A Musing Mother 6

The end of the term is looming.  I'm tired of nagging.  But the concert report is due right now.  Too late to turn in all the overdue English homework except for the reading log (which she flung herself on the floor and, in despair, announced she couldn't possibly remember how much she read every day for the entire quarter.  I focused on my eyes.  Do. Not. Roll.) "I don't know what to write about!" she wailed.  Every suggestion I made was struck down.  Her dad came home.  He made similar suggestions and she interrupted him and struck her dramatic roots.  She just turned 13 last week, you know.  Let's not waste any time torturing her parents with the teenage angst. In frustration, I grabbed a paper and wrote an eloquent paragraph on one of the medleys played at the concert.  I was there.  I simply asked her out it made her feel.  "Dramatic," she announced.  Figures. I wrote a lovely snippet about the Phantom of the Opera medley, spouting off the song

I've heard your body craves what nutrients it lacks.  I became a believer when, after taking massive amounts of steroids with my last baby, my Hyperemesis gravidarum slowed to a trickle (no pun intended) and I suddenly needed grapefruit.  Yeah, grapefruit.  I couldn't walk into a store without being assaulted by smells that made me throw up so I kept sending my husband to buy grapefruit in bulk.  It was the folate and vitamin B5.  Needed it. Last week I awoke to a searing pain at my hairline.  The worst headache since my last migraine well over 25 years ago.  I got up and grabbed two Tylenol and went back to bed.  The next day it was present but bearable.  Barely bearable but bearable.  By the end of the day, I was crossing over to wondering if it was the worst PMS of my life or if I'd feel better running into all those orange barrels on the freeway.  I stopped at my favorite cupcake place thinking a craving for a cream cheese filling chocolate cupcake might hit me.  It did

The one on the left is Dr. Darin, one of the 4 (yes, 4) Darins on the surf trip. The woman in the middle (on the surf board) is his wife.  When she was 16. Dr. Darin is middle aged.  Don't tell him that, though. That makes the surf board a little on the disturbing side. The tall, dark and handsome is my husband. The surf board is rented or you'd definitely see an incredibly sexy blond mermaid painted on it.  With fewer curves but darned sexy, nonetheless.   Of course I mean me, what did you think? The wetsuit is not rented. It also is not optional in this water temperature. Surprise expense. Both men are going commando under those suits.

 Scott took Jake on a surf trip to San Diego.  Just four boys ages 8-11, and 6 middle age men other boys ages 35-52.  A boy with his dad. He's smiling on the inside. He really is.  I think they buried themselves to stay warm.   Meanwhile, back in Utah, we were enjoying 80 degree weather... This just warms his mother's heart.  That and having him return with the other boy.  The tall, 6'3" boy.

While the big boys were surfing this weekend, the little boy and the girls had our little party, too.  We went to Park City, Utah and rode on the Alpine Slide. We bought the tickets and stood in a line to get on the chair lift.  For one hour and 10 minutes.  Then we rode the chair lift up the mountain. Then we got off the chair lift midway up the mountain and stood in line for a sled. For 30 minutes. Then we stood in line to sit in the sled before starting. Five minutes from the moment the teenager informed us with absolutely no affect to keep our hands and feet in the sled at all times, use the brake so the sled doesn't flip, and have fun, we arrived at the bottom of the mountain. On the drive home, my 5 year old begged to stop at a local park so he could go down the "real slide."

Yes, I am that geek. I pay full price for every Harry Potter movie. And I'm cheap. But I an prioritize appropriately.

"The camera battery is charged, I just put in a memory card, and the air mattress pump can be unplugged and packed. Do you have sunscreen?" "Yes." "How many pairs of underwear did Jake pack?  Does he have enough shirts and shorts?" "He's fine." "I have two of his favorite pair in the dryer.  Did you get the life jacket out of the boat? "It's on the table." "Right." Silence. "Children's Tylenol!  He gets headaches, you know." "I packed Ibuprofen.  If he gets a headache, he can take one." "No!  He needs Tylenol!"  I start digging through the medicine cabinet. "Here's some chewable children's Tylenol.  Take it.  Take it!  NOW!" "Dad, you better take it.  Mom's getting that crazy look.  Really, just take it." "Jake, do you have a sweatshirt?  Where's your toothbrush?  Stop looking at me like that.  I'm not going to cry.  I just have a sneez

I know you're dying to know what I read this week and what I will read next week.  Because I am that interesting.  In my make-believe world, I am down-right fascinating. Speaking of fascinating, I just (like JUST closed the book) finished "Fallen" by Lauren Kate.  It completely fascinated me.  I picked it up at the school library during a red ribbon guest speaker, Heather Anderson ,  which was 1) amazingly excellent and 2) I'm getting the credit for finding her and I'm drowning in all the accolades.  Okay, I could use more. Apparently, a year ago I talked to another school counselor at another school who told me about this amazing guest speaker, a former Miss U.S.A. finalist, who had the kids captivated.  I said I would love to have her come and speak at my school.  Someone sent her an email (me?) and she called the head counselor (who doesn't like me right now) in September and told her I wanted her to come for Red Ribbon Week.  Am I amazing, or what? I just

This is the boy who makes me laugh. He's funny right out of the blue. He called to ask if someone suffered from brain trauma, what do you do? While trying to act cool and unattached, he really loves his mom and dad. He's a thinker and stoic.  He doesn't know how to be bad. He's respectful and responsible, as any cub scout would say He'll clean the bathroom, mow the lawn, even put dishes away. There's a tough exterior but it isn't deep.  His family knows what's true. He'll take one for the team and he won't complain because that's what he wants to do. But deep down inside he's a superhero and I think he just might fly. He doesn't want attention but wants to do good.  He's already my hero. *Sigh*

This is the girl who once upon a time, was terrified of bugs. Today she's holding a praying mantis and later a colony of slugs. She's overcome her Entomophobia or fear of bugs, it would seem. Now I'm the only one in the house who let's out a little girl scream.

She's not at the kitchen table She's not sleeping in her bed.  I remember I had a teenager but I haven't seen her since June. There's evidence she's been at home and I hope she comes again soon.  A pile of dirty clothes lay tossed aside as if she has no time  Yet somehow she is getting up and making herself look fine.  An empty bowl of cereal proves the girl will not starve. Apprently, she has a life to live and legacy to carve. And then one day I catch a glimpse and scream, "Hey! Are you my daughter? Are they feeding you well?  Do you get enough sleep? Are you drinking enough water?" She wisely ignores me, continues to march and pretends that I'm not there. But later that day, I find her asleep all curled up in the chair. She's a pretty great kid and I embarrass love her a lot. She'll come home again.  I'm the only mother she's got!

Thanks to Rachel , my dear reader friend, I am posting a conversation I had with my husband the same day as my Kohl's incident . So my husband saw my new pants and commented on them. I told him I got them at Kohl's, the same time I bought my bra (I flashed him). "Oh my gosh! It IS peach!" I thought you made that up!" Seriously? He thinks I make up these stories? I don't have the imagination for it!

I'm a good sister.  I have my faults like wishing my sister a happy birthday via facebook and making her pick up my son from school on her birthday then skipping her party, but I'm still an overall good sister. Have you not read about her running skills right here on this blog?  Yes, yes you have.  Because I'm supportive like that.  Just not supportive enough to show up to celebrate her birthday. Speaking of her birthday, she is a younger sister, born to a rather old mother.  My mother was 37 when she had Jene.  Darn near ancient.  Embarrassed the crud out Jene who swore she would never do that.  I'd be offended since I had my last baby at the ripe old age of 39, but I figure we're pretty much even since I gave her a facebook birthday wish and called it good. One nice thing my sister and I have in common is our youngest boys who love to play with each other.  This comes in handy when one or the other works. Speaking of work, we also share a common career choice.  We

I need a new bra.  I didn't think it would be very difficult.  I had a couple of hours without kids and a 30% off coupon for Kohl's.  Not to mention they had clearance galore and I have a daughter's birthday to plan.  So I perused the store, gathering all the things I thought might work before I hit the foundations department.  That's code for bra and underwear.  I don't want anything fancy.  Basic white bra with slight padding.  Full coverage, too.  Even the boobless have something to slide out the sides.  Did I mention I'm an A cup?  Not a push up bra.  Not a polka dot bra.  Not a sports bra.  Just an every day bra. 45 minutes later, I came up with one A cup.  That's right.  One.  It was peach.  Disappointed but still elated that it was on clearance (and I still had my 30% coupon), I took my selection to check out.  Apparently, the young, pretty thing had a script and I just might have moved her off kilter.  "Did you find everything all right?" &

Momentous day today.  World War I is officially over today.  The treaty of Versailles included an agreement that Germany pay reparations for the war they waged.  So the payment began shortly after the treaty. Unfortunately, the cost of the devastated country was too much.  The citizens were starving to death and the debt contributed to the Great Depression. Within a short time, a man with a stupid haircut and funny little mustache rose to power with fantastic promises, breaking the treaty by halting payments, manufacturing war machines, and invading Poland which surprisingly, ended the Great Depression).  Six years later WWII ended and payments resumed for awhile.  Then Germany became two separate entities with East and West and payments ceased. On November 9, 1989, Gorbachev ordered the wall to come down, which it did.  Reparation payments for World War I resumed, however greatly increased.   Today, Sunday, October 3, 2010, the last reparation payment is expected.  Now go have some br

I'll be nearly impossible to live with for the next year. USU - 31 BYU - 16 It's a good thing I am a mature adult. Otherwise, I might be doing a taunting dance around my husband right now.

It's exhausting pillaging ships all day.