To Start this week off right, I am WAY excited to host a Give-Oh-Giveawayyyy....
~Dawn's Early Light~
Nathan Sharp is a man with an obvious talent. He's also a father of six yahoos. And he is just starting out with marketing his obvious talent. So to kick off his wildly successful future career, get his yahoos off to college and take his hard-working wife to Hawaii someday (I made that part up; I have no idea if she wants to go to Hawaii, but being a Momza to 7 yahoos myself, I think she probably deserves a vacation!)--
ANYWHO--Nathan is inviting my Follow Follow Me readers to enter his giveaway.
4. Leave your CHOICE of an 8x10 in my COMMENTS section.*
5. Tell your Readers about the Giveaway too, if you want to share something awesome with them!
6. Giveaway Deadline Entry is Friday, June 11th, 2010 9pm SHARP
7. Winner will be chosen randomly.
Easy Peasy Lemon Squeasy, RIGHT?
Thanks to Eric and Sarah for introducing me to their hard-working, obviously talented brother, Nathan!
*Make sure your choice is available in the 8x10 size. Some are not.
*p.s. Nathan received special permission from President Monson to distribute his likeness--President Monson requested ten copies for his personal use. So how stinkin' cool is that? Way!
I'm back.
My bum hurts
from sitting on it
for exactly 5 days straight
which equals
24 X 5
(hold on while I get out the calculator)
One hundred and twenty hours.
120 hours!
No wonder.
I have so much-ch-ch-ch
to share,
I'm not sure where to start,
but here's the line-up for the coming days' commentaries--
*The 8 hour drive from Colorado to Utah
with Nan.
Who sings country songs at the top of her lungs
even when she's sleeping.
*Getting a professional make-over by the gal who does Stephanie Meyers' face & hair, and a bunch of others whose names I may be name-dropping, and introduce this awesome stylist to you all!
* Pedicure with Nan.
* The Girls' Night Out Party at the Hilton!
*Meeting Denae, Kazzy, Alexis, Crash, MomBabe, InkMom and her sidekick sis, MommyJ, Tauna and a host of others.
*Cafe Rio
*IKEA!!
* Getting a Body Bug
*Buying Food Storage
*A bunch of product reviews from the SWAG I rec'd at CBC
*A fantastic Giveaway by a breath-taking artist!!
Oh yeah, I have so much to share
tons of pics to show
and it's all coming up...
right after I get some sleep.
In my own bed.
At least eight hours' worth.
Which I haven't had since last Tuesday night.
But my mom would not let me have the "grown up" Barbie,
Instead, I played with "Skipper"--
When I was in 2nd grade, my father actually sold for Mattel Toys (then Kennar),
so of course, my brothers and I had more toys than is legal in some countries--
including the grown up Barbies...
How about Casey?-- she was my favorite, because I had short hair too. My mom thought she could cut hair, and mine frequently looked like she cut it with a weed-whacker. I thought Casey could really pull off a short cut. I even parted mine on the side and tried to smoothe my naturally curly hair down to mock hers.
Okay, so I grew up with an abundance of Barbies. They were my most favorite dolls.
I did not have a Dream House--I think my father must've changed jobs by the time they came out, because I am certain I would've had one if he'd still been with the company that sold 'em.
So I created my own dreamhouse...using textbooks covered in slips for beds,and rolled-up Sunday socks for pillows, my mother's high-heels for sleek sporty cars, and my brother's GI Joe's for dates.
Barbie's look reflected whatever was going on at the time in the world...peasant skirts, bellbottoms, boots, jumpers, maxi-midi-min-dresses. So fun.
As I had my own daughters, Barbies got a welcomed invitation back into my home.
The Barbie aisle was always visited when we went shopping--
back in 1987, I think, is when my oldest finally started noticing the beautiful dolls
in their fancy garb. We shared our addiction together and all of my girls began collecting
dolls. As I've shared in a past post, many had been kept in their boxes until a new little friend came over
I'm packing today to leave
for the Casual Bloggers Conference
that's happening this weekend.
My BFF4VR, Nan is coming with me
so I don't change my mind once I get to
Grand Junction
and turn tail n' run back home.
Plus, she wants a little va-cay from her
familia,
and a trip to IKEA
and ALSO to go to some place that
sells food storage stuff that is supposed to be
A W E S O M E.
I fully support her in this
because I have about thirty minutes of food storage
and she only lives a mile from me,
so I know where I'll be headed
should the world come to an end
and I'm hungry.
And IKEA??
That's a no-brainer, right?
I've only been to the IKEA in Houston,
where I drooled up and down aisles
the length of NFL playing fields.
I'd go to Utah for IKEA alone.
No kidding.
But the real reason we're heading to the
West side of the Rockies
is for the CBC.
I want it known that I have absolutely
NO Expectations.
Really.
It'll be fun to meet the women on the other side
of their blogs, right?
That and the fact that I won't have to
make dinner
do laundry
or run errands
for 5 days
makes me so happy I could weep tears of joy!
Being the kind-hearted nurturer that I am,
I just want to give some prompts for those
who're wondering what they might say to me
upon meeting my Momza-self--
so here goes: What To Say to Momza: 1- Do you know where your cellphone is? ( i'm always leaving it somewhere) 2-Is it turned on?(It's never ON) 3- Check your messages while I stand here.(My familia will thank you) 4- Did you take your meds today?(I need to be reminded. daily.) 5- Are you sure?(Nope. thanks!)
Things To Know:
I'm an Open Book.
You can ask me anything about anyone.
If I remember it, I'll share.
I love Hot Tamales, MilkDuds, Italian sodas, & ferrero roche chocolates.
I am not tech-savvy.
I'm a Granma.
I love a good conversation.
I'm not from Utah.
I'm a convert.
I started blogging to keep in touch with friends and family.
I am always amazed that anyone reads a word I say.
We had our first warm weekend and after a long and wild winter,
we were ready to GO!
Since David Scott is here, we went to HIS favorite place
over in Buena Vista, Colorado
to do some fishing on the Arkansas River.
The Idaho family came down from Golden, Friday night
so we could get a headstart first thing
Saturday morning.
Mr. W was right though,
we didn't get outta the house until 9:57AM.
He only gloated a little.
When we got less than five miles outta Buena Vista,
we had a kink in our day--
Dani's car died.
Her fuel pump. Did you know that if your fuel pump dies, your will lose power to your car?
As in, no power steering or power brakes?
Gratefully, Mr. Idaho was driving and was able to pull the car over safely.
They had the car towed into town--
dropping me and the yahoos off a park in town,
so Mr W and Mr Idaho could run to another town, Salida,
to pick up a fuel pump and bring it back to the car repair shop in BV.
This is at the Park in Buena Vista.
Bruce Lee, no kiddin'!
Nana let baby G lick her apple...so funny. This little guy thinks he is ready for solids, but nope--he's got a while before that. The weather there was great but super windy.
David Scott kickin' it.
The silly Golden Child
Two yahoos being very patient.
Three hours later and several hundreds of dollars, we were back in the car, with a time-adjustment needed, we changed our plans and went to Cottonwood Lake, only 6 miles outta town to do our fishing. So Daisie learned to hook her own worm....there was much "ewwwww!-ing and Grosssss-ing" but she did it! If you're wondering if your ready to teach your child to fish, check THIS OUT.
She did it!
The Caboose is ready to wet a line too!
Wherever David Scott was, the Boofus followed...
because it was so windy, we had to keep the Golden child in the car..which Nana didn't mind because her enthusiasm for the trip dropped sometime during the 3 hour wait and she was car sick.
T
The Aspens are just barely waking up from winter.
See that path on the left?
If you follow that path and keep walking forever,
you'll get to the spot where everyone else jumped outta the car
and ran to go fish!
Mr Idaho said it was just what he needed after the car experience.
Four casts brought up 3 fish!
His life got exponentially better and as he said,
"The sun came out and I was a better man!"
At the end of the day, we went a small place for dinner called, Pizza Works. Baby G was all over the table, ready for his own slice of pizza.
If you ever go to Buena Vista for anything, or even if you're just driving thru--pull over and go eat there!
DELICIOUS!! It was more than enough pizza ( we ordered 3- 20 inch-ers--yikes!) and it was awesome!
We filled our tummies and headed back home to the Springs...
plum.wore.out. and then some.
****
Then, because we're no quitters,
we got up yesterday morning,
and headed up to
Deckers, Colorado.
We've been coming to this exact camping spot since 1998...it's definitely a favorite!
Daisie borrowed Dad's waders...and no more worms on this part of the South Platte River...strictly flies and lures.
And that's where she stayed the entire afternoon!
Dani wet a line too. All of us did.
Fishing is so relaxing, ya know?
Mr. Idaho and David Scott and the Boofus went
on a "death march"(according to DS and J) of a hike to another fishin' hole where
Mr. Idaho caught a nice brown trout and thought it was a successful trip.
The Caboose tired of fishing,
so spent some time scrambling around on rocks
and peeking thru binoculars hoping to see more wildlife.
And that's the first of many day trips we'll take this summer.
It's been a crazy few days.
My winter muscles are cranky as they wake up
and push out of hibernation
just like the bears who've been lumbering into town
to enjoy the warmth of a late Spring.
We've been super busy with David Scott home--
as is the case when family comes to visit,
right?
Tomorrow the familia is heading West
to the Collegiate Mountain Range
to do some fishing and hiking.
The boys are psyched for fishing
while the girls are like me,
just wanna get out and get some SUN
on our pasty white bodies.
I have a small confession to make--
while Mr W and I were shopping tonight
for our picnicking supplies
at the only Walmart I enjoy shopping at
on the planet--
I told him he could get whatever kind
of apples he wanted
because if I had my druthers,
I'd let him take the whole HeeHaw Gang
and leave me home
in silence.
Mr W quickly informed me that
he was sure he'd get a call to go into
work
if I were unable to join them on this
excursion.
So, as we're talking about what time
we wanna get up in the morning,
I suggest 6am
that was met with much MUCH
growling
weeping
wailing
and gnashing of teeth.
So I turned to Mr W and said
"What time do we want to leave?"
Stone-faced he shrugged,
"I don't care."
"What do you mean you don't care? Don't we wanna have enough time
to get ready and leave by 8?" I ask "That's two hours."
He answered without even a smile,
"We can't tie our shoes in two hours." Touche, Mr W, touche.
So come tomorrow night,
after a day of frolicking in the mountains,
we will come home with yahoos
too tired to
weep
or
wail
or gnash their teeth...
and that's worth the trip to me.
As long as we don't come across
any bears
I'll be fine, just fine.
Last night was great fun with all of the yahoos kickin’ around the house.
Joseph adores his big brother David Scott; the two of them were huddled at the dinner table
looking at some new computer games on a laptop. David was 17 years old when Joseph was born—that’s right—a rotten teenager! As soon as he’d walk in from school though, I’d hand his grumbly self the baby and he’d go downstairs to his room and play his acoustic guitar while the baby lay on his bed. It was the start of a wonderful brotherly relationship.
We also oohed and ahhed over the Golden Child—who affects us like laughing gas—we have no control or semblance of maturity when it comes to this baby! Funny faces, exotic sounds, more energy was never put into a rocketship as that which we pull out for the sake of a toothless smile and a chubby giggle! As Nana says, “He is heaven.”
The conversation got around to Miss Tardypants…the older yahoos gave her a really hard time for not getting up on time for seminary and school—as David Scott said, “Was that even an option?” Oh yeah, I told them that they could give her as much grief about this as they wanted—
And boy, did they! They razzed her endlessly; gave me many ideas how to “cure” her tardiness—some involving paintballs & raw eggs, while the general consensus was to pour a large pitcher of ice cold water over her head. She tried protesting all of their ideas—even looked to me for pity—mwahaha—but I was bone-dry-empty of compassion. Imagine that!
We had a family devotional—during which Joseph f*rted and nearly cleared the room---noone wanted to kneel next to him during family prayer, which he thought was hilarious! Boys.
Then we packed up the Golden family, said our ‘good-byes-cya-laters’ and they left. Then everyone else peeled off and went to bed, except for David Scott and me cause we had some catching up to do.
I wondered what, if any effect, the razzing from her siblings would have on Daisie aka Miss Tardypants--
Guess what, chicken-butt? She got up this morning and was out the door ON TIME.
So I was minding my own business,
doin' my mom-thang today--
ya know,
the usual--
cleanin'
runnin' errands like taking Oprah to the Vet,
thinkin' about what's-fer-dinner,
yada yada yada...
The yahoos came home from school
and they're playing with friends
when all of a sudden
the Boofus runs in and yells,
"Mom! Mom! Dani just drove by the house!"
"Whaaa? No way." I say.
"Yes, she did, but she didn't stop, she just drove right by the house!"
I'm thinking that he's mistaken
because Dani has a red two-door Blazer---
there's alot of those around, ya know?
The Boofus insists it was her.
So then I think,
maybe she's just coming to hang out with Nana
tonight,
maybe they have something going on
that I don't know about??
Whatever. If it was her, she'll be back in a minute.
Just about that time,
the doorbell rings.
I walk downstairs to answer it,
and there in front of me is
David Scott!!
From Boise!
All the way here
to surprise me!!
Oh yeah,
I screamed
n' bawled like a baby!
I was so surprised!!
He finished his semester in school
last week,
while his wife still has a week or two left of school
(She's a teacher)
so he just decided to hop a plane
and come home for a week!!
He'd planned it two weeks ago,
and only told Dani & Brad--
who have kept it a total secret from me!!!!!
They picked him up at the Denver airport
and drove him down here--
she said she drove past the house
when she saw all the kids
outside,
because they wanted to surprise the kids too.
Anyway...
it was the BEST!!!
You know,
someone once complimented me
on my children--
and I said to them,
"I know I'll be a successful Mother,
when my kids choose to come home and
visit me,
when they don't have to."
Seriously--
this just means so much to me.
I love my yahoos!
I'm frustrated with the fifteen year old.
She's the fifth,
fifteen-year-old
I've raised so far.
You'd think, by now,
I'd have this mothering gig pretty much figured out.
Not much catches me by surprise--
but this one
THIS ONE---
has called my bluff...
I don't have a trick up my sleeve for
THIS ONE.
Our house mantra is DO YOUR PART--
sometimes,
it's just hey, gotta do your part...all calm and nurturing
but this morning,
as I was driving the 15 yr old to school
AGAIN
for the 2nd time this week--
and yes, it is just TUESDAY--
it was more like, Do Your FREAKIN' Part!!!!
She oversleeps nearly everyday.
We turn the house "OFF" by 9pm--
that means
no phone calls,
no TV,
no computer--
nothing after 9pm on school nights.
We've done this routine forever.
Because I know how much kids need their sleep!
But this 15 yo doesn't go to her room and sleep,
she goes down to her room and reads...
and reads
and reads--
then she can't get up in the morning.
Not even on Sundays--
I went in her room this past Sunday morning,
I opened her blinds,
turned on her cd player,
rubbed her shoulders and said,
"It's just a little after 7, ya need to get going, so we can leave by 8:30,k?"
She opened her eyes,
acknowledged me,
mumbled something like, "Okay."
And I left the room.
As we're ready to walk out the door
at 8:20
I send a runner downstairs with the lead-time--
"we're leaving in ten minutes!"
the runner returns with the report that
the 15 yo is IN the shower.
I go downstairs,
yell into the bathroom door
that I am NOT waiting,
we are leaving in 9 minutes!
Nine minutes come and go,
my patience is fueled by my frustration,
so I point the yahoos to the car,
fully intending to leave Miss Tardypants at home--
we're all in the car,
ready to pull out,
when I hear the front door slam
and there she is--
dressed and ready to go.
In nine minutes.
Nine.
That was Sunday.
Two days ago.
Three mornings that Miss Tardypants has dragged her feet!!!
This morning,
I woke up and went to her room
to find her digging thru her mountain pile of clean laundry
looks for socks--
"Do you know it's 6:48?, I ask.
doesn't your bus come at 6:48?"
"6:51." she answers.
I turn and walk back upstairs.
Within a few seconds I hear running on the stairs,
the front door slam,
and the bus zip past our house,
the front door opens
then closes quietly.
"Miss the bus again?" I growl.
"Yeah."
"Well, you either start walking or get Diana to take you."
She retreats downstairs and I hear nothing.
Nothing.
For a long time.
I get the other two yahoos up and dressed for school--
today is dress rehearsal for the Caboose's choir program,
so I have to help her find something in her closet
that echoes the 70's--bell bottoms, tie-dye shirt, bandana, beads--
I send a runner down to find out when the 15 yo is leaving for school.
"As soon as Nana gets up and takes her."
Hmmmm.
Well since Nana was out until 12:33 AM with friends,
and doesn't work until 9,
I think it's safe to say,
she's not in a hurry to get up.
Ugh.
"Tell Dara to come up, I'll drop her off when I take Ari to choir practice."
So that's what happened.
And I am fit to be tied
about this mess.
I have never had a kid who didn't get their bahooey to class on time!
I've gotten up early to make breakfast for her--
only to discover that she went back to bed
or didn't get up at all!
I've taken away privileges--
the pc, phone, friends, weekends
None of it is making a dent.
So I went online looking for answers--
haven't read anything I didn't know--
teens need alot of sleep--check
teens need encouragement--check
teens need natural consequences--check
some parents use the morning water pitcher/water sprayer
to wake up their oversleepers--
some use bullhorns,
loud obnoxious alarm clocks that wake the whole house up,
some use money to bribe,
or other goods for leverage.
I'm not into bribing my yahoos to do what they should be doing anyway.
I have a friend who used to pay her kids to go to seminary--5 bucks a day
but guess what?
they still didn't go.
So I don't do that.
Still, she is missing seminary.
But, my goodness!
What am I missing here?
The next 8 mornings are staring me in the face
and I am dreading them!
Any suggestions??
FYI, the reason I chose Key Lime??
I like key lime pie--
had some on Mother's Day
and loved it--
and I was hatched in Miami, Florida--
and when you're hatched in Miami, Florida
well,
it's a law there
you have to love key lime pie
pretty sure.
1. Teach Bicycle Safety--defensive driving style. Assume cars are NOT looking out for kids.
2. Watch your kids walk to their friends' house down the street until they are safely there.
3. Buddy System again, really works.
4. Before a child plays on your trampoline, make sure to get a SIGNED permission slip from theie parents that releases you from liability in the case of an accident. Make certain your kids & their friends follow basic trampoline rules.
I'm writing this from the other side of the veil.
I think.
Because I'm pretty sure I died last night
after my body realized
what the heck I did to it
in the Zumba! class.
I showed up early,
met the teacher
and confessed that I have
two left feet...
"No problem!, she smiled,
just keep moving even when you don't know the steps."
I tried to act like I "belonged" in that class--
that I'm not pushing 49 years old
and that
I know how to
rumba
marengue
cha-cha
and
belly dance like the rest of 'em.
"Ahh, just like aerobics class I went to in
1991...
I can do this."
I lied to myself.
The class had maybe 25 gals in it--
I wasn't the oldest--
Whew!
I happened to be right behind
a cute little thang
who knew every move
every step
every turn
every arm movement
so I followed her
as best as I could...
for the first 20 minutes---
I was
Zumba-ing!
About that time,
my ears sent a message to my brain
that I could hear my heartbeat in it...
and all that time I thought it was just
the bass in the latin beat ringing in my ears. Okay, Okay
I told my brain, I'll go get some water.
Fifteen minutes later,
I am a shell of my former
Zumba-self--
my feet are moving
tho my arms are limp noodles
and oh-my-Aunt-Nancy!
I'm sweating
not "misting"
but full-on -WWF-style
sweating!
This was great news to my brain
right?
Cause it meant I was
actually burning the blubber off my
big bahooey!
Only one prob with that realization--
grey sweats...
I wore grey sweats.
Not black,
like every other
Zumba-er in the room.
Don't wear grey sweats when you're
forty-nine years old
and
sweating like a WWF wrestler.
It's not attractive.
IN fact,
don't wear grey sweats--
I looked like a dancing elephant
doing the cha-cha.
My fatigue drove me to do
something I told myself
I wouldn't do--
look at the clock.
To my utter amazement and glorious delight
there was only 20 minutes left!
Twenty minutes!
I could salsa for twenty more minutes--
even though it looked like I was barely moving,
in my mind
I was shakin' what my Momma gave me
all over the place!
I stopped trying to memorize the steps
and just moved with the music,
and I started looking around the room
at the other women--
some were at the same place I was --
I smiled at the old hens like me
and they gave that knowing smile back to me--
the one that says, I know you. You're Me. We're doin' good just to be here! We used to come to Aerobics when our kids were small and could be bribed with chicken nuggets and fruit snacks-- and we havent' dragged our bahooey's to the gym since the oldest started high school but it's our turn now!
Yes, that's exactly our thoughts.
And we laughed--
at ourselves for our Selves!
Good on us!
As the music slowed
and we did our last cool down moves,
my brain whispered
"Thank you."
Then my heart chimed in,
"Thank you."
Ahhh, I needed this...
However,
My first sign that I was dying
showed up
about 5 minutes later
when I was walking with Mr W
and the yahoos to the car...
it started off like the sound of a
"Who", as in "Horton Hears a Who"--
I wasn't sure where the noise was coming from
but it was getting louder.
By the time we got home,
and it was time to ya know, get out of the car,
the noise was getting louder...
something about
"pain" --
though I couldn't be 100% certain.
I lay down in bed
plum.wore.out.--
ready for the healing that sleep brings
and that must've been when it happened...
my body overpowered my brain
in a massive-revolutionary-style protest
and
every muscles, tendon,
and hair follicle
collapsed into a heap of pain--
and that's when I crossed over to the other side.
My hope for a resurrected body couldn't be more
important to me than it is right now--
because there's another class on
Saturday.
