White Elephant/Money Maker Rated PG-18

I made these as a prank for a Christmas party white elephant gift. But I am quite proud of them, and think they may come in handy and in fact be my moneymaker. May not be suitable for young viewers.
       **Black with fur shown here.

                                                   
Introducing  "Knockers"
"Not tonight dear, I have a headache" "Aunt flo is visiting, yes for the 3rd time this month, no, that isn't weird!" Do either of these sound familiar? Tired of having to use the same old excuses night after night? Well why not let your "Knockers " be the talkers? Simply hang a couple of our "Do not Disturb" signs on your knobs at bedtime. No words even need be exchanged. Communication has NEVER been made easier, or made more clear. No more confusion!!!  So when he comes a knockin', let your "Knockers " do the talkin'. You will love not having  to lie to him ever again. He will love that he doesn't have to waste any time buttering you up by rubbing your back or feet only to later be turned down. On the nights you are feeling a bit frisky, just flip the do not  disturb sign over, and let the fun begin!  Buying a new pair of knockers could save your marriage! *Comes in sizes A-DDD. Available colors white, black, nude, or leopard print. Glow in the dark technology so he can clearly get the message, even in the dark. Or comes in handy if you change your mind, he will be tickled when he see's your knockers glowing in the dark & that you have flipped your sign over from "do not disturb" to "FINE, just make it quick, and try not to wake me".
Makes the perfect Christmas gift for all the women in your life. Your sisters, mother's, aunts,& friends will all thank you for saving their marriage! After all, who doesn't want a new set of "Knockers " ?!!! Buy one get one free special!
*May cause paper cuts, and crinkly sounds if you are a stomach sleeper. Recommend sleeping on back for most effective,clear communication.
Be sure to check out our other marriage saving products like our "Titoo's" a permanent version of "Knockers " 
        *Here I am modeling the white with rhinestone in the DDD size.I actually think he could have    told by the look on my face as to not disturb me. But in case he doesn't pick up on face signals, it is nice to know I have these as a back up.

             *Flirty Leopard print, but not too flirty, says "go away" on the other side.

                    **Cute as can be box they came in!
                    

                                                 
You too, can be the proud owner of these stylish marriage saving, clear communicating devices! Order now!;) ;)

Lead Me, Guide Me

This story is somewhat spiritual. I don't usually post things like this, but after hearing this story you yourself will probably want to share it, no matter what your religion. I heard it 3rd hand so I may not have all the details perfect but I am sure it is close enough.
My dad works in the Draper Temple every Thursday. A few weeks ago while in the Temple he met an older couple who shared this story with him.
They wanted to serve a mission. So they turned in their papers and anxiously awaited the call. The woman had health issues of some kind and certain climates were not good for her. Weeks went by and soon they held the envelope in their hands. They opened it up, 'North Dakota.'
She couldn't believe this is where they were called, she felt that it had to be a mistake because for whatever reason North Dakota would be a bad place for her health. They turned down the call. They decided to serve an inner city mission. They did, and they enjoyed it. So they decided they wanted to try serving another mission. In went their papers. The call came back, and for a second time 'NORTH DAKOTA' was printed in bold letters. Frustrated the couple went to their Stake President. He understood their concerns but he told them to give it serious consideration and prayer. They did, and they felt that they should go despite their hesitations.
On their second day in North Dakota, after getting settled a bit, they decided to go out tracking. When they knocked on the second door, a familiar face opened the door. It was their son, who had cut off all ties from his family years ago, and had given no word to where he was or what he was doing. It had caused much heartache and sorrow to this couple, as they of course always wondered where he was, or even if he was alive. And here they all stood face to face, in of all places, North Dakota. The son had been trying to get the courage to contact them for a year or so, but felt ashamed and like he didn't know how to go about it. He had had a change of heart, but felt overwhelmed at how to ask forgiveness for all the pain he had caused his family. Because of his parents faithfulness they were reunited. They completed there two year mission in North Dakota with renewed faith, love, and trust in the Lord.
I keep imagining the surprise and awe each of them must have felt as they saw one another for the first time in years on that doorstep. Especially the mother, who knew she had been called there by a loving Father in Heaven, who had her best interests at heart and who had led her to her long lost son. Miracles do happen. He wants us each to experience joy, peace, and happiness, simply because we are all his children. He knows us, loves us, and misses us. He NEVER gives up on ANYONE. He too, cannot wait to be reunited with each one of us. It doesn't matter what we have done,what religion we are, even if we have cut off all communication from him, he longs for us to return to him. I know I am not perfect. I have countless flaws. But I, like you, am a daughter/son of God. We are brothers and sisters, and I find joy in knowing he truly has a plan for each one of us. No one is exempt.
Like the primary song "I Am a Child of God" says, I want him to lead me, guide me, and walk beside me, for I know he will never lead me astray.
Thanks mom for sharing this inspiring, miraculous, true story with me.
God truly does, Bless us all.

I am not cooth.

Cooth;–adjective 1. showing or having good manners or sophistication.
I am the opposite. UNcooth;1:strange or clumsy in shape or appearance, outlandish.2:lacking in polish and grace,rugged.3:awkward and uncultivated in appearance,manner,or behavior,rude.

Sunday of last I begrudgingly shoved my body into my panty hose because I didn't feel like shaving.This took quite some effort. After rolling around on the bed and floor for a bit, pulling, stretching,and rearranging body parts, I finally got them on. But I just HAD to tug on them ONE more time, causing them to run.But there was NO way in H-E-double hockey sticks that I was going to take them off after what I have just gone through to get them on. So I just grabbed whatever color nail polish was closest, which of course always happens to be hot pink. Now I was all sweaty, so I just re-applied my Suave powder fresh deodorant.(should have just shaved) Then as I slip on my high heels my mind backflashes to a few Sunday's ago...my family pulls into the church parking lot I watch a woman in my ward who is very COOTH walk flawlessly, effortlessly, GRACEFULLY into the church in her highest of high heels. After we park I get out, I am determined to look as sophisticated and lovely as she. I swing my legs out of the car and my shoe flies off my foot across the parking lot. I run to get it and snag yet another hole in the big toe of those dumb hose, it immediatley runs all the way to my upper thigh. Then as I am running, my panty hose also begin to unroll over my belly to my upper thigh. I put my shoe back on and try to catch up to my family that has probably in embarrassment, run like the wind into the chapel. As I stumble through the lobby I knock over an easle with a poster board on it,as I pick it up I hit my funny bone on the wall. I decide to go to the bathroom to remove the destroyed panty hose. I glance in the mirror on my way out and realize I have only put mascara and eyeliner on ONE eye. This was particulary funny to me because it reminded me of how a few weeks eariler my mother had accidentally used red lip liner as eyeliner, making her look like a clown.
While I am wiping the make-up off one eye, someone knocks on the bathroom door(I am in the handicapped single bathroom that has a lock on it) so without looking I throw the tissue I am using into the garbage and quickly leave the bathroom without a second glance in the mirror.
I go in and sit next to my family, who I must say, looked very cooth, and like they come from a very cooth mother.
My daughter who is coloring next to me drops a crayon and crawls under my seat to get it. She stands up and says "Mom, why is the back of your leg all pink?" I turn my leg, and all over my exposed non-hosed hairy calve is hot pink nail polish from that day's pantyhose repair. It is not just a little nail polish mind you.
So I am feeling embarrassed over my whole pink hairy leg situation when my phone begins ringing LOUDLY DURING the sacrament. And guess where I had to reach for it to make it stop. MY BRA. REAL CLASSY. Least I got to forget to be embarrassed about my hairy pink legs for a second, and just got to focus on being embarrassed about my loud ringing AND vibrating bosom.
After sacrement I got to wander the halls in the heels that I cannot walk in. I am the roll lady(this title fits me in so many ways), so I spend the entire last 2 hours just running up and down the halls, handing out and collecting attendance rolls. It also requires a lot of bending over to pick rolls up off the floor from people sliding them under the door. I feel like I greet people in the hall with my bottom more then I do with my face.
In the first hour I got 3 blisters from my horrid heels. They also wouldn't stop squeaking. So up and down I go squeaking, drawing more attention to my hairy pink legs. Finally I go into the bathroom to take my shoes off, I look in the mirror and realize I have one raccoon eye, where I had tried to wipe off my make-up earlier, nice, it had been like that for hours. I walk out barefoot,which reminds me of an article I had read about Britney Spears being a redneck because she went shoeless into a public restroom. So what did that make me walking around barefoot in a church?
Backflash ends. I am back in my room about to put on my other heel. I remove the snagged hose that I had just repaired with hot pink nail polish. I throw them and my heels into the trash can, and reach for my black flats. I may not be able to be cooth, but from now on I might as well be comfy while I am being uncooth.

Nostrils that go BUMP in the night

Kevin is a man of many talents. But I have to say that his ability to mimic sounds while he is sleeping, through his snoring has got to be one of his greatest. What amazes me most about this, is that not only does each snore take on it's own unique sound, it seems as if he is throwing the sound. For example on many occasions I think there is a burglar downstairs whistling while he is rummaging through my pantry. But as I strain to hear I realize it is just coming from Kevin's nostrils,I don't know how he makes it seem like the sound is coming from another room. Last night I was having this exciting dream that I was being pushed around in a shopping cart by Angelina Jolie and she was letting me put whatever I wanted into the cart,(I think perhaps I had just been adopted by her and Brad)Just as I was about put a darling pair of shoes into my cart I was rudely awakened by a baby crying. So I go to nudge Kevin awake and tell him I am concerned because I can hear a baby crying when I realize AGAIN, that it is just Kevin's nose wailing, I resist the urge to say "I'll give you something to cry about" and also resist the urge to punch him in the nose, mainly because I fear if I do that the sounds coming from it will somehow get louder if his nose is enlarged and swollen.
One time his snoring sounded exactly the same as when Ariel from Disney's Little Mermaid, was singing ah ah ah ah ah ah,his nose hit every note perfectly. I wish I had recorded it. There was also another time that I thought our car alarm was going off in our garage. Nope, must have just accidentally bumped Kevin causing his nose alarm to sound. I have to say the weirdest one that seems to happen the most is the snoring that sounds just like one of my kids saying "MOM!" This one always makes me wake up and I immediately bolt down the hall to their rooms only to find them sleeping. Then when I get back in bed and try and go back to sleep I realize that it was only Kevin's nostrils doing the "mom" impersonation.Sometimes in the winter I get to awake to the sound of birds chirping at 5am, I don't mind because it makes me think Spring is coming, until the snoring takes a turn for the worse and starts sounding like a rabid dog EATING the now screeching birds. The toilet flushing snortle is also regularly played.
Sometimes his snoring is a soothing rhythmic sound that lulls me to sleep. Other times it keeps me awake. More often times it startles me awake and I say "WHAT WAS THAT?!" and Kevin will answer "it was just my nose, go back to sleep."
I wonder what impersonations his nose will do tonight, I wish his nose would take requests, I like the lapping waves one, quite relaxing, Ooo or Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up" was a good one too!
In our bed, there is NEVER a dull nor perfectly quiet moment, and I wouldn't want it any other way!

Confessions of an Overprotective Paranoid Mother

It all started when I was holding my firstborn while eating my dinner. He was about 6 days old. I was eating a baked potato when some sour cream missed my mouth and splattered onto my newborn's little baby cheek. I looked down at him, it hit me, just like the sour cream hit him, how he couldn't wipe the mishap off his own face. Without me the dallop of Daisy would probably just stay there globbed to his face for quite sometime. I realized how vulnerable, needy, and dependant he was. Dependant ON ME! Without me and my ability to wipe, he would just have to sit there, a little sourcream puss.(of course without me and my inability to get food IN my mouth it would have never been on his puss to begin with.)
Being a mother meant it was my responsibility to keep this little helpless being alive for the rest of his life. And not only keep him alive, but keep him happy and healthy! That is when my happy easygoing nature ended. From that moment on I became "SMOTHER" of the year. 15 years and 2 more kids later I still hold the world championship title.
It has been taxing at times being the worrier that I am. And at others it is just plain embarassing. Whenever we are out in public you will probably hear me say "where is Natalie?" or "I can't see Max" in a panicked tone at least 15 times each outting. I do not let my little kids play out in the front yard without me present. Diseases and kidnappers are two of my biggest phoebias. I know where my kids are at all times, and I do not let them use ANY public restrooms without me or an adult they know accompyaning them.
The other day Maxton asked me if he could ride his bike over to his friends house. He had never been to this particular friends house and although this friend lives in our neighborhood it is quite far from our house. I thought about this, wanting him to be able to have this little bit of freedom. So to my own suprise I heard myself say "ok." He got on his bike and then said "what if I get lost?" Great, now my paranoid mind was spinning, so since I was taking my older son over to the movie theatre right then I told him I would follow him in the car. So I did, and he knew the way just fine. As he arrived at his friends house I drove by, the mother of his friend was outside doing yardwork. She asked me what I was doing, I explained I was worried Max might get lost so I had followed him to her house. I also admitted he had never ridden his bike all alone through the neighborhood due to my paranoid nature. She told me that Max could meet her son at their home each morning and ride together to school. "WHOA now, baby steps" I blurted out, she looked at me funny. But I knew there was no way I could let Max ride all the way to school without me pulling all my hair out with worry.
I told her to send Max home at four o' clock. And I told myself that I was not going to worry and go over there and follow him home, that I would let him ride home on his own and that he would be ok. I drove my oldest to the movie theatre and dropped him off, without a second thought, I guess my obsessive behavior ends by the time they reach 13 or 14 and I begin to relax, a little. I drove home. As 4 o' clock approached I again told myself I was NOT going to go follow him home. At 3:59 I was in the car. I didn't want the mother of Max's friend to see me. So I pulled up to a curb a few houses down and watched for Max on his bike. By 4:04 I was worried he had gone the way of the busy street. So I pulled out and drove by the house where he was playing, his bike was still in the drive-way. The mom, who is also MY friend said "is it four o'clock already?" I lie "oh just barely,I am on my way to pick up my other son from the movies, will you just tell Max to go home and I will be there in a minute?" she says "sure thing, see ya Eve." I didn't really need to get my oldest he was getting a ride with someone else's mom, I was just too embarrassed to let her know what a freak I am. So I drove around the block and parked my car along side the same curb a few houses down and waited for Max. Once again he didn't come. I waited 6 minutes then drove around the block in the opposite direction so it would appear that I was on my way BACK from the movie theatre. I saw that Max was headed home. I drove-by Maxton's friends house, and saw my friend again who was still outside, I waved, not even thinking about the fact that she might notice that I didn't have my other son in the car with me. I followed Max all the way home. I was feeling embarrassed and ashamed of my overprotectiveness. I stopped to talk to my cute friend who lives across the street. I told her about what I had just done. She laughed and then told me that she didn't even let her daughter ride her bike a few doors down unless she was watching her, and her daughter is older then Max. That made me feel like I wasn't alone in my "smothering". Later that night when I was tucking Max into his bed he said "mom, I knew you would come follow me home" I said "I am sorry, someday I won't worry so much" he then said "I was glad I knew you would be coming, and I knew you WOULD come, that is why I wasn't scared." Bless his heart for giving me what I needed to hear, that he was ok with me being the freakish mother that I am. I love my kids.
I admire all the many kinds of Mother's there are out there. Especially my own overprotective paranoid mother, who always knew where I was and who would never let me go into a public restroom alone,or even let me play in the germ infested ball pit, I myself always felt safe, protected and loved. Oh and she always tells me when I have sour cream on my face, which is almost always.

Poor Meatball

Today I woke up with the 'Meatball' song in my head, you know the one.."On top of spaghetti all covered with cheese I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed."
This song always reminds me of Hayden. One day I was singing it over and over while I was cleaning the house. Hayden was about 6. He came up to me and said "mom, will you please stop singing that song!" I asked him why. He replied "because it just so sad, someone losing their poor meatball like that." I laughed and told him that it was a funny song, not sad, then I started singing it again to show him it was just for fun. He looked up at me with a serious look on his face and then raised his little voice to me,"STOP SINGING IT. IT IS SAD. IT MAKES ME SAD! POOR MEATBALL, poor PERSON whose meatball is ROllING AWAY! Don't sing it EVER again, I never want to hear it again!"
I knew he liked his meatballs, but I guess I had underestimated his feelings for them.
A few months later Kevin started singing it in the car on our way home from somewhere. I had told Kevin the funny story about Hayden not liking the song right after it happened, I looked over at him and I knew he was singing it on purpose to see if Hayden would still react the same way.
Sure enough, Hayden from the back seat yells "DAD stop singing that SAD song!"
9 years later Hayden's favorite food is meatball subs. I imagine meatballs rolling away are still no laughing matter to him. When he comes home from school today maybe I should be singing a new version of the song just to see what happens.
'Inside of my sandwich all covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball when too hard I squeezed....'

Shame on me, I don't really want to see a teenage boy cry.
Appreciate those meatballs, you never know when the poor things might roll away.

Final Farewell Fatttest of Fat Pants

How we spent most of our time together

I am happy to say that bit by bit my bits are shrinking. This means the pants from my fat & happy days are starting to sag on my still plump but getting less so frame. My fat pants and I have walked many a mile together. More accurately I guess we have sat on many a couches together. Many times throughout my life I have put them high up on a shelf in my closet & said 'good-bye' to them as I have lost weight, only to say 'hello again' as soon as I had consumed one too many cheeseburgers. But this time I think it is time we part for good. I feel the signifigance of saying good-bye to my favorite fat pants may be just the ticket to keeping my bum small. Afterall if I knew my bum would have no where comfortable to go if it did grow back then perhaps it could remain small for ever. Tough love is the only way sometimes. So I say good-bye old fat friend. I will always remember the way your soft denim material protected my thighs from getting fat burn when they rubbed together. How you always hugged my waist, my belly never went a day without a hug. Also I appreciate you resisting the urge to split open right down my back side everytime I bent over.
So if anyone could use a car cover, or a tarp? A circus tent? If broken down you might possibly be able to make 20 new pair of jeans out of them. If I were a sew-er my kids would be in jeans for the next 2 years! They will be neatly folded in my trash can out back. But I am warning you, if you do come take them, DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT keep them folded in your closet, your bum size WILL increase, guaranteed.
2 months from now hopefully I will bid farewell to my second to fattest fat pants....

The Romance is Dead.

Cause of death? Multiple gas passing's, bum scratchings, petty arguments,MORNING breath that can, at times last into the night, and one too many donuts I suspect.

Sitting on a church bench wedged between my husband and two of my children who were fighting. I began dwelling on the passing of the romance me and my husband used to share. I was really pitying myself and grieving over the loss of my once great romance.
A few days later I was at the school once again sitting next to my husband as we waited for our 2nd grader's school program to begin. I was annoyed at my husband for some reason I can't even remember now,so we were barely speaking. My son's class shuffled in and sat down. When all the children began singing my husband held up the video camera and began filming, he zoomed in on our little boy's face, he was smiling and singing his heart out, I could see his cute dimples.I looked over at the man I had been feeling irritated at for days, he was also smiling and looked just like our second grader. I felt a pull in my chest and suddenly I felt so close to him. As I watched his face watching our little boy's face I felt so connected to him. We were both feeling pride in the life that we had, in love, created together. My heart began to pitter patter, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I had to get my wits about me quick or I would surely maul the poor guy with kisses and embarrass our pride and joy, and quite possibly get kicked out and asked never to return again. I didn't say anything to my husband that day. Just sat there through the rest of the program silently admiring him all the while my heart swelled.
Of course as soon as the rest of the afternoon played out, he did things that frustrated me, and the feelings I had been having were soon forgotten.
The weekend came and my bad attitude was ever present. Everything he did was annoying to me. Went to bed mad at him. Even went as far as to make a wall of pillows in between us so that there was NO WAY he could touch me or see me. The next morning I woke up and the first thought that popped into my head was how I felt about him at the school program. Oh, how I wished I had told him how I had felt that day. I looked over at the wall of pillows separating us. I began removing it one pillow at a time until there was nothing separating us. He was awake and staring over at me. I looked away, unsure how he was feeling. I closed my eyes and then ever so slowly reached my hand out until it found his. He gave it a good squeeze. We stayed like that for a moment, then I went to move my hand but he grabbed it and held it tight against his chest. I moved closer to him and he put his arms around me and he just held me. His ear was next to my lips, so I whispered "sorry. I love you." He whispered back "I love you." I am sure BOTH of us had bad morning breath, but never can I remember a more romantic moment. Yes, gas is passed, bums are scratched, occasionally you get a peep of someone a peepin'. But he and I together are learning what it truly means to love and forgive another person who is just HUMAN after all, honestly what is more romantic then that? Go ahead honey...let em' rip! Just kidding, but when it does happen hopefully this post can remind me that the only thing that kills the romance is a bad attitude & an unforgiving heart.

I am the mother of people

Do any of you ever sit and think about how strange it is that you are mothers of real PEOPLE?
Even after 15 years of motherhood, it still weirds me out at times that there are people whom I am a mother to. Weirder still, those people once lived and grew inside my belly.Someday the people that I am a mother to will have their own little people. Then I will be a grandmother to people. People that wouldn't have ever existed if I hadn't had people. Then all those people will go out and find people to make more people with. That is a lot of people to be responsible for. Seems like only yesterday that I was living with the people my mother is a mother to. I would dream about the day when I would have my own people. I wondered what my people would look like, how many people I would have. So it shouldn't surprise me that I am the mother of people, but yet at times it still seems overwhelming and strange that there are people whom I am the mother to. Get what I am saying people?

A couple pictures of me mothering the cute people that I am "mother" to.

Hayden on his first day of kindergarten.

Playing with the kids in granpa's "magical backyard"

The Simple Life (no not starring Paris Hilton, nor Nicole Richie)

I have never heard anyone say life is easy. But how many times have I heard someone say life is hard? Too many to count. But I have also heard people say it is the simple things that make life sweet. This morning, while looking for something to wear I came across my favorite shirt fresh out of the dryer. There is nothing special about this shirt, it is just a t-shirt, but it is an oh so comfy one. When I saw it I grabbed it and excitedly hugged it to my face,it smelled like dryer sheets. Call me crazy but I just love it when my favorite clothes are clean and easily findable, makes me happy. Made me aware of how the little things really can help soften life's hard edges.
A few (ok 11) simple pleasures that I daily take for granted
*A couple weeks ago Diet Coke would have ranked close to number one on my list. But I feel so much more happiness in the fact that I was able to give up my #1 vice. Simply, I am happier in knowing that there is nothing other then my family that I can't live without.(other then my favorite t-shirt, oh and toilet paper)
*Time alone while the kids are at school. At first I didn't know what to do with myself. Now I cherish the time I get to spend with me, myself, and I. I am a pretty fun gal.
*After a morning and afternoon to myself there is NOTHING I enjoy more then when evening comes and everyone is home safe and the house is a bustle of activity.
*Getting to church early enough to sit on the padded bench seats. This has only happened once, but my bum reminds me how wonderful it was every time we are sitting in the far back on the very cold hard chairs.(course I do like being able to conceal my naughty family from the rest of the congregation.)
*Listening to my Ipod in the car. I love how my kids call out requests from the backseat. I feel like a cool DJ spinning my wheels. I love that we all sing at the top of our lungs together even though we shouldn't, we do not have the voices of angels. I am sure the angels in heaven can hear US though, hopefully we are not opening the gates of hell.
*Hearing my little cuckoo bird come out to announce what hour it is. It is such a nice cozy sound, my cuckoo clock is my favorite thing I own. Perhaps it is because I can relate to being a little cuckoo. Or maybe it is because I mentioned once how much I wanted one, and Kevin remembered and got me one for my birthday years ago.
*Every time I sit down at the computer my cat, Gabby comes in,jumps up and lays down on my chest. Even though it makes it hard to see and to type, I enjoy her company.
*Playing games. I love games, especially ones I am better at then Kevin.
*Good conversations. I love it when you feel a connection with others just by being together, or talking on the phone. I live for time spent with family and friends.
*The bathroom. It is the one place in the house where I can go that people leave me alone, for the most part. Sometimes I go in there just to be alone I bring my phone,lock the door, shut the lid to the toilet, sit down and play a game, or get on Facebook, or sometimes read a book.
And last but not least...
*Relaxing with my hubby on the couch watching one of our favorite shows after a long hard day and the kids are in bed.
There are so many more simple things that make a big difference. Good food. Seeing a sunset. Reading a good book. A back scratch. A picture drawn by one of my children. Enjoying the outdoors.The list could go on and on. But out of all, I believe that laughter is truly one of life's greatest pleasures, it is as they say, 'The best medicine'. There is a funny side to every situation, now, if only I could always see it when life does get hard. "Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it is about learning to dance in the rain" Or as Natalie might say, if poop on a stick is all that if offered, just accept it, and then laugh about it.(even if accepting it makes you the one being laughed at.)
Enjoy the little things!

Love this picture Natalie drew for me about a year ago. I keep it up on the wall next to my vanity so that I can remind her that she was the one that said we were Bffe's=Best friends for eternity. I also like that I am quite small in this picture. It is my "thinspiration"

Wanderlust

I am restless, I feel like a caged monkey hanging in a tree that can see banana's but they are just out of my reach. Actually since giving up sugar I feel more like a fat kid in a cage in the middle of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory surrounded by oompa loompa's waving chocolate bars in my face and I can't grab them because my chubby arms won't fit through the bars.
Back to why I am feeling caged and restless. I guess it is because we have been given a few glimpses of spring. I know it is coming, but it just can't get here fast enough.
I have diagnosed myself with cabin fever. I think there is an epidemic going around.
But it goes beyond craving warm weather.(and chocolate) I want to GO someplace. Be SOMEWHERE else. See something new. I would be willing to get on an airplane even with my new found fear of flying. I have never had this phobia, I have flown here and there, and everywhere. Now suddenly out of no where I have this irrational fear of flying? Perhaps I have seen one too many movies this winter. Snakes on a Plane? Alive? But like I said, I would still be willing to get on one so I could cure this wanderlust I am feeling.
I can see myself surrounded by lush green rolling hills, I am spinning in circles with my arms thrown high in the air above my head and I am singing a song about hills being alive by the sound of my music.(again, one too many movies)In fact I need to scratch that, the hills being alive part, hills with eyes, not one of my favorite things.
Instead I envision myself on a giant ship. Out on the beautiful sea. Standing on the bow of the ship with my arms spread wide like I am flying, wind blowing through my perfect locks. Kevin standing behind me holding me close and shouting 'I am King of the World!'Umm, for some reason that just gives me a SINKING feeling.
Ok, I am lying on a beach watching Kevin paddling out in the water on a surf board hoping to catch the next big one. Wait, what is that I see coming up behind him? A gigantic fin. Dun dun...dun dun da na na! 'Get out of the water!' if only he had heard the dun dun's sooner....
Movies might be the safer option. But as soon as I get the chance, I AM OUTTA HERE. I am thinking Greece with my honey honey. Mamma Mia! That does sound fantastic doesn't it! I hope when I tell Kevin where I want to go he doesn't say 'Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.'
I really do need to get off the couch, out of the theaters, and outside! HURRY UP SPRING!

Poop on a Stick Anyone?

This is an old story that happened a few years back, Natalie was about 4 years old. Most of you have probably heard it before, but it is funny, and I felt it should be documented,even if it does make me out to be a mean, gross momma.

It had been an overly chaotic morning and I was still recovering from my hysterectomy. The kids had all needed to be pulled whining from their beds. They had fought me on wearing the clothes that had been laid out for them the night before, what I had made for breakfast, and anything else they could think of to dispute with me and one another. To top it off Hayden wasn't ready when the carpool arrived, so I had to drive him. I wasn't really supposed to be driving yet due to my recent operation, but I had no choice. As I drove down the rode with kids arguing with each other I decided that I NEEDED a Diet Coke, right then and there or I was never going to make it through the rest of the day. So I headed towards The District. I knew I only had a couple dollars with me, enough for one Diet Coke, MY Diet Coke. I also knew that as soon as my kids saw where we were they would start asking for things. So I warned them that I would be going to Chick-fil-a and that the only thing we were getting was a drink for myself, and I explained that they had already eaten and that they don't even serve french fries this early in the morning. Natalie asks, "what do they have?" Me, being in a bad mood not wanting to deal with anymore questions replies in a teasing tone "they only have poop on a stick this morning." She quiets down. I pull up to the menu board to order my life line. After I say into the speaker 'one Diet Coke please', Natalie in a monotone little voice says "I guess I will have the poop on a stick" followed by a heavy sigh. She truly believed me when I had said that was all they were serving and she was willing to settle for poop on a stick, just so she wouldn't have to leave there empty handed. Of course Hayden, Max, and I couldn't help from laughing. We laughed all the way to Hayden's school. Needless to say that was more beneficial to my mood then the Diet Coke. Natalie didn't think it was as funny. She was pretty mad that she had been duped, and then laughed at. And the poor thing, to this day her brothers still tease her about it from time to time. They say things like "Natalie, we are having your favorite dinner tonight, poop on a stick!"
And sadly it has entered my vocabulary, whenever I am upset about something it seems to come out, like when I stub my toe, or drop something, "POOP ON A STICK!" just naturally slips out. I still can remember looking back in the rear view mirror as she shrugged her little shoulders after saying she guessed she would have the poop on a stick. Funny funny precious little girl, she so often is just what the doctor ordered. Life without her would certainly be POOP on a STICK!

Something's missing from that hand...Oh ya, Diet Coke!

I QUIT! I am Diet Coke free. Been 5 days.I think the blood has finally replaced the Diet Coke running through my veins, somehow I still live and breath! The headaches have finally stopped.(well at least the ones caused by lack of caffeine,the ones brought on by my children are still frequent)but alas I will happily never be children free. And I hear that soon I will be able to hold my hand out flat again, after it gets used to not having a Diet Coke in it's grip.;)
Benefits of quitting? For one,there should be a lot more money in the bank due to the fact I am not spending it all on Diet Coke. But the biggest benefit I have noticed is that I can fall asleep at night.
Usually I battle with insomnia, and before now I struggled to fall asleep before about 1:00 am.Since I quit, I have been falling asleep FAST and EARLY, the other night I was sound asleep by 9:45. That may not seem significant to you, but believe me, I haven't been asleep that early since I was about 9. Falling asleep before Kevin means falling asleep before the symphony of snoring begins!! These early nights have meant happy rested early mornings, and it makes me feel good about my decision to quit.
I have been drinking one or two cans of Fresca a day,I have discovered it is such a refreshing, delightful little beverage.Soon I want to quit soda all together.It has been a bit embarrassing pulling out cans of Fresca's when we go out to eat, and the empty cans in my purse afterward make me feel a bit like a bag lady, especially when they clank together.
I have also been introduced to water. I have been drinking it, A LOT of it. The constant need to relieve myself does get annoying,and come to think of it, the money I was saving by not purchasing DC probably just goes to using more toilet paper, so,I guess the money is actually being flushed down the toilet!.I keep having dreams that I am going, when I wake up I have to run to the b-room just to make it on time. Admit-tingly sometimes when I am DREAMING I am going,I wake up and I am ACTUALLY going. Sorry Kevin. Sorry mattress.
Overall I feel very proud of myself. If I can do this, I can do anything. So I quit sugar as well. I am down 8 lbs! People are always telling me not to be a quitter. But quitter I am, and it feels GREAT! SO I say QUIT people QUIT, give something up today,YOU CAN DO IT! I don't mean to sound ungrateful to Diet Coke, we have shared many memories, and I will never forget the happiness it brought into my life.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree...

Thank heavens, cause this apple NEEDS it's tree.
But what about oranges? And is it possible that apples and oranges can come from the SAME tree? Must be, because I find that me and some of my siblings are as different as apples and oranges. Good thing I love oranges.
I fell from an apple tree, thus I am an apple who loves the tree in whence it came. It was a good tree that offered unconditional love, protection,laughter,and wonderful life lessons. My tree probably would have allowed me to stay nestled in it's warm loving branches forever. But it knew what was best for me and when I got restless it allowed me to break free. When I did,I fell hard.Caused myself many a bruises. Invited unsavory worms that should never have been allowed in,they left permanent little teeth marks. I am sure my tree wanted to swat what was once my LITTLE apple bottom with one of it's switches.But my tree has never left my side. It offers a safe shady haven, and helps shield me from life's unpredictable storms. Without it I wouldn't have weathered so well. In fact I would have been pelted to death. I look up to it everyday. And although some of you may think I must have fallen from a nut tree, especially after reading this post. I assure you it is a strong beautiful perfect apple tree. I hope to plant the seeds that it planted so lovingly in my core inside my own little apples, so that when they fall,it won't be too far from their tree. Because I LOVE THEM APPLES, even if at times they do turn this apple into a nut.

Smaller Booty Call

A few days ago I got a call from my father-in-law.(after my post about how Kev I and broke a bench in Park City, interesting....) He told me that his Dr had recommended that he lose 20lbs. He then said that to help motivate him that he and I should have a race to lose weight.(I think he is trying to motivate ME, what do you think?) The winner I guess, would be 20 pounds lighter. I agreed and hung up. I have been aware of my need to jump on the get healthy band wagon, but a wagon with a live band on it serving ice cream,cake, and nachos sounds so much more delightful to me. Guess it is a good thing I don't get late night booty calls, instead I get, let's get smaller booty calls. Ok, pops, on your mark, get set go....yes I know you started yesterday, I was being fair by giving an old man a head start.;)