A Musing Mother 6

The new year is fast approaching. I am starting early with my resolutions.  Feel free to emulate my goals.  I've spent a good deal of time precisely whittling them down to the following: 2011 New Year's Resolutions 1. Become preoccupied with the body, and make a long list of symptoms. Make them sound very clinical and professional... 2. BLAME your boss, your spouse, your partner, your neighbor, your kid. THEY are responsible for your miseries. 3. Feel trapped. You couldn't possibly declare your own independence without hurting someone's feelings. 4. Overeat. Rationalize and eat! Eat an insulated wall around yourself. Diet for a few days and say it doesn't work for you. 5. Self-pity. No matter what, feel sorry for yourself. Agonize over things about which no one cares. 6. Don't ever try. That way nobody can really accuse you of failure. You can always say, "But I could have done it." 7. Stress how shy you are. Insist that the world must

2:00 a.m. - Meow until someone lets her outside. 5:30 a.m. - Come back inside.  Meow until someone reminds her where the food has been kept for the past 9 years. 6:00 a.m. Go to sleep. 2:00 p.m. Stretch.  Go back to sleep. 6:15 p.m. Rub against the lady's and the red head's foot while they are eating.  Torment dog. 6:25 p.m. Sleep. 10:00 p.m. Find where lady is reading.  Lay on her book.  Sleep. 12:00 a.m. Meow until someone reminds here where the food has been kept for the past 9 years. 12:05 a.m. Sleep until 2:00  When I get to pick my next life, I'll take Ginger's.

I just finished watching "The Middle" and the Christmas episode.  It completely cracks me up simply because I am so Frankie Heck.  How many times have I made a commitment to simplify Christmas and stop trying to make every present equal in size and number dispersed for children?  Can't have one child feeling like s/he is less loved because of the amount spent/size of present.  And yes, as a matter of fact, Virginia, I DO count the number of each color of Hershey Kisses I put into each stocking.  I'd like to add a few more stresses to my long list of Christmas complaints.  One is occurring right this minute.  One of my children is hanging 6 inches from my face and not moving because she absolutely must have glue stick for a gift she is making for her brother.  I am expected to drop everything I am doing and run to the craft store and get them RIGHT NOW.  1) I am not leaving the comfort of my pajamas any earlier than I must (dinnertime) and 2) I spent an hour and a half

I have serious concerns about my honesty.  Is it lying when I stay silent?  For instance, every year a friend sends a Christmas card addressed to Mr. and Dr. Scott Taylor.  The first year I thought it was a joke.  The second year I started to wonder.  The third year it would have been awkward to correct him.  I assume the last time I talked to him was when I was in my last semester of graduate school and getting ready to apply for the doctoral program.  I was rejected because of my lack of experience but I guess I haven't talked to him since then.  And so it's been going on for almost 20 years. I thought my dishonesty by silence was an isolated incident, but no. Last night I finally quit my part-time job at Western Governor's University.  I gave my regrets but explained that I have too many priorities vying for my time.  (Like blogging).  Thanks for the memories and goodbye.  I got an email this morning from one of my friends from the office (by "office,&qu

Letter to Santa: Santa will you do a (u) favor and ... Uh, not that I don't believe in Santa Claus because I do but I could sure use a little help here. Anyone?  Anyone?

This is called "SNOW."  Let's all say it together very slowly. S-N-O-W.  Very good.  Above the snow is what we refer to as CLOUDS.  Lunar eclipse was clearly really awesome.   For people in other parts of the country. At least I don't have to dream of a white Christmas.

5:30 a.m. Get off good sofa before the man finds she's been sleeping on it or 5:30 a.m. Come in from garage or outside and keep man company while he stretches. 5:55 a.m. Man leaves.  Get back on good sofa. 6:30 a.m. Hear tall girl getting breakfast.  Sneak off good sofa. Be inconspicuous. It's cold outside. 7:45 a.m. Drink from cereal bowls.  7:45 - 8:05 a.m. Take every opportunity to attempt escape out front door.  Don't go out back door.  It's cold and fenced. 8:15 - 8:25 a.m. Torment cat until she gives up and hides under a bed. 9:15 a.m. Follow lady around the wherever she goes. Camp out in front of bathroom door while she showers.  Sit by her while she folds clothes.  Follow her into every room while she puts clothes away. 10:30 a.m. Lady realizes dog needs to be outside.  Puts dog outside. 10:31 a.m. Take care of business. 10:32 a.m. Inspect yard.  Every inch must sniff. 10:46 a.m. Run 11:15 a.m. Stop running.  Inspect again. 12:00 p.m. Bark at mail truck. 2:30 -

6:40 - 15 year old wakes me up to take her to early morning seminary. 6:42 - Driving to high school, realize I don't have on shoes. 6:44 - Check if I put on pants. 7:00 - Wake 13 year old up. 7:45 - Take 10 year old to school. 7:55 - Junior high carpool. 8:15 - Eat breakfast and lounge with 5 year old. 9:10 - Clean out 5 year old's backpack.  See calendar.  I'm scheduled to help in class today.  In a half hour. 9:15 - Drop off 5 year old at kindergarten. 9:17 - Jump in shower. 9:19 - Jump out of shower 9:39 - Run into school to volunteer. 9:41 - 5 year old kisses me.  This repeats every 3 minutes for the duration of my stay. 9:42 - Tape candy canes onto books. 9:45 - Listen while the teacher talks about the letter "q." 10:00 - Help children write the letter "q" along with words that start with "q." Explain to little boy that Christmas does not begin with "q" and isn't pronounced "Quistmas." 10:30 - Teacher asks me to do

Jill is the slice of home baked pie you long for. Her dad was a farmer. His dad was a farmer. On a hot summer day Jill would call me up to go floating down the canal or ride the slick rocks with the stream into a barely thawed pool of water. She's also the girl I called one day when I was bored and offered to drive two hours and try out this new thing called "Bungee Jumping." We did although I can't remember why . The first year after my college graduation I found myself particularly low on pride.  First of all, I was a college graduate working as a sales clerk.  Too late I discovered that a bachelors degree in sociology is equal to a high school diploma and, in some cases, a G.E.D. and got you hired at JC Penney trying to upsale with a colorful scarf.  On top of it, I'd been dumped.  It wasn't that he was the love of my life.  In fact, it was quite the opposite.  He started planning the wedding aloud and I freaked out, pointing out that we'd only bee

I stayed late Tuesday to cover for a colleague.  I had something to tell my boss and caught her just as she was closing her office door behind her.  "Where are you going?" "Temple Square to see the lights with the youth in my ward." "Dress warm.  It's going to snow." "My face aches after it gets really cold.  Is that an old age thing?" "Are you seriously asking me ?  Why would I know?" Just to clarify, we are the same age.  Between you and me - I'm going to go ahead and schedule her first colonoscopy.  Because I care.

Scott's brother, Steve, joined the Peace Corp once upon a time.  He committed 26 months to serve in whatever country they needed him.  He ended up going to the Republic of Georgia.  Not the southern state where you eat okra and grits but the country formerly included in the USSR.  I think there was some relief he didn't go to Siberia. Steve taught English in a village school.  He did quite well for well over a year.  Then he got a hole in his lung.  Apparently, this is a bad thing and Steve came home for a painful surgery.  Once repaired, the Peace Corp wouldn't take him back.  Something about being a liability.  We all told Steve how sorry we were but his mother was secretly ecstatic.  Steve then informed us all that he needed to "tie up some loose ends," packed his suitcase and flew back to Georgia.  He then called his mother within the next 2 weeks.  She could hardly hear him through the background noise of a very loud, very Georgian party.  Toasts, laughter, v

The five year old can read.  It's adorable to watch him sound out all the words in the "Bob" books.  He can also write.  He's been working hard on a letter to Santa.  We've been working hard to decipher it and read it phonetically.  We're almost there.  He can also count.  Mostly.  Usually up to ten.  Except he skips ten and goes to sixteen, back to fourteen, and then who knows from there. During dinner my kids and I were sharing counting stories.  Apparently, my ten year old could count to 100 by the time he was three.  In fact, 3 was a banner year for him.  Most of his accomplishments (in retrospect) happened "when I was 3."  My weirdly photographic memory places me outside with two older girls, sometime before I moved to the small, unincorporated town.  This places my age somewhere around 5 or 6.  The older girls were having a competition to see who could count the highest.  I wanted to join in, too.  I already knew how high I could count.  It was

Did I tell you I got a Kindle for my birthday?  I got a Kindle for my birthday.  I downloaded all kinds of books off NetGalley.com then wondered if I could download my scriptures, too.  I've seen a couple of Ipads at church as well as Ipods.  Although not user friendly, I was able to download my scriptures as well as LDS General Conference talks.  Then I went to church feeling pretty technologically inclined.  Turns out I'm way behind on the trends. During Sunday school, I counted no less than 10 ipods where my fellow congregation were reading their assigned scriptures.  In fact, they were quickly finding their references while I was still fumbling with the different buttons, changing the font, format, and squinting like a little old man. After church I stopped to talk to my friend, Courtney.  She was just typing into her ipod, "tithing settlement" and then, with a tap here and there, changed the day and time and typed in, "Jaxon's scouts." "Do you

What I really want to do while driving home from work/at work: a. Referee a fight over the telephone b. Try to understand a crying child over the telephone c. Yell at a child for untuning another child's viola because she is angry at her d. Get hung up on e. Just drive and listen to the tunes. What I really want to do for the first hour after coming home from work: a. Teach myself how to tune a viola; an instrument I had never touched before 6 months ago. b. Tune the viola without a tuned piano or metronome. c. Chase a neighbor child out of house since children can not play. d. Clean up the fort of chairs and blankets in living room and discover popcorn kernels in the carpet fibers. e. Read a good book. Things I never thought I'd hear myself say: a. "Who do you think cleans it up, the tooth fairy?" b. "Get off my head, please." c. "What is that smell coming from your backpack?" d. "Just use your shirt." e. "Dear, tonight is 'Youn