Temporary Home by Carrie Underwood

Blessings...make the weekend count...show the people you love that you love them.

Olympic Dreams and Mothers

I love the Olympic Games.
I have since I was a young girl watching

Olga Korbut on the high beam in 1972.

Do you remember her? 

She was so young, so far away from her home in Belarus,

and was doing wonderfully in the competition, but flubbed up on the parallel bars, and the little girl from the Cold Eastern Bloc, warmed everyone's hearts with her tear-filled eyes. I cried too. Then she came back and took gold! The gymnastics sports exploded worldwide because of her. There are entire generations of young women who don't know her, but at the time, she was responsible for filling gymnasiums with little girls who all wanted to "be like Olga." Myself included.

******** 

And I cheered for Dorothy Hamill in  '76,

whose Mother devoted hours upon hours of sacrifice,

driving Dorothy to practices, like many moms do everyday.

She had spunk and a thousand-watt smile.

And a haircut

that became a HUGE trend!

It was everywhere on everyone.

Myself included.

************************

Nancy Kerrigan and Dan Jansen in 1994

If you remember Nancy BEFORE she was whacked by the other crazy skater's camp (I'm not mentioning her name, because I don't like her), Nancy's backstory involved her legally-blind mother.  Her mother used to sit about 4 inches from a TV screen to even see her daughter perform. Their bond was touching. I wanted her to win for her mother.

Dan Jansen...he came in a favorite in 1988. He'd been skating since he was 4 years old, thanks, in part to his older sister, Jane.  Jane was battling leukemia in 1988 and hours before Dan's competition, a phone was put to Jane's ear so Dan could say, "I love you."  Jane died six hours later.  Dan's performance that day, did not result in a medal.In fact, he wasn't even wanting to compete. It was his Mom who encouraged him to finish what he had come there to do. But he didn't win.  He had his mind on other things.  He did return in 1994 and went home with the only gold medal he ever won.  If you remember this, he skated a victory lap around the rink with his young daughter, named Jane.

And on and on...

every Olympics I find my favorites

and cheer them on in my own little way

like millions of others.

This year has been no different.

Athletes with background stories of their own,

that test their commitment and skills

surface out of obscurity

and into our livingrooms

and our hearts.

This year,

for me,

it is Joannie Rochette.

An only child from Quebec

whose mother died unexpectedly last Sunday,

just two days before her competition.

Outsiders wondered aloud

if this young woman would be able

to focus on what lay before her,

and not collapse under her grief.

She determined that she would set out to do

what she and her mother had worked together

so hard on doing:

Shine at the Olympics.

Joannie would not let her mother down.

She would do her part,

do her best

and do it for her Mother.

She skated a flawless program.

And it was only afterwards that we saw any

emotion at all....

And together,

we mourned and we cheered with her.

Joannie Rochette elected after skating Tuesday night not to stop to talk to reporters. But, waiting for the scores in the kiss and-cry area, she said a few words in French. If you could lip-read, you could make out what she said: "Thanks, mom, for being with me "

"A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take."- Cardinal Mermillod

Open Letters to My People

SO I came across a FILE

with pics I hadn't seen...

which inspired these notes:

Dear Nana, Jennah, and Daisie:

What is this?

Why are you trying to look like escapees from a mental ward?

Dear Dani:

Did you notice Boofus' bunny ears?

And did you know you could bribe me of nearly everything I own,

just to hold the Ninja Baby?

Please bring him to see Granma this weekend.

I need my "ninja fix".

Dear Nana & Daisie:

You say you're sick of people comparing you?

I don't see it.

Dear Tisha:

Thanks for hanging out with the 14 yo

to help her organize her "accessories"...

you totally work the "Spice Girls" thing.

"Guhl Powah."

Dear Dean:

I love you.

Can't wait to see you this weekend.

You don't even have to drive.

I got it.

Dear David Scott and Tisha:

Please move to Colorado.

We miss you.

Enormously.

Dear Dara:

This is why you are not ready to date.

This, and the fact that you are not 16 yet.

But, I promise to whip this pic out

on your first date.

Dear Boofus:

Using your Lego hook to retrieve garlic bread

is something I hope you sell to the Olive Garden someday.

But for right now, at home,

you can just use your fingers.

Dear Caboose:
Please stop growing.

I don't want you to grow up and move away.

I'll miss your angel kisses too too much!

Stay little forever.

That's an order.

Dear Mr Wonderful:

Can you make it Summer yet?

I know there's four inches of snow in the yard,

but one word from you,

and it'd be gone.

I'm pretty sure of it.

Take me hiking

before I get old.

My bahooey and I thank you.

Oh,

you make my world better.

Love,

Momza

p.s. Dear Mr. Idaho:

You are entirely too proper

for our Hee Haw Gang,

I couldn't find a single pic of

you being silly.

Are you ever silly?

It's a Barbie World

The winter months in Colorado

can mean the yahoos have to be

creative....

and being the "A+++ Mom"

that the Caboose has named me,

I encourage them to use

their imagination.

In that realm,

I present to you:

Hawaii In the Bathroom

by The Caboose.

Of course,

we must take our pc's and cellphones with us.

But we keep them in the "changing area"--

next to the right sink,

next to the Ducky handsoap pump

and the beaded thingy with the chandelier.

And for propriety's sake,

the mouthwash will always wear an apron,

especially when the toilet

and the baby cradle are near

the toothbrushes.

Go! Gonzaga Bulldogs!,

Idaho spuds!

and

the USA!!

Apparently,

there will be food

cooked on the beach though.

Mrs. Potts will see to it.

Because Barbie,

well you can see

she has a broken leg

and Kent is getting a tan.

[shaking head]

this just says so much.

Sounds of Snow Days

Snow.
I love it.
I am a Miami native.
I never even saw snow
until I was 15 years old...
and I decided:

SNOW

is freaking

AMAZING!

It's been snowing here
for five days
in a row.
It's not "official" yet,
but we're waiting
for the "TWO HOUR DELAY"
to turn into a
SNOW DAY--
the kids are still tangled up in their
warm covers
faint smiles on their lips
waiting for the news that
SCHOOL IS CANCELLED.


Daisie came up early to leave
for Seminary--
astonished that it was a two-hour delay,
she bristled
dumped her backpack
dropped her shoes
and proclaimed her new destination
was
back in bed!



We had a really good Sacrament meeting
yesterday.
I mean,
really good...
it was a Missionary Homecoming.
My favorite kind.

The Returning Missionary, *B*,
shared his journey--
not just while on his mission,
but his journey to GET on his mission.
In his words,
he was "blessed to be diagnosed with bi-polar depression"
in high school.
You'd have to know his family
to understand his gratitude...
they can take a pig's ear and turn it into a silk purse.
(just like Mulan!--isn't that just pathetic that a Disney song has implanted itself in my brain and pops out at it's own pleasure?)

ANYWHO,
because of B's diagnosis,
he was told several times
by as many Bishops and Stake Presidents
that his illness and consequent medications
prevented him from serving a Full-time Mission.
Yet, he still had the desire to serve the Lord.
He and the Lord worked things out
in due time.
The Lord called a new Bishop--
who, let me just say,
is hands-down the Most Loving Bishop
on the Planet--
and whom, when he speaks,
speaks as though angels touch his words
before reaching our ears.
We love our Bishop!
He has known this young man
for many years
and between the two of them
and the Lord,
they worked out a
Service Mission plan
together.
He got to go to southern Colorado--
the hometown of his granparents,
Manassa
and work in the Bishop's Storehouse
and alongside the full-time missionaries
while living with his granparents.
For one year.
It fit his needs and his desires perfectly.




Daisie just surfaced,
"Good-bye, Mom."
She's off to school.
Nope it's not a Snow Day,
just a snowy day.


Still, it's a Day. And I'll take it.

Behind the Scenes at the Palace

It's been snowing in Colorado Springs
for most of this week
and we still only have about 4 inches total
on the ground.
So I'm not complaining.
Four inches is totally livable.
********
We had our returned missionary here
for 6 days
and he returned to his midwest home
on Thursday,
happy I think that he had time in his former mission
and we enjoyed his visit.
Good people make my life,
and he is always welcomed back.
My mother-instincts reveal already
where he will fit in our
forever-after.
But, I am still Switzerland.
***********

Daisie vacilllates between the rational
 young woman she wants to be
and the child-woman she is at fourteen,
so that every time I see her
it's like meeting someone new at dinner.
She says she thinks she's "bi-polar",
I say she's just a teenager,
she asks how I know the difference.
I don't know.
I just know.
****************
The youngest yahoos begged me
B.e.g.g.e.d
me
to take them to a
school sock-hop...
all week long that's all I heard about
sock hop
sock hop
sock hop
So we dressed them up fifties-style
and went...
and neither of them danced.
They ran around looking for friends,
eating cupcakes
and pizza,
while I stood, holding their coats,
their napkins and leftover treats,
having a deija-vu moment
as I have done this same exact thing
for the past bazillion years
for all of the kids...
I stood there and thought of all the
school parties,
concerts,
science fairs,
and other school functions I've attended
over the years
and decided that I could've gotten an
MBA
with the many hours I've given away
in the corridors of schools.
And then I smiled.
Apparently, I'm a good Mom.
Not a great Mom...
I know that,
but good enough--
the Caboose thanked me
as we walked two blocks to our car
in the snow
after the sock hop was over.
That was worth an MBA.
*****************
We had our Saturday Morning Breakfast
as usual
only there were six missionaries there
instead of the usual two...
six, because Elder Tom L. Perry is in town
and all the missionaries were meeting with him.
So we made enough pancakes to fill a font
and they left with full tummies.
Naming names here in case you might know them:
Elder Wasden from Nampa, Idaho.
Elder Bowman from Maryland.
Elder Panek from California.
Elder Slade from Idaho.
Elder Grilliot from Illinois.
Elder Gemill from Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada.
******************

Mr Wonderful got a promotion.
We prayed he would
and he did.
And now,
I am having "Prayer's Remorse".
He is never home.
Not for dinner.
Not for homework.
Not for Sock hops
or Saturday Morning Breakfast.
When he is home,
he's so outta touch with "home"
that it's like he's a visitor or he's invisible.
This isn't good.
I want a do-over and
 choose not to have him
promoted...
cuz his time is worth more than money
to me.
I miss having a co-parent
on the front-lines.
His absence makes me cranky.
I'm lonely and cranky.
I need to get over myself and my selfishness.
He's working hard for us.
for us.
for us.
I'm spoiled though! He's always been home by dinner
and always home for the weekends.
And now, he's not and I am lost without him.
This stinks on ice.
*********************
So that's all I got.
Tomorrow's the Doctors' visit I've been
yammering about...
I've got a list of what ails me--no kidding,
and we'll see what comes of it.
If there's a magic pill that makes me
savvy, smart, alert and aware,
fashion-forward and a shrewd budgeter--
something like
a "Queen of Everything Pill"
I want it...and I want unlimited refills.

The One Where I Melt and Wish I Spit-Shined my Inner Beauty

So this blogging thing
started because my memory--
well, it stinks on ice.
As in--
I can't remember stuff
like
what I had for breakfast
by lunch time
or if I even ate breakfast at all.

I have to really try hard
to pull that little card
from my brain rolodex--
hmmmm
breakfast...
breakfast...
think about breakfast foods...
cereal?
toast?
eggs?
yogurt?
Did I eat any of that this morning?
Hmmm, nothing.
Next question:
Am I hungry?

Yeah, it's just so fun being
that forgetful.
I've had some tests run
because my mind's like a window--
so Open there's a breeze blowing thru!
I need to know if I washed my brains out
with the mountains of laundry
I've done over the years.
In fact,
I'm starting more tests next Monday.

Shoot! I'm rambling
-- stick to the point of this post!

Okay, so I started blogging for my kids.
Then for reasons I do not understand a bit,
people started following along!
Every day I am amazed that anyone shows up at all
on my lil Momza's House cyber-doorstep.
Perhaps, I reason, it's like rubber-necking
a garage sale--
just look over and see if there's anything you need--
but then you see it's been picked over by the early birds,
there's nothing but an old lamp, some books,
maybe a toaster out--

so you drive right by to the next garage sale.

Last Sunday at Church,
I was sitting in the foyer
on the sofa,
when a lovely young lady
with soft features,
strawberry-ish blonde hair
and maybe some angel-kisses
on her cheeks,

passed me by

glanced over at me

whereupon I smiled,
then she
stopped
with a curious look
and asked,
"Do you blog?"
I smiled and nodded.

"You're Momza.", she said.

I suddenly felt nekkid.
Exposed and uncomfortable.
Inside I was melted wax.

How much did she know
and
when did she know it?

She introduced herself--
another sister-blogger whose just moved here
from Utah.
I knew who she was
tho I didn't know her face.

We stood and chatted for a moment--
she introduced her sweetheart,
my yahoos came around
and I introduced them
plus the Ninja Baby.

And then she and her angel-kisses walked out the door.

I walked away thinking:
anything in my teeth?
how about my hair? is it all over and messy?
Was I what she expected?
Was my inner-beauty spit-shined that morning?
Oh how I wish I had spit-shined my inner beauty!


The yahoos teased me for the rest of the day...
"Oh Mom, you're so famous.
Can I have your autograph?"

To which,
I thunked them on the head.

So there's this Casual Bloggers Conference
coming up...
And I wanna meet so many women--
women I have come to know thru their bloggin' noggins
and yet,
I think I'd like to be invisible
or wear a doilee on my face like
Lady Gaga
so noone recognizes me
and my un-polished inner beauty.

Being Neutral

The past few days have felt much like
the season around me...
Colorado Winters
can feel a bit schizophrenic--
you can wake up to bright sunny blue skies
and by the days' end
have a snow-covered world--
or the very opposite
snow-colored skies
revealing a toss-your-coat-away
warm sunny day.
You just never know
what's on the horizon
so you have to be prepared
for anything.

It's just been a busy week.

We've had a visitor here since last weekend:
a former missionary who served here
and left the area last summer...
he went home in December
and has been here
"exploring options"
with Nana.

We loved him with his black nametag--
everyone in the whole area did--
he's just one of those personable persons--
like a kindness-magnet
that attracts so much good wherever he goes.
We enjoyed him so much,
that that friendship continued
after he went home.
Then he called one night,
and said,
"I know you have that rule,
but--"
he asked if he might pursue
the 19 year old crankmeister female in our house,
I had to think about it...
Our rule is this:

"If a young man comes 
thru the front door 
with a black
nametag,
he will not come back as a date."

We created that rule to protect
the missionaries
and our daughters.
It's important that as we serve with the
missionaries in our area,
that we help them stay focused on the work.


And that's how it's always been.
Until now.
(breathe...breathe...)
But, I have a confession to make--
I'm not surprised about this one.
Somewhere in the back of my mind,
I thought we'd see him again.

I have no clue how this is all gonna play out,
but I just had a feeling
we'd see him at our door again.

Maybe that was Heavenly Father's way
of preparing my mindset
so I wouldn't freak out.
I don't know.
Seems likely.

I figured his six day visit would pass quickly
and six days would be enough
to fan a fire
or blow out a flame.

He's going home today.
I'll keep you posted.
It's too early to tell.


As I observed this
"exploring options" thing--
between the two of them,
my effort has been that
of Switzerland
I am neutral.
I cannot lean one way
or another.
I do not weigh-in freely,
nor have I been invited by my Nana
to weigh-in.

I am Switzerland. 
They say it's gonna snow today.
I better grab my sunblock.
And maybe my gloves.
And sunglasses.

How Bad Do You Wanna Know?

The Yahoos and I went up to Denver today
to Cherry Creek Mall...
we'd never been there,
no not in the 13+ years we've lived in Colorado.
Never.

The only store I loved was
Anthropologie.
So. cute.

But that's not what I wanna share.

So we're sitting on a garden wall
waiting for some of our gang
to come out of Urban Outfitters
and some of our gang
to come back from the Loo--
when I look down the way a bit
to see a very very elderly man
slowly shuffling his way towards
our end of the Mall.

His steps are teeny tiny baby steps,
his arms are swinging in unison,
as tho he is using them to push him along.

I whisper to Daisie so she can notice him too.
She has been very much a 14-going-on-fifteen-year-old
lately...
you know what I'm talking about:
self-absorbed, curt, whiny, some moments I am
exasperated by her--
I wanted her to see something real--
someone whose struggles
were on the outside
easy to see
and perhaps sympathize.

She watched his motions
as his path crossed right in front of us,
her heart melted,
she said,
"I wonder if he needs help?"
I looked into her eyes
and said,
"How bad do you wanna know?"

She winced for a moment--
thought about it,
then stood up
and walked over to him--
immediately the rest of my yahoos' eyes
were fixed on their sister.
They hadn't heard our conversation
but they had certainly seen the man.
When Daisie got to him,
his eyes lit up
a broad smile surfaced on his lips
and I heard him say to her
request,
"God bless you.
God bless you.
God bless you."
-- in broken english.
And he put one of his arms on her shoulder,
looking deep into her eyes.
He shook his head no
and kept shuffling
until he was outta sight.

When she returned to me,
her eyes met mine
and we both teared-up.
I told her I was so proud of her
and hugged her guts!


She said it reminded her of some show she had seen
where an actor
pretended to need help
to see who would step up and offer it.

I told her it reminded me of the Savior
who said,
"Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto the least of these,
my brethren,
ye have done it unto me."

Dear Me, A Love Letter to Myself

Dear Me:
I haven't see your twenty year old Self
in twenty-eight years...
There's some things I'd like to tell you
if I could.

First,
You're not Fat.
I know you wrote in your journals every year
that you were seriously overweight.
You weren't.
You were too hard on yourself.
You were lovely.

Look at that soft tanned skin
and bright smile...
you were getting ready for your
Bridal Shower
that June day
in Houston.

You'll love being married.
You'll learn how to cook
more than spaghetti
and mac n cheese
eventually,
and the smoke alarm
will be the dinner bell for a few years
but that's okay.

You're going to have a huge family!
Bigger than you ever imagined!
And the first three children
are going to give you
many moments and hours and days
of joy and happiness...
and almost equally the same
amount of moments and hours and days
of self-doubt, frustration, and worry.
But, you're gonna be fine.
No permanent damage is done to any of them
by eating Mc Donald's Happy Meals 3 times a week.
They're fine, just fine.

The oldest
is going to teach you how
to get dressed in 20 minutes
with make-up.
He's also going to teach you
not to leave money sitting around--
watch out for that one morning
when he throws four twenty-dollar bills
off the balcony
thru the glass-sliding door.
Oh and don't even waste that hour
outside looking for it
on Shaw Butte Mountain
in Phoenix.
Somebody else surely thought
God had answered their prayers that day.

The second child,
your first daughter is going to teach you
that every child is different
and don't compare them.
She is also going to teach you
that each child needs to be respected
in their own right--
and she's going to show that to you when
she is 3 1/2 years old at Easter.
You're going to go all over north Phoenix
looking for the right easter dress for her--
and she is going to reject every single dress
you show her...
but when you stand back and let her choose
she will positively glow
in a little pastel floral dress
with a white lace collar
dropped waist
and pink ribbon.

The third child
is going to come along
before the first child
is two years old.
I know.
I know.
But this one is going to
teach you how to pray
morning
noon
and night.
His special needs
will bring you to the
arms of Heavenly Father.
You will learn to listen
with more than your ears.
He will change
your very core.
And that humility will
refine you in ways
nothing else can.

The first three,
prepare you for the ones
that follow.
And tho you may consider
taking up drinking,
you won't need to...

There are some things I wanna warn you about:

That perm you're thinking of getting:
don't do it--
you're going to look like a poodle (!)
and it's going to take a long time to grow out.

That Loving Care Medium Ash Brown hair-dye
for $2.79
is going to turn your hair
Elvis Presley blue-black
and still cost you ninety dollars
to fix.
Don't do that either.

Michael Jackson is going to be a superstar--
and that
Thriller album you just bought
is going to be a history maker,
so save it.

Donny Osmond is not gone forever--
he's going to be a game show host.
I know.  But he ages well.
And his marriage lasts,
so
you were right to give up on him.

That Classic 1972 Malibu
that you love so much--
even with the broken a/c
is going to be traded in for a
gross Ford Country Squire station wagon.
In Missouri.
That's right,
you're not staying in Houston, little girl--
you're going to move around
ALOT...
but the good news is that you're going to get
to live where you've wanted to live
since you were seventeen:
Colorado Springs.
It's just gonna take some time
to get there.
In the meantime,
you'll leave Houston
for Independence, Missouri
then onto Phoenix
and South Carolina
back to Phoenix
and THEN back to Colorado.
That's only gonna take 16 years,
and a divorce.
And that's gonna hurt,
but you're gonna heal just fine
and the world will feel right again,
I promise.


Oh!-- and when you watch
"Phil Donahue" one morning in 1982,
he's gonna be talking about
a new invention
"The Personal Computer"--
don't balk at it,
go out and buy as many stocks as you can
in a tiny little company called
Apple.

Tole painting will go the way of the dinosaur--
so all those white ducks with country blue dots
that you're about to learn how to paint--
yeah, enjoy it thru the 80's and then toss 'em out.
Or just learn how to use a personal computer.

Neon socks, peasant tops, bell bottoms,
leg warmers, and jogging suits all make a huge
comeback in 2008--but don't save yours
because you're gonna have a big bahooey by then
after seven,
yes,
Seven
yahoos.


There's alot more,
but let's leave some surprises
along the way.

I just want you to know
that you're going to be okay.
Many wonderful blessings will come to you--
your life will be exciting and joyful.
Don't sweat the small stuff.
You eventually figure things out
and it's all gonna be okay.

Smile at yourself more
when you look in the mirror.
You are beautiful.

What Can Five Dollars Buy?

“If you as parents cut corners, your children will too. If you lie, they will too. If you spend all your money on yourselves and tithe no portion of it for charities, colleges, churches, synagogues, and civic causes, your children won't either. And if parents snicker at racial and gender jokes, another generation will pass on the poison adults still have not had the courage to snuff out.”-Marian.W. Edelman

 

That quote is on the wall at the YMCA.  

I love that quote.

The only lines I remember are the first two...if I cut corners, my children will too.  If I lie, they will too.

 

This morning as I was dropping my youngest yahoo

off to school early for choir practice,

she opened the car door

and discovered a five dollar bill 

on the snowy ground

right at the drop-off.

There were no other kids around.

She held it up 

for me to see 

and asked, 

"What do I do with it?"

 

I looked at it

then at her,

and said,

"Take it to the Office. 

They'll know what to do."

 

She smiled the smile

that all good-deed-doers smile

and hurried up the steps to her school.

 

As I drove away

I had that good feeling too.

She looked to me 

for the right answer

confidant that I would

guide her in that moment--

to do the right thing.

"Choose the Right"

CTR

we have choices everyday

to shine and polish our selves from the inside-out.

And it's a strictly do-it-yourself project.

 

Afterschool

the Caboose bounced in the house,

yammering about Valentine's Day

and her school day--

then she produced a small manila envelope

with her name written in "office-lady-cursive".

 

She had stopped by the office

on her way to the bus

and asked if anyone had claimed it--

noone had,

so the office lady gave it to her

and what really forced a smile

from my babies' lips

was that she said,

"Thank you for being honest."

 

Five dollars can't buy that.

“The best thing to give to your enemy is forgiveness; to an opponent, tolerance; to a friend, your heart; to your child, a good example; to a father, deference; to your mother, conduct that will make her proud of you; to yourself, respect; to all men, charity.” -Benjamin Franklin

~~Hey Ma! I'm Going to the Grammy's!!~~

Imagine this:
You've been invited to
The Grammys--
YES, THE Grammys...
by some wild stroke of luck
in the world of WHO'S WHO
the stars align
and YOU get a
golden ticket to an evening
of star-studded brilliance!

Everyone's going to be there--
legends sitting next to legends,
newbies,
up-and-comers,
all in the same room!
This is the place to
See and Be Seen!

You break open the piggy bank
for the new duds!
A Limo is reserved
for a bazillion bucks an hour!
You call all your friends--
and your Mom--
"Hey! I'm going to the Grammy's!
And I'm sitting upfront! NO kidding!
I'll have a great seat where
I can oogle all of the famous entertainers
in the world!"


You arrive early--
hey, this is not Church!
You're excited to go!

You walk in,
feeling the rush of adrenalin
that can only be described as
pure euphoria--
you're caught up in the
magic of the moment.

You're not in Kansas anymore.

And then,
the Kodak Theater Usher
walks you down to your seat--
and you're sitting right behind
one of today's TOP TOP TOP
entertainers...
there's just one little bitty
teeny weeny
uh thing...

The show is gonna look alot different to you than the rest of the audience.

"uhhh, nice hat, Lady Gaga.  What'd ya do--lose a bet?"

A FULL ON MIRACLE!!!

true miracle!

THIS IS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD POST TODAY!

Go. Read.  Take a tissue! Take a Box!
LINK LINK LINK!!!

So Long Sucka!

We had to bid adieu to an old compadre
around our home...
he served us well
in his dapper burgundy-colored way.

He sucked and sucked
'til he couldn't suck no mo'.
Joining our family in 2006,
we picked him up during our
two year stint in Idaho.

At first,
he sucked at everything...
and it was good.
He sucked up
like none other.

But, as happens with things of his kind
his sucking-power was on the decline in
recent months--
his suckage wasn't sucking enough
and that, well, sucked.

I didn't plan on replacing him so soon--
but then I went to Target
and I saw
HER...
I couldn't take my eyes off her.
New
shiny
12Amps of sucktastic power...
I circled her for a moment
wondering
wondering
could she really do the job?

The real deal maker was the SALE sign
on her...
so I put her in the cart and walked around--
sometimes I do that--
I'll just push the chosen object d' jour
around for a bit
and if I can't think of a reason
to leave it behind
I bring it home.

When I arrived home,
the 14 yo greeted me
with widened eyes--
"Oh wow! A new one!
We soooo needed a new one!"
She helped me assemble the new
yellow-dressed beauty--
and then said something I bet has never been
uttered before:
"Let's name her!"
Hmm I thought,
"why not? Any suggestions?"
"Cinderella!"
"Oh that's just perfect.  She's even dressed in 'yella' ".

So without further adieu,
Meet Cinderella.
She really sucks.

Weekend ReCap: A Dreamy Vacation

I had a fabulous weekend!
Fabulous!
Mr. Wonderful came home from work EARLY
with a Surprise!
All I had to do was get my short sleeved shirt on and capris--
forget that it was 25 degrees here in the Rockies--
we were gonna be WARM!
He arranged eveything!
I just had to grab my purse,
my sandals
sunglasses
and get in the car!

I was getting so excited! I'd never been to Hawaii before and that is my dream destination!

This was our hotel--right on the ocean! Our room was the Penthouse! How cool was that?  I got to sleep in a bed I didn't have to make! YES!!!

That is what I did all weekend long...soaking up the sunshine and eatin' bonbons!  And when I wasn't on the beach--we went shopping too! I loved it. Every stinkin' minute! 

What a great guy I have! 

I was buying more shoes than Imelda Marcos!  I just kept thinking:

"Self, this is too good to be true!"

And then,

I woke up to the painful truth that was weekend looked more like this:

Yeah. 

********

On the plus side,

the Golden Child used his Ninja Baby skills on his Mommy

so Mr W and I could see his sweet baby cheeks.

He has some serious ninja skills...he looks just like a baby. What a hairy faker!Papa is in a trance...this Ninja is good!

Deja vu

Lately, I've been questioning my
parental-skills with teen #4....
it's been a rough couple of weeks.

Then, outta the blue #1 calls
and calms my worried heart.


Number One refined me,
taught me,
wised me up
years ago.

His perspective means alot to me.
I can ask,
"what am I doing wrong?"
and not fear his answer.
"Nothing Mom. It's just teenager stuff.
She's being a doofus." (dontcha love his brotherly description?)

Whew! Okay.
I did something right.


Number Two comes down
with the Ninja Baby--
and without talking to #1,
basically says the same thing.

Talk about tender mercies.
I needed those pats on the back.
Made me grateful I didn't sell them to the
circus when they were 16.


The good news is:
We're all gonna survive.
This too shall pass.
I am not Satan in fleece pajamas!

Community TV

Okay. So that new show "Community"
has an actress that
everytime I see her,

I think of think of this

 

Aughra, from The Dark Crystal.

I think it's the eyes.

p.s. The Caboose says, "You need to write 'no offense' cuz that's just plain awful. No way to win friends. So embarassing."

February in Colorado Springs and Gucks

Ducks.
or "Gucks" as their known in our house
thanks to the Boofus when he was a "yiddle guy".

We got some snow this morning
and after I did some volunteering at the kids' school
this morning
I sloshed down to the yiddle pond
to get a closer look.

Most of the pond is frozen over
'cept for this yiddle spot...
I wonder what happened to this flock (gaggle?)
that they are still here in the Rocky Mountains
in February freezing temps and snowy ponds?

I'm guessing these are not Adult Gucks,
but rather
Teenager Gucks.
They missed their scheduled flight
to Miami
or Phoenix.

The alarm didn't go off.
They missed their ride.
They couldn't find their ipods.
Got sucked into facebook.
                Or
They went to Miami last year
and it was so boring!
None of their friends were going.
They had nothing to wear.

Maybe they're still here
to prove a point to their
stuffy, overbearing parents--
who are absolutely clueless
about how hard it is to be a
Teenager Guck
in these latter days!

So they're freezing their feathered-bahooeys off
so Mom and Dad will
come to their senses
and realize that Teens need their Freedom.
Yeah, that's it.
"Heck No! We won't Go!"

Write it down yiddle gucks,
write it down
and save it for Spring
when the ol fogies come back
from Cabo with a tan
and find you
tummy up
in a snowdrift.

That'll teach them.

Dear Teenagers in my House:

Life is a Research Paper...

Pick the Topic.

Find the Key Elements.

Gather some Facts.

Test the Theories.

Publish the Results.

Live with the Consequences.