Friday, July 31, 2009

Dear David DeAngelo,

I just wanted to let you know that whatever you paid Google, and whomever you paid to set up the target words to get your site to pop up on the "sponsored links" on google ads is working. It was money well spent. In the past 2 days, your site had come up on the sidebar next to my GMail account as I've read some emails that people have sent me. I don't always look at these, but I do often enough to see repeats when it comes to the sponsors.

The thing is, Mr. DeAngelo, I'm not sure why your site keeps coming into my inbox. You run a site for picking up women. I'm a woman. A heterosexual woman. A married, heterosexual woman. Go figure.

Anyway, have a nice day. Good luck in your business. It's been a while since I've been able to write anyone a letter and I doubt this one will make it to the google page (thank goodness!). You have a lot of followers and links out there. I'm sure you'll be fine without my business.

Fondly,
H

Thursday, July 30, 2009

The China-Prostitute Recession Theory

I sometimes try to understand the economy. I don't try too hard because it just plain hurts my brain. I know I should care more and try harder but I just can't. Our friend, Scott, tries and tries to get me to care and engage and even offers up podcasts that are supposed to be really user friendly. It wasn't until I hit him with an amusing email that was sent to me that we finally found a breaking ground for my understanding of the recession. Now, I know I've already lost some of you (April!), but I did my best to get some of you hooked with the title of this post. So, here goes, the "China-Prositute Recession Theory".

It is a slow day in the East Texas town of Madisonville. It is raining, and the little town looks totally deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt and everybody lives on credit.

On this particular day a rich tourist from the East is driving through town. He enters the only hotel in the sleepy town and lays a hundred dollar bill on the desk stating he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one to spend the night.

As soon as the man walks up the stairs, the hotel proprietor takes the hundred dollar bill and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher.

The butcher takes the $100 and runs down the street to pay his debt to the pig farmer.

The pig farmer then takes the $100 and heads off to pay his debt to the supplier of feed and fuel.

The guy at the Farmer's Co-op takes the $100 and runs to pay his debt to the local prostitute, who has also been facing hard times and has lately had to offer her "services" on credit.

The hooker runs to the hotel and pays off her debt with the $100 to the hotel proprietor, paying for the rooms that she had rented when she brought clients to that establishment.

The hotel proprietor then lays the $100 bill back on the counter so the rich traveler will not suspect anything. At that moment the traveler from the East walks back down the stairs, after inspecting the rooms. He picks up the $100 bill and states that the rooms are not satisfactory...... Pockets the money and walks out the door and leaves town.

No one earned anything. However the whole town is now out of debt, and looks to the future with a lot of optimism. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how the United States Government is conducting business today.

I sent the above silly analgy to Scott and he responded by saying that none of those people really had reason to be worried unless they feared that one of them would not come through on their debt. It was a circular debt, which I can actually picture, which meant that their balance sheet actually came out to zero. (Those were Scott's words, not mine!) But then Scott took it a step further, because that's what he does, and this is where the breakthrough is made for me...

"We have one guy with a ton of money, who lends to the hotel proprieter, the the butcher, the pig farmer, the supplier, and the prostitute...

This man has a lot of money for lending, but he decides to save and lend his money rather than spend it on himself. He lives a poor miserly existence, but he has access to all the cash...

And the folks in town are dependent on loans from this man and are afraid that he'll stop lending or will raise the interest rates...

Well, this rich man is China and the borrowers are the US...

There's a ton more to the story...

But the bottom line is China has flooded our markets with cheap cash that they've gotten from us buying all of the goods they manufacture on our behalf. But instead of pumping that money back into our markets by buying our goods... They save it and lend it back to us...

Its a global trade imbalance that had a lot to do with our current recession. And a recovery depends largely on our ability to correct that imbalance.

Get that miserly hoarder to service that prostitute darn it.. :-) (j/k)."

And that folks, is the China-Prostitute Recession Theory.

Oh, we're such a riot, aren't we? I'll assume Scott doesn't mind me pulling all of this out of the comment section of his blog and reposting it. It was just way too insightful for me to let go. Plus, I love me a good theory.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

They Can Be Taught

Three weeks ago we started a sewing project in Young Women. Each girl came up with their own saying, drew it on the muslin, and stitched it on with embroidery thread. Then we did a little quilting around the edges and sewed it onto a back so it can be stuffed into a pillow. Last week, when we still weren't done they were asking to complete it this week because, as one girl said, "I don't need ANOTHER unfinished project at my house!" That was awesome, and so typical for me. So here are the 4 completely ones. Mine didn't get finished (I was busy helping) and one of the girls that missed last week is still working on hers...The best part of this whole project was the 3 nights of sewing and chatting that we were able to do. One of the youth said something like, "I feel like my grandma when she sits around with all the old ladies quilting." WooHoo! I told them it was "pea shellin' time"... the time when women used to sit around shelling peas together, talking and working at the same time. Now our peas come frozen and ready to eat so we have to come up with other ways to connect with our sisters. They got a kick out of the frozen pea issue.

The other thing that was funny tonight stemmed from our discussion last week. They talked about wanting to cook and make some donuts this week. We decided to finish these pillows, but one of the girls called me today to see if we were making donuts. We weren't but I've been thinking about donuts since she called. Of course, I picked up a dozen on my way to mutual. Here's the conversation that ensued:

Me: You can all thank Amber for the donuts.
Amanda: Why?
Me: Because she called me this afternoon to ask if we were making them today.
Amanda: I don't get it.
Me: Well, she asked about donuts and then that was all I could think about.
All the girls: Oooh! (laughing)
Me: I'm pregnant, you know, that's not nice.
Allie: I get it. So all we have to do is call you on Wednesday and say "hey is tonight the night we're making brownies or pizza or cookies" and you'll end up bringing them.
(more laughing)

Ah, yes. Those girls are such a riot. It's amazing how quickly they can learn when it involves food.

WW: Getting Comfy at the Hospital




Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Ready to be Bandaged Up


Because I know You All Want to See...

This is what it looked like initially, on day 2. The bright red was 2nd degree, right by it (where it looks a little white) was the spot that we were concerned about. The pink going down the arm was still developing into blisters and it had barely shown up at this point. Who knew it took that long for a burn to show up? Wow, it all looks so red and raw in this picture.

This one was taken today as we cleaned it off in the shower. As you can see, the spots going down her arm have almost all healed. They are a strange brown color in spots, but you really wouldn't notice anything if there wasn't a bandage and other problems going on. The red is now pink and the white spots are mostly gone. There were never any more talks of skin grafts after th first few days, so thank you all for your prayers. I know they worked!

As you can see by her smile, Tasha is taking it all pretty well. Obviously she was still in the shower when we took the picture and she wasn't screaming at all. There were a few moments that she didn't want to work on it all, but she plugged away and I think we did a pretty good job cleaning the area. Wrap up went fine, no complaints at all. I think I made a fine nurse this morning. I think I have a better close up picture I will try to post as well.

Monday, July 27, 2009

We're Outta Here!!!



Thanks everyone for all the pictures, cards, and balloons!

Davis's, Sauer's, Lee's, Turley's, Momo, UOP, Primary, Kyra

Tasha says, "kids, I missed you!" And now she's busy playing with surgical gloves... putting them on her feet and then tying them to her ankles and declaring them super heros. Silly kid, she's a little giddy to go home.

Thanks also for all the food: Marie, Jaylee, Sara, Crystal

Thanks also for the visits: Mom, Maggie, Crystal, Jared, Sara, Jeanette, Onnalisa

Thanks also for the books and coloring stuff: April, Crystal, Sara, Maggie

Thanks for the prayers, well wishes, emails, phone calls and comments: EVERYONE!!!

Did I forget you?! So sorry, it's been a long week...

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Kyra, a girl of few words

Me: Kyra, I'm tired. (as I lay on my bed in my pj's getting ready to go to the hospital)
Kyra: Yeah.
Me: I'm wearing my pj's to the hospital.
Kyra: OK.
Me: That's weird huh?
Kyra: Maybe.
Me: I don't care, I'm tired and I don't want to change.
Kyra: I think people will just think you're wearing shorts and shirt.
Me: Thanks.
Kyra: You're welcome.
Me: If your dad gives me a hard time about it I'm telling him you said it was OK.
Kyra: OK. (smiles and walks away)

Thanks kiddo! I love you!
I've always found it interesting that the sign for "I love You", and the sing for "airplane" are very similar. You just take the love and make it fly... (no, I don't know who this girl is, it's just a picture I found online. She does look a little like a friend's daughter who has a sister with partial hearing loss though. Interesting.)






"Jonathon Seagull spent the rest of his days alone, but he flew way out beyond the Far Cliffs. His one sorrow was not solitude, it was that other gulls refused to believe the glory of flight that awaited them; they refused to open their eyes and see. He learned more each day... What he had once hoped for the Flock, he now gained for himself alone; he learned to fly, and was not sorry for the price that he had paid. Jonathon Seagull discovered that boredom and fear and anger are the reasons that a gull's life is so short, and with these gone from his thought, he lived a long fine life indeed."
-Jonathon Livingston Seagull , Richard Bach

Friday, July 24, 2009

30 Minutes Post-Traumatic I.V. insert

It's amazing what a chocolate chip cookie for breakfast can do.
That, and a little Versed, the wonder drug.

Damn that I.V.!!!

The thing came out again and they had to put it back in a different spot. This was the cause of the initial trauma on Tuesday. Tasha knows it's going to hurt and has a screaming fit. I had to witness it and be a part of it last time. This time, however, I was able to talk her down from her anxious pleas of "I don't want it again, I don't want it again" and she walked out of her room down to the treatment room. The nurse said it was still hard, but I was grateful for her honesty and the fact that I didn't have to be a part of it. The nurses are usually pretty good about leaving the parents out of the trauma. Smart plan.

On an up note... Kenra (the super nurse to save the past 3 days!) remembered to come and get me to see the burn this time. It's better, but worse than I expected. It is much redder than it was originally, but "red and pink are good... we like red and pink. It's the white that's not so good." There are 2 small patches of white, within the red that they are working to get rid of. This is the dead skin that needs to come off so the rest of the wound can heal. From what I understand, it's the fact that it's dead, within the overall area, that is the problem. The skin is growing back from the outside and it's like having an island within preventing the healing. That's my completely lame interpretation of the event though. You won't hear terms like, 'epithelial' and 'skin bud' coming out of my mouth in any sort of knowledgeable sentence any time soon. I'd like to think I can learn it, but ya know... there's a lot going on right now and that's not really my priority. For some it might be, but me, not so much.

For those of you worried about mom and baby (you know who you are!): no Braxton Hicks contractions this morning since I didn't have to traverse through 100 degree weather, hike across a packed parking lot, through a hospital, up an elevator, and back through the 7th floor here to get to Tasha's room. I just rolled out of bed! I also forced myself to eat cold scrambled eggs and drink warm milk, blech! There is yummy chicken salad in the fridge, along with a couple of hard boiled eggs (thanks!), I had some nut clusters and chocolate chip cookies (thanks!), and I have some scruptious pulled pork waiting for me tonight (thanks!). When I realized I hadn't had much to drink I visited the holy grail of ice machines and filled up my water bottle. Oh how I love crushed ice!

Thats all for right now. I had a picture I was going to put up, but it won't let me for some reason. Maybe if I start another post it will let me. I'll give it a try because it would make many people feel more at ease, I know!

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Sweet and Sour

Sour:

We had a terrible day yesterday. We had to wait 2 hours for them to change Tasha's dressing and the whole time Tasha was on edge. Then it was discovered that her IV had come out and she needed a new one. This isn't a big deal, but by this point it was to her. It took 3 nurses and a bunch of screaming for them to get the thing in before administering a sedative and cleaning her wound. I've never felt so helpless and sad.



Semi-Sweet:



We finally got to talk with the PA about Tasha's healing. The initial wounds are healing well and it doesn't look like skin grafts will be necessary. The ones that took a while to surface are slow going and it is taking a while for the dead skin to come off. We'll be in the hospital until Monday, at least.

A friend brought me a book I'd been thinking about since this whole thing started, but it came during the above traumatic incident.

A long discussion with the nurse about medications, what I wanted to see happen in the next few days, and how we should proceed.

Sweet:

Chocolate Chip cookies and watermelon. Thanks!
Homemade dinner with real food, not from a processed factory or cafeteria. Thanks!
Giant coloring book that has some pages now adorning Tasha's room walls. Thanks!
A blessing. Thanks.
Bill getting to the hospital early in order to hear everything the PA said and asking some great questions I couldn't.
An apparently uneventful wound cleansing last night. Hoo-rah.
Cane Sugar Cream Soda, on sale at Fry's. Yum. Tastes like cotton candy.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Dear AZ Burn Center,

I've heard some not so great things about County hospital. County always has a bad rep, probably because you folks have to treat everyone. That doesn't seem fair, especially since you have some of the most qualified and dedicated doctors and nurses on staff. Here's our story:

My 5 year old daughter, Tasha fell into an extinguished fire pit while camping on Saturday. We had no idea how bad it was at the time, but it hurt her pretty bad. We stopped in Payson at the Urgent Care center where they gave her some morphine to help with the pain as we drove down to Phoenix. We had our transfer orders from them and once we made it to your pediatric ER we were treated like VIP's. We were escorted back to the burn unit by a very nice young man, and you took us in quickly. Maybe it was good timing, but we certainly appreciated the attention your nurses gave us that day.

Since the morphine was still in affect when we came in, your nurse was quick to act. She took off the bandage they had put on in Payson and we were all surprised at how the burns had gotten worse. There were some HUGE blisters that she popped quickly. It was quite shocking to both myself and Tasha as she popped and peeled skin back. I think if either of us had realized what was going to happen we would have freaked out, big time! She wrapped up Tasha's arm quickly, but explained everything to me along the way since I would need to change it later that evening and the next morning. Our confidence in the nurse was greater than the intern doctor that kept looking to her for advice. It was silly too, he had written a prescription for pills and the nurse had to suggest that maybe a liquid would be better. Well, DUH!

Tasha did great the rest of the day and even wanted to go to church on Sunday. After church we had some lunch and gave her some of the Tylenol with Codeine, as instructed, so that when we came in it wouldn't hurt very much. My husband, Bill, took her down that evening and you all were still expressing some concern about the degree of the burns. Clearly, some were second degree, and one spot was possibly even a third degree burn. (That is still yet to be determined) It was a good thing that Bill took her down because I would not have handled the next news very well. It was suggested that maybe she should be admitted so that you could control the pain better while you thoroughly cleansed the wound to keep out infection. It was also brought forward that a skin graft (which means surgery!) might be necessary. Hearing about staying overnight at the hospital from my daughter was much easier for me to take than it would have been coming from your nurse. I'm grateful my husband was there that night.

Both my husband and I slept on this news and tried to prepare ourselves for the worst as we brought her down on Monday morning. It was a long wait once we got there as there were several people in front of us. As we sat in the waiting room, I watched the people in scrubs entering and exiting the secured doors. I was looking for the right person to ask how long this would take because I feared that after 3 hours, the Codeine might wear off. I found her. It was Sergeant Cabral who is here for 2 weeks on her reserve duty from Georgia. She was young, sweet, and came right back when she found out it would be about 20 minutes longer. She also came and got us when it was time and stayed with Tasha during some of the waiting. Even though we knew we might have to stay once we got to the hospital, I didn't pack a bag because Tasha was really dead set against staying the night. That changed, however, as we went through the cleansing process again. It hurt her. It hurt bad. The nurse was so patient and let Tasha take the bandage off and even let her try to clean some of the spots herself. It just really needed more scrubbing and nobody wanted to put Tasha through that. She was very anxious about the whole thing, even putting the bandage back on which she knew would make it feel better.

The doctor came in and looked at the burns as Tasha clung to me in silent tears. She was ready to convince us that staying would be a good idea, but at that point we had decided that it was really the only way she would heal. We just wanted the specifics and a possible estimation of how long. We're working on our second night here, and are hoping to make it only one more night. The team of doctors and nurses will be talking tomorrow and we'll find out more then.

I just wanted to say that you have some really exception staff here at County. Donileene and Lynn really know how to make kids feel better by doing the simple things. Just cut off the tape that is sticking out and the bandage is now not bothering her anymore. Flush the blood out of the IV tube and all is better. It sounds simple enough, but these were things that the other nurses would not even consider because they just would say there was nothing they could do without even talking to Tasha about it. Thank you, sweet nurses, for listening to her and comforting her in every way possible. Even John, who delivered her some food, was great. He talked to her like she was a person. It was important for her to know that she still exists as a human being and not just an object to be fed, poked, and prodded for vital signs and dead skin. Thanks to John also for walking her down to the (semi-lame) play center when the other nurse forgot about her or was busy with another patient. I don't think it was really in his job description, but he was willing and able.

We have no regrets about checking into your facility here. The room accomodations have been great. I'm sure it's because we're in the Pediatric Burn Center, but we've got it pretty good. Tasha has her own room, TV, VCR, and DVD player. We also have internet access which helps because we have our own laptop that Tasha can play pbskids.org and I can check email. There have been a few connection issues, on occassion, but it's worked out pretty well for the most part. We've accidentally hit the nurse's call button at least a dozen times, and the nurses have been very nice about it. We were greeted by a sweet lady that brought Tasha several things to play with, a beautiful quilt, and a doll to keep her company. Overall, I can't complain about our stay so far.

I spent the night last night and didn't get much rest, so my mom will be staying with Tasha tonight. Tasha slept fine all night long, even when the nurses had to check her vitals at midnight and 4 am. I know I won't be missed, since she was snoozing heavily the whole time. In fact, we're still waiting for the dressing change this evening and it's nearly 9pm. I imagine Tasha will be out until at least 10am tomorrow. This is going to really mess with her sleeping schedule, but if it helps her avoid surgery then we're very grateful.

Thanks for your help thus far. We hope the end is in near site.

Fondly,

The D's

Sunday, July 19, 2009

The Stage of My Mind

I was reading an article in the Ensign this evening and found a quote that really made me think. That's not really unusual (for me to think), except that this quote (without the remainder of it) has abosolutely no bearing, whatsoever, on what the article was talking about. So, I'm not giving you the link. Here's the quote:

"The mind is like a stage. During every waking moment the curtain is up. There is always some act being performed on that stage. It may be a comedy, a tragedy, interesting or dull, good or bad; but always there is some act playing in the stage of your mind." (Boyd K. Packer, New Era, April 2008.)

For most of us, I think the "stage" could more commonly be referred to as a big box that sits in our living room or a big screen in an auditorium projecting movies. Not many of us get to the theatre these days, and even if we do, we get a lot more of our viewing from the comfort of our own homes. The whole "plug in drug" is a discussion and thought process for another time and another post though, so I'm letting that one go. My thought process on this whole "the stage of my mind" is based on what we choose to watch and enjoy as individuals. I'm wondering if what and how we choose to watch TV and movies is a reflection of how our mind stages the reality of our life. OK, that came out sounding quite a bit deeper than I envisioned. You'll be sorely disappointed when you keep reading.

I've been asked, on several occasions what kinds of movies I like. I can't pinpoint it, because it really does depend on the mood that I'm in. I have many favorite movies, and most of them have some sort of humor in them. Romantic comedies certainly fall at the top of the viewing list, followed closely by inspiring sports movies that I enjoy watching with Bill. These are the types of shows that I will re-watch, the ones that leave you with that "feel good" mood, triumphant victory, and defeating the odds. I like a good, happy ending. Sometimes it's dramatic, emotional, and unrealistic, other times it just plays out kind of naturally. Either way, I'm good.

I was trying to think about some of my favorite shows as a child, a family, a couple, etc. What did we watch and did it influence the way we thought of the rest of the world, was it an escape, was it to make us think, etc.? Do we have to relate to a particular character to enjoy a show? Are we looking for someone like us or are we hoping to find someone completely unlike our self? I know, as a teenager, I would read to escape and live a life that was completely opposite of my boring, hum drum life. I must have read The Outsiders a dozen times one summer and dreamed about being Cherry Valance. Were there any similarities between her and I? Absolutely none, outside of having red hair. The characters I like on TV are ones that I wish I could behave like, but know that I can't (usually because their morals are not completely up to par). So, I'd never preach to anyone that they shouldn't watch or like something because it doesn't conform to the standards that they should live by. And I'll keep reminding myself of that as my children get older and older.

I've never been a fan of reality television and I can only say that if I'm going to watch about real people, I'd rather it be the people I know in real life, not some crazy strangers that are overacting because they know they're on TV. I like TV to be scripted, but does that mean I'd like life to be scripted? I don't think so. I like surprises. So does that mean that I watch the opposite of what I like in real life for a break? I don't think that's the case either.

Some of my standby favorite shows are comedies: M*A*S*H*, The Cosby Show, Friends, Seinfeld. These are the reruns that I will commonly stop flipping channels for and this is where I'm comfortable. I'm not a comedian by any means, I just like to laugh at the crazy things that happen in this world and try to move on from there. I can't take life too too seriously, but can handle it when that ball is thrown my way as well. I can only remember one episode of M*A*S*H* being completely serious, but it seems like there were often times bits of real war trauma that would pop up now and again. The Cosby Show had family dynamics, real family and peer pressure issues, and childhood drama, but they did it with the air of humor. That's how I have to live my life, with an air of humor and without taking myself too seriously. I liked Friends because it wasn't about just one person, it was about a lot of people and how they supported and interacted with one another. I could never be on the center stage, the one man act. Even Seinfeld was more about the group than it was just Jerry. I'm not even sure he was the funniest person on that show, and I think he was OK with that.

I've ventured into the dramatic series as well. We used to watch West Wing, ER, Grey's Anatomy, any Law and Order series, Dallas (does anyone remember back that far?). Bill and I used to talk about how we didn't know anything about the character's real lives on West Wing, ER or Law and Order. The show was all about the politics, the medicine or the courtroom. We were very detached from the characters and not at all drawn to the shows because of ongoing drama in their lives. The characters had personalities that brought the shows to life, but they were not the center stage of the show. The other shows, however, were all about the drama and lives of the individuals and how they interacted. They were nothing more than night time soap operas. I'm not sure how/why we've enjoyed both of these types of series, but we have.

I guess I'm just wondering if you had to pick one type of stage to live your life on, would it reflect the kind of life that you want to or do lead? I'd pick romantic comedy and I think that's the kind of life I lead: not too serious, a bit of emotion, not too dramatic, and I'll live it the best way I can to make a happy ending for all the characters involved. That's just me though. This world would be very uninteresting if everyone lived on the same stage. Tell me your stage, write your own post, or call me a cracked pot for even venturing into this comparison. I don't know, I just know that when life throws you lemons...

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

For All My Crack Pot Friends!

An elderly Chinese woman had 2 pots that hung on either end of a pole that she carried across her neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walk from the stream to her house, the cracked pot would arrive only half full.

For a full 2 years this went on, with the woman bringing home only 1 and 1/2 pots of water.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of it's accomplishments.

But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of it's imperfections, and miserable that it could only do half of what it was intended to do.

After 2 years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house."

The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted some flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them.

For 2 years I have been able to pick these flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are there would not be this beauty to grace the house."

Each of us has our own unique flaw...

But it's the cracks and flaws that each of us have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding.

You've just got to take each person for who they are and look for the good in them.

To all of my crack pot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Happy Birthday, Babe!

I looked back to see what I had posted about Bill last year on his birthday. Turns out, I didn't. Good enough, that takes the pressure off, right? Well maybe, except that I used that little trick where I labeled my posts and I've made 13 birthday posts, for other people. That seems a little wrong so now I'm searching for ideas. I told Bill, over the computer that I've been ignoring him on for the last hour, that I didn't know what to write. First he said, "Happy Birthday" is enough. Then he said, "or you could write 45 ways that I rock your world." I'm choosing the latter, but I'm not sure this is what he meant by it.





45 Ways that Bill ROCKS my world






  1. He leaves his socks wherever he takes them off




  2. His shoes are big and I trip over them ALL the time




  3. He kisses the dog, on the mouth




  4. Soda. Need I say more?




  5. Receipts scattered throughout the house




  6. He really likes William Shatner and the show Boston Legal




  7. Trash on the counter, 2 feet from the garbage




  8. Recycling in the trash can




  9. Trash in the recycling can




  10. Overflowing trash can




  11. Overflowing recycling can




  12. He likes beef, a lot!




  13. Cold ravioli, straight from the can. EEEWW!




  14. Cantaloupe. Yick.




  15. He named his pancake griddle "Betty" (that's kind of cute, but...)




  16. He thinks Betty lives propped up behind the stove top instead on in the drawer.




  17. He listens to country music more than anything else now.




  18. He's got me listening to country music more than anything else now.




  19. Pillows on the floor, EVERY night




  20. Clothes by the side of his bed, EVERY night




  21. He paces when he talks on the phone




  22. Rocky




  23. Rocky II




  24. Rocky III




  25. Rocky IV




  26. Rocky V




  27. Rocky Balboa




  28. Rambo




  29. Rambo II




  30. Rambo III




  31. (How many Rambo's were there?)




  32. Groundhog Day




  33. Pretty Woman




  34. He leaves the TV on when he goes to bed




  35. The TV is inevitably on a sportscast of some sort




  36. Popsicle sticks strategically placed, NOT in the garbage




  37. He steals the fan from the living room when he goes to bed



  38. He taught and encourages the girls to burp, fart and make bodily noises of all kinds


  39. "Zoe,zoe,zoe,zoe,zoe,zoe, ZOEOEOEOEOE-EEEY!"


  40. Football watching


  41. Yelling at football playing


  42. Basketball watching


  43. Yelling at basketball playing


  44. Baseball watching (on TV)


  45. Yelling at baseball playing...


So why would I list all these things that make me crazy about Bill, on his birthday?


"Because, after a month of cataloging all his faults, I realized that none of it matters... and he sure can kiss" (name the movie!)


And let's face it, none of these are really faults. They are just the little things in life that make Bill who he is: the man I love, cherish, and adore. Happy Birthday, Babe!

Monday, July 13, 2009

SERIOUSLY!!!

How many times must a pregnant person apply deoderant before she stops sweating? Isn't twice before noon enough if I haven't even gone outside?



Seriously.



And does Tasha really have keep putting my shoes up, in the hanging shoe rack in my closet? I keep looking for them in the bottom of my closet and they are not there. Then I search the house, get frustrated and look in the closet again. Then I realize.



Seriously.



Is the kitchen island really the dumping ground for all things in the house? Receipts, coins, printouts, old playdough, old and new batteries that get mixed up so I don't really know which is which, fuzzy produce that probably wasn't fuzzy to begin with but it is now because it got buried under all these other items, cars that don't belong to us, a keyring, a chongo, vitamins, EMPTY cereal boxes, 4 empty cups...



Seriously.


Is it my fault that a fire truck was parked outside the QT that I needed to gas at this afternoon? And was it coincidence that said firetruck was manned by 4 fine lookin' men, 2 in the navy blue short gear, and 2 in fireman pants with hanging suspenders and boots? Is anyone doubting my love for firemen?

Seriously.

Why can my kids get along when I'm gone to the chiropractor, but then fight like cats and dogs when either myself or Bill is home? Bill has a theory that we should leave them alone more often so they know they can get along together and will get used to it. Somehow this theory makes sense, but sounds wrong. Very wrong.

Seriously.

It's my husbands birthday tomorrow. Do I really have to write nice, gushy things about him? We all know how great he is, right? Blah, blah, blah, he's super. 'Nuf said.

Seriously.

Tasha's Testimony

Tasha likes to sleep in. It's cute. I will walk by her room a dozen times and see her crashed in the same position and then she'll be gone. I'll look in and she has hidden herself under the covers and we all know what that means: leave me alone, I'm in denial and I don't want to get out of bed. She's five, so it's cute. In 10 years, as a teenager, it will be not so cute.

When she did decide to get up this morning she wandered into the kitchen to tell me about her dream. "Oh boy," I thought, "what craziness is she going to try to unload on me that she thinks was a dream but was really her just laying in bed thinking?" I was pleasantly surprised. She told me she had a dream that she bore her testimony at church and that she wants to do it next Sunday. I asked her what she would say...

"I'd like to bear my testimony. I know that Jesus died on the cross for us so that he could take our sins very far away. I know that we can be a family with him. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Now what was the influence of this? Was it the week in Vacation Bible School at my mom's house? Was it the number of children that bore their tesimonies in my mom's ward when we were up there? We'll never know. But do know this: if she gets up in August and I don't go with her, it's because she told me, "and I DON'T want your help."

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Catching up on blogs

In May I had computer issues.
In June I was teaching all day and recooping the other half of the day.
So far July was a bit busy with a couple of short trips.
I'm not making excuses here, but I have not been very good about reading blogs, so I'm playing catch up. If you aren't on my blogline then the chances are even slimmer that I've remembered you. My bad. There is some really great stuff out there and your lives are so fun to read about. Some of you have made some cute changes on your pages and some of you have posted A TON!
Scott, are you kidding me? 18 posts since I've read your blog? Geez, it's not election time, what's going on? I'll get to them next. You've been neglected and I'm sure there are some really good thoughts there. I will tell you now, however, that I'm skipping any economic posts.

Here's something that I did want to share with everyone: Matt posted this link to an article on laughter in marriage. It was AWESOME and sums up my every belief on why Bill and I are still happy, after 17 years. We know when to joke around and have our own little jokes and sayings. Ironically, one of them has to do with the hiccups, just like the author of this article. Is there something inherently funny about hiccups?! I think I might have to write my own post on the hysterics of marriage. Hey, if this guy can get away with it, I can too, right?

Friday, July 10, 2009

And Today? What'd ya do?

I made the bed.
I unpacked.
I showered.

Now, I'm off on a 3 hour voyage to pick up my kids. I'll watch a rowdy Bible Camp presentation with a bunch of "Praise the Lord" music, and then another 3 hour voyage home. Hoo-rah!

I might add that when I tucked my suitcase away in the bigger suitcase I had to pull out the bag that Bill had packed for his trip. He got home MONDAY!!!

Thursday, July 9, 2009

"What'd ya do today?"

This is the question Bill asked as I sat down after I got home from the temple this evening. It sounds like an innocent question in writing, but his actual tone of voice was not so much inquisitive, but accusatory. What do I mean by this? Here's the rest of the conversation:

Me: I slept in, got dressed, went to the chiropractor. I checked and responded to some emails, checked in on Flo, then called Evelyn to report in. I finally got in the shower and made it to the temple around 5 or 6, now I'm home.
(short pause as I look at him and his stupid little smirk)
Me: Why?

Bill: Well, I was just wondering what you DID do.
Me: Uh, huh. What are you insinuating?
Bill: Well...
  • You didn't do the laundry.
  • You didn't unpack.
  • You didn't make the bed.
  • You didn't do the dishes.
  • You didn't pick up the counter.
  • You didn't touch the mail.
  • You didn't vacuum the floors.
  • You didn't make dinner.

Me: I wasn't even home for dinner!

It's important to note here that my kids are at my mom's house for the day and night. I just drove into town yesterday, have one day to myself, and have to drive up and back tomorrow to get them. Yes, I should have taken full advantage of this day without children and gotten a lot done, but I didn't. I relaxed. I turned on the radio. (Not the TV, the other thing that has Bill baffled.) I had a very loose timeline of places I had to be and I didn't stress out. I think my neck/back/trap muscle are all doing better because of all this. I took care of myself today.

But what else did I do?

I peed my pants laughing with Bill as he was saying all those things that I didn't do. It was freakin' hilarious and now I really do have to do the laundry. That's twice now, in one week, that I've had to get up and leave the room because he has me laughing so hard that I can't stop unless I'm out of his presence. I know, I know, we're a bunch of freaks over here, but we know how to have a good time. And, if laughter really IS the best medicine, Bill should be feeling better by morning and my aches will have disappeared as well. Here's hopin'!