Getting Back to "Normal"

I'm waiting for my life to get back to normal. I've had another absence again, but with good reason. My dear step dad passed away on September 17th. Art has been my step dad for 25 years. Even when a person is considered elderly, even when their health is failing, I still don't think you are ready for it. He was "terrible good" until the end.

The Patriot Guard Riders escorted us to the cemetery on their motorcycles and saluted Art, an army veteran and a Harley Davidson rider when he could ride. They made a path to his final resting place, while his grandsons carried him in the casket he made himself.

There's a lot of deep thinking when someone close to you passes away. It's as if everything has paused for you but life is still running in fast motion for everyone else. You contemplate what is really important and realize there are many things that force you to lose focus on them - like work, school, and fatigue.

I've been thinking a lot about these things. Not the fatigue part but the work and school part. This posting has been so serious - not like me. I'm trying to get back to normal. These things help me:
This is Ali with her friend Rob before their Homecoming Dance.
This is me and Holly in the back, KyAnn, Jackie, Lisa and Shauna in the front. We had a Girls' Night Out and ate at an Italian restaurant and talked about blogging. It was nice to get out and laugh with some of the funniest and nicest "girls" on the planet.

Okay, now that I got you caught up, I can't leave you without a funny story. I was shopping in my second home, aka Wal-Mart, when an elderly lady asks me if I knew the store very well. I know the store better than I should and she asked me where the tampons and Kotex would be. I told her they were on the other side of the pharmacy on the right. She turns to her husband and says, "See Harold. I was close but no cigar." Don't worry, I didn't laugh out loud.

Lessons From Drama

So, I told you about my sucky letter that I got on Saturday. I was a bit emotional about that on the weekend but I'm good now. Just had to get it out of my system. I'm still a little bitter. I could spew out some sarcasm, I'm sure.

Saturday, as I sat at my desk and cried, my wonderful 17 year old daughter Ali walked in and asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't even get an interview for the position at her school that I really wanted. I had told her about it before and she thought it would be cool if I got a job at her school. I told her they probably had someone in mind for the job already.

My precious daughter put her arms around me and said, "It's okay, Mom. In theater we learn that sometimes people are already picked out for parts. And even when you do your best and you try out for a part and you don't get it, it doesn't mean you weren't good enough. It just means the part was already given to someone else. There's nothing you could have done to change it. You're still a good actor and there will be other parts."

Really? Is she mine? How did I get a daughter so wonderful? My 19 year old son, Seth, came in and hugged me and said, "I love you, Mom." Mimi just came in and hugged me. My husband of course, said everything right and encouraged me. The dog reminded me that there was still ball to play and sometimes it gets stuck under the couch and you need someone to get it for you. There's a deep analogy there for you. My true friends have dived under the couch for me this week.

I'm feeling the pressure of improving my skills so I am not at the bottom of the totem pole but schooling is really taking a big bite out of my time. I love studying graphic design but it sure is hard having much energy for anything much after that. So I'm trying to decide if I need to cut to one day a week of school or what. That was another reason I was looking forward to having summers off, so I could fill in some more time with school. Well, I'll keep reading my fortune cookies and see what life has in store for me. Any advice?

When I Get Time

When I get time, I'm going to tell you all about my wonderful husband, who just had a birthday. And I'm going to post a picture of him. But it has to be perfect, so I haven't had the chance to do it yet.

When I get time, I'm going to tell you that I broke my foot by a freak vacuuming accident. I'll post pictures about that, too. And when I get time I'll tell you I hired a cute gal to clean my house, because it's way to risky for me.

Speaking of risks, when I get time I'm going to share my opinion about people who take risks and expect others to risk their lives to rescue them. Stupid, stupid, irresponsible people.

And when I get time, I'm going to tell you how one of my biggest peeves in life is death - well, when people say, "He died doing what he loved the most." How do you know he didn't really like living and he's really peeved that he did something so stupid and now he's dead? If I choke on cheesecake, please do not resuscitate. I'm just giving you permission now to let me die doing what I love the most.

And when I get time, I'll tell you that my dad just moved in with us and we weren't expecting him for another week and that's why I was vacuuming when it attacked me.

And when I get time, I'll post a picture of my hubby in a Speedo when we were dating because that was the style in Australia. And when I get time I'll tell you I could barely look at him in his Speedo because.....no time to explain that.

And when I get time, I'll tell you it's our 21st Anniversary this Sunday and tell you how he has become the perfect man and I'm so glad we've made it over some hurdles.

And when I get time, I'm going to read your blog from the very beginning so I know why your blog is named what it is, or just because I like to laugh for that long. And now that I have a broken foot, I can't go walking and I need my abs exercised.

And when I get time I'm going to tell you my opinion about how I thought slavery was banned a long time ago, but some people hiring illegal aliens for pittance didn't get that memo.

And when I get time, I'll show off some Photoshop skills I've been learning in school. Because I need my pictures to look perfect.

And when I get time, I'm actually going to write on my other blog and share pictures that need to be Photoshopped because they have faded.

And when I get time, I'm going to leave you the funniest, most awesome comment on your blog. Wait! There's always time for that! Even if I don't post, I can still visit you. I'm just a good friend like that.

Enquiring Minds Want to Know

I had some questions asked of me from "Anonymous." Since anonymous could be a number of people, I'm not sure who I am answering. Male, Female? Mean, Nice? I think if I was going to ask myself questions I would have asked something like, "What is your secret to good humor?" or something along those lines.

I was asked what Jared (my hubby) did for me for Mother's Day and why didn't I post anything about that. Well, my darling husband got me some flowers and a box of chocolates. Not just any box of chocolates.....Lindt Lindor. And once again I accused him of trying to make me fat(ter) and he always says, "I don't care if you get fat. I love you." I know. Isn't he a jewel? He really is good to me. He then slept for most of the afternoon and cooked frozen fish for dinner (which I didn't think was very blog worthy, in fact I was a little annoyed he slept all afternoon) and then we went to see my mom who lives about six miles away. We came home and he called his mum in Australia on Skype. I elaborated my children's activities because they didn't do anything for my birthday and I made a big deal about it in one of my posts, so I thought I would update whether Santa was coming this year. I feel I do so much for them, so the least they could do is make me feel special!

I probably didn't blog about that because I try to keep my blog posts somewhat short. I know people are really busy - including me. I work full-time as a secretary for our school district for wonderful people who have moved out of the high school special ed. programs and want to work.

I then go to school three nights a week studying graphic design. You know how some kids know what they want to be when they grow up and they work towards that goal and know exactly what they were put on earth for? That wasn't me. I never knew what I wanted to be except a wife and a mother. My natural talent would be in visual art, but my insecurities have never made me a competitive person and I took my talent for granted "because there are a lot of other people out there who are better than me." I know, that sounds really dumb. Just understand to be artistic you have to have a little bit of a dark or weird side. We all think differently and that's what makes the world a great place. I went into graphic design because of my love for creative things but unfortunately my creative juices are nothing but a fine dust at the moment. Which brings me to the third question.

I have another blog called "Spiritually Speaking." I share my conversion story and other things spiritual but it has been sorely neglected. A friend asked me why I separate the two and my answer is: I don't want to target my readers to just LDS people. I have a lot of friends who don't share my faith and I don't want them to feel as if they can't read my blog because they can't relate. I'm not the kind that can just sit down and start writing and it turns out wonderful. I think very deeply about what I share on that blog and I know I'm in the middle of telling about my friend's conversion. I then have my mission to London to share and lots of wonderful experiences since then. Why don't I just do it? Well, I'm taking Photoshop in school right now and a lot of my pictures need a little "lighting" and touch ups. They have faded with time, just like my other blog.

And the fourth and final question - yes, Anonymous, you are appreciated. I know some bloggers write comments to their commentor comments. I rarely go back to a blog to check to see if the blogger has commented to my comment and I assumed other people were like that too. Though some comment on comments on a regular basis. I sometimes go to my commentor's blogs and answer their comment there. I'm usually a very good commentor. If you don't have a blog, sign it "Anonymous in the blue hat" or something and I will know you from the other anonymous people.

Nothing funny today, friends. I'll work on it though.

The Santa Spy

"Mom, do you believe in Santa?" asks Mimi.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?" I say.

"Well, I'll get to that point in a minute," she says, sounding much more mature than she is. "Do you remember the present I gave Santa?"

"No. What was it?"

"It was a painted piece of wood. Remember, it said 'Merry Christmas' and 'Joy to the World' on it?" You might remember this from "Redneck & Green Season."

"No. What about it?"

"Well, the other day I asked Dad for some batteries and I looked in the place in your closet that the batteries are always kept and I found the present I gave Santa."

"So do you think Dad is Santa Claus?" Don't even go there after my letter to the Easter Bunny.

"Also, why do you have a letter that I wrote to Santa in your dresser?" she asks accusingly.

"What do your friends think, do they believe in Santa?" I say, slightly diverting her question. I don't think we ever had an official talk with the older two, I think it was just understood after awhile. The parent handbook never said you had to have this conversation - just the "birds and bees" one.

"Well, most of them believe in Santa - except Clara. And Santa's handwriting looks a lot like your handwriting," she says. I'm thinking, "Yes! Proof that mom is the only Santa." After thinking about that one, if Jared were to write the name tags out on the gifts, the kids would think Santa delivered the gifts to the wrong house. I typed all his papers for school, so I can say that. I can hear them saying, "Who's this present for? It says 'SCILHT'" Yep. Must belong to some kid from Scandinavia.

"So what do you believe?" I ask.

She says frustratingly, "I don't know what I believe anymore." So, I wasn't ready to have that talk anymore than I was ready to explain the tampon commercials. I think we had a subject change, which wouldn't surprise me because that's how Mimi's brain works.

Do you remember when you "knew" about Santa? I think in 5th grade I was still wondering. Then a friend said, "You don't still believe in Santa, do you? HA! It's your parents, Doofus!" My response, "Of course I knew that, duh." Then swallowed hard and tried to hold the tears back. I'm not a confrontational kind of person so I never approached my parents about this subject, or the birds and the bees. Gosh, so much info in 5th grade - and you get periods, too?! Which ironically we referred to as Santa being here.

We were always told if we quit believing in Santa, he'll quit coming. So even if we knew it was our parents we didn't admit it. It always baffled me how he would get into our house when we didn't have a chimney. That really bothered me. The answer was Santa has a magic key and that's how he gets in all houses. Still disturbing that someone has access to your house like that. I might have to get Seth or Ali to give her the talk, I don't think it would be as traumatic. Then they can add, "Don't tell them you know" and it will be a silent understanding.

Happy Mother's Day

First, Happy Mother's Day tomorrow to all my wonderful friends (that would be you!) Speaking of identities in my last post, wow. Becoming a mother certainly changes your identity, doesn't it? For the better, of course. What would we do without the title? I forget who I even was B.C. (Before Children).

I'm going to try a little new something on my blog, besides Twisted Tale Tuesday, which I failed to write this last week. I'm going to have a "Name That Tune Monday." Some friends and I will be singing a few lines of a song by video and the first one to name the song title and/or original artist (specified) I will send a little prize to. I hope you have fun with it. I will post it at 10:00 AM Mountain Standard Time. It will be so fun to hear from you.

Today my hubby, Jared, and I went to an antique store and I found the perfect ring. I tried it on and it was like Cinderella trying on her glass slipper. My ring size is hard to find (5 1/2) and it was my size and beautiful. Since I've lost so much weight my other wedding set doesn't fit. So, darn, I had to get a new ring. I've been looking at rings with three stones on them, this one I like because it has three sides which can be symbolic of: my three kids or God, Jesus and Holy Ghost. The two diamonds can be a symbol of me and Jared. What do you think?

Monday Mourning

I'm kinda sad today. The kids had a day off of school and my daughter, Ali, went on an official date for lunch. Why does that make me sad? It's just another reminder that she is growing up. This is my sweet little buddy who used to help me make my bed before she started kindergarten. She would run up the stairs and I would chase her pinching her bum saying "birdies gonna get your bum" or I would smack her little bottom. Then one day I was in front and I felt this tiny little hand smack my bum.

This is my little one who I nicknamed "Oodle Ali" taken from Disney's Robin Hood when the fox always said, "Ooh Dah Lolly!" We shortened it to "Oodle" and sometimes she will still answer to it. I also called her "Goofy Lou" and "Giggle Nugget" when she was being silly.

Now she's driving and going on dates. How did this happen? If all my kids were like her I could have had six. Genetics say otherwise.

Johnny is a Sociopath

When I was younger, not that long ago, I used to think you had to befriend everyone. I thought if you weren't friends with everyone, that made you judgemental. I don't think it was until I went to London and met some very strange characters that my eyes were opened.

I was very sad when I asked Ali (16) about one of her friends I'll call "Sue". She announced that they weren't friends anymore. "WHAT?" I love this girl! Ali then tells me, "She's making some bad decisions and I don't agree with her, so we're not friends anymore."

I'm seriously broken-hearted. This is the funnest, bubbliest, craziest girl ever. "What is she doing?"

"She's guaging her ears, drinking and making out with a new boy every weekend. I don't want people to think I'm like that," she said, confidently.

So here comes the judgement thought: "Sue needs a good friend like Ali now more than ever." Here comes the realistic thought: "A girl's gotta protect her reputation, and Sue knows better."

We had a family night and discussed an article in "The Friend", a children's magazine. I was reading it when all of those thoughts came to me. The story was about a boy who made friends with another boy who no one would play with in which I add as if part of the story (plus I was testing to see if anyone was listening) "because Johnny was a weirdo who grew up to be a pedophile." They were listening! My teens laughed. It went directly over my 8 year old's head.

"Does it say that?" Seth asks.

Of course, I'm cracking myself up hysterically. So sad, but I do laugh at my own jokes. But here's the point: You don't have to be friends with everyone. We have a little feeling inside that gives us alarms for certain people and there's a reason for that. You can be polite to everyone, but Johnny could be a sociopath, so don't go to the movies with him!

When Good Goes Bad

I've been contemplating whether I should write this post for a couple of reasons. One: I have no reason to complain. Two: It may seem arrogant. Three: Both topics are top secret. Please take it for what it is....embarrassing.

First: I've lost a significant amount of weight. I won't tell what my weight was or what I am now, but I went from a tight 14 to a loose 8. When people haven't seen me for awhile they are shocked. I didn't carry that amount of weight for long but long enough to do something about it. People ask me what my secret is. This is the bad part. I cringe when people ask me. I don't know how to answer that question. There was no secret. There's no pill. I'm not exercising my butt off. There's no diet plan. I'm not anorexic.

Why this is good gone bad? It's embarrassing to me because I don't have a great answer. I don't know if what I'm doing is healthy or not. I started off walking and weight training with Kevorki-Annie. Then I started work full-time and couldn't weight train with K.A. anymore because her night schedule was booked. I continued walking and when I took breaks at work I walked. Then I somehow lost my appetite. I know this is every woman's dream and it was mine. I started feeling nauseated and really had to force myself to eat. Since I wasn't hungry, I made wise choices. Then I came up with a philosophy: I'm not active at night and therefore I don't need the caloric intake. I eat my "large" meal at lunchtime and only have a snack or small meal at dinner. I haven't deprived myself of anything - treats, chocolate, etc.

It's a complicated answer and I hate explaining. It's a little embarrassing when people are shocked and make a fuss, but I'm happy to be 7 lbs under my goal weight and would like to lose another 7 and stop. I also am embarrassed because I got to the weight I did and you will never see before shots! Do I think others should be embarrassed of their weight? Absolutely not. But I feel I was very unhealthy and could see myself heading for onset Type 2 diabetes, heart disease or something else. My sweet husband says he liked me with more of a booty.

When good is bad again: (Co-workers, say nothing.) There is a sweet lady that works at my work who is going through a very rough time. She is so wonderful to the clients in spite of her personal life in shatters. I know she struggles financially in this bad time and I felt impressed to anonymously give her money. I put $20 in an envelope and put her name on it.

I am blessed and my income is extra - I only work for the health benefits. My husband is self-employed - need I explain about benefits. We're not rich but we live within our means, our needs and wants are taken care of and we don't have any debts except the mortgage. This sweet lady comes into our office and asked if we knew anything about the envelope given to her. The secretaries said no and asked why. She said, "Someone gave me a very generous gift and I wanted to thank them." Then her eyes filled with tears and she said if we find out tell them thank you for her.

Why this is bad? I should have given more. $20 is nothing and I should have dug deeper. Even though she was grateful - I feel bad that I didn't give more. The purpose of sharing this story is you may have the opportunity for service, so don't forget to dig deep.

Okay, so another freakin' serious post. I think I need to ban myself from blogging under the influence of melancholy. I'm still trying to channel my "Carol Burnett" and put away this "Socrates" (or is it actually Confusius - "He who stand on toilet is high on pot.")

Disabilities and Psychology

I've been absent for almost a week. Work, physical therapy, children, sleep, more therapy, voice lessons, homework, piano practice.....you know the routine. By the end of the day I feel my eyes are glazed over.

That kinda reminds me of something funny that happened at work. This light blue eyed, blonde, 30-ish man comes in and tells me he has changed banks and needs to give us the new routing numbers. I got the form and said, "Okay, if you can just fill out the highlighted parts we can get that taken care of for you." Then he said, "I can't fill it out, I'm visually impaired." Without thinking I say, "Okay. I can fill it out for you." Then I realize (and how can I forget after five weeks) I can't write very well with my left hand. Then I laugh thinking we were quite the pair. So I got another secretary to fill it out for him.

I learned a great new word from my SIL, Sheila. Rumination. I can't get that word out of my head now. (If you already know the definition of that word you will find that sentence somewhat humorous.) If you don't know the definition it means: "contemplation or reflection, which may become persistant and recurrent worrying or brooding." In other words, it means to chew on the same thought over and over.

It sounds a lot like "brain worms", which is when you can't get a song out of your head. I think I get those everyday. Everyday is a new song. That sounds like one of those quotes you put on your wall.....profound. (Go away, Martha!) Sometimes commercials or songs that I really don't want to think about enter my mind. Remember this song? My song recently has been that wonderful 80's song "Always Something There To Remind Me." I apologize now if it is now stuck in your head, too. "And I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of me - whoa whoa whoa." It just doesn't have the same effect when you read the words.


The amazing brain. When you're trying not to think about something why are there so many things to keep reminding you? Is this coincidence? Is it a sign? Is it the universe being cruel? The cure for rumination is distraction, do something to change your focus. With my luck, it will backfire and cause a Pavlov's dog effect. Just like I crave Chips Ahoy when I hear "Don't You Want Me Baby". The media is sending subliminal messages.

Mimi and I were in the car when Avril Lavine's song "Chill out, what ya yellin' for..." song came on. Mimi says, "That song reminds me of putting on make up in the car." Two summers ago Mimi, Ali, niece Sadie from NC and I drove to Yellowstone. We were listening to Avril Lavine's CD while Ali and Sadie put their make up on. Then Mimi said, "There's another song that you sing that reminds me of noodles." I don't dare ask.

So today's song was "Stayin' Alive" from the Bee Gees. We were getting the run down on CPR and Jan said you were supposed to compress the chest to that beat. So of course we start singing it. And there it is, still stuck in my head. Do you have any songs stuck in your head?

"Sticks & Stones.....

may break my bones but names will never hurt me." Things only hurt your feelings if you let them, right? It's hard in some situations not to feel hurt, but in reality you've given your consent. Easy to say, hard to live.

Affirmations are thoughts we tell ourselves that are positive. Even if we don't believe them initially, we hope that we'll tell ourselves enough times that we'll eventually prove the statements true. Like: "I am successful." "People like me." "I love food that tastes like cardboard. Cardboard is yummy." "I am soooo good-lookin'." My recent one: "Who needs intestines anyway?"

So what do you do with the junk that creeps into your head? Last week I had a lot of "stinkin' thinkin'" which is what I call thoughts that bring you down. My husband asked me what was wrong one day and I answered that I have a lot of stinkin' thinkin'. He then begged me to share my thoughts. You know that didn't happen. So I forced my thoughts upon him and he reminded me that I was a princess and didn't need to worry about such things. He was my prince and was going to make things all better. That didn't happen either. Those affirmations keep creeping into my thoughts.

Back to stinkin' thinkin' and reality. And chocolate. And anti-depressants. And thumbs while you're in fetal position on the closet floor. Just kidding. I only do one of those mentioned (maybe two). So here's what I think about stinkin' thinkin': Do what you gotta do to get through it because time definitely brings things into perspective. Then you feel really bad because you now have the thought, "I'm a stupid, brainless idiot for thinking that way." My advice (because I have so much insight ;-) is: Surround yourself with positive things. Wear colors you love, listen to music that lifts you up, talk to people who love you and read blogs that make you laugh.

The Big Video In the Sky

When I started this blog it was a creative outlet for me to share my sense of humor and my observations of this crazy life. A few times I got off track and went a little deep. Not that it is unusual for a blonde to have deep thoughts, it happens occasionally. Is it a coincidence that the weather is awful and I feel like spewing a thousand swear words covered in poison? That would be totally out of character for me and probably wouldn't make me feel any better. But I'll share a few more deep thoughts until I go back and read this in a week and ask, "What was I thinking?" and then delete it.

Have you ever done anything so bad, you feel like you may as well be naked in front of a crowd? That nothing short of self-flagellation with a cat-of nine-tails will make you feel better? You probably haven't because most of my friends are really righteous and have no reason to feel that level of guilt.

Have you ever done anything so stupid that while logic was screaming at you, you thought you knew better? And then you were left looking like a fool? Probably not.

So what do you think about the "big video in the sky?" Some people believe everything you ever did in your life will be flashed before your eyes at judgement, good and bad. I don't believe that. In the Doctrine and Covenants 58:42 it says, "Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I , the Lord, remember them no more." Maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part. When you think about all the things that humans have forgiven for, even the worst sin of murder, why would we doubt the Lord would forgive us? Maybe because self-flagellating feels better and we feel we have paid some sort of penance.

I'm hoping my "big video in the sky" will be mostly a comedy mixed with a little drama, suspense, music and maybe offer some inspiration. What do you think about the "big video in the sky?"

Mourning the Loss of a Friend

Sorry, another deep thinking post. It's not like me, I know, but my funny bone is sprained at the moment. I'm mourning off and on about the loss of a friend. Not to death, but the end of a friendship. I don't lose friends very often and I tend to take it hard when I do.

I heard a speaker talk about friendships and it really changed my perspective. Certain people come into your life at certain times when you need that kind of friend. Sometimes, friends move on or you've outgrown the friendship or had a falling out. Instead of directing bad feelings towards them, be appreciative of the things you've learned from them or what they offered you at the time when you were friends. There is something to learn from everyone.

I want to include the lyrics of a song that I love from the musical "Wicked." I can dedicate this to everyone who has been in and out of my life:

FOR GOOD

I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn.
And we are led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them and we help them in return.
Well I don't know if I believe that's true
but I know I'm who I am today because I knew you......

Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun, like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood.
Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good.

It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime, so let me say before we part
So much of me is made of what I learned from you, you'll be with me like a handprint on my heart.
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine by being my friend....

Like a ship blown from it's mooring by a wind off the sea. Like a seed dropped by a skybird in a distant wood.
Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you I have been changed for good.

And just to clear the air I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for.
But then, I guess we know there's blame to share and none of it seems to matter anymore.

I do believe I have been changed for the better, because I knew you, I have been changed for good.