Knife Fight?

I told the questioners at church today that Mike and I had a knife fight...no one believed me.
I would have thought an altercation with a grocery cart a more unbelievable story.

I Hurt My Pride

During the 2002 Salt Lake Olympics, my parents had tickets to go to some medals ceremonies. Being the good parents that they are, they let us kids go. We all went up to SLC together, and walked around enjoying the Olympic scene. You might remember the Canadian ice skater medal scandal. Well, my Dad (who never shied away from the spotlight) took to yelling "CANADA!!!" whenever he saw anyone wearing a red shirt. He was creating a spectacle and doing his best to embarrass his wife and children. Anyway, while crossing an intersection, he spotted a couple of people in Canada shirts and started to yell his cheers. His foot caught on the curb and he made a graceful roll to the ground. I (who had been walking far ahead of him, hoping not to be associated with him) came running to help him up. He had twisted his ankle and was in some pain. We kept asking if he was okay. Someone said "are you hurt?" He replied "just my pride". It broke my heart. He really was deflated after that. He limped along and was no longer yelling "Canada" whenever he saw a red shirt.


Tonight I had an experience that hurt my pride pretty bad.


One of my favorite things to do after shopping is to ride the cart back to my car. (I lean on the cart and pick my feet up while we zoom into the parking lot). The kids love going fast and I get a little of that youthful feeling back.


This time, there were no kids. Mike said I could make the trip alone. I was on a quick run for milk and eggs, and whatever else looked good. Is the mental picture being painted yet? I'll help you out...no kids weight, not too many groceries weight vs my weight. This time when I leaned on the cart to zoom to my car...BAM! I was on the ground, cart tipped up, groceries spilling out, hand bleeding. Yeah, I hurt my pride. It was a yard sale, but luckily there weren't many witnesses.

I limped my hurt body and embarrassed soul back to the car and drove home crying like the kids do when they get hurt. I was hurt, yes. But I was crying because I felt so stupid. I had gotten my 31 year old body hurt while acting like a teenager. The stupid bagger boys that had seen the whole incident will probably go home telling the hilarious story of this "stupid lady that was trying to ride the shopping cart". I can still see them trying not to laugh as they asked if I was okay. They weren't kind like the lady who offered me the rolled up tissue from her pocket to staunch the blood dripping from my hand. They were insolent boys (how's that for a GWTW word) who think they will be young and agile forever.

Oh well, now I have 3 stitches and a really good excuse to flip people off all around town...and a pretty good limp from the swollen and sore knee.


The stupid thing is, I probably won't stop riding the shopping cart to the car. I'll just make sure the groceries are heavier than me (I know, it will only be on big stock up days).

Gone With the Wind

Here comes another pointless post...

I always loved to read as a kid. I would stay up late at night and read by the light of a flash light under the covers. My favorite Christmas and Birthday gifts were books. I loved that I shared the love of reading with my Mom (who I thought was super cool), and I loved that she shared some of her favorite childhood books with me. Trixie Beldon will forever hold a place in my heart.

When I was in 9th grade Mom gave me Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind and told me I would probably like it. I remember that it was ninth grade because I can actually remember the seat at school that I was sitting in as I read it. I remember because my guy friends teased me ruthlessly as they looked at the cover of the book. It was a cover that depicted the characters of the movie. Scarlett's dress was falling off her shoulder, and Rhett's hairy chest was exposed.

They accused me of reading smut, and by that cover I would agree. I remember emphatically telling the boys that the book wasn't like that. They would say "yeah, whatever", and I would turn back to the book and be absorbed in it, not caring what the guys thought


For some reason, the book made quite an impression on me. In fact, it made me want to be a writer. I sat in my creative writing classes writing about the "flashing green eyes" of my character. (Scarlett has flashing green eyes). I guarantee if I went back and read some of the stuff I wrote back then I would be so embarrassed of myself. But I guess we were all a little ridiculous in 9th grade.


As an adult, I still remembered liking the book. There aren't very many books out there that stick with me very long, but this one has. I have seen the movie, and once again I have had to vehemently argue to friends the the movie is not like the book. The movie paints Scarlett to be such a fool, and I guess she is. But how can a movie, even a 4 hour movie, do justice to a book like Gone With the Wind.


Anyway, this month is my turn to host for book club. We didn't meet in November or December so I decided to pick Gone With the Wind thinking that almost 3 months would give people time to read it. Since I no longer have (or make) time to read, I checked out the book on cassette at the library. It is quite a long book, but I have enjoyed it immensely. It has been a long time since a book has occupied so much of my mind that I can't quit thinking about it when I am not listening to it. That's why I am writing about it now. How can you have something occupy so much of your mind and not impose it on others?


In fact, there are lessons to be learned from GWTW. In the beginning of the book, Scarlett is wondering what dress to wear to a barbecue. She wants to impress her precious Ashley (gag). The one she chooses is green and shows some bosom and (gasp!) her bare arms. Her inner battle says that a lady would never show so much skin so early in the day. You ask, how does that apply to our day and age? Well, I was at Walmart the other day at 9:00 in the morning. I saw a woman who obviously had never learned about this aspect of being a lady. She was wearing a screaming blue sequined top, and as you can imagine from your own trips to Walmart, it was a few sizes smaller than would have been comfortable on her. It showed some bosom and (GASP!!!) her bare arms. In her case, we all would have been better off if she had not shown so much skin in general, but before afternoon it was nauseating. Maybe if she had read the book she would have thought twice before putting on a shirt like that.

So, the point of this post: give Gone With the Wind a try (again if you already have). See if you love the character of Rhett Butler as much as I do. Today, so I could have an excuse to listen to the last few tapes, I cleaned up the kitchen and sobbed so loudly that the kids came in to see what was wrong.

For me, a good book is one that makes you think about it long after you close the pages. It makes you want to go to the author and pick her brain for more knowledge about the characters. (Which is why I am going to read Rhett Butler's People next. Even though it wasn't written by Margaret Mitchell, it was written from notes taken from her estate). Anyway, in a good book, bad things can happen and characters can make bad choices. Things don't always happen the way we as readers want them to, but I think that makes it stonger. It makes you think about it more. So, get that stupid Edward out of your mind...see what you think of Scarlett and Rhett.

Did you know...

you can bottle butter?

I got a pretty cool food storage book from my Mom last year, and it has all kinds of things I have been wanting to try out. Bottling butter was one of them. Mike thought it was a ridiculous concept...

Mike: "What would you need bottled butter for when you could put it in the fridge?"

Me: "What if the power goes out and we can't use a fridge"

Mike: "Wouldn't we rather have jam and fruit? I could live without butter."

Me: "Uh...I'm just going to bottle butter okay?"

So, I did.

You put a bunch of butter in a pan and melt it. Then you add it to pint jars that are warmed to 200 degrees. Put on a lid and wait for it to pop (letting you know it is sealed).

You have to shake it every 10 minutes as it solidifies, but that was no big deal because I sat at the computer and played "Smoothie Moves" to earn Allie Kinzcash. To any of you who have a Webkinz, you'll know what I am talking about. And those of you without Webkinz, don't get one...you'll be addicted to the stupid games and turn into a miser about getting Kinzcash (money to buy your pet food, furniture, and anything under the sun).

Anyway, now I have some surprisingly pretty jars of butter to sit on my shelf. Now if I can only quit worrying about having butter sitting on my shelf...it just seems wrong to not have it in the fridge.

Colored Snow

I got the idea from my sister in law to put food coloring in a squirt bottle of water and let the kids "paint" the snow. A little while ago when I thought I would go crazy cleaning up one more mess or solving one more "disagreement" between the kids, we went out to try it.

I just realized I didn't take any pictures of them actually spraying the snow, but that's okay. I'm sure you can imagine it. Jake got blue and Allie had pink (lately she is really insistent upon having everything be pink). They loved spraying the snow. It was one of those rare times when we were the only kids out in our neighborhood and I was getting cold and bored with no other Moms to chat with, but the kids were entertained by colored water.

Jake has decided that it is really fun to make yellow snow.

After catching Allie doing this...

We had a good chat about eating colored snow.

One of the only bad parts about winter (I love the cold and all the snow), is this...

After spending 15 minutes getting all the snow clothes on, and fighting to keep them on (curse those little hands and gloves), you get to come in and clean up the mess. Everything is wet and really annoying.

Allie is a little less willing to stay out for long periods of time. When she gets cold, she informs me that she wants hot chocolate, then makes her way back inside. I usually come in to find her out of snow clothes, and trying to scrounge up something to eat. Sometimes, she finds every blanket in the house (there are not as many available to her anymore because it was creating too many problems) and snuggles in on the couch to get warm.

It really has been a pretty fun winter. Hope you are all enjoying the snow...just stay away from the colored patches around our yard.

Charity and Starbursts

Today in church, our Sunday School lesson was on Charity. I was sitting in there thinking that I had a lot of charity for my family and that it is super easy to have charity for people you love. Then, (as I have said before, my mind goes through random paths sometimes) it wandered to candy. Bear with me through this web of pointless stories until we get to the point of the post at the end...
When I was a little kid, my parents owned a gas station. It was a Chevron store named the Quick Stop. Many of you have been there and played Pac Man on blue quarters (quarters that we marked with marker so we could pull them back out and use them again when Dad emptied the bin). Anyway, when we would head out of town to go to Boise or any other place, we always had to stop at the Quick Stop (for a stop that was never "quick") to make sure things were good and to gas up. We always got out of the car and took a bag around the store collecting garbage. It wasn't really something any of us looked forward to, but it did earn us a dollar to buy a treat. I remember painstakingly counting out 94 penny candies (leaving the 6 cents for tax) or getting Mambas because they lasted a long time. Some of the other siblings squandered their money on a candy bar that would be gone in a few seconds. Then they would want me to share...here is where some of the "charity" lesson comes into the story. I never had enough charity to want to share. If I did, it was because Mom asked me to, so a fight would be solved. And even then, I wouldn't want to give away my favorite flavors. For example, the strawberry or raspberry Mambas. They could have orange or lemon, grudgingly. I also clung pretty tightly to the green Swedish fish, or the watermelon penny candies.
Fast forward many years...
I still had a love for candy. I even hid my favorite things around the house because I knew Mike would chow it without savoring it as I would.
Then I had kids. One day I got a bag of Starbursts and was eating them in the kitchen. I admit, I was hiding them in the cupboard and sneaking bites when Jake and Allie were otherwise occupied. As the number of Starbursts dwindled, I was caught. Jake asked for one. If there had been a whole bag, I would have gladly given him a few, but it wasn't a full bag and I was surprised that I willingly gave him one of the last 4 Starbursts. I eat them in color order, least favorite to favorite...red, yellow, orange, pink. Allie soon opened her little bird mouth and begged as well. The pile was down to my last 3 favorite flavors (I had given Jake the cherry, I guess that's not really a sacrifice because it is my least favorite.) When I gave her the lemon willingly, I knew I must really love her. Then Jake asked for the pink...it was tough, but I gave it up.
The point of this story (besides to let you all know how weird I am about candy) is to say that today, as I was sitting in Sunday School, I thought about Starbursts. I love my kids enough to give them the last Starburst in the cupboard. And if Mike wanted it, (and I knew he would enjoy it) I would give it to him too. Now I just need to work on wanting to give every person in this world my favorite Starbursts...because then I would truly have Charity. I'll work on that...anyone want a pink Starburst?

Oh Fudge...

This is an old experience, but I just found the picture on my camera and I had to share.

Allie can't open the fridge...Jake can. Sometimes she gets hungry for something that she knows I wouldn't approve of, like fudge at 8:30 in the morning. So she finds her friend Jake, convinces him that she will share in the spoils of the adventure, and gets him to open the fridge and satisfy her craving.

I was in the shower. Jake, after eating his fill, started to feel guilty and came to tell me what she was up to.

I'm glad I wasn't planning on giving away any more fudge...

What is Paper?

So Hard To Say Goodbye to Dear Santa...

I finally started putting away the Christmas decorations today. I had "help" as usual. While I was helping Jake not break the houses in our village, Allie took off with the Santa that we have had on our front porch. I forgot about it and continued putting things away. Allie was quiet for long enough to put fear in my heart, so I went to find her. I heard sweet murmurs coming from my room. She was using her "nice Mommy" voice, asking "you still cold?"

This is what I found...

If you look close, you can see her favorite purple Care Bear and some of her other treasured toys. While I was taking the pictures, she was explaining to Santa that the princess was "poopy" and wondering if she could take the potty back that she had given him.

Oh! What a cute girl!

I thought of her lovingly as I took Santa back downstairs, where he will likely be cold for 11 more months...

Christmas at our House

I think I have been feeling overwhelmed about all the things that have happened lately that I haven't wanted to write any posts because I didn't know where to start. I guess I just have to start somewhere, so I will start with Christmas.

We had a great time. For the second year now, we had our own little Christmas at our own house. Mike grumbled a little at the necessity of a "manger scene" when it was just us. My Mom usually has all the grandkids act one out, and he assumed we would be doing it when we all got together next...but I stuck to my guns. Allie was the cutest little Mommy Mary to her baby Jesus, and Jake was a protective Joseph.

We talked about Jesus and how important it is that we remember Him at Christmas. I am always amazed at what they comprehend. They know that they are loved by our Heavenly Father and Jesus, and they love Them. I think if they can continue to grow with that awareness, they will be alright in the world.

We did the letters to Santa thing, and I was surprised that both kids remembered what they got last year and wanted to thank him. I couldn't even remember what Santa gave them last year...

On the list of a million things to do before Christmas, "make the kids stockings" was one of them. Christmas Eve came, and I still hadn't checked that off the list, so Mike picked up a few at the dollar store. Allie really stressed Jake out when she did this...

"Allie, stockings are for hanging up and getting treats from Santa. They don't go on your feet!"
I thought it was cute, so amidst Jake's tears, I took a picture.






They hung up their stockings, left some fudge and milk for Santa, and tried to go to sleep. I had kept them from napping that day so they would fall asleep fast...backfire. Allie was too wound up to fall asleep, and Jake must have come out ten times to ask for different things. On one of the trips he caught me eating Santa's fudge..."isn't that for Santa?" (in a sad and close to tearful voice) I explained that I was just having a chocolate craving and I would replace it with new fudge...


Santa did find our house though, and he must have loved the fudge because the kids got a haul. Allie's request was for a Pony (the My Little Pony kind thankfully, Mike isn't really a horse guy, and we don't have that much room in our back yard.) She got what she wanted, and I got what I wanted when she got a Fisher Price Dance and Twirl Castle. I don't know why, but I love Little People toys, and I get more joy out of them than the kids do.

Jake's request of an "arrow pointer shooter" was fulfilled when Santa brought him a helicopter that shoots darts. Wow, Santa really is smart to figure that out!

It's so fun to have kids at an age where they are completely happy with what comes to them at Christmas. I remember a year when I was young that poor Santa didn't get anything right. Jenny got a fake Cabbage Patch doll that she threw across the room (because it didn't have the signature on the bum), and the rest of us were sad about one thing or another. My poor Mom felt like she was raising a bunch of ingrates. Sorry Mom.

Jake and Allie were completely happy with their haul and have had fun playing with their toys all week. We had a great Christmas and hope you all did too!