Yes, I live in the reddest county in Utah, if not the whole blasted USA. For many in my neighborhood, they've forgotten that we live in a democracy. That means, all you lovers of the constitution and American values and patriotism, that I don't have to VOTE HOW YOU VOTE. I can vote how I want, and you can't do a thing about it. I wouldn't think of trying to change your mindset, and I certianly would never rip down your McCain signs.
Immature!
Yes, it's really cute to pull down my Obama/Biden lawn sign. Tee hee hee. You are so funny. What? You can't believe someone in your neighborhood who shares your religious values, does NOT share your political values? Or are you wondering do I really share your religious values? Am I going to corrupt your children at church with my liberal ideas? You can think whatever you think.
Remember when they read that statement at church two weeks ago about how political affilitation is a PERSONAL CHOICE and that our religion does NOT ENDORSE ANY SPECIFIC PARTY? Hmmmm..
I can't wait for this election to be over. I'm sick of feeling like a freak show at the circus because of my political choices.
Grow up people.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
In Anticipation of my Five-Day Weekend
Now that I have a five-day weekend ahead of me, I can write a bit. That's right, I have off Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday! I am thrilled. And best of all, my birthday is tomorrow. Wasn't it sweet of the Alpine School District to give me my birthday off? I thought so.
I think I'll take the kids to Gardner Village tomorrow to see the witches. I've been wanting to go the past two weekends but it's been raining cats and dogs. Tomorrow is supposed to be glorious.
Today was a crazy day at school. Don't ask me how autistic kids know it's a three-day week instead of a five-day week, and so they need to fall apart on the last day of the three day week---but do they ever! It was a circus.
There was a lot of whining about not wanting to do spelling, PE and everything else. One boy cried for Mommy off and on. Some even broke down in tears over the fact that they didn't want to go to PE, and how mean the PE teacher is. One kid spent most of the day lying on the floor, refusing to get up and untying his shoes the minute I tied them. He found my marker hiding place, and now I've got to find of new one. He refused to go to the bathroom and then had an accident right before lunch, and when we tried to get him to go change instead of get in line for lunch, he pitched a fit, thinking he would have to miss lunch. So he went to lunch in a very bad way, and sicked us all out.
Toward the end of the day I didn't care if he was lying on the floor, if his shoes were untied or if he stole all my markers. I just wanted him to go home to his poor mother who has probably gone completely gray and senile because of him.
We had head bumps, pushing, slamming doors, throwing blocks and screaming and swearing, among other lovely situations. We had ketchup everywhere after lunch and filthy hands from playing with the rubber on the playground. We had to run extra laps because of not listening. Oh yeah, one kid got his head stuck in the back of a chair and we had to figure out how to get him out. He also refused to do his spelling, and missed recess because of it.
This is real life baby!
Some good things happened, too. I got some chocolates for my birthday. I got to check out a brand new book from the school library. I got to visit with some nice teachers during lunch. I got to pay $200 for a new retainer for Sammie. Oh wait, that's not on the good list. But it still happened. Yep, Sammie stepped on her retainer, and no amount of super glue could undo the damage. Way to go Sam! Oh, and Merry Christmas, too!
In other bad news, my cell phone went through the wash and is not very happy about it at all. It thinks every call is a roaming call, and is continually in "searching for service" mode. I will not mention how many of my other cell phones this has happened to because it speaks very poorly of my ability to care properly for them. And other things, unfortunately.
I think I'll take the kids to Gardner Village tomorrow to see the witches. I've been wanting to go the past two weekends but it's been raining cats and dogs. Tomorrow is supposed to be glorious.
Today was a crazy day at school. Don't ask me how autistic kids know it's a three-day week instead of a five-day week, and so they need to fall apart on the last day of the three day week---but do they ever! It was a circus.
There was a lot of whining about not wanting to do spelling, PE and everything else. One boy cried for Mommy off and on. Some even broke down in tears over the fact that they didn't want to go to PE, and how mean the PE teacher is. One kid spent most of the day lying on the floor, refusing to get up and untying his shoes the minute I tied them. He found my marker hiding place, and now I've got to find of new one. He refused to go to the bathroom and then had an accident right before lunch, and when we tried to get him to go change instead of get in line for lunch, he pitched a fit, thinking he would have to miss lunch. So he went to lunch in a very bad way, and sicked us all out.
Toward the end of the day I didn't care if he was lying on the floor, if his shoes were untied or if he stole all my markers. I just wanted him to go home to his poor mother who has probably gone completely gray and senile because of him.
We had head bumps, pushing, slamming doors, throwing blocks and screaming and swearing, among other lovely situations. We had ketchup everywhere after lunch and filthy hands from playing with the rubber on the playground. We had to run extra laps because of not listening. Oh yeah, one kid got his head stuck in the back of a chair and we had to figure out how to get him out. He also refused to do his spelling, and missed recess because of it.
This is real life baby!
Some good things happened, too. I got some chocolates for my birthday. I got to check out a brand new book from the school library. I got to visit with some nice teachers during lunch. I got to pay $200 for a new retainer for Sammie. Oh wait, that's not on the good list. But it still happened. Yep, Sammie stepped on her retainer, and no amount of super glue could undo the damage. Way to go Sam! Oh, and Merry Christmas, too!
In other bad news, my cell phone went through the wash and is not very happy about it at all. It thinks every call is a roaming call, and is continually in "searching for service" mode. I will not mention how many of my other cell phones this has happened to because it speaks very poorly of my ability to care properly for them. And other things, unfortunately.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
A Month of Stuff
It's pathetic that I'm now blogging once a month. My life has changed so dramatically. I'm not sure if I like that I never sit down to blog anymore. I feel like a lot of my life is going unrecorded, and I definitely feel a void. Plus, I know the masses out there are SOOOO upset!
All in all, life is going well. My job is good and I am enjoying the great kids and teachers I get to work with every day. We now have a girl in our class with cerebral palsy and autism. She is in a wheelchair. It has been a challenge to get used to how to care for her.
Fall is beautiful and warm. We've had a string of drop-dead gorgeous days; one couldn't ask for better weather. I keep thinking it's going to end, but it doesn't. Each day competes with the next for most beautiful. I love fall.
Adrienne got asked to homecoming last weekend, by a guy she's been friends with for years. Now we begin the process of dress shopping, something I'm told could take weeks by friends who have done it before. Apparently finding the right dress for homecoming is akin to finding the right wedding dress. When I went to school dances in the 80s, I just put on one of my church dresses or bought a new church dress. We never wore formals and now I know why. Sheesh! Good thing I'm raking in the big bucks these days working for the Alpine School District! Whew!
I am disgusted at corporate CEOs who are profiting from the huge financial crisis. I am disgusted with their greed and lack of accountability. I am disgusted that my children will inherit the mess fueled by their greed and selfishness. I don't think anyone in government knows what to do about it, really. Not McCain, not Obama, and definitely not Sarah Palin, who probably thinks she can put on lipstick and kiss it all better with her pit bull/beauty queen lips.
Just a bit about Sarah Palin. She scares me in ways that I can't express. But here goes! With all her talk about family values, what she has done to her family in the last month is deplorable. She has hidden a pregnancy, hidden from her children that it would be a down syndrome baby, brought her pregnant teenage daughter into the media's unforgiving limelight, all while claiming that they are one big happy family!
A woman who would put her family under a microscope to try to assume a job that she is woefully unprepared for . . . I don't get that. Why would anybody do that to themselves? Why would anyone do that to their children? Why did John McCain ask her to be his running mate? Why did she say she didn't even hesitate to say yes when he asked her? She didn't even think? That is increasingly obvious. She can never undo the consequences of her decision NOT TO THINK! AUGH!!!!!
I get to go out with Mom and Lisa tonight. I'm excited.
We have an awesome new grocery store in town. I am thrilled. It is full of people who never shop at Wal-Mart. That is why I love it. There are no crabby mothers pushing around screaming kids yelling, "I told you I'd smack you if you didn't shut up!" and then whacking their kid. Not one is sight. Aren't I a snob? It's called Sunflower Farmer's Market. The reason I love it is because when I shop there I feel like I'm in Seattle or Virginia or some other cool place besides Utah. Any place that makes me feel cool in Utah, I like.
Darren and I saw Hale Center Theater's production of Aida last night. It was fantastic. We loved it. We are thinking about buying season tickets. It is lovely to be able to go out to the theater on the weekends! It's been many years since that's happened.
All in all, life is going well. My job is good and I am enjoying the great kids and teachers I get to work with every day. We now have a girl in our class with cerebral palsy and autism. She is in a wheelchair. It has been a challenge to get used to how to care for her.
Fall is beautiful and warm. We've had a string of drop-dead gorgeous days; one couldn't ask for better weather. I keep thinking it's going to end, but it doesn't. Each day competes with the next for most beautiful. I love fall.
Adrienne got asked to homecoming last weekend, by a guy she's been friends with for years. Now we begin the process of dress shopping, something I'm told could take weeks by friends who have done it before. Apparently finding the right dress for homecoming is akin to finding the right wedding dress. When I went to school dances in the 80s, I just put on one of my church dresses or bought a new church dress. We never wore formals and now I know why. Sheesh! Good thing I'm raking in the big bucks these days working for the Alpine School District! Whew!
I am disgusted at corporate CEOs who are profiting from the huge financial crisis. I am disgusted with their greed and lack of accountability. I am disgusted that my children will inherit the mess fueled by their greed and selfishness. I don't think anyone in government knows what to do about it, really. Not McCain, not Obama, and definitely not Sarah Palin, who probably thinks she can put on lipstick and kiss it all better with her pit bull/beauty queen lips.
Just a bit about Sarah Palin. She scares me in ways that I can't express. But here goes! With all her talk about family values, what she has done to her family in the last month is deplorable. She has hidden a pregnancy, hidden from her children that it would be a down syndrome baby, brought her pregnant teenage daughter into the media's unforgiving limelight, all while claiming that they are one big happy family!
A woman who would put her family under a microscope to try to assume a job that she is woefully unprepared for . . . I don't get that. Why would anybody do that to themselves? Why would anyone do that to their children? Why did John McCain ask her to be his running mate? Why did she say she didn't even hesitate to say yes when he asked her? She didn't even think? That is increasingly obvious. She can never undo the consequences of her decision NOT TO THINK! AUGH!!!!!
I get to go out with Mom and Lisa tonight. I'm excited.
We have an awesome new grocery store in town. I am thrilled. It is full of people who never shop at Wal-Mart. That is why I love it. There are no crabby mothers pushing around screaming kids yelling, "I told you I'd smack you if you didn't shut up!" and then whacking their kid. Not one is sight. Aren't I a snob? It's called Sunflower Farmer's Market. The reason I love it is because when I shop there I feel like I'm in Seattle or Virginia or some other cool place besides Utah. Any place that makes me feel cool in Utah, I like.
Darren and I saw Hale Center Theater's production of Aida last night. It was fantastic. We loved it. We are thinking about buying season tickets. It is lovely to be able to go out to the theater on the weekends! It's been many years since that's happened.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The Steady Humming of Little (or not so) Mouths
Life has changed drastically for me over the past 10 days. I am happy to say that I like the changes, I like the pace, and I'm not slowly going insane like I thought I would being the "para educator aide" in an autistic class full of 7-9 year olds. But the first five days however, all I could think was "What have I done, what have I done?" I didn't necessarily want to undo it, but I wasn't sure I wanted to keep on doing it.
Along about Wednesday of last week Darren said, "So, I'm worried about you. You don't like this job like you did last year, I can tell." I have learned through trial and error that if I don't like my job I don't tell Darren. I pretend like I do. He will accuse me of never liking any job ever, and I didn't want that. So I told him all was well, that it was just the first week that was really hard, and that things would look up. Then I started praying they would. And they did. Thankfully.
I didn't get any bruises or scratches this week like some of the other teachers in the other classes did. I didn't have any kids throw themselves on the floor and kick and scream and refuse to participate like some other classes. I didn't have anyone run away.
I did chase one wild boy all around in order to get him to sit down, and now I don't need to do any exercise at all this week. Phew! I did get my elbow fondled by another boy, which was the strangest experience ever. He kind of went slack-jawed and all glassy-eyed as he stroked the rough spots. While this was happening, the teacher started laughing and said, "He does that to me all the time!" I was deflated and a bit jealous. I thought my elbows must have been something extraordinary. I guess not.
Other highlights of the first days of school:
* Getting hit in the head--hard--with a basketball and feeling a bit lightheaded.
* Watching Meaghan pick out every single gosh-darned crunch berry out of her crunch berry ceral and getting screamed at because I poured the milk on before they were all off.
*Groveling to the lunch ladies for extra french toast for Toby. I was told he'd have to pay for an entire other breakfast, but that couldn't he have some fruit or yogurt to fill him up? Lunch ladies don't budge, from their hairnets to their toes. That's what I learned. Yessiree.
*Realizing that my brain CAN function in the morning if I coax it a bit. This was a lovely revelation, because for many years, I have truly believed that my morningitis was a degenerative condition. The good news! I can change.
*Everybody, regardless of age or station should have a MANDATORY ten-minute relaxation after lunch where they are forced to be quiet, close their eyes and listen to nice music.
Today I have been married 20 years! For 20 years Darren has put up with me. We promised to always drive each other crazy and we have done exactly what we promised. We have both fulfilled our marriage vows and then some. I got some chocolate covered cinnamon bears from the BYU Bookstore (divine!) and some Burt's Bees Foot Cream. That was a major hint on his part that my feel need a little TLC. Love you sweetie!
Along about Wednesday of last week Darren said, "So, I'm worried about you. You don't like this job like you did last year, I can tell." I have learned through trial and error that if I don't like my job I don't tell Darren. I pretend like I do. He will accuse me of never liking any job ever, and I didn't want that. So I told him all was well, that it was just the first week that was really hard, and that things would look up. Then I started praying they would. And they did. Thankfully.
I didn't get any bruises or scratches this week like some of the other teachers in the other classes did. I didn't have any kids throw themselves on the floor and kick and scream and refuse to participate like some other classes. I didn't have anyone run away.
I did chase one wild boy all around in order to get him to sit down, and now I don't need to do any exercise at all this week. Phew! I did get my elbow fondled by another boy, which was the strangest experience ever. He kind of went slack-jawed and all glassy-eyed as he stroked the rough spots. While this was happening, the teacher started laughing and said, "He does that to me all the time!" I was deflated and a bit jealous. I thought my elbows must have been something extraordinary. I guess not.
Other highlights of the first days of school:
* Getting hit in the head--hard--with a basketball and feeling a bit lightheaded.
* Watching Meaghan pick out every single gosh-darned crunch berry out of her crunch berry ceral and getting screamed at because I poured the milk on before they were all off.
*Groveling to the lunch ladies for extra french toast for Toby. I was told he'd have to pay for an entire other breakfast, but that couldn't he have some fruit or yogurt to fill him up? Lunch ladies don't budge, from their hairnets to their toes. That's what I learned. Yessiree.
*Realizing that my brain CAN function in the morning if I coax it a bit. This was a lovely revelation, because for many years, I have truly believed that my morningitis was a degenerative condition. The good news! I can change.
*Everybody, regardless of age or station should have a MANDATORY ten-minute relaxation after lunch where they are forced to be quiet, close their eyes and listen to nice music.
Today I have been married 20 years! For 20 years Darren has put up with me. We promised to always drive each other crazy and we have done exactly what we promised. We have both fulfilled our marriage vows and then some. I got some chocolate covered cinnamon bears from the BYU Bookstore (divine!) and some Burt's Bees Foot Cream. That was a major hint on his part that my feel need a little TLC. Love you sweetie!
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Back to School or Baby that was Short
It has not been a great summer of posting. I seem to have hit a writing slump, and I have slumped down pretty far. But I'm hoping to pull myself out of whatever funk I've slipped into in and start producing again. I know my fans are heartbroken that they haven't heard from me for so long. Tee hee.
SO . . . How's your summer? Mine seems like the shortest on record. Every year I say that but this year . . .phew! Maybe it's because things have chnaged and I'm actually going back to school this year with the kids instead of staying home while they go back. Yes, I must say that my life is about to change in a big way.
No, not the master's degree thing. That's still a big old maybe. The teaching thing. At Foothill Elementary from 8-2 every day. I will be an autism aide for six hours a day!! I don't know if I am up for this, but here goes. I have a senior in high school and college tuition looming for her next fall and several expensive (just look at the weak dollar!) months in Europe next summer. I need to work. Plus Darren says I am much happier and spend less money when I work. If I'm at work, I'm not shopping. Funny how that works. I always said he was brilliant!
Did I just write that my daughter's starting her senior year? This is mind boggling, absolutely terrifying to think that that wailing red little human(Sorry Adrie) will be living next fall in a dorm with friends and not under my roof. I feel like I have been smacked across the face. I am stunned and I feel like crying. Seventeen years has passed way too quickly. When she was baby I was in a time warp. Time never seemed to pass. Then all of the sudden . . . . .she's even more beautiful than I ever thought, and I love her more than I ever thought.
So things are different this year, and there is a lot to do to get ready. We had a fantastic vacation up at the cabin, probably the best ever, and made many lovely memories. Now it's time for reality to hit. Four kids and me have to be ready to go to school on Monday the 18th. That's in a week. Darren has to go to his school, too, but I'm gonna let him get ready himself, thank you.
I am so done with all three girl's birthdays. Three in one month is a killer financially and otherwise. Sammie's was on Aug 7 and we had a big family dinner for her a few days before that. Before we went to the cabin she got a cell phone. This was a big deal! It's lime green and has keyboard for texting. She was thrilled. She wanted to get pastries at Gloria's Little Italy on her birthday and so we went. Chocolate cannoli, anyone?
The day before I took her school shopping. This included a new pair of glasses, two new pairs of shoes, two pairs of levis and assorted shirts. This also included a break at the Nordstrom cafe which kept us going even longer. It's not "shop til you drop." On this particular day it was "shop until you are comatose, and then go home and fix dinner." The next day she got her hair cut and needed various styling "products."
Sheesh. And that day was also junior high registration. Double sheesh. Not cheap in the land of many children per family school district. And that was just one kid!!!!!!
Darren made her make salsa with him and work in the garden because of all these extravagances. How can junior high registration be an extravagance? Hang on, honey, high school registration is next week. They will probably make us pay more for the privilege of being a senior and because the school is being rebuilt. Go Orem High Tigers!
Top ten things to do before next Monday at 8 am.
1. Buy food for lunches. Good food, the kids said, not carrot sticks and yogurt. Good food to them means Zingers and Pringles. I haven't bought Zingers since my senior year in high school. That was the same year my friend Chris Tebben bought a coke and candy bar every day for lunch when her Mom thought she was buying school lunch.
2. Get Nathan's hair cut whether or not he's kicking or screaming.
3. Do all the laundry so that it won't pile up more than three feet that first week of school.
4. Put up my PTA bulletin board at Cascade before back to school night.
5. Lose 10 pounds by Friday night so I can get into my swimming suit for the ward swim party.
6. Find Nathan a guitar teacher. Any suggestions?
7. Sign Leah up for BYU creative dance.
8. Celebrate my 20-year wedding anniversary!I made it 20 years, but I don't know if Darren has or not. I'll let you know on that one . . .
9. Go to back to school night and pretend that my son's teacher isn't the same teacher that drove us all insane with ridiculous homework when Sammie had him.
10. Make everyone lay out their clothes on Sunday night, except for the teenage girls who will try on 20 different shirts Monday morning, leave them ALL on the floor as they leave claiming they have NOTHING TO WEAR! I will find many of these shirts, perfectly clean, but now wrinkled, in the wash a few days later. I know they will do this because it's in their genes (not jeans!)
Wish me luck.
SO . . . How's your summer? Mine seems like the shortest on record. Every year I say that but this year . . .phew! Maybe it's because things have chnaged and I'm actually going back to school this year with the kids instead of staying home while they go back. Yes, I must say that my life is about to change in a big way.
No, not the master's degree thing. That's still a big old maybe. The teaching thing. At Foothill Elementary from 8-2 every day. I will be an autism aide for six hours a day!! I don't know if I am up for this, but here goes. I have a senior in high school and college tuition looming for her next fall and several expensive (just look at the weak dollar!) months in Europe next summer. I need to work. Plus Darren says I am much happier and spend less money when I work. If I'm at work, I'm not shopping. Funny how that works. I always said he was brilliant!
Did I just write that my daughter's starting her senior year? This is mind boggling, absolutely terrifying to think that that wailing red little human(Sorry Adrie) will be living next fall in a dorm with friends and not under my roof. I feel like I have been smacked across the face. I am stunned and I feel like crying. Seventeen years has passed way too quickly. When she was baby I was in a time warp. Time never seemed to pass. Then all of the sudden . . . . .she's even more beautiful than I ever thought, and I love her more than I ever thought.
So things are different this year, and there is a lot to do to get ready. We had a fantastic vacation up at the cabin, probably the best ever, and made many lovely memories. Now it's time for reality to hit. Four kids and me have to be ready to go to school on Monday the 18th. That's in a week. Darren has to go to his school, too, but I'm gonna let him get ready himself, thank you.
I am so done with all three girl's birthdays. Three in one month is a killer financially and otherwise. Sammie's was on Aug 7 and we had a big family dinner for her a few days before that. Before we went to the cabin she got a cell phone. This was a big deal! It's lime green and has keyboard for texting. She was thrilled. She wanted to get pastries at Gloria's Little Italy on her birthday and so we went. Chocolate cannoli, anyone?
The day before I took her school shopping. This included a new pair of glasses, two new pairs of shoes, two pairs of levis and assorted shirts. This also included a break at the Nordstrom cafe which kept us going even longer. It's not "shop til you drop." On this particular day it was "shop until you are comatose, and then go home and fix dinner." The next day she got her hair cut and needed various styling "products."
Sheesh. And that day was also junior high registration. Double sheesh. Not cheap in the land of many children per family school district. And that was just one kid!!!!!!
Darren made her make salsa with him and work in the garden because of all these extravagances. How can junior high registration be an extravagance? Hang on, honey, high school registration is next week. They will probably make us pay more for the privilege of being a senior and because the school is being rebuilt. Go Orem High Tigers!
Top ten things to do before next Monday at 8 am.
1. Buy food for lunches. Good food, the kids said, not carrot sticks and yogurt. Good food to them means Zingers and Pringles. I haven't bought Zingers since my senior year in high school. That was the same year my friend Chris Tebben bought a coke and candy bar every day for lunch when her Mom thought she was buying school lunch.
2. Get Nathan's hair cut whether or not he's kicking or screaming.
3. Do all the laundry so that it won't pile up more than three feet that first week of school.
4. Put up my PTA bulletin board at Cascade before back to school night.
5. Lose 10 pounds by Friday night so I can get into my swimming suit for the ward swim party.
6. Find Nathan a guitar teacher. Any suggestions?
7. Sign Leah up for BYU creative dance.
8. Celebrate my 20-year wedding anniversary!I made it 20 years, but I don't know if Darren has or not. I'll let you know on that one . . .
9. Go to back to school night and pretend that my son's teacher isn't the same teacher that drove us all insane with ridiculous homework when Sammie had him.
10. Make everyone lay out their clothes on Sunday night, except for the teenage girls who will try on 20 different shirts Monday morning, leave them ALL on the floor as they leave claiming they have NOTHING TO WEAR! I will find many of these shirts, perfectly clean, but now wrinkled, in the wash a few days later. I know they will do this because it's in their genes (not jeans!)
Wish me luck.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Goin' to the Cabin
Tomorrow I'm going to the cabin in Montanta. I've been going there since I was a wee babe in arms. I've taken my own kids when they were babes in arms. Now they're no longer wailing babies whose nighttime crying echo through the uninsulated cabin at 2 am to keep the relatives awake.
Now they just scream. Usually for joy. They scream because they're at the cabin, because they're playing Pit on the porch, because they caught a fish (keep your fingers crossed) or because they're jumping off the end of the pier into the frigid lake. They're screaming because they're being towed behind a boat on an enormous floaty thing with their cousins.
They might wail a bit when I'm trying to get a palmful of slivers out with my tweezers or, heaven forbid, needle. They might complain when it's their turn to "do the dishes" without a garbage disposal or a dishwasher. Or when it's their turn to set the table for 14 people next weekebd when all the family will arrive for a little reunion. Or when it's time to clean the cabin and go home there will definitely be protests.
But these are the cries of kids living life and having fun. I prefer these cries to inconsolable babies in the middle of the night. You could say my cabin ship has come in. I've been waiting for lots of years for the kids to be manageable and self-sufficient at the cabin. And this year it might be the magical one, the one where I get to do want I want. I might be able to sit at the beach for several hours without having to get up to take care of anybody. I might get to read on the beach--something I haven't done for 15 years.
I will teach my kids that rather than walk all the way up the hill to the cabin to use the bathroom, to do what I used to do--walk out into the lake. If they refuse they can walk up to the cabin by themselves!!! Hooray.
When I want to read on the porch swing in the afternoon, they can join me to read together or they can go do something else for a while. Guess what? Nothing will happen if I ignore them. Yee haw!
I will miss a few things. Snuggling with babies in fuzzy sleepers in the warm cabin beds. Watching their toddler faces consort with fear and excitement when they see the bearskin hanging on the cabin wall. Watching them put sand in their mouths at the beach and then scream when it tastes horrible. Watching them go back and forth in the wooden swing that latches onto the beam on the porch. Seeing them in the high chair that me, my siblings and all my cousins used as babies.
But I'm ready to move on to this exctiing phase. I don't think I'd go back if I could.
Now they just scream. Usually for joy. They scream because they're at the cabin, because they're playing Pit on the porch, because they caught a fish (keep your fingers crossed) or because they're jumping off the end of the pier into the frigid lake. They're screaming because they're being towed behind a boat on an enormous floaty thing with their cousins.
They might wail a bit when I'm trying to get a palmful of slivers out with my tweezers or, heaven forbid, needle. They might complain when it's their turn to "do the dishes" without a garbage disposal or a dishwasher. Or when it's their turn to set the table for 14 people next weekebd when all the family will arrive for a little reunion. Or when it's time to clean the cabin and go home there will definitely be protests.
But these are the cries of kids living life and having fun. I prefer these cries to inconsolable babies in the middle of the night. You could say my cabin ship has come in. I've been waiting for lots of years for the kids to be manageable and self-sufficient at the cabin. And this year it might be the magical one, the one where I get to do want I want. I might be able to sit at the beach for several hours without having to get up to take care of anybody. I might get to read on the beach--something I haven't done for 15 years.
I will teach my kids that rather than walk all the way up the hill to the cabin to use the bathroom, to do what I used to do--walk out into the lake. If they refuse they can walk up to the cabin by themselves!!! Hooray.
When I want to read on the porch swing in the afternoon, they can join me to read together or they can go do something else for a while. Guess what? Nothing will happen if I ignore them. Yee haw!
I will miss a few things. Snuggling with babies in fuzzy sleepers in the warm cabin beds. Watching their toddler faces consort with fear and excitement when they see the bearskin hanging on the cabin wall. Watching them put sand in their mouths at the beach and then scream when it tastes horrible. Watching them go back and forth in the wooden swing that latches onto the beam on the porch. Seeing them in the high chair that me, my siblings and all my cousins used as babies.
But I'm ready to move on to this exctiing phase. I don't think I'd go back if I could.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Last Weekend's Great Blog Material
"Oh, Ellen, that's great blog material," my mom told me after I'd described the events of the past few days. Indeed I had to agree, that the only thing good that came out of last Friday and Saturday was the hopefully good story it would make in writing or telling. Oh, and the 70s TV reminiscing around the campfire was a definite plus.
OK, you've all heard of youth conference. It's where youth leaders from church spend weeks organizing food, shelter and bathrooms for 25 teenagers. For one night away they pack 17 coolers full of stuff for dinner, breakfast, snacks and other essential equipment. Actually they didn't have to bring the port o potty. It was delivered for a pretty sum, the bishop told me when I was in the throes of wishing I were dead.
I didn't have to do much for youth conference. Just show up with Adrienne at this cool ranch house in Heber, Utah, for the festivities. I arrived just as they were serving taco salad for dinner. I had a reasonable amount of taco salad, and then the girls and I set up our enormous tent. We argued about whether to put the rain flap on, but decided to leave it be.
The speaker (a former Eastern-Euopean biathalon Olympic gold-medal winner, recently joined the LDS church and moved to Heber Utah) was inspiring and mesmerizing to listen to. She brought her Olympic gold, silver and bronze medals to show us, but those stayed in the box for most of her talk. The things that were most dear to her were church and family. The gold medals were kind of an afterthought. Even the 12-year old boys were quiet for this story.
Around the campfire the over 40 leaders and I had a great time thinking of all the theme songs we remembered--"Beverly Hillbillies," "Genie," and "The Partridge Family." We laughed and laughed and ate s'mores. I ate one, a reasonable amount considering that at one point 16-year old Tyler G. had fourteen marshmallows stuck in his mouth. He didn't spit them all out, either. Probably 10 of them went down all at once. Typical youth group disgusting stuff.
Bedtime came. I settled on an air mattress next to Sammie and Adrie. Managed to fall asleep. About 2 in the morning I awoke suddenly. My stomach was grumbling, and I felt queasy. In the tent next to us 16-year olds Stephanie and Rachel were telling each other their life stories--loudly! We yelled and them to stop and they'd hush for a few minutes, and then gradually put more drama(and volume)into their voices. It was impossible to sleep, and my stomach was not cooperating.
I thought maybe if I used the port 0 potty I'd feel better. It was a reasonable assumption. So I found my flashlight, put on my shoes (but didn't tie the laces--this is important!) and unzipped the tent. I started to make my way across the meadow through all this brush. I wondered why we were were camped so far away from the potty. There was a dry stream bed that you had to jump over, and I did so but not well. That darn shoe lace tripped me and I smacked down hard on my left shoulder on a giant rock.
So now I was lying on a rock at 2 or 3 in the morning feeling like my arm was broken, and really needing to use the bathroom. I pushed myself up with my right arm, and climbed out of the dry creek bed, a bit dizzy and disoriented. My left arm would not move.
I stumbled into the port o potty and managed to do my business. But then couldn't pull my pants up because my left arm was throbbing. I pulled my pants up on the right side and got into the car. I scootched around on the seat until my pants were up. Then I started praying for my throbbing arm and queasy stomach. I knew I needed help.
I woke up Jared and Amy Hess who were sleeping in the back of the truck near my car. They got a chair for me to sit down in. Jared went to get the bishop and his wife. They stumbled onto the scene, and asked me what happened. I said I needed a blessing, that my arm woudln't move. They gave me a blessing and then drove me to Heber Valley Hospital where I threw up for 10 minutes in the bushes after the car stopped.
In the emergency room I was required to lie flat on my back so they could ex-ray my arm. I prayed the whole time that my stomach would settle enough so I could get the ex-rays. At one point the bishop's wife, Cynthia, had to take my bra off because the metal was interfering with the imaging. SO there was poor Cynthia walking around the hopsital with my bra. I took deep breaths as they stretched my arm backwards ever so slowly to get the right picture.
My arm was not broken. It was deeply bruised, the doctor said. I could move it better now. Back in the car. Back to winding roads. Back to upset stomach. A minute before we got back I asked the bishop to pull over so I could throw up. Which I did. It was now 5:30 in the morning, and the bishop and Cynthia went back to bed.
I stayed in the car, wishing I could die. The stomach pain was unbearable. It reminded me of being in labor, except that when you're in labor the contractions stop and you can catch your breath. These pains were like going through transition in labor with no stop.
And it's not like I could go sit on the port 0 potty, either. And there was no where to lie down. It was hellish.
After writhing around in the car for an hour, I finally called Darren. "Come get me!" I begged. "I feel like I want to die."
Forty-five minutes later he pulled in, my knight in shining armour who was less than amused by the whole situation. The first thing he told me was that I wasn't going to girl's camp in two weeks and that I was never going camping again without him. Those of you who know Darren, know that he says things as they are.
We stopped in Heber for some Pepto Bismal which helped me get down the canyon. Darren also bought a bagel sandwich that made me sick to look at. Darren had me down the canyon in about 25 minutes. I collapsed in my bed but not to sleep. I endured about 8 more hours of steady pain. The only time I felt a little better was when I stood in the shower, which I did several times for 45 minutes. Darren called the on-call doctor who said I was probably having a gall bladder attack. He was about to take me to the emergency room again, when all of the sudden the pain let up a bit. Just a bit. Enough for me to collapse in exhaustion for about six hours of fitful sleep.
At 6 pm I emerged from my room, happy that I was alive and that the pain was gone.
Since then I have not had another attack but there is a 70 percent chance that I will. I have given up all fatty foods because that is what triggers an attack.
At my annual physical on Tuesday (just happened to have it scheduled), the blood they drew showed that something wasn't functioning optimally with my liver, and that probably means that I really am having gall bladder problems. Thanks for the stamp of approval, doctor's office. I also had a bladder infection.
So on Monday bright and early I go get an ultrasound so they can look at my gall bladder. Whether it's just irritated or has a string of stones in it remains to be seen. Whatever the result, I am probably headed for surgery if I want to avoid another attack.
So that was my weekend. How was yours?
OK, you've all heard of youth conference. It's where youth leaders from church spend weeks organizing food, shelter and bathrooms for 25 teenagers. For one night away they pack 17 coolers full of stuff for dinner, breakfast, snacks and other essential equipment. Actually they didn't have to bring the port o potty. It was delivered for a pretty sum, the bishop told me when I was in the throes of wishing I were dead.
I didn't have to do much for youth conference. Just show up with Adrienne at this cool ranch house in Heber, Utah, for the festivities. I arrived just as they were serving taco salad for dinner. I had a reasonable amount of taco salad, and then the girls and I set up our enormous tent. We argued about whether to put the rain flap on, but decided to leave it be.
The speaker (a former Eastern-Euopean biathalon Olympic gold-medal winner, recently joined the LDS church and moved to Heber Utah) was inspiring and mesmerizing to listen to. She brought her Olympic gold, silver and bronze medals to show us, but those stayed in the box for most of her talk. The things that were most dear to her were church and family. The gold medals were kind of an afterthought. Even the 12-year old boys were quiet for this story.
Around the campfire the over 40 leaders and I had a great time thinking of all the theme songs we remembered--"Beverly Hillbillies," "Genie," and "The Partridge Family." We laughed and laughed and ate s'mores. I ate one, a reasonable amount considering that at one point 16-year old Tyler G. had fourteen marshmallows stuck in his mouth. He didn't spit them all out, either. Probably 10 of them went down all at once. Typical youth group disgusting stuff.
Bedtime came. I settled on an air mattress next to Sammie and Adrie. Managed to fall asleep. About 2 in the morning I awoke suddenly. My stomach was grumbling, and I felt queasy. In the tent next to us 16-year olds Stephanie and Rachel were telling each other their life stories--loudly! We yelled and them to stop and they'd hush for a few minutes, and then gradually put more drama(and volume)into their voices. It was impossible to sleep, and my stomach was not cooperating.
I thought maybe if I used the port 0 potty I'd feel better. It was a reasonable assumption. So I found my flashlight, put on my shoes (but didn't tie the laces--this is important!) and unzipped the tent. I started to make my way across the meadow through all this brush. I wondered why we were were camped so far away from the potty. There was a dry stream bed that you had to jump over, and I did so but not well. That darn shoe lace tripped me and I smacked down hard on my left shoulder on a giant rock.
So now I was lying on a rock at 2 or 3 in the morning feeling like my arm was broken, and really needing to use the bathroom. I pushed myself up with my right arm, and climbed out of the dry creek bed, a bit dizzy and disoriented. My left arm would not move.
I stumbled into the port o potty and managed to do my business. But then couldn't pull my pants up because my left arm was throbbing. I pulled my pants up on the right side and got into the car. I scootched around on the seat until my pants were up. Then I started praying for my throbbing arm and queasy stomach. I knew I needed help.
I woke up Jared and Amy Hess who were sleeping in the back of the truck near my car. They got a chair for me to sit down in. Jared went to get the bishop and his wife. They stumbled onto the scene, and asked me what happened. I said I needed a blessing, that my arm woudln't move. They gave me a blessing and then drove me to Heber Valley Hospital where I threw up for 10 minutes in the bushes after the car stopped.
In the emergency room I was required to lie flat on my back so they could ex-ray my arm. I prayed the whole time that my stomach would settle enough so I could get the ex-rays. At one point the bishop's wife, Cynthia, had to take my bra off because the metal was interfering with the imaging. SO there was poor Cynthia walking around the hopsital with my bra. I took deep breaths as they stretched my arm backwards ever so slowly to get the right picture.
My arm was not broken. It was deeply bruised, the doctor said. I could move it better now. Back in the car. Back to winding roads. Back to upset stomach. A minute before we got back I asked the bishop to pull over so I could throw up. Which I did. It was now 5:30 in the morning, and the bishop and Cynthia went back to bed.
I stayed in the car, wishing I could die. The stomach pain was unbearable. It reminded me of being in labor, except that when you're in labor the contractions stop and you can catch your breath. These pains were like going through transition in labor with no stop.
And it's not like I could go sit on the port 0 potty, either. And there was no where to lie down. It was hellish.
After writhing around in the car for an hour, I finally called Darren. "Come get me!" I begged. "I feel like I want to die."
Forty-five minutes later he pulled in, my knight in shining armour who was less than amused by the whole situation. The first thing he told me was that I wasn't going to girl's camp in two weeks and that I was never going camping again without him. Those of you who know Darren, know that he says things as they are.
We stopped in Heber for some Pepto Bismal which helped me get down the canyon. Darren also bought a bagel sandwich that made me sick to look at. Darren had me down the canyon in about 25 minutes. I collapsed in my bed but not to sleep. I endured about 8 more hours of steady pain. The only time I felt a little better was when I stood in the shower, which I did several times for 45 minutes. Darren called the on-call doctor who said I was probably having a gall bladder attack. He was about to take me to the emergency room again, when all of the sudden the pain let up a bit. Just a bit. Enough for me to collapse in exhaustion for about six hours of fitful sleep.
At 6 pm I emerged from my room, happy that I was alive and that the pain was gone.
Since then I have not had another attack but there is a 70 percent chance that I will. I have given up all fatty foods because that is what triggers an attack.
At my annual physical on Tuesday (just happened to have it scheduled), the blood they drew showed that something wasn't functioning optimally with my liver, and that probably means that I really am having gall bladder problems. Thanks for the stamp of approval, doctor's office. I also had a bladder infection.
So on Monday bright and early I go get an ultrasound so they can look at my gall bladder. Whether it's just irritated or has a string of stones in it remains to be seen. Whatever the result, I am probably headed for surgery if I want to avoid another attack.
So that was my weekend. How was yours?
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