my first bowl of ice cream, I'm not gonna eat it.  I'm gonna smear it... all over my body... and I'm gonna put a green cherry in my navel... and I'm gonna be the most BEAUTIFUL CHOCOLATE SUNDAE you ever saw in your life!"

 *Applause*

JeanKnee and I were commiserating the other day about not having anything to blog about.  You know it's really true when I'm recycling old Bill Cosby bits I memorized when I was eight.

Yesterday for Spring Break, we did absolutely nothing all day.  I told myself, when it's two hours till Bri comes home, we'll get busy and clean up the house.  I always clean in the morning when I have energy, and by 5:00 the place is trashed again, so I'll just take his advice and try it the other way.  So I laid in bed and ate chocolate chip cookies and laughed and watched TV with Brennan and Bella.  I let the little boys play with the future juvenile deliquents outside.  I let Roz watch nonstop Nick Jr. and Nickelodeon.  And at 4:00...

The Great Computer Hassle of 2008 occurred.

Every time I went online, my desktop died.  All the shortcut icons, the task bar, and the "start" button just whoosh!  disappeared into thin air, never to be found again unless I restarted the computer.

Fifteen or so restarts later, I was on the phone, spending quality time with a 25-year-old Indian computer expert named Ahmet, whose wife (a former high school teacher) is four months pregnant with their first child.  Ahmet and I really bonded, due to his habit of asking cute questions like "Do you have any Indian friends?" to help pass the time.  (The answer was "No, but I love Parminder Nagra on ER.  And I have friends who love Bollywood movies.")  Ahmet likes the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears, and the last movie he saw was <em>10,000 B.C.</em> (and the one before that was <em>Rambo 4 </em>- at which confession, I had a hard time not snickering uncontrollably).  And some singer named Glenn something...

During this monstrously long phone call, my five children were banished to my bedroom so I could hear Ahmet's little accented voice telling me to click this and click that and say five "Hail Marys" and go kill a chicken and spread its blood on my keyboard... which made it somewhat sticky... but I'm happy to say that for the moment, my computer is once again working.  The five children endured their bondage by engaging in naughty behaviors such as sneaking out my window and flipping the still-un-put-away Easter baskets and their contents around my floor.  The little sweethearts.

This morning, Bri took the big kids snowboarding on Mt. Hood, and I'm here with the three little complainers ("That's hardly ANY Rice Krispies!  How come you never give me a LOOOOOOOOOOOT!!!") and my experiment in waiting till the end of the day to do housework, in my opinion, has failed miserably... so I guess I'll go get busy...

Especially since I have nothing to blog about today...

Score-age

(rhymes with "storage")

This week being Spring Break, our household schedule has been turned topsy-turvy.  I did absolutely nothing housey yesterday, not even dishes, so it should come as no surprise that Roz is eating her breakfast Jell-o out of a green sippy cup - but with a real spoon, not a plastic one.  I'm just that much on the ball.  In the meantime, the dishwasher is swashing away, and hopefully no one else will be hungry before I can get some bowls done.  "Starving!  My kids are starving!!!"

Yes, I said "breakfast Jell-o."  If Roz knows there is Jell-o in the house, that's what she wants.  Brennan is the same way, except with meat.  He won't eat cereal or toast, but he WILL break into the frozen dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and heat those up for his morning meal.  Such a little caveman.

So here was my day yesterday: email, shower, walk to the bank (except Frankie and her kids saw me and gave me a ride), walk to Value Village and score majorly cheap clothes-age (it's like a disease!  Someone help me!), go home, send Brennan and Bella to the mall, feed and dress the three youngest, walk to Albertsons for their two-for-one bags of chocolate chip cookies, and head up to Wal-Mart.  They had Easter money from Grannie to spend, and spend like mad they did.  Harrison and Carter are now the proud owners of a new basketball, four Hot Wheels cars, and a nifty mini-skateboard set each; Roz bought Barbie and her pooping dog Tanner, another Barbie outfit, and a red playground ball.

Value Village is AWESOME!!!  That store, it's... INCREDIBLE!  I did not know this, but Tuesdays are 99-cent Yellow Tag day.  If the thing has a yellow tag, on Tuesdays, no matter how much it regularly costs, you pay 99 cents for it.  I bought a small black lightweight umbrella for my purse (a must-have for this season's fashion) and a black jumper/jacket combo Mormon mommy dress thing, both for a BUCK.  And a pair of pants, which were $3.99.  I will be back next Tuesday for more yellow tag savings goodness, believe you me.

What I did not know about Barbie's pooping dog Tanner... brace yourself... is that you put little brown round dog food-looking things in a teensy dog food bowl, the dog magnetically sucks it into his little plastic gullet, you pull his tail and plop!  Out comes the dog food, completely undigested but looking remarkably turd-shaped, something you didn't notice when you put it in his bowl.  You thought, hey, what cute, round, brown, heavy-for-its-size dog food!  Now how does it turn into poop?  And then it hits you...

(And there, I will end it.)

After our shopping spree, we went to our church building (I still have a key!  Heee hehehhehehheheheh!!!) and played with our new balls.  I dazzled my children with my piano repertoire while they threw, shot baskets with, kicked, dribbled, wrestled over and enjoyed their new balls to the utmost.  Later, another family from the stake came and played with my kids.  A fun time was had by all.

Then Bri picked us up, we went home, I plucked a most interesting piece of mail from the mailbox (read about that on my genealogy blog, and we sped off to Wendy's to enjoy some poisonous, but still wonderfully tasty, fast food for dinner, just Bunny and me.  He dropped me at the FHC and I had more major find-age (OK, this is getting ridiculous), which I will not bore you with unless you really, really want me to - in which case, you can head over to the genealogy blog.  Because as we all know...

Genealogy is boring.

But I love it, and I had an amazing evening.  Can we say, "I heart Google"?

That was yesterday: an amazingly happy, sunny, sneezing-over-dandelions, sneaky-saving, cookie-enjoying, cousin-finding, major score-age day.