Monday, March 30, 2009
When I was a teenager I used to start "stories" all the time, I bet if I went to my grandparent's I could still find all the drafts on their old computer. It would be a tad scary, but I could if I wanted to.
So why this obsession with writing? I'm really not sure. I've always loved to read, and English was my favorite class throughout school. I enjoy it. Hence blogging. It seems like every one and their dog who blogs is a writer. Hmmmm, there must be some correlation right? I'm really not sure, but maybe!
Every once in awhile I get an idea for a book, it keeps me up all night, thinking about the characters, where the story will go, how it will end. I tell myself I'll get up and write it down and actually do it this time, but I never do. Maybe its because I know I'm not qualified and I feel silly, maybe its because I'm intimidated about publishing (HOW?!), maybe I'm just too dang lazy. I'm really not sure, but I never do it!
So this is my latest story idea, I will share it with you so it can stop haunting me, alright? You can make fun of me, or praise me (I would prefer the praise, thank you very much...) or whatever, but really I just want to get it out of my head! The background to it is this: I was at a youth fireside where the speaker was talking about the light of Christ showing in your face and BOOM the idea hit me. Here goes:
This would be the excerpt or whatever (I TOLD you I had no qualifications--SEE!) that you would read on the back of the book. Here goes for realsy this time:
Have you ever been in a large crowd, walking down the street or in an auditorium, and looking around you notice certain face stand out more than others? Not because they're looking at you, or because they look any different from anyone else around, but because there is just something that shines about them? Have you ever seen anyone like that?
I was always told I had a face that stood out in a crowd. I had gotten stopped by strangers so many times I couldn't count anymore. I was always glad I had that kind of face, and glad I knew the secret behind the face. I had something special, something I could share with others and make them stand out as well. Something amazing.
But never would I have thought I would have to hide that light if I were going to survive...
DUN DUN DUN!!! I know more of where I want this story to go, but that's just a taste of it. So what do you think? Stupid? Doesn't make any sense? Unoriginal? Lay it on me guys, I need to know! And do you ever think you should be a writer? Do you have stories waiting to be told?
Saturday, March 28, 2009
I have a crush.
A crush that is not on my husband. >uncontrollable sobbing< A crush that is fast becoming an obsession.
I have a crush on this man:
Create your own FACEinHOLE
(Oh my, isn't that hysterical!?)
We recently watched Disturbia, and I LIKE HIM. He is so cute and funny and real. I mean, obviously he's acting so thats not who he really is, but in all his movies there's this underlying attitude that I just really like. He is my newest celebrity crush and I can NOT wait for Transformer's to come out this summer! YEE HAW!!
Friday, March 27, 2009
The un-exciting part? I have NO IDEA how to make it. Even with the directions. And a sewing machine. And a program that injects how to do stuff right into your brain (like off The Matrix, yeah?). I can't do it.
But a lady at church might could, so I'm going to ask her.
But my back up is winning the one off her site, wish me luck! I'll need it because (oh, you've NEVER heard this before...) I NEVER WIN ANYTHING!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
One day, we had a fire drill. Some sort of emergency, where everyone single filed outside and just waited. I was with my best friend and another guy friend of ours, and we decided waiting outside was LAA-ame.
So we ditched class.
Oh yeah, we ditched.
We got in our guy friend's truck, and started driving--FREEEEEDOM! We didn't even know where to go or what to do, but we were driving away, away, away from the dreaded high school.
As we were driving, a guy in a little car came right up behind us fast, right up on our butt. Our friend tapped on his breaks to let him know he was too close. There were two lanes and we were in the right slow lane and the left lane was wide open, the guy was being a jerk.
He didn't like the tapping of the breaks. Not at all.
He zoomed around us and got right in front of us. We were all a little weirded out by it, but figured whatever it was over.
Not so my friends, not so. It was not over.
We got to the stop light, with crazy guy stopped in front of us, we're still on a happy high from skipping class. All of a sudden the guy gets out of his car! I swear on my life, the car raised about five inches--the guy was HUGE.
He shuffled his tree log legs over to us and muttered, "Roll the window down." in a grovelly, menacing voice. My friend rolled his window down all of two inches.
The man proceeded to scream at my friend that he was a punk and he was going to call the police and he was such a little PUNK! We were flabbergasted, and a little confused.
And then he tried to HIT my friend through the little two inch gap!!
It was the weirdest/scariest thing a total stranger has ever done to me (or with me present, I suppose)! Needless to say, we turned around and went back to school.
And I never skipped class again. Let that be a lesson to you.
(Yeah right, I still skipped class plenty of times after that, who am I kidding?!)
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Yup. Yes, it is.
MY birth day, the day of my birth. When angels sang and people cried out of shock of my pure goodliness and innocence.
It was a special day. Obviously.
So how does someone celebrate such an utterly significant day?!
Well, just like any other day for me, really.
I don't know why birthdays aren't a big deal at our house, they just aren't. And I'm okay with that. I still went to work, I still will go to church tonight, went grocery shopping earlier. Heck, I still did the dishes and folded laundry. Why do we think just because its our birthday that the whole world stops? It doesn't.
You know why we think on our birthday that the whole world should stop? Because gosh darn it, it should. We should have one day a year where things are different. Where we can relieve some of the pressure of every day life. One day a year isn't enough to celebrate the amazing people around us, to let them know today is all about you because I don't think about you enough, just you.
Maybe I should re-think the whole "birthday's aren't a big deal" thing...huh.
Now I just have to get the kids in on only thinking about me for one day, like that's EVER going to happen!
Monday, March 23, 2009
It was then, down in the kitchen of the daycare, I could hear my Oldest Daughter upstairs playing, that I discovered something. To my
You know the type.
The obnoxious ones.
The ones who think "bathroom" words are funny.
Oh yeah, thats my daughter.
It doesn't happen very often when you get to peek in on your kids when they don't know you can hear them. You really hope that when you do get that chance that they'll really impress you, that it will be one of those really proud moments.
Not so much.
Yeah, I can hear her running amuck, being loud and all of a sudden yelling "ACK! I have to go PEE PEE!! HEHEHEHEHEHE!" She didn't have to go "pee pee", she just has finally discovered that using bathroom words gets ya a good laugh. I don't know how she hasn't discovered this sooner, since saying fart is a definite laugh-getter in our house.
Gotta love six year olds.
*UPDATE ON THE NOSE FLARING: So I talked to the Young Men's Pres. yesterday at church, and they totally DID see me making faces!! :S He said his wife was all "Hey, look there's Melinda! She's been making faces at us for a while, maybe she's being funny?!" After much more face making. "Uh, what is she doing?!" More face making by me. Drive by and honk. Look of utter terror/embarassment. Oh, but we had a good laugh about it... *
Saturday, March 21, 2009
You know how it is. Sitting at a red light and your eyes kind of wander and you're just bored. Sure you could turn your music up and sing loud, but what if your baby's asleep? Sure you could get out your old cell phone and call someone, but you're spending your minutes then. So what do you do while you're waiting at a red light?
I don't know about you, but the other day I was just in this very situation.
And you know what I did?
Well, my husband has this rare talent of being able to move his nostrils back and forth. I can't do it. I want to, but I just can't. So I was at the light, waiting my turn, looking at myself in the rear view mirror and trying so hard to wiggle my nostrils.
I was just starting to sort of get it, when all of a sudden I heard a HONK! HONK!
I look over right as the Young Men's President drives by and waves at me!
Oh, for the love.
I glance back up at the mirror to see my face.
Yup, looked like an idiot.
Check another one off for the "you're a total dork" list.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Then I have days like last Sunday.
In some ways, I can be fairly shy. Once I know you and who you are, there's not much holding back. But before I know you, especially in very public situations, I don't put myself out there. Being welcoming and getting to know new people is one of the goals in improving myself.
With this goal in mind, last Sunday I saw a new girl sitting in the Young Women's room. I usually feel nervous about introducing myself to visitors (even if they are only sixteen. I'm a horrible YW Pres. I know...), so I tell my Laurel President to go welcome her. But no, I'm improving! I think to myself, It's not that hard, go over there and ask her who she is!
So I do!
She says, "I'm so and so."
"Oh! Are you visiting?!"
"Um, no. I'm one of your assistant camp directors."
Turn around and walk away like a jerk and an idiot.
I honestly felt completely mortified. In my defense, I wasn't there the Sunday the assistant camp directors were set apart. And she looks like a flippin teenager too. So I feel bad all week, thinking oh my gosh what do I say to her now?! She probably hates me! No, no, go back to her and apologize.
So I do!
"So and so, I'm so sorry! Sometimes I'm such a ditz and I totally wasn't thinking! Hopefully I can erase that first impression and you won't think badly of me!"
"Um, actually that wasn't the first time we've met."
Turn around and walk away like a jerk and an idiot.
Seriously people, I don't even know what to do anymore. Work with me here lady! At this point, I'm done trying to make up for being dumb. I've tried, and I've failed. Oh well, ball's in her court.
(Of course I'll still be pleasant and nice, I'm just not going to go out of my way to apologize again, or be extra doting on her or whatever. It is what it is.)
So what do you do when you completely shove your foot in your mouth?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
But I did want to throw something out here while I have a spare minute. Do you remember my post about the crush I had in high school/junior high? No? Jerks. Okay here it is. And then do you remember me posting about that same crush asking to be my friend on Facebook?! NO AGAIN!? Sheesh guys, come on! So anyway, to get to the point of it all, the guy was visiting the area I live in currently, and left a message on my Facebook that he was in town. And it wasn't like a wanted or did not want to see him, it was just...sort of...weird. Ya know?! I wasn't sure what it would be like to see him again. Here's how it played out in my head:
Meet at a random place, say the mall or I-HOP.
I sit in a lowly booth, or on a bench somewhere, awaiting his presence.
In walks GQ model.
I fall madly in love with him and we run away together.
Okay, if you want me to be honest, this is really how it played out in my head:
We meet at someplace random, like a mall or I-HOP.
I sit in a lowly booth, or on a bench. With my booger encrusted children squirming and yelling and crawling on the floor, eating gum off the bottom of the bench. And I have poop on my shirt from The Boy.
In walks that guy, looking and acting exactly the same way as high school.
I barf out of complete and utter intolerance of people acting like they're still in high school.
He's completely weirded out that *I* have not one, not two, but three children; but also seriously impressed that I'm still so hot. (hey, this is my brain, it could happen.)
After the first thirty seconds of "Hey, its been so long! What've you been up to?! How's life?!" and maybe "WOW! You have three kids!! That's so crazy!", we'll have nothing to say to each other and it will be awkward and weird and. . . awkward.
Anyway, really, when he said he would be in town I didn't know what to say. So I went for tactful: Oh yeah? We'll have to get together sometime while you're here.
And then never said anything or tried at all to get in contact with him while he was here.
Do you think that's wrong? Do you think I was so immature about it? Do you, do you, do you!?!
Well, he obviously did because he hasn't talked to me since. Not even when I said sorry I missed getting together with him. Looks like its all back to high school once again. And you know what?
I didn't like high school the first time. Pooey.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
What is it that we did then?
Well, in a very informed and definitely trying to help stimulate the economy (we solely based our decision on helping the economy don't ya know.) we...bought...
...A FREAKING HUGE TELEVISION!
AAGGHHHH! I KNOW!
We've had the same 27" TV since the day we got married. Its been good to us, we still love it and all, its just that its gotten some rough usage the last couple years. Like the day Oldest Daughter had been watching TV all day and wouldn't get anything done. After yelling at her a few times (over my shoulder from at the computer...you know, I just don't know where she gets her TV fetish from...it's just so odd...) I finally told her she wasn't going to be able to watch TV anymore if she didn't turn it off and get done whatever it was I was asking her (probably something like, "GET ME A MOUNTAIN DEW NOW!!''). In a fit of dramatics, she ran to the poor television and slammed the power button. Resulting in a sort of wonky lopsided power button that we now deal with. Plus its starting to get the lines through it. Really we could make due with the teeny tiny itty bitty wittle TV we have, but I gotta be honest with you. It's the Husband. He HAS to have it! He'll stop at nothing until he has his way!
So we got the stupid humongo TV. Its sitting in its stupid humongo box in my kitchen right now. Its humongo box, in my infinitesimal kitchen. I can't cook, I can't heat things in the microwave, do the dishes, walk around, without moving the stupid huge box.
But of course thats not the worst part of it, oh no, of course not! Its the price, man! Gee whiz and we got a "good deal" and it was still getting close to a thousand dollars! I have to say this is by FAR the largest purchase of cash we've ever made. BY FAR.
Hence the sick feeling.
But hey, Husband's happy. And he'll be happy watching his ginormous television in old underwear eating top ramen sitting on the floor, because we'll have no money for anything else ever again. Jerk.
But to end this on a good note, the only thing keeping the sick feeling away is The Boy. He started walking this week! So much fun (did I mention this before? I can't remember, I've told it so many times now...) and I'm going to post the proof for you!
Just don't look at my face, I look slightly crazed and insane, plus my underwear's hanging out the back. Sorry about that. But he's WaLkInG!! Yippee!
Oh and before I forget, I wanted to add this just for Heidi over at Dunhaven Place (I would link to ya Heidi, but I'm feeling pretty lazy right now, sorry.) because she recommended this movie. Well, did you actually recommend it? Maybe you just talked about it. I don't remember now. But anyway, the movie was The Dutchess, and really is quite interesting, very emotional too; I cried like a baby at the end there, well you know what part right Heidi? I was wondering though if you felt this same way Heidi, just wanted your opinion about a certain aspect of it. Do you think they really explored the whole six* angle? I don't think they touched on it nearly enough, it wasn't very clear or anything about what was going on. Do you think they were having six at all? Man, I just couldn't get over how little six there was!!! (please note the sarcasm.) :)
(*Oh wait, I put the s. e. x. word in there, now I'm going to have to change it before I get all the freaky weird people here...um, I replaced it with the word six alrighty?)
Talk at ya'll latah!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Did you ever have to ride the school bus? That in itself should be embarrassing enough, but NO, it gets way better from here!
How about having to ride the bus in HIGH SCHOOL?! How about that? Do you think THAT is embarrassing enough?
How about when you're in high school, you have a swimming class (which I will have to talk about more another time...), which is your last period of the day, so you have to shower and change and all that and RUN for the bus so it doesn't leave you behind? With your hair dripping wet and smelling like chlorine?
STILL not enough?
Okay, how about one day, you're rushing for the bus after said swimming class, its about to leave! Oh no! Start bookin it--as in sprinting with your wet hair streaming behind you, backpack bouncing on your back--toward the bus. You see it. You're running.
Can't. Miss. That. Bus!
You get there just before it pulls away, oh sweet relief!
Simultaneously as your foot touches the bottom step, the bus door starts to close...
You are stuck in the bus door. Half of your body is outside the bus, still stranded out there in purgatory. The other half, including your head, is INSIDE the bus. Not a pretty sight really.
The bus driver is shocked and inhales sharply, "OH!" and finally opens the door back up to let you inside the hell hole. You take the three steps up into the main frame of the bus and see Super Hott Guy sitting right in the front seat laughing hysterically at you.
Take the walk of shame to the back of the bus, hanging head.
Insist to your parents, you WILL be starting driver's ed. right away!
So whats your most embarrassing story?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
In other news, The Boy is starting to walk! At a week from turning 10 months he's taking steps all by himself! Very exciting! And I just love that unsteady, just learning how to, old man walk--so endearing!
Other good news? I ate a french dip sandwich for lunch and managed not to spill a single drop...uh, on my shirt. Other places were dripped on, but not my shirt! HA! You can't beat me au jus, no matter how good you taste!
It snowed here yesterday, or was it Monday? Ah yes, Monday. Just thought I'd share. (I am seriously tired of winter, please Spring won't you come and stay awhile?)
I have some sort of meeting or appointment or something for every single night this week. With my calling this happens sometimes, what can you do? I'll tell you what, NOTHING. You can't do anything! Unless you go on some sort of strike and picket outside the Bishop's house, I suppose you could do that, but seriously it snowed the other day! Brrrrrr!
Alright, randomness out. Peace. Word to your mother and some such nonsense.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Really, you will try? Good. I feel so much better!
What I want to talk about is Stay At Home Moms. Touchy, I know. I really do know because for five years I was a stay at home mom. Up until last year I was at home with my kids, and so no one can tell me I don't know what its like to be at home raising my kids. Even now, I don't think my job makes things much different, I work part time teaching preschool at a daycare. I'm home by noon most days, my kids are at the daycare with me so if there's any sort of problems I can take care of it myself--no one else.
But last year before my son was born, I worked full time at the daycare for quite a few months and honestly it was really hard work! So you can see, I've been on both sides of my topic. I've been a working mom and a stay at home mom, so obviously my opinion is logical and informed and I know everything. Na Na nana NA!
When I've observed ladies talking and attitudes exhibited on this subject (of being a SAHM or a WM--that's working mom, yo.) I've noticed a little trend. There is a small group of moms who sort of make me a wee bit upset. These certain kind of SAHM's think that they are better than the WM's. They frown upon the woman who has to go out of her home to work. I ran across a blog awhile back that said she was crafting and her working friend called and asked her what she was doing, she was so put off by it and said something to the effect that her friend would NOT be able to understand because she works. WHAT?! So because I work, I don't remember how to craft anymore?! I'm shocked, I wish someone had let me know that before I started working! NOOOOoooooooooo!!
In my experience, when I was a SAHM I was seriously lazy--if I'm really being honest with myself. It was like the day was always there, I had any time of day to do what I needed to do, so I was disorganized and well, like I said, lazy. Maybe not everyone is like me, and really, good for you. But when I went back to work, all of a sudden I didn't have my whole day before me. A lot of my time was spent gone at my job. So then I came home and still had to get done all the things I did before, and still raise my kids and anything else I wanted to do. When I went back to work, I became MORE organized, I did MORE crafting, I got MORE done than before. I appreciated my time MORE.
What this post is really about though? We are ALL moms. We truly need each other's support. Instead of tearing one another down, we should be unified and help each other up. I hate the segregation of SAHM and WM, we should become SAHOWMA (that's Stay At Home OR Working Mom's Anonymous, fo shizzle)! A place where we can come together and work past the stereotypes! A place where we can share mom stories, and not care whether you work or not! A place where there is no one mom that's better than another! Doesn't that just sound so ideal? Or AWESOME?!
Well, it does to me.
And I'm the best mom ever, so you should listen to me.
(Oh, if you want to know the blog I was talking about, just ask, I'd be happy to throw her under the bus--Oooooh she burns me up! Just kidding guys, kidding!)
Monday, March 9, 2009
I've Got the No-Sleep-Kids-Keep-Barfing-and-Excreting-Fecal-Matter-All-Over-the-Place-I-Want-to-Die BLUES!
I gotta be honest with you guys. I sort of want to die right now. Okay not really, but COME ON!
Since last Thursday night Middle Child has had the sickness. The worst kind of sickness: the barfing and the diarrhea. OH FOR THE LOVE, I can't take much more. We've gone through every pair of underwear, I have so much laundry to still do, and the kid crapped on my foot. ON. MY. FOOT.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Husband finally got the great idea to put her in a diaper. Because get this people, she will "go" in her underwear and KEEP SLEEPING. Who does that?! How do you not wake up for that?!
And the barfing. OHHH the barfing!
Let me share my stance on barfing. When I was a kid, it was a rare exception that I would actually let myself hurl. I would do ANYTHING not to let it go, I didn't care how terrible I felt, barfing HURT and I did NOT want to do it. Even pregnant, with all four pregnancies (I had a miscarriage thank you for bringing that up. Sheesh.) I've only thrown up maybe four or five times--TOTAL. I HATE IT SO MUCH.
So heaven had to give me weak stomached children. Pay back. I don't know what for, but that's all I can think of right now going on no sleep whatsoever.
My oldest has a food allergy. Food allergies make for weak stomachs, because if that bad food gets in there its the stomach's job to stop it from getting in the body, so it pushes it back out. Yesterday after church, one of my sweet Young Women offered Oldest a candy. Which she greedily and speedily shoved in her mouth, except that it had peanuts in it. I made her spit it out and get a drink to rinse her mouth out. She never swallowed any of it, but I'm sure it truly did irritate. The thing about Oldest (and I have NO idea where she gets this from) is she's quite the dramatic. So she worked herself up and barfed right there in the Bishop's office. AWESOME. Well, she barfed into my hand, which was in the Bishop's office.
Middle Child I don't even know whats wrong with. We thought she must just have a 24 hour bug, because it went away after 24 hours. But now its back with a vengeance. All last night people, ALL NIGHT LONG. With the barfing and the pooping. Lovely no?
There I go with the French thing again.
And now because I'm so exhausted and tired, I've written this (horrible) great post for the point in spreading the joy. Rack it up ladies, share your most horrible kid's sickness day. Let's commiserate together. (Although you don't necessarily have a kid's sickness to commiserate, so share whatever you're feeling blue about, if you so please.) And if you're feeling chipper and happy and great? Well, you can just go to a fiery hot place I don't wish to mention. (I know, I'm awful when I'm cranky!)
We're spending the day in pajamas and watching movies. That's it. While I clean up the ick. Sounds so glorious no?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
When I was young and impressionable, I was a VERY picky eater. VERY. I didn't like a lot of food and I was super dramatic if my parents tried to force me to eat something. Or super stubborn, I'm not sure which. Well, how about both? Yes, that works.
I would sit at the table bawling. They would tell me I couldn't get up until I finished my plate. I would sit there for a veeeeerrrry long time. Maybe fall asleep. Cry some more. Would NOT finish my plate. And so it went for many a year.
One of my mom's favorite dinner's to make--that NO ONE in our family liked except my parents--was sweet 'n sour meatballs. *GAG* I still can't think about them without retching a little. They were so nasty. Eeew sicko! *whoo whoo...in....out....deep breaths*
It was meatballs (duh), on a bed of rice, with a big ol' slice of pineapple under them and some secret gonna-make-you-hurl sweet 'n sour sauce. Sounds delish huh? NOT AT ALL.
Anyway, one night my mom made the dreaded "food" and I wasn't having none of it. But she had places to go and things to do, things I ALSO wanted to do. She told me if I didn't finish eating I wasn't going to go with her to wherever it was we were supposed to go. Maybe I didn't think she would actually do it. Maybe that was the stubborn part of me. But when it came time for her to go, I still hadn't eaten anything. So she went out, got in the car and started driving away.
I shoved the stupid meatballs in my mouth and ran outside, gagging and crying and screaming and gagging...after her. Maybe that was the dramatic part of me. She stopped, rolled her eyes, and then let me get in.
Funny mom, don't you know when we get older our taste buds MUST change and then all of a sudden we will actually try to eat normally? Silly mom, don't you know that kids are NOT reasonable on any level? Silly kid, don't you know mom's will ALWAYS try to make you eat dinner? Dumb child, don't you know she was helping you grow?!
Things worked out in the end though, she can make sweet 'n sour meatballs any time she wants, and I now will in no way ever have to eat them again! Amen.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
A is for your age: 26 I think.....(I have a hard time remembering how old I am, because I care so little about it...)
B is for your burger of choice: cheeseburger, but I don't really care for burgers that much.
C is for the car that you drive: Chrysler Town & Country (mini van baby! LOVE IT! We have a DVD player, so no mocking the mini van.)
D is for dog's name: I don't have a dog, but the dog I grew up with's name was Belle--best dog EVER!
E is for an essential item you use each day: computer--DUH! ;)
F is for your favorite television show: The Office
G is for favorite game: Guitar Hero, oh and Heads Up Seven Up
H is for hometown: Tacoma, WA
I is for instruments played: Piano and French Horn
J is for favorite juice: mountain dew (I've been told its the nector of the Gods', hence its a juice)
K is for what you'd like to kick: as in a person? Or a habit? Well, neither really...
L is for last restaurant you dined at: Chili's
M is for your favorite Muppet: Animal, he's so crazy!
N is for number of piercings you have: one in each ear (I'm so innocent...)
O is for overnight hospital stays: 4 I think.
P is for people you were with today: My kids, the people at work.
Q is for what you do in quiet times: Read, blog, blog, BLOG! hehe
R is for regrets: I don't have regrets, not really. Except for not being rich. I regret that a lot.
S is for status: married. Oh, and rich, super rich. Upper class. Yeah...
T is for time you woke up today: 8:30 AM (I slept in. I wish I'd been in a coma though)
U is for what you consider unique: someone who can be themselves and not care what other people think--I REALLY like those kinds of people!
V is for favorite vegetable: carrots
W is for your worst habit: being lazy and that whole rich thing...
X is for x-rays you have had: just one (I've never broken anything) and then at the dentist?
Y is for yummy food you ate today: candy and mountain dew = YUMMY. :)
Z is for zodiac sign: Aries, when the sun and the stars align, I have super powers. Do YOU?
You can do this if you feel so inclined, but based on how you reacted to my last tag, I'm assuming thats a NO. :)
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Truly, I was. I was really hyper and giggly and loud and dorky. Well, at least around my friends and their families. (There were times where in classes if I felt insecure or didn't have any friends, that I was very shy and quiet) But for the most part: a loud, obnoxious dork.
Some of the things I did as an annoying teenager?
Thinking how I was acting was REALLY SUPER COOL, when in fact it was REALLY SUPER ANNOYING!
For example, going to Target and running up and down the aisles laughing maniacally, playing with the toys and being generally obnoxious.
Going to the prom dress stores and trying on like twenty different dresses, wasn't ever going to buy one, but we felt pretty.
Toilet papering our friends' houses. This one time we went to a grocery store beforehand to buy toilet paper and whatnot, and talked in British accents the entire time (thinking we were AWESOME) and sat in the grocery carts and pushed each other around. *shudder*
I could go on, but I'm internally cringing over my naivety enough to make me sick. Besides the fact that I just drank 24 oz of Mountain Dew, that might be making me sick as well. And my son is sitting next to me with a poopy diaper, I think that's getting to me too.
(alright, I took a little break and changed the diaper, I know, I'm such a good mom...)
The thing I feel even worse about than how stupid I acted? I have no tolerance for stupid teenagers. Well, I have very little tolerance for stupid teenagers. I catch you walking around talking in a fake accent, you get the dirty look from me and an eye roll. Some guy was using his grocery cart like a scooter today--wheeeeeee!-- and just about ran over one of my kids, you should've seen how terrified he looked of me after he saw my face. And I'm not very intimidating normally.
Girls being really loud and laughing hysterically = my blood boiling.
What a hypocrite I am.
I can't help it though, they're so obnoxious! I didn't come to horrible Wal-Mart to have to deal with someone else's dumb teenagers, and where are their parents anyway?! The worst is at the dollar theater. Oh how I loathe the dollar theater. Teenage kids run rampant there and if I have to hear them laughing and clapping in the middle of my movie and they always say the stupidest stuff......alright, I'm working myself up now. I've got to stop.
Really, the irony in this? More than you know I'm going to have obnoxious teenagers myself? I work in Young Women's....and I LOVE IT! haha
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
After having two girls, I thought boys couldn't be all that different, but no; they ARE different. I noticed from the first day he was born, that boys are not like girls. By the way they smell, the way they eat, the way they look. Different.
I want to share with you some of the things about The Boy I love.
I LOVE when we're laying in bed and he's laughing and smiling and we're playing peek-a-boo or something that all of a sudden the smile will leave his face and its like his mouth is being forced toward my skin by some unseen lazerbeam, and he just HAS to suck on my arm or my cheek or whatever--like he has no control over it whatsoever.
I LOVE that he loves to eat, my girls are fairly petite but I adore chubby babies and my son has rolls like my girls never had! LOVE it!
I LOVE when I've rocked him to sleep and after awhile I adjust my arms and he momentarily wakes up, looks up to my face, smiles the most angelic smile, and then his eyes roll back in his head. It makes me all tingly inside.
I LOVE that he is such a rocker. He has always liked to bounce, move, rock back and forth, since the time he was born. We'd put him in his bouncy seat and it was automatic, his right leg would start to kick to make the seat move--so cute! And now that he can crawl and stand up, he's always shaking his groove thang, he's got such a cool personality!
I LOVE that he loves to feel skin. Every once in awhile if my shirt isn't all the way down after nursing, he'll find my belly button and just pick at it. While that may sound disgusting, his face is so full of curiosity and humor that it just cracks me up! And his new found interest? My cleavage. There's a true boy for ya right there. ;)
One of the things I love most about The Boy is his eyes. There is something in his eyes that makes me feel like he is an old soul. Like he understands far more than he should. Mischief in those eyes, and it just makes me love him all the more!
It was a long road to get this boy and we are absolutely enamored with him and so thankful he's ours.
And right now he's all curled up in my lap and I can't help but kiss his sweet little bald head as many times as possible because I just know, the time will be gone far too soon!
Monday, March 2, 2009
My parents are awesome, maybe we have that in common. My parents were--I would say--fairly strict, maybe we don't have that in common, maybe so. My parents are dorks, who knows about yours?
One thing my parents maybe needed to work on though? Embarrassment.
What do you mean sweet Melinda? Well, if something was embarrassing we didn't talk about it. Peeing your pants? No talky. You deal with it, on your own. And I did. :)
Maybe that makes me a stronger person, maybe not? Maybe it taught me how to rely on my own strengths, maybe it made me scared to deal with things? I'm pretty normal (HA, ha ha ha! Shut up.) so I don't hold anything against my parents. I know they were doing the VERY best they could, so I can't be upset with them. But sometimes I wish I could have asked them SOME things. Or been able to talk to them about some concerns I had.
I tried to once you know, this is how it turned out.
"Mom, you know how you have spit in your mouth?"
"Do you swallow your spit like I do?" (I was only around 10, and wondered if I was the only person in the world who swallowed their spit, I was quite worried over it actually.)
"Ummm....NO, no I don't." (She was probably preoccupied by something else, or wasn't paying attention to what I was really asking, because HELLO, everyone swallows their spit!)
"Okay........" (OH MY GOSH!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!)
So I learned to keep my concerns to myself. Which is quite sad because when I was 12 I was over at an elderly neighbor's house visiting with them and a show was playing in the background. After awhile I started paying attention to it. It was about breast cancer and how to detect if you have breast cancer. It told my young 12 year old mind that if you have any lumps in your breast, you have cancer. Well, I obviously didn't have ANY sort of breasts at the age of 12, but I did have a "lump". Which would have been my nipple. I was TERRIFIED. No joke guys, not even funny, I seriously thought I had breast cancer. And I didn't tell anyone for YEARS, because I was too scared to talk to my mom or my dad or anyone else. Because that was how I was raised, you just kept things to yourself. SO glad to find out I don't have breast cancer, what a relief!
So when the time came to get a bra or to have a visit from Aunt Flo, I don't know about how you guys dealt with it, but I dealt ALONE. When I finally wanted a bra, all my friends had bras, I still didn't have breasts but I wanted a bra...do you think I asked my mom for one? HECK NO! I snuck in my older sister's room and stole one of hers. And that is how you did things in my family.
I'm realizing that this is sounding quite pathetic and maybe making my parents look bad, which wasn't my intention. Look at it this way guys, if the worst thing my parents did was not talk to me about the birds and the bees* and didn't buy me a bra, I had it pretty good. Its funny to think about now, and every things turned out just fine. I'm just going to make sure my kids won't be afraid to ask me about their spit's habits!
I was going to share with you my first period story, but I think this is sad enough, so I'll spare you. But please feel free to share the weird quirks of your parents, so I feel a tad bit better! :)
*No, we didn't have a sit down, this is what its about talk. We of course had talks about being chaste, how they expected us to act with the boys we dated, etc. But no talk specifically about you know what. In fact, on my wedding night before we went to our hotel, my mom told me: AND I QUOTE, "Don't worry honey, you don't have to do anything." Um thanks mom, but YES I DO and that doesn't help.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
So here goes:
STEP 1: Respond and rework. Answer the following questions on my blog, replacing one question that I dislike with a question of my own invention.
STEP 2: Add one more question of my own.
STEP 3: Tag eight other bloggers.
1) What is your favorite day of the week? Frimaturday.
2) What is your biggest fear? funerals or going pee.
3) What was your worst subject in school? Math definitely.
4) Who did you hug last? Husband's family goodbye.
5) What websites do you visit when you go online? Facebook--but never myspace--and my blog list mostly.
6) What was the last item that you bought? Chick-Fil-A, we ate fast food ALL week.
7) If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? I would go to Italy, Greece, Mexico, Hawaii, New York, even Vegas again, SO MANY PLACES!
8) What is your favorite book? My all-time favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird. I also ADORE the Twilight books, and Anne of Green Gables and I love the Little House on the Prairie books, I really enjoy reading, anything from blogs down to conversation hearts! ;)
9) What was the longest car ride you ever took? From Washington down to Reno, down to San Diego, back up to Washington. It was a long drive! :)
10) What was the last movie you watched? P.S. I Love You--so cute and so sad!
11) If you had a whole day to yourself with no work, commitments, or interruptions, what would you do? Since this is a magical day indeed, I'm adding no money constraints either; so I would get a big group of girlfriends together and go to a spa, get our nails done, our eyebrows waxed, and pick out hot outfits and go do karaoke or dancing or something totally fun! So awesome!
12) If you were to win the Powerball, what would you do with the money (besides invest it)? Invest it?! HA I wouldn't do that anyway....I would rid the world of man leggings.
13) In your opinion, who is the most significant person in history and why? Jesus Christ. (How could I change that Rachel?!) :)
14) If you had a choice of places to live, where would it be? Washington, or paradise! :)
15)What's an item on your property you can't live without? Well, I don't own property, but I couldn't live without my family, everything else is all replaceable. Even though I would be REALLY sad without my clothes and shoes and jewelry. :( And I'd be really sad without our urinal/humidifier.
16) What are your hopes and dreams? To just always continue to improve, always work on being better, and that my kids will be happy and live good lives. :) Oh, and to be blog famous.
So now I'm tagging:
Anyone who wants to do it! :)
my sister. Kristie, do it or you're dead to me.
(Oh Rachel, sorry I didn't follow the rules very well, I didn't delete a question--I liked them all just fine--and I didn't tag eight other bloggers. I'm a rebel like that. Oooh, living on the edge! But of course apologetic about it. Thats why I'm passive aggressive <-----see #5)