An Alaskan Homecoming

My fearless Alaskan Explorer
has packed up her bounty
and is en route home tonight.

Calling from the Juneau Airport this morning,
her voice was giddy and warm:
"I'm so happy that I'm comin' home, Mama."

Words, I think she is surprised are coming out of her mouth.
These are not the words she had been saying
over and over and over
just a few months ago
when she was a high school Senior.
Nope.
The words she most commonly used in my direction
sounded alot more like,
"I can't wait to get out of here."

Sometimes, adding a [bite] on the end
to emphasize just how much she meant them.

I tried to smile through those bites,
and return the same with my own two cents:
"Me too.", I'd say.

Good times.

Of course, it wasn't that I wanted my daughter to leave my life,
I just wanted her to use up her knowledge
that had been accumulating all eighteen years of her life, dontcha know.
She was a virtual plethora of knowledge!
Everything I said to her was responded to with,
"I know, {eyeroll} Mom. I know."

That's when I knew it was time to give her the boot
from the nest, as they say
and let the little chica test her wings.

It was a clean month before she ever even called home
after she left.
I'd get a text now and then,
but it was a clean break--
there was no fretting, no fussing, no mention of "home fires burning"
on either end.

I blessed her Grand Adventure with a hug and a kiss
with hopes that this would be the beginning of an exciting life
for my fifth child
who has been a happy Wonderer since she learned to walk.
The plan was that she would work and pay her own way--
her room and board,
her entertainment and other needs
(except for medical--she's still on our insurance)
and just see up close and personal
what this Life has to offer in a small Alaskan town.

The friend we knew in Alaska provided a landing place,
but not long after arriving,
they decided it wasn't a good fit
so Dara moved in with a family from church
that understood what it means to have a teenager
in the house--
their home had some already!
Dara fit right in and continued her journey
without skipping a beat!
My child who hates getting up in the morning,
GOT UP in the morning to catch a bus for work.
This child o'mine who used to thumb her nose up at dinner time,
made a confession during her first phone call home:
Momza: "SO, what are you learning in Alaska, Day?"
Dara: "I miss someone cooking dinner every night, Mama."

yeah.

There it was.
That was worth the distance itself.
 Kids take for granted the everyday things Moms do,
until they're out on their own and nobody cares of they are eating
healthy three squares a day every day.
She said she missed having someone to nag her into doing the things she should be doing--
noone cared if she was late to work,
had clean clothes to wear,
stayed up all night on Pinterest,
she learned what we all learn
the first time we leave home.

We learn that home is where the heart is...
there are little comforts there that are not found elsewhere.
That's what makes it HOME.

But the most important lessons are those she has learned about herself.
She's about to go off to college in January--
live in a social situation filled with ridiculous young adults
who don't understand much of anything,
immature, self-centered, insecure boobs--
who are anxious to put value-judgements onto their peers
without having a clue about themselves!
I want my daughter to know her Self--
her strengths especially,
so that when those knotheads try to pigeon-hole her into something she is not,
she doesn't believe them.

I hope she goes to college with a stronger identity now
than she would have,
had she stayed home since graduating high school,
being spoon-fed her daily life,
one bite at a time by us parents.

So that's what I hope this adventure has given her.
Confidence.

You can't give someone confidence.
Encouragement, yes.
But confidence? --no, that has to come from inside.
And once you have that awesome thing,
it's yours.

Day is spending the weekend in Seattle
with some kids from her stake in Juneau as they attend the temple there,
and do some siteseeing,
then she's heading down to Boise to spend a few days with David Scott and Tisha--
we'll see her happy shiny face on Friday night!

Getting my arms around my Explorer will feel so good--
there's nothing like a Homecoming.

Feather Boa and Tiara: She's workin' it!

Tiara: $9.95

Mulit-colored necklace: $2.99

Dangly Earrings: $2.95

Blingy Bracelets: $5.99

High Heels: $6.95

Feathered Boa: $10.99

White fur-lined purse: $7.95

Gold purse: $5.95

Lookin' like a Princess (after a nap): 

Priceless

~~

Possible Captions:

"What Happens in Vegas..."

"I'll have a root beer on the rocks."

"That was one wild princess party!"

What would you caption this one as?

*The story behind this pic:  This was taken the day after Dara's 4th birthday. All she wanted was princess dress-up stuff--we did, in fact, buy her a Snow White dress from the Disney store to go with this outfit, and she wore it the day before to her party. But on this morning, she came downstairs for breakfast, barely awake, so excited to put on her princess garb, she totally forgot the dress.  And the look on her face is priceless to us! 

~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. Winner of the "POPCORN BOPPIN'" Cd is Moody who said,

"There's so many songs I love and so many that make me tear up when sung by those little voices! One of my faves is Book of Mormon Stories."

Moody will you email me with your address so Deseret Book can get that cd out to you? Thanks so much!

She has a Wii Face

I'm in the middle of moving...
today should be the last big push to get our
belongings from one house to the next.

I hate moving.
I'd rather have a root canal than move crap.

And you know this if you're in a big family,
with grown children--
we still have their stuff to move too!
Not even kidding.
The stuff that they can't take with them while they're in school,
living in tiny apartments, etc.
Yeah, it's all still in my basement.
And where are they during this move?

Well they ain't here, that's for sure.
Ugh.

We have filled up the Suburban to the roof
and taken excess to Good will.
There will be another trip there today.

Yes, I have taken pictures of the mess--
(thanks to Tauna for encouraging me to keep it real),
but I think the camera got packed.

I have also had to work during this process.
When I left a few days ago,
I had specific tasks for the yahoos to do while I was gone--
go thru the toys,
pick out the clothes that don't fit anymore,
etc
etc.
Not on the list?
"Pluck your little sister's eyebrows."
Yet, when I came home last Wednesday night,
the Caboose asked me if I "noticed anything different?"
I looked--
"what happened to your eyebrows?"
"Dara plucked them!" she beamed.
I looked closer--
to see that Dara had done an awful job--
not only did she pluck them,
but she used tiny scissors to cut them when the Caboose
said she'd had enough of the pain--
and to cover it up, she'd used dark brown eye shadow
over the tiny little hairs to fill it in.
It looked awful.
And I said that outloud.
Which brought tears to the Caboose's eyes--
"I thought I looked beautiful!" she cried.
I hugged her and told her she IS beautiful,
but she also looks like Groucho Marx.

She stopped crying to ask who Groucho Marx is--
just then,
the Boofus piped in,
"She looks like a Wii face!"

A what? I asked.

" A Wii Mii face. You know, from the Wii. You can pick your eye brows n' stuff for your own Mii face."

Got it.

I look at the Caboose again.

Yes, yes she does look like a Wii face.

New rule in the house:

No. 421: 

Dara is not allowed to pluck anyone's eyebrows. Ever.

Have you had to make rules based on ridiculous choices your kids have made?

Things That Inspire Me: Lists, Books and Give-O-Giveaways

It's a quiet morning here on this side of the Rockies.

The clouds are hanging so low

that the hillsides are hidden beneath them.

The house is quiet too,

after Spring Break everyone's back to school.

It's just me and the dog

and a small pile of laundry that's calling my name.

Since Nana left last week,

she's called daily to share her adventures with us.

Before she left,

we both sat down and created "The List"--

if you're a woman and you're reading this,

I know you made your own List when you were young,

right?

1. Sense of humor.

2. Honest.

3. Respectful.

and on and on it goes...

The List contains the finer points of character we want in a companion.

Nana wrote her own list years ago,

when she was just a teenager

but as she's changed, 

so has her List.

So we sat together, and I tapped out on the keys

while she dictated, 

then we printed it up in a smaller font

so she could fold that little paper up

and keep it close

as she goes out in the college scene dating world.

At 6:38 Saturday morning the phone rang

and I jumped outta bed knowing it was Nana!

You know, there should be a different ring tone

for Emergency calls,

and "Hey, Mom, I'm up early and just wanted to hear your voice"-calls.

Just saying.

After a few minutes,

she said she was out in her car,

reading "The List"--

because she'd been away from home just 24 hours

and a few young men were coming on pretty strong 

so much so

that she needed to sort them out, 

if you will.

What sort surprised me

was that some of these young men are well into their 20's-almost 30's--

Nana will be 21 next Fall.

Some 30 year old comes along,

and I wanna poke him in the eye 

or

ping him with a baseball bat!

Unless he's willing to sit through an hour or two

of interrogation--

then we can talk. lol

I digress...

so Nana had her list in her car

and was out there reading it

at six-thirty in the morning.

She's a small town girl

who doesn't wanna get her head turned

in the first twenty-four hours away from home.

So she's reading her list

and talking to her Mom.

At 6:38am.

I miss her.

More than pie.

Speaking of Lists,

Daisie is stepping up being Numero Uno around here.

Hey, she's #5 in the line-up,

but now that she's the oldest at home,

we all wondered how she'd handle it

and I must say,

I'm impressed!

While I have had to work,

she has made sure that I came home to a reasonably sane house--

dishes done,

clutter free,

cookies made,

and youngest yahoos still breathing.
And she made a list too--
a Chore List with just the 3 yahoos' names on it.
I really appreciated that.

She's really coming into her own.

It's actually inspiring.
*********************

Speaking of Inspiring--

I received two beautiful goodies from Deseret Book--

one is a CD by Josh Wright.
His CD arrived with this introduction:
"The twenty-two year-old performer has already proven himself elite in the world of classical music by competing in the prestigious Gina Bachauer International Artists Piano Competition, of which only 38 performers from around the world were invited to. Wright was one of five Americans to play."

I put it on while I was making dinner Saturday night

and we kept it on while eating dinner...

now, you know something is awesome when noone is talking over it!

Josh is classically trained to perfection--

his talent is obvious and lovely.

Some of his arrangements happen to include my 

ALL-TIME favorite songs--

Clair De Lune 

Homeward Bound--

so moving that I nearly dropped tears

into my salad!
He reminds me of William Joseph and Jon Schmidt.
You can go here to get acquainted and order  his CD.
Seriously, you'll want this in your music collection.
The music is timeless and beautiful.
Well done, Josh!

Hillary Weeks.

To know her is to love her.

If you don't know who she is,

you need to find out!

She used to live in Colorado

many moons ago,

and I met her thru a mutual friend 

when she was invited to perform in our Stake.
Hilary writes music about Christ as someone who knows Him.

Hillary is as lovely in person as she is on Stage.

If you've been to BYU's Women's Conference,

you've had the privilege of hearing her music,

her down-to-earth ruminations of Motherhood and cheerios.

So she's written a book--

a collection of what she calls

"The Simple Joys of a Mom's Life"

entitled

"Bedtime and Naptime and Bedtime and Naptime".

The cool thing about this book is that she has included 

a CD with it--

and it's way cute!

Sweet songs and tidbits about her "favorite things",

all of it inspiring and spot-on!

This is a book that you'll want to not only 

RECEIVE,

it's a book you'll want to

GIVE--

to your mom,

your sisters,

your girlfriends,
your daughters,

any gal in your circle of young mothers

that need to know they're not alone 

in the mountains of laundry,

sticky cheerios,

and wee hours of the night with a tiny baby.

Oh, and there are recipes!!

There's one in particular that I am gonna try

this next weekend,

called simply,

"The Cheese Dish".

Gotsta try it!

I have to thank Lois B. at Deseret Book for the opportunity
to enjoy these productions myself and to be able to SHARE them!

That's right, it's time for
Give-O-Give-Away!
To Enter:
Leave a comment about your favorite things!


Winners will be chosen randomly.
Deadline for entries is Friday, April 1st, 2011, midnight.
Easy peasy!

He that Hath Ears to Hear...

I work down the street from our house.

The Seminary building is next-door to my work.

So yesterday when I had a moment,

I noticed the Seminary teacher's bright yellow truck

still parked there after the class was long gone.

I went over and wanted to have a little chat with him.

You see, I suspected

my Super Sweet (almost) Sixteen year old,

is missing her early morning seminary class

more often than she is fessin' up to,

so I did what every Mormon Momza does--

she goes out and gathers the evidence 

so that when she confronts her rotten  inexperienced teenager,

she knoweth whatof she speaketh.

(I dunno why, but thinking about Seminary maketh me think about 

the scriptures, 

and thinking about the holy scriptures, 

doth make me speaketh like thith.)

Unfortunately-eth,

the teacher that satteth there, 

wath not Daisie's,

but he did gathereth up the attendance book

that belongeth to the other teacher

and I checked-eth it out.

The good news is,

she's going more than I thought.

So there will be no smiting or lashings.

The bad news is, well, it's not really bad, 

as more than "hunh?" kinda--

the different teachers call her by two different names--

her given name and her nickname.

Which inspired the teacher that was standing there(Bro. P) to call her 

"D-Squared". lol

I love Seminary teachers.

Since he and I had never met before,

and I have been blessed with the gift of gab,

I told him my whole life story--

well the part where I joined the LDS church at 16,

and was booted out of the house by my folks,

whereupon the members of the Church took me in 

as one of their own,

and one of those members was a Seminary teacher.

Thus, my soft-spot for Seminary teachers.

Eventually the conversation got back around to 

my Super Sweet (almost) Sixteen year old--

she's numero Cinco child,

and as has been noted before,

giving me a run for my money.

Brother P and I got to sharing our insights about 

rotten , er, inexperienced teenagers.

He noted that one of the challenges of any teacher

is to hold the attention 

of ALL of his students.

Some kids come prepared to learn

and some come prepared to yammer

while others come prepared to nap.

I shared that while my oldest son left the house

each morning with his sister and walked to the Church building

for seminary,

she went inside to class,

and he hung out in the parking lot, 

more than he'll admit.

Which causeth angst within mine heart.

(we're talking about Seminary again...thus the language of my fathers.)

Nevertheless,

mine son did go forth to serve a mission with honor and boldness

and did teach and baptize with the Spirit

causing many souls to follow the yearnings of their hearts

and come unto Christ.

And he did taketh up his bride to the Holy Temple

and there

sealed his love for Time and All Eternity.

Until at this time,

we see that he is the Gospel Doctrine Teacher 

in his ward.

And his sister doeth the same,

although her call is not as a teacher in her ward,

but she doth serve as a Secretary in her Stake Relief Society.

I also know of youth who went to Seminary faithfully,

and their light did so shine, yadda yadda--

but at this writing,

they are not active in the faith of their fathers.

So ya just never know what's going on between their ears.

And hearts.

But you can still show them love--

that's free

and always easy to understand 

in the language of their fathers.

**P.S.** I'm over at the Mormon Mommy Blogs Today!

Dear MTV: My Super Sweet Sixteen : An Open Letter

Dear Rich Parents of the newly-turned-sixteen-year-olds
featured on "MTV's" My Super Sweet Sixteen",

[Ahem]
One, you suck.

I have a soon-to-be-sixteen-year-old daughter
whom we shall call "Daisie".
Daisie loves to watch that show--
you know the one where you bazillionaire parents
fork over obscene amounts of money
to your teenagers
to mark their big "Sweet Sixteen" birthday.

I've even sat in on a couple of episodes
just to see what the deal is,
and frankly,
it was breath-taking.
As in,
I couldn't breathe as the dollar signs
add up on screen
along with the limosines,
sparkly venues,
humoungous Cinderella dresses
blinding blingy tiaras
and throngs of high schoolers
all come together
for one night of celebration
for a young person
who is approaching adulthood.

Daisie is turning sixteen
in April
and this past week,
as I was eating a ham and cheese samich,
she handed me
a 6-page party plan
of her own "Super Sweet Sixteen."
I am not kidding.
Six pages.

The theme: Masquerade Ball.
Dress: Formal.
The venue: TBD, preferably at a smashing local hotel.
With a Live Band or a Professional DJ.
Fifty Guests.
Now, just when I was about to cough up my samich,
I got to the bottom of one sheet
where she wrote out
Food: Pizza and Pop.

At least she was budget-conscious
when it came to the food.

Her older sister, Nana was at the table too,
and said, as only an older sister can say,
without causing permanent damage:
"Are you nuts?! One, we don't have that kind of money!
Did you not get the memo that Dad's car just died?
Do you have any idea how much money a party like that would cost?
For ONE night?!
And, no teenager is going to go all out for a tux or a formal for a birthday party
around here.  Do you even have fifty friends?
Have you ever been to a birthday party where teenagers danced?
Seriously Day."--and other sisterly mutterings.


Trying not to be the Crusher of Dreams,
I hushed Nana off her high horse,
and said,
"Let's compromise, Daisie. Tell me what you really wanna do for your birthday,
that doesn't involve thousands of dollars and we'll see what we can come up with together."

Scowling.
Eyes rolling.
Grimace, Grimace.

Do you see what you've created,
you rich, indulgent parents??

How could my teenager
ever be excited about a homemade cake with sprinkles on it,
and a few of her best buddies to share it with--
after seeing your children paraded around on stages,
carried in on platforms,
dropped out of airplanes,
riding up in carraiges or limos
to crowds of more than 500 of their peers,
some of whom exclaim on screen:
"I don't really know her (the birthday girl), but this is the party of the century!"

The truth is, rich parents,
I wonder what kind of people you are,
that you feel all that indulgence is healthy for a child
in the first place?
I get that 16's a big milestone...
that's when the real trouble begins around here--
car keys and dating in one fell swoop is insanity--
and should be celebrated while we can, right?

And one more thing:
how do you top a Super Sweet Sixteen the next year?
Inquiring minds wanna know.
Because once you've been to the top of the mountain,
where's the next thrill to be found?
Isn't it interesting that MTV doesn't have a show called
"My Super Sweet Seventeen"?

What's the goal here for your kids anyway?
What're you teaching them?
Inquiring minds wanna know.
Perhaps MTV could produce a show called
"The Fall-Out of a Super Sweet 16"
and have it focus on what proceeds the days and weeks
following the big bash.
I'd be willing to bet,
it ain't "Super Sweet" at all.

Looking forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Momza

Your Neighbor's Bull --A Para-bull

There was a woman who had a bull.
This bull gave her much grief,
for it was a cross, angry bull.
It was unprofitble in every way.
When the bull saw the woman coming out to the field,
it ran away from her,
or stomped in her direction--
warning her to leave him alone.

At night, the bull hopped the fence
to get into another's pasture.

When this happened,
the woman called her good friends,
"Help! I don't know what to do! My bull has jumped the fence,
and I cannot bring him home without help, please help me."
So her friends dropped everything they were doing,
and ran to help.
When they got to the pasture where the bull was--
ready to help the woman,
it was discovered that the woman,
whose bull it was,
did not show up to help.

A phone call was made to the woman,
"Why aren't you here to retrieve your awful bull?", her friends wanted to know.

The woman replied that she didn't really want her friends to bring her bull
back to her,
she wanted to bull to return to her at the sound of her voice.

So she stood at the edge of her pasture,
day after day,
night after night,
calling, pleading, begging the bull to return to her pasture,
leaving hay and barley for the animal
that ate it every night from his side of the fence,
and each day when the bull didn't return,
the woman called her friends--
"My bull will not return to me. Please help. I don't know what to do."

This carried on for a decade--
most of the woman's friends stopped answering their phone
when she called.
Just one good friend remained loyal
and continued to try to help with the woman's problem--
that of trying to get that nasty bull back into his proper pasture.
Yet, everytime the friend showed up to help with the bull,
the bull stomped about the mud,
splashing the neighbor!
The woman still refused to help herself,
and would only stand at the edge of her pasture,
calling out to the bull to return to her.

Finally, realizing that the woman really didn't want
help from another,
the last loyal friend, stopped answering the phone.

To this day,
the woman stands at the edge of her pasture,
calling out to the awful bull.

****

The moral:
If your neighbor won't step in her own pasture,
to claim her own bull,
you may be left standing up to your knees in mud.


So I came up with this little analogy
last weekend
when Daisie and I were talking about one of her
friends who frequently laments that
she has no friends who truly care about her
struggles.
Altho Daisie has repeatedly reached out to this young woman,
in an effort to help her with her "bull" or problems,
the young woman doesn't accept Daisie's help.
I told Daisie that it doesn't sound like it's  Daisie's help
or attention that's wanted by this friend.
Perhaps it's someone else's attention that her friend can't get
so she releases her frustration in the way she does.
N' I told Daisie to just step back and let her friend figure things out.


Friends share one another's burdens--
this is true,
just be sure that the burden you are willing to
share with your friend,
is one they want Your help carrying.


What advice would you give to Daisie?

Harry Potter Built a Bridge

To be Short, Sweet to the Point:

The 15 yo and I are carving out our relationship...
nevermind that she's the 5th child--
the 5th teenager I've lived through.--
that counts for barely nothing in her book.
She sees all of that as irrelevant
because
she. is. different.

We're going round and round lately
on the same pivots:
school, seminary, home.
I'm predictable.
And I like being predictable.
My yahoos know me pretty good--
and heaven knows,
I want them to.

I don't have any fresh ideas or strategies
I'm just burning to try out--
keep it simple
is my motto.
Well, not really,
I didn't make that up--
some other guy did,
but I like it.

But here's the deal,
the 15 yo wants me to change things up--
she wants to be the exception to every rule
because, you know,
she. is. different.

Unhunh.

She hadn't done her "part"
this past week,
and then was invited over to a friend's house
to hang out on the spur of the moment
last night.
I wanted to say "yes"--
and I even told her so.
This is the hard part about being a parent,
I told her.
I know you really want to go.
I know this is important to you.
And I really really want to just say yes.
BUT
You didn't do your part this past week.
Or even today,
when I asked you to do two very specific things--
you blew them off
until I got on you about it,
and even then, at this moment,
you haven't done one of the things.
And here it is,
6:45 at night.

So what's the right thing to do here?

She huffed and puffed about--
stating her case, as it were,
before me and her Dad,
trying to convince us that
WE were the ones in error..
and it all ended when she finally did the one thing
I'd asked her to do several hours before
(mop the kitchen floor--which took her all of 5 minutes)--
and then sulked down to her room.

I hate this.
I'm too old for this, ya know?

After taking a minute to reflect,
I went down to her room--
finding her with the music blaring,
and her in bed curled up with a book.

(How do they read or even think with that noise on?)

She sat up,
and we talked...
and talked and talked.
And nothing was getting resolved.
Everything I said was met with,
"No. That's not it." from her.
And a "Hold on a sec and listen to what I'm saying." from me.

It was going nowhere.

So I called in reinforcements:
my oldest dd, Dani--
I told her briefly what's going on,
and she agreed to call sometime today.

Then I called my oldest, ds, David Scott--
who wasn't answering his phone.
I figured he was probably out on a date with his wife.
Possibly seeing "Harry Potter".

So with my reinforcements unavailable,
I wondered what could I do to make things better
right then.

So I sat and got a wild hair--
after confiding in Mr. W,
I got online
and quickly bought 3 tickets on Fandango
to see the next showing of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows"
for me, Nana and Daisie.
I scooted down stairs and whispered the plan in Nana's ears--
"Don't tell Daisie we're going, just tell her to get a coat and shoes on."
I went and got some decent clothes on,
brushed my hair, grabbed some shoes and my coat.

Daisie had no idea where we were going
and of course kept asking--
just when we were at the car door in the driveway,
I said,
"We're going to go talk to the Bishop about this and see what he says."

(ain't I a stinker?)

Her response was priceless--
"WHAT? No! No! I'm not going!"
Nana: "Get in the car, dork."

She did but wasn't happy about it.

Then we acted like I took a wrong turn,
and ended up at the theater.

She was surprised, as I'd hoped.
I turned to her and said,
"This is me, making an effort to spend time with you."

Of course, hugs were all around.
The movie was super intense--
and as we came back to the house at nearly midnight,
I thought,
that ol' Harry Potter does alot of good,
he's a good friend to Hermione and Ron,
he's kind to Dobbie,
he's all about fighting the evil he-whom-shall-not-be-named,
and he helped build a bridge between me and my teenager.

That's one good guy right there.

Where We Went N' What We Did--Elitches Amusement Park

In honor of the Fifteenth Anniversary of

The Family: A Proclamation to the World:

"Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when 

founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles

 of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, 

and wholesome recreational activities." 

Quiz:

How many times will a Momza ride

the water-ride

in a row because

her littlest yahoos ask her to?

 Once?

Twice?

 Five times?

Ten?  Did you say TEN?

Is that your final answer?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

But what about when the Momza has had enough--

how many times would the yahoos ride it alone??

Fifteen times!

 Cold, wet and happy!

The Caboose and Me...soakin' wet to the bone. 

Yahoos keep me young--

and help me to see there's still magic!

If you'd like to join in the Celebration, go over to Chocolate on My Cranium's and she'll get ya started!

It's Only Wednesday!--running hard with no end in sight!

Crazy week already..
if you've noticed the absence
of my comments,
this has been my week:

* Monday--
no wait,
let's start on Sunday--
since Dani has been here,
I've been getting up with her
at 2am to feed the Ninja child...
I keep her company
while he eats and then I go back to bed.
I don't know why this baby doesn't sleep
all night long.
He's twenty pounds!
We feed him dinner
we bathe him
and put him down at 9pm.
He sleeps for about 5 hours
and then wants a bottle.
All of my yahoos slept thru the night
around 3 months
some sooner.
So if you've got any ideas,
I'd love to hear them.

Okay, and up at  6am,
to let the dog out.
by Monday morning,
I was already tired...
and if you recall,
my Monday post was actually
written around 2am
because of the cold spell (oh how I wish it'd come back!)
and Mr W's snore-fest.

Daisie returned from her Arizona
trip to visit her birth father,
Monday night.
The excitement to see her--
I even made a door poster--
"Welcome Home Daisie! We Missed You! We Love Your Gutz!"--


quickly evaporated when I saw her
hair.
It's dyed blonde.
There are no words to contain
express
my feelings about this.
She's fifteen.
We talked about dyeing her hair
in depth
and I said
"NO." ---
it's inappropriate for a young woman her age,
it's expensive to maintain
it's unhealthy for your hair,
and all those chemicals into your skin.
blah
blah
blah.
So the homecoming went from
"WOW! She's home!"
to
"Crap! What'd you do to your hair?"
in less than a minute.
In reflection,
I guess I should be grateful she didn't ask
for a tattoo of the Grand Canyon.

After I reattached my head
to the rest of me,
I calmly went down to her room
and handed her two letters
I'd written to her while she was gone.

We talked about her hair--
her plan was just to return to AZ
everytime she needed her roots dyed.
Uh, no.
School is coming up
and there's not going to be a break until the holidays.
Which means,
come September,
her roots may be down to her ears
and that's a natural consequence of her choice.
I'm not bending on this.

She went to visit her birth father
over Spring Break and came back with
highlights--
after Id' already told her "NO.",
so it's not like this is a new thing--
she knew exactly what she was doing.
I think she's at the age where
she's making choices based on the thought,
"It's easier to get forgiveness than permission."
So come September,
October,
November,
December,
with her brown roots lining her blonde dye,
I hope she will learn this lesson:
"When Mom says No,
she means it."
or some other grand lesson on
Choice and Accountability.
Pray for me.
No, wait,
Pray for her.

IN less than 12 hours later,
yesterday morning by 7am,
she was packed to go to our
Stake's
"Daughter of Virtue Camp"...
our Stake just bought some sweet land
in southern Colorado,
where many many hours of work
has been spent clearing the land,
running electricity,
digging a well water system
building pavillions,
several bathrooms with showers!,
raised tent sites,
clearing paths
and establishing grassy gardens areas
in the middle of a lush mountain area
has been created specifically for our
daughters.
I forgot to take pictures yesterday
of
"Camp Joseph"--
but both Nana (who went up as a leader)
and Daisie took their cameras
so we'll put some pics up next week.

I wasn't planning on
driving the two hours south
yesterday morning when I got up--
nope,
I went to drop Daisie off at a meeting place
where it was discovered that there wasn't enough
room in the leaders' cars for both Stuff and Girls--
so my thinker started thinking,
and I said,
"Here, send me."

There was joy and rejoicing in my Suburban
as they filled it to the ceiling
with Stuff,
and the girls left with their leaders,
while I ran home and woke up my yahoos
and told them we're going on a roadtrip today!

We got there about an hour after everyone else,
so that the tents were set-up,
the matching colored t-shirts had been donned,
and the girls were gathered at the flagpole
being greeted and briefed on the rules--
only one really stuck out to me--
"Always have a buddy with you. There are bears in the area."
Got it.
Take someone with you to the bathroom that you can outrun.
Easy-peasy.

The camp is lovely,
it's going to be even more lovely as
we continue to make it so.
The girls were as happy to see us
as we were to see them--
nevermind that we'd just seen them
before they left.
We all mushy-gushy that way.
I don't know why--
it's a sickness really.

After Dani and I and the yahoos
toured the Camp,
we left and drove the 100 miles home.

It was too hot to cook last night,
so we went to

"REDDDD ROBBBBBINNNNN"--
 love their fries...so soft and yummy.
Addictive in every way.
I would in fact, give a kidney for a
bottomless basket of their fries.

What?

Today is supposed to be a scorcher--
over 90-stinkin-degrees
so we're headed out to the pool
to the mall
to anyplace air-conditioned
for the whole day...
We'll hit Costco up at lunchtime--
their free samples tour is to die for--
and love those buck-a-piece-churros,
am I right or am I right??

I love air conditioning.

It's only Wednesday
and there's more to come--
more hot weather
more running around
more "teaching moments"
in every direction.

Catch me if you can...

The Fifteen-Year-Old Speaks

 Freshman Year Tip List

By Daisie

1.      Do your homework, you don’t want to, but do it.

2.      Get up on time. Really. Do it. It saves a lot of trouble.

3.      Go to seminary. It’s good for you. Really.

4.      Eat breakfast. Really. Do it.

5.      Listen to Mom. She knows what she doing. You don’t. Listen. Really.

6.      Listen to your teachers. They don’t hate you. Really. Listen.

7.      Don’t pay attention to stupid boys. They don’t know what they want. You do.

8.      Focus on school not friends. They are important, but not THAT important.

 9.      These grades are important. They count. Make sure they do.

10.  What everyone else thinks doesn’t matter. Only what YOU think does.

11.  Sleep is amazing, but getting an education is better.

12.  Get your crap together then do whatever you have to top your best.

13.  Have a best friend. They do wonders.

14.  Exercise will help with stress. Do it whenever you have time.

15.  Change is good yes. But don’t change yourself so no one will recognize you.

16.  How you act influences your choices.

17.  DON’T PROCRASTINATE. DON’T DO IT. YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE.

18.      Siblings hold the answers to everything high school. LISTEN.

19.      LISTEN TO THOSE THAT HAVE GONE BEFORE YOU. THEY WILL HELP!

20.      Make sure you are prepped for next year. Don’t go into something that you are not prepared for.

21.      High school is a big place. Don’t get lost.

22.       PROBLEMS DO NOT GO AWAY BY THEM SELVES!

23.      THINK BEFORE YOU ACT.

24.      KEEP YOUR PROMISES.  They are IMPORTANT.

25.      Make sure you have everything you need for a great year. Friends. Check. Family. Check. Brain. Check. Listening. CHECK. CHECK. CHECK.

*she actually wrote this for a school assignment.

Other things she learned this year:

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-you-mess-with-bull-you-get-horns.html

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/03/aftermath-of-messing-with-your-teenager.html

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/05/direct-benefit-of-having-whole-heapin.html

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/05/nine-days-till-summer-breakeight-more.html

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/03/dear-mr-easter-bunny.html

and my favorite:

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-bad-do-you-wanna-know.html

I love this blue-eyed babe. 

She has potential.

Definitely.