Light Refreshments Served

I am a stay at home mom of 7 (4 boys, 3 girls), ranging in age from 19 down to 3. I spend a fair amount of time looking at them and wondering if their real mom is ever coming home. I have been married for 21 years to a man that catches bad guys for a living. Check out Talitha’s blog here.

This should be fun…

So I am involved in helping plan and execute an event for a school booster club. This is normally not “my thing”, but I am determined to do this–to be of help, and to broaden my social circles a bit. I am excited, but a little nervous, because getting to know new people in a new environment is not something that comes easy to me.

So, I get the emails about where and when the first planning meeting is going to be. It seems that in choosing the location for said meeting, a high priority is placed on the availability of adult beverages and, if at all possible, a good Happy Hour. (and not the Sonic one, which of course I would be. All. Over.)

Great.

You see, with new people, I’ve always preferred easing into the fact that I am “The Mormon Chick”. I can usually count on a few meetings that don’t require me to reveal my teetotaler status, which gives me a chance to get comfortable with people before we have to get all “why don’t you drink?” about it.

So, I go to The Hubby and I state: (very maturely and not at all whiny) “But I don’t waaaaaannna be ‘The  Mormon Chick’ at the very first meeeeetinnngg.”

His response?

“Tell them you’re a raging alcoholic.”
“Or tell them that if you come home drunk one more time, I’ll beat you.”
“Or you could always say…hey! Where are you going, babe?”

He made being “The Mormon Chick” seem preferable, I’ll give him that.

Have you ever decided the day before you go on vacation that it sure would be nice to have a new shirt or two to take on your trip?  So you elected to try and fit shopping for clothes in between buying bug spray, $3 ponchos and unscented deodorant for your daughter who is going to need it for Girl’s Camp the day after you get back, and then you went into the clothing store and saw a super cute shirt on a mannequin the size of your pinky finger and thought, “Hey, that’s a cute shirt,” so you found it and tried it on only to be reminded that you are not, in fact, the same size as that mannequin and P.S. You don’t own any full length mirrors at home, and this is the first time in quite a while that you have seen yourself in disturbing 3-D, so you think, “Holy crap, I have GOT to go on a diet,” so you went home and printed up a plan for losing 30 pounds in the next three months, starting NOW, as in, HOURS BEFORE A FAMILY REUNION WHERE EATING IS THE PRIMARY COPING MECHANISM AND SEVERAL PANS OF BROWNIES WILL BE MADE, only to come home in a very foul mood to have your husband ask what seems to be the matter, and you say, “Three words:  Full. Length. Mirrors.” And he goes, “Uh oh.  What did you do that for?” and you say, “Because it’s been FOUR YEARS since I bought a new pair of jeans and because HI.  WE’RE SUPPOSED TO GET OUR FAMILY PICTURES TAKEN, so it seemed like the right thing to do, but that was before I went to buy road trip food wherein I bought m&m’s for YOU and sugar free Jolly Ranchers and Slim Fast bars for ME.”  And then you came home and eyed the vanilla and thought about packing it in your bag in case you need a midnight “snack” that’s technically not against your religion?

Yeah, me neither.

My niece, who is the same age as my daughter, has been in town visiting us for the past several days.  Yesterday we ventured out to do something fun so that when she gets home and her mom asks, “Did you have fun?  What did you guys do?” she would have something to say besides, “We watched Sponge Bob while Aunt Kristy talked on the phone and made mac ‘n cheese.”  It was a solid hour to our destination of the Alpine Slide in the mountains, so I put on a CD of some of my favorite songs and gave instructions to my passengers.  “After each song you need to vote and give it a rating on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being ‘I’d rather crawl naked over broken glass before listening to that again’ and 10 being ‘I just decided I want dancing at my funeral so you can play this song.’”  The votes are in, and I wanted to share with you what one 38-year-old, one 14-year-old, a 13-year-old and a 9-year-old voted as our top five songs for the road.

In first place with a score of 38 out of 40, “Ping Pong” by Enrique Iglesias.  Do you know what it feels like lovin’ someone that’s in a rush to throw you away?  Um, hi.  Enrique?  I don’t remember giving you permission to sing my life story.

In second place, “Black or White” by Michael Jackson.  It don’t matter if you’re black or white.  He’s been both, so I guess he should know! 

We had a three-way tie for third place:  “Yeah”, by Usher, “Just Can’t Get Enough” by Depeche Mode (still a good song even after 20 years, I don’t care what you say), and “Human” by The Killers.  Are we human or are we dancer?  Uhhhh, do I have to decide right now?  I’d like to think I’m a little of both, but those who have seen me dance know better. 

But now I’m less than 48 hours away from a ten hour road trip and I’m tired of all these songs so I need new ones.  Care to share your favorites?  Perhaps a few that aren’t stuck in another decade along with my big bangs?

I love the idea of going dressing up on a summer evening and walking to a cool, artistic photography exhibit where I see cool art and have interesting, intelligent conversations about important things. I love the idea of that, and I will attempt to breathe life into this idea by putting on a good pair of earrings, at least, and most likely driving (although I will walk from my car to the building), where I will most definitely by seeing cool art and having interesting conversations about important things, and maybe some unimportant topics as well (Do you think Jon and Kate went to counseling?)

Justin Hackworth and his incredible wife, Amy are great friends and both amazing artists. He takes pictures and she is a writer of words. They are both charming, cool, and generous. You want to be friends with them and you wish Justin could follow you around and record little moments of you and your family’s life.

So this Thursday come and make a donation to The Center for Women and Children in Crisis, and set up a time in the near future for your family portrait. You do this kind of thing now. You go to photography exhibits and donate to charities and have incredible, unique family portraits done. It’s who you are.

Date: Thursday, July 2
Time: 6-9 pm
Location: Knight-Block Building
1 East Center Street, Suite 215 Provo
Donations are made on the night of the exhibit, and portrait sessions are scheduled on select dates July through September.

See an online portfolio at www.justinhackworth.com.

Here is a really easy fun 4th of July decoration. This would be a great activity for the kids to help with too! Click here for instructions on how to make it!

As if I needed any more indications of how old I am, I have just discovered two more things that I “predate.”  The first, warehouse shopping, is not so alarming. I remember fondly my first wide-eyed foray into a Sam’s Club–the astonishing array of giant-sized containers, the prices that made it cheaper to buy the full-on 5-gallon tub of Cheez Balls even if you knew you’d end up tossing half of them (though how you can discern when a Cheez Ball has gone bad is a mystery to me).

But it was more disconcerting to be perusing my grocery-store receipt the other day and have it flash into my mind that I remembered the first grocery store in our area to implement such itemized receipts. I remember being shown the UPC on the bottom of a box of crackers and being told what it was for. And I distinctly remember thinking, “Oh, I’m so sure! Like they’re going to put that ugly little computer thingie on every product they sell!”

Life before the barcode. I’m really feeling like a dinosaur now.

How’s your Summer going? Awesome?
Great.
Have you been doing some activities on your Summer Wall?
Great. Me, too.
Added a few more to your list now and again?
Cool. . .
Oh, what have I added to mine?
Well, (since you asked) the other morning, over Cheerios, Hugh (still 4) said to me, “Mom, I’m going to go easy on you today.” Which unnerved me, but also confirmed some suspicions, and Phoebe (6, so she should know better) said to the home teachers “Well, thanks for coming, now leave!” And Margaret (18 months) thinks it’s funny to scratch me and slap me in the face.
So we’re going to add “teach manners” to our summer list.
And you?

A few minutes ago my doorbell rang.  Standing there were two, delightful boys from the neighborhood looking to play with my son.  I happened to be wearing this shirt. Read the rest of this entry »

Last Christmas I got on kind of a Michael Jackson kick. My kids didn’t know who he was–they had only heard all the weird stuff about him in recent years. So we spent a lot of time on Youtube. I guess it was a mistake because now they are sad that he is dead. If only I hadn’t spent Christmas Eve testifying to them of the awesomeness of that first moonwalk, they probably wouldn’t even care. It’s terrible. There was a time when he was really cute and incredibly awesome. Everyone in the whole world loved him. Then he got all crazy and freaky. I just hate it. It’s a bummer he didn’t go out on a high note. I almost wish he would have died 20 years ago. But I can overlook the weird and possibly criminal and remember him for Thriller and the like. Why not?

And speaking of people whose lives are changed for the better and then for the worse by the media machine and huge amounts of money, I think it is absolutely horrible to watch Jon and Kate these days. Hey, I’m the first to criticize Kate Gosselin for being a sell-out and a nag, but I am genuinely saddened to see their marriage break apart episode by episode. It’s gut wrenching! I can’t believe they have decided to divorce over the last few months without taking a hiatus from their show or (so it seems) getting counseling. What a phenomenon. I mean, I sort of feel bad like it’s none of my business but then I remember that this being my business is, literally, their business. In my heart of hearts, I really hope they work it out and get back together. I hate it when people become big cliches. It’s embarrassing whether you are a childhood star or a “real” couple who become worldy and unhappy through fame and fortune.

That said, I can’t wait to see Zack and Cody go down. You know they will.

My name is Kerri and I’ve been a wife to Jay for 15 years (as of July 4th) and a mom to an amazing daughter, Rachel, who lights up my life every day.  I’ve had a number of blogs over the years since 2004, mostly for flexing my writing skills as I hope to publish a teen fantasy novel currently in progress.

My Summer Song

Okay, it’s more like a moan. I do not like the summer. It’s the heat. And the bugs. And the sweating even when you’re sitting still. Give me Spring, Winter, Fall. I’ll take them all. Just let me sleep through summer in an air conditioned house set at 65 degrees and hermetically sealed to keep the bugs out.

Of course, that’s not happening. Our a/c has been on its last legs for a couple of years now, so we don’t run it until the worst part of summer hits - mid July and August, usually. We run fans full blast all night upstairs and as soon as I rise in the morning we get the windows opened and the fans going downstairs to suck in the cooler air. One of the beauties of living in Colorado is that it does cool off, at least somewhat, almost every night. It’s not unusual to have a 20 or even 30 degree drop over night. Thank goodness, because the lovely result of my misery in the heat is I’m the queen of crabby. I just can’t help it, I tell my family.

My hatred dislike of bugs has a number of causes. When I was still in my teens, I watched an episode of ‘Night Gallery’ titled ‘The Caterpillar’ in which a man who desired a colleague’s wife pays an accomplice to put an earwig in the ear of the unsuspecting husband. In a twist of fate, the accomplice accidentally enters the room of the man who hired him and places it in his ear instead. After suffering through horrible pain as the earwig eats through his brain and exits the other side, a doctor called to aid him tells him the ordeal is not over as the earwig has laid eggs en route through his brain and he is now host to all of them. Fun, eh? Now, many years later, I still pull my hair over my ear when I roll onto my side at night. My husband says I do this even in a deep sleep. Hey, those earwigs can climb up on the ceiling. I’ve seen them.

I also was cursed blessed to have grown up with two brothers who thought it hilarious to hold grasshoppers over my face, screaming, “It’s going to spit tobacco all over you!” and rubbing the wings of miller moths with the taunt, “It’s going to get its wing dust all over you!” as if these things were some sort of poison. To me, they were certainly great horrors, to say the least. And they took great pleasure in their evil deeds games. They could not have known they would be forever damaging my psyche or could they?. With some sort of miracle, I avoided a life in a straight jacket but retained my fear dislike of the creeping, crawling things of this world and have broken my husband’s heart with a refusal to ever enjoy a new life in Tahiti or some other tropical place. I can barely endure the bug population here, can you imagine what would happen to me there????

And one more thing, I was a redhead when I was a kid. In fact, until my 30’s. My skin is fair and tender around sunlight, like a vampire’s as it smokes, burning in the UV rays, so I stay out of the sunlight mostly and sunscreen heavily when I must be in it.

So, for those of you who enjoy the heat, the sun, the bugs of summer - go forward and enjoy the next couple of months. As for me and my pale skin, I’ll enjoy my retirement in Alaska during the summer (mostly just mosquitoes is what I hear) and right here in Colorado during the winter.

Hey everyone. I had a great birthday last week. I turned 37, went out to lunch and dinner, and saw Taken. My husband was at scout camp for the whole week, but he gave me the gift of satelite radio in my car just before he left. I know, right?

In case you are wondering, Taken starring Liam Neeson is just my kind of movie. It’s about a man with a very specific skill set who uses those skills to save his daughter. These skills sometimes involve killing or torturing people–yes, just like Jack Bauer. Or the Godfather, or the Professional, or any number of guys who do whatever it takes. Anywho. Like I said, I’m 37, which is old enough to have a few things figured out about myself (such as my penchant for sometimes amoral always awesome assasins/spies/agents/mob bosses). Here’s something else I was thinking about myself today that will not make me popular, but here it is: I don’t like parades. Sure, sure, I love the idea of a parade but the actual standing in the sun, waiting with a crowd, and then watching bands and local officials/celebrities walk/ride by isn’t fun to me. I don’t like any of it. I know you might and I’m glad. I’m glad no one got me a parade for my birthday because I would have hated it.