what lurks beneath (the big red couch)


i've decided that my children, despite my best attempts at teaching them better, are all little piglets.

i have carried this knowledge down deep in my heart, secretly willing it to NOT be true. but the ugly reality was confirmed the other morning when i decided to take our big red sectional couch apart. what i found was deeply disturbing, heinous, nauseating, and managed to chill me to my very core.

apparently, my children have a silent, unwritten code that is STRICTLY adhered to and fastidiously obeyed: if it needs to be thrown away, put in a drawer, folded/wiped/organized/mended/and/or tossed out, then it GOES IN BETWEEN THE CUSHIONS.

grody food? PUT IT UNDER THE CUSHIONS. old magazines you don't want anymore? PUT THEM UNDER THE CUSHIONS. starburst wrappers, trix, paper clips, pencils, hair accessories, broken jewelry, chewed gum, scratched cd's?? yup. UNDER THE FREAKIN' CUSHIONS.

after 90 minutes of tugging, pulling, lifting, swearing, sweating, lugging, and MORE cursing, i had a trash bag full of crap.

some of the items found under the couch included but are not limited to:

popcorn
a barbie head
school library book
laser pointer
marker lids (but no markers....hmmm....)
every candy wrapper known to man
silly putty
hooker-red lipstick
flip flop
70 bazillion bobby pins and hair elastics (KAITLYN: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!)
straws
pair of barbie panties (don't worry. they were mine.)
monopoly money
un-eaten crusts from a pb & j sandwich (ABBEY: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!)
tin foil
roll of stamps


towards the end of the project, i was absolutely certain that i was going to need some post-traumatic-shock-syndrome therapy.

dirty birdies

jared came over to our house. how do we know this?

because our birds were doing THIS:




(we can always count on him to arrange our home decor into compromising positions.)

pc


we had such a lovely time in park city! despite it being a BIT COLD for our southern utah thin-bloodedness, we managed to party like (wanna-be) rockstars.

my most cherished quote came from russ as the girls unloaded from the car one day at lunch, leaving just the two of us sitting inside. "if we leave right now," he said, "we could make it to salt lake city before any of them notice!"

AHHHHHH, family togetherness!! it's our FAVORITE.


the girls favorite part of the day was the turn-down service at night complete with chocolate mint:


of course the hot tub was well used:




and main street was well-strolled:

hb kaitlyn!


hb myspace comments



15 years ago this little lady made me a mother--

hb to my kaitlyn! i love you more than EDWARD! (and that's a LOT.)

i can't wait to see what kind of incredible things you will be doing in the future......married to Rob P.

shallow thoughts: refill mug anxiety


i am not too proud to admit that consuming massive amounts of diet dr pepper is a little white trash. but i've decided that i have a sickness which is incurable AND untreatable--i've accepted and moved on.
what stops me short, though, is the REFILL MUG.

i might be a little biased and i certainly know that there are many high-class, white-collar, $$$ making upstanding citizens who use a mug. but mostly i'd say the mug crowd tends to lean towards the large woman wearing cut-off sweatpants, a really bad perm, and a "G AND R" bumper sticker on her vehicle.

she will generally have a few children in tow, a few left out in the car, a really loud voice, and a penchant for fried foods and gas-station nachos. (oh, wait--that last one is ME.)

she may or may not have night ranger/styx/eminem/pussycat dolls/nickelback playing on the car stereo (oh wait--that last one is ME, too. yikes!) and could possibly have filled the toddler's bottle with coke from the fountain. ( i plead the 5th on that one.)

what is NEVER a variable, though, is the mug. it's almost always a constant. many times it has to be washed out in the nasty little sink next to the burritos and then sniffed for approval.

so when my darling husband brought home a couple of mugs to aid in our soda consumption, i will admit that i said not only no, but HELL NO.

he won , however, by stating that it was cheaper to refill the mugs, he wouldn't make me go in and do it, i could lay down on the car seat while he was filling them so that people wouldn't see me, yada yada yada.

so the other day when i was taking the kids to the pool for the afternoon i faced a moral dilemma: take the refill mugs, face my demons and fill them, thus providing a drink that wouldn't immediately melt in the 100 degree heat OR allow my pride to rule, leave the mugs on the floor of the car where they belong and kick it old school with the paper cups and watered-down ddp within the hour.


i refilled the mugs. and a part of me died that day.


guess who needs therapy? (DON'T answer that question.)

18 years~ 18 reasons

{pic courtesy of gina bina}


june 22nd, 1991--18 years is a really long time to be with somebody! so i present '18 reasons why i love russ':

1. when my hands are cold, you cup them in yours and blow hot air into them to get them warm.

2. you like to sing power 80's ballads in the shower. REALLY LOUD.

3. you always want to sit by me. OVER EVERYBODY ELSE.

4. when you get nervous you tap me somewhere really fast. (most famously standing up in sacrament meeting, singing a song, as you tapped my butt the whole time.)

5. you always hold my hand when we walk somewhere and let me walk through a doorway first.

6. i love that you always have chapstick for me. even when i ask for it 30 times in one day.

7. if i'm carrying packages or grocery sacks or ANYTHING heavy, you take them for me.

8. you look smoking hot in a dress shirt and tie.

9. you spoil me--not because you have to, or because i'll be mad if you don't. but because you genuinely like to.

10. you have a killer smile.

11. you are one of the last of the 'nice guys' and people adore you for it.

12. you always smell TOTALLY YUMMY.

13. you are my favorite traveling companion.

14. when you put on your 'hot cop' sunglasses, i confess that i want you to pull me over. perhaps even cite me.

15. you like to sing the wrong lyrics to a song, hoping i will BUST YOU. (i always do.)

16. you make being a father of 4 girls look like a walk in the park.

17. you are a great kisser! and i love that your lips are weally, weally soft.

18. your love is unconditional.



happy anniversh my love! here is to 18 more!!

{photo by tickled pink photo}

high maintenance

one of my all-time favorite movie quotes is from the movie when harry met sally--

harry burns: "there are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance. you're the worst kind; you're high maintenance but you THINK you're low maintenance."


it's no secret that i am high maintenance. and i've never pretended to be otherwise.

some women pride themselves on being self-sufficient, do-it-themselfers. every set of instructions to put together little timmy's bicycle for christmas or the new backyard swing set is a challenge. something to conquer. me? yeah.....not so much.

i would prefer to be the team player providing the moral support and/or 44 ounce drinks from the convienence store. i can compliment, cheer, encourage, and on rare occasions, provide impatient, sarcastic commentary. which is generally VERY underappreciated.

i've never changed a flat tire, turned on the bbq, or started the lawn mower. i've also never hung a hook, put together a piece of furniture, or changed the oil in my car. WHY would i do that when i have a big, strapping, handsome man to do it FOR ME?

right now i can just hear the outraged cries of feminists the world over., kicking and flailing their unshaven, birkenstock-clad legs. and yes, i can hear all of the "but what if something happens to him and he's not around?"questions.

to which i reply: "that's what a big fat insurance check is for." (or a hit-man if he leaves me for a 23 year-old ex-stripper trophy wife.)

the sad thing is that, to know my husband is to know that getting a multi-million dollar life insurance settlement would be a DOWNGRADE for me. he's a caretaker (something rare and wonderful. don't hate.) and he's really, really good at it.

some of us are meant to take care, and and some of us are meant to be taken care of. i'm gonna take one for the team by doing the latter. and i make NO APOLOGIES for it.




are YOU high maintenance? take this little QUIZ and find out....

the little things~


sometimes i chuckle at how 'all over the map' i can be about certain things--and these yard stakes would be a prime example~



they are nothing expensive or special (hello, lowes!) but for some strange reason, they bring me extreme joy and happiness when i see them in my yard.....


i've had some of them for 3+ years now, and i never grow tired of seeing them--i think i like the whimsical style of lettering.


so, i guess i subscribe to the theory that sometimes it's the little things that make us smile.

baby DOLE.


(baby COLE for those who don't speak 'madi' fluently)

i love this little man--


and, if you speak 'mia' fluently, you will also know that, "him likes boobs."

yes, him DOES.

abbey's hairs





***this is the fancy, sasafras new-do that our jody gave this gal--it was much anticipated and talked about! we ran her to the orthodontist right after she got it cut. when she came out afterwards and asked her how it went she told me "not so good--dr. simister wasn't there today. so i'm afraid he wasn't able to see my hair."





stylin' and profilin'


we have a little ritual, mia & i, when driving out of our driveway--i open up the sunroof and she stands on the middle console until we reach the end of the street. (safety FIRST @ our house!)

my favorite part is that she works it like a beauty queen on a parade float.



major BIGGIE




some of our very favorites came down this weekend--kyle and kami of
no biggie delighted us with their sharp wit and charming personalities. and don't even get me STARTED on their extreme photo-taking & computer-hacking skillz. because then i'll never stop. ("will it evah stop? YO! I DON'T KNOW!!)

we were dazzled beyond compare by the unseasonably cool weather, dinner at the painted pony, and kyle and kami's EXTREME GOOD LOOKS.



thanks, guys for the awesome weekend! all we can say is:



****to see the rock-star account version of our weekend, you must click HERE. you go NOW!

thankful thursday




things i am thankful for this week:





**that we live in such a beautiful place--



**and can go out into the desert with friends....



**and build a huge bonfire & roast s'mores--




**and that glo-sticks from the dollar store can bring such JOY.




**as well as a pair of sunglasses.





**which you wear. EVERYWHERE.






**that i still have a spontaneous bone in my body. and that it will take me with my man on the motorcycle out to coyote gulch art village . and encourage me to eat a late (9:30!! that's practically MIDNIGHT for geriatric eaters like us--) dinner outside in a courtyard under some lights at xetava gardens cafe while listening to somebody play guitar & sing. it was lovely.





**and for other parents to be as fluent in DOPE as i am.

double sigh.



exactly one year ago i was in hawaii......



and i think i should be there today, celebrating my 1-year hawaii anniversh with my man.



sometimes, life is just not fair.


DAMN YOU, RECESSION!!!!!

lessons by lemonade


long ago i made it a personal policy to buy something from every lemonade stand i passed or any girl scout/jr high band member/pageant contestant who darkens my doorway. (cue throngs of 10-18 year olds with stacks of dixie direct cards & world's finest chocolates brochures.)

it doesn't matter if i don't need the product, desire the service, or even LIKE the child selling. they can be the absolute worst salesperson in the world, but when it comes to me, they will ALWAYS CLOSE THE DEAL.

i think it might stem from 1981 mindi who set up a lemonade stand on 700 south on a hot st. george day. and watched car after car drive by--people in my ward, neighbors, teachers. nobody seemed to be in the market for a tepid cup of countrytime lemonade, NOR a mrs. field's recipe cookie in the shape of a care bear. (hello?! ALWAYS a crowd pleaser!)

my superior marketing skilz were on full display that day: i had the hand-painted sign, a checkered table cloth and a huge smile. i was the TOTAL PACKAGE. so what was wrong with these people? had their parents taught them NOTHING? for the love!



after what seemed an eternity (but more like 60 minutes in 11 year-old time) i decided to pack it in, defeated. i had made a whopping $1.10 and, to add insult to injury, i had managed to tear a hole in my new 'mork & mindy' iron-on baseball tee. so this was pretty much looking like the end of the world.

with my head down and my self-esteem even down-ER, i struggled to roll up my sign. it was then that i heard a car door open and shut. i looked up and saw my uncle dale.

he came up, said, "i'll have one glass of lemonade, mims."

i poured him a cup-full and handed it over. he handed me a five dollar bill and then drove off.



i've never forgotten my uncle's small act of kindness--a tender mercy for this young girl. so, to this day, i'll never pass by a stand without stopping and buying something.

which can get pretty spendy on a day like yesterday, when there were two stands on my street. but i consider the 50 cents spent on glasses of lukewarm apple cider and the $2.50 spent on a plate of cupcakes and cookies an investment.

maaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm


i've been a mother for nearly 15 years now. (cue applause.)

i'd like to think that i'm fairly 'mom-savvy'--i've been around the old mothering block a few times and this is NOT my first rodeo.

so it came as quite a shock to me the other afternoon when i realized that it's taken me 5,452 days to come to the conclusion that my children wait to position themselves in the corner of the house which is geographically the furthest away from me. and THEN yell, "MOOOOMMMMMMMM!"

it is a hard & fast rule. and one that is STRICTLY adhered to. i even caught (i kid you not) my second-born standing next to me in the kitchen. not saying a word. and then leaving to go to the basement, where she promptly had a pressing question. that she had to scream my name for.

repeatedly.


now,i know that 'mom' is a title which is both an honor and a privilege. and that there are many women who would give all just to have the opportunity to be labeled as such-- so i am grateful for my opportunity.

what i'm NOT grateful for? the 107th time in a single day in which i've heard that loveliest of terms uttered aloud. and then i would give all just to be called any other name. with possibly a different zip code attached to said name for good measure.

i've often times wondered, if i had a little clicker-counter-thingy, just what kinds of astronomical numbers would be posted at day's end.



anybody care to challenge me?