Friday, February 27, 2009

Another Confession

Alright, I tried to win tickets to the MC Hammer Vanilla Ice Dance Party again. It was tonight on our way up to our "Evening with a General Authority".

Here's the scene---Jon and I have our very drab and conservative church clothes on and are flying down the road in the van bus. The kids are locked and loaded in there with us. Eliza is complaining about her situation strapped in the seat. Simon is telling Jon how I was laughing when we danced in the kitchen today and then I hear over the radio caller 10 can win tickets to the concert.

I pull out my phone and Jon whips out his lucky phone and I'm dialing on both phones until I finally get through (on Jon's phone) and I'm caller 10! Only now I find out the DJ is taking two other callers and will be asking us trivia questions about MC and Vanilla's personal lives. Nice.

I'll spare you the tragic details but I will tell you this: I didn't know a single answer and I won no tickets. But I still love the moment of trying---all of us in the mini van (full of kids, crumbs, and crayons) driving through Lehi, Utah trying to win tickets to a concert that would only be cool if it was 1989 again. I think it's my official moment of jumping the shark. If I was ever cool, I am cool no longer.

Oh well, you still can't touch this.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Another Rule For Jon

I have some rules that Jon has to follow if he wants to remain alive. These rules have come about from unfortunate experiences in our marriage. For example, and at the top my list, is that Jon CAN NOT EVER under any circumstances get Simon a haircut. Long story but a good rule. On his ever growing list I've just added yet another rule.

Jon can not buy Simon shoes. Yesterday he took Simon to Wal-Mart and Simon came back sporting a pair of rainbow, Velcro, Yo Gabba Gabba tennis shoes. They have plastic windows with all the characters waving out at me. All of them---Muno, Plex, Foofa, Toodee, and Brobee! Does Simon really need someone named Foofa riding around on his feet? The only good thing I can say about the shoes is thank goodness the designers ran out of room for DJ Lance Rock.

Seriously, no more shoes for Simon from Jon.

Confessions of a Hammeraholic

So Mc Hammer and Vanilla Ice are having a "Dance Party" concert at UVU this weekend and I've totally been trying to win tickets. I almost had them the other day. First they played a clip of a Hammer song. Next you had to be the 10th caller and then correctly rap the next two lines of the song.

I wasn't the 10th caller I was actually the 16th but the people before me obviously aren't as knowledgeable in the ways of Hammer and didn't know the next line...BUT I DID! I busted a move on live radio only to be told I missed the lyrics by ONE word! My chances were foiled. Several callers later a dude who admitted to googling the lyrics won the tickets. Lousy computer jerk. I bet he didn't even ever own a pair of parachute pants.

SO now instead of being to legit to quit I'll have to STOP! Collaborate and Listen at the Tabernacle with Jon at his Evening with a General Authority.
Until Later...You Can't Touch This!

Unanswered Prayers

Before leaving the house we always say a prayer for safety. Simon likes to pray and is the one who usually says the prayers. The other morning he prayed that we would be safe and that mom would let him sit in the back of the van bus so he wouldn't have to ride in his car seat.
Unfortunately that prayer went unanswered.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Jon vs. Monet

So Jon had never been to a museum before we were married. On one of our first anniversary's we went to the Guggenheim extension in Las Vegas.

We walked around for awhile. Sometimes together, sometimes alone. I was loving it. We saw works by Lichtenstein, Rembrandt, Cezanne, and Monet. I found Jon alone studying a Monet. "Wow," I thought, "he must really be into this."

I walked over and asked him what he was thinking. He said, "That is a really nice frame."

There is A Cat on My Head

When we moved here there were mice and voles everywhere so I needed a cat. But, I'm weird about things and didn't want to buy a pet at a pet store. I felt like I needed to adopt one from a shelter. I spent awhile looking around for just the right adoptee---the perfect addition to our family. And I finally found one. A cute little black and white long hair kitten. She was beautiful.

Simon and I went one afternoon to adopt her and bring her home. I was so excited. When we got to the place they put us in this tiny 5'x5' room with a carpeted bench covered in hair and left us with the kitten to fill out the paper work. At this point I should tell you I'm ridiculously allergic to cats. So within minutes my eyes start to swell and water. By the time I was finished with the paper work full on hives are popping up on my arms and my throat is closing up.

But, I finished then I went with some nice high school boy who helped my gather up some items I needed and walked me out to the car. For some reason I had assumed that when you get a pet they put it in some sort of happy meal like container for you to take it home in. I was wrong. The kid dropped the food on the ground handed me the cat and told me to have a good day. Now I was standing in a parking lot alone with a two year old, a 50 pound bag of cat food, and one freaked out kitten.

Somehow I managed to get the food and Simon loaded and buckled without loosing the kitten. I was proud, I was super mom and we were on our way home. I decided to just hold the cat on my lap driving home. I figured that way Simon wouldn't fight with her and she wouldn't wind up on the floor under the pedals. Looking back I question that decision. We pull out of the parking lot and into traffic when kitty goes mental. Meowing...peeing...clawing...whatever...next she's on my shirt and I'm going 45 down a busy road fighting a kitten. Before I can stop her she's on my head. THE CAT IS ON TOP OF MY HEAD! I am driving a car with a cat standing on my head.

When I say on my head I mean literally on top of my head. And then she hunkered in. Oh, I was trying to pull that sucker off but she wasn't moving. Her claws were embedded in my scalp. As I'm struggling I pull up to a stop light. I'm yanking on the cat, Simon is screaming and then I notice the ladies in the car next to me are staring at me in utter confusion. Kitty has removed her front claws from my brain and has lodged them in the headrest. With a mighty pull I detach the kitten from above and hold her next to the steering wheel with my left hand. The light turns green and I gun it. Did I mention that my car is a stick shift and that I'm shifting during all of this?

I was a long drive but finally we get home. I put the cat in the garage and shut the door. I put Simon in front of the TV. I walk across the street to neighbors I hardly knew for help.

Now picture this if you will: my eyes are running and almost completely swollen shut, snot is flowing uncontrollably from both nostrils, my chest, neck, face, and arms are covered in scratches that are swelling and what skin that is left unscratched is bursting with angry red hives. I'm sneezing and coughing and I ring the doorbell. The sweet 14 year old boy answers the door. "Oh, Sister Evans," he says, "you need help. My mom's not home, but I'll get my sisters."

I walked back across the street with two of his sisters that made the cat a bed then gave her food, water and love. They stayed all afternoon and were darling. At this point I wish I could tell you that after a shower and some allergy medication it was all love and joy. However, as with most things I plan it didn't turn out how I'd envisioned it.

Kitty became ill. We called the shelter, kitty had tested positive for every animal illness known to man. We loaded her in a box and Jon drove her to Payson to meet the shelter's vet. She died later that evening.

That being said, I don't want you to think this story ends on a sad note. Kitty was going to die. I just didn't know that. But I like to think that before she did she became part of a family, went on the ride of her life and then spent an afternoon with two adorable girls who gave her tons of love and affection. Plus she gave me something to laugh about---every time I get into the car I see her claw prints on my head rest.

That's better than spending your last hours in some stinking shelter any day.

A Brief History of Cats

A friend of mine was blogging the other day about how she hates people blogging about their pets so I thought "Hey! I should blog about my pets!"

It all started 3 years ago when we moved here. I saw mice everywhere and I hate them. After much debate Jon agreed to get a cat. After a harrowing experience (that I'll talk about next in my "There's A Cat on My Head" entry) I was the proud owner of a kitten. She lived with us for about 6 hours before becoming ill and dying later that night.

Our next cats were Bill S. Preston Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan. They came from my uncle's ranch. They were excellent. However, one morning we discovered that Ted was gone and we haven't seen him since. He doesn't call, he doesn't write...actually, I think he knew what we didn't...that my uncle, my uncle who promised me that both the cats were male, is full of crap. With in a few weeks of Ted's disappearance Bill delivered 6 kittens in my garage.

I promptly hired some neighbor girls to give them away in the parking lot of a local grocery store. We gave them all away but one...Eddie Van Halen...the cat from Hell.

Oh sure, Eddie was a cute kitten and then an amazing mouser but he liked to attack things. At first it was funny---other cats, birds, the neighbors Boxer---but before long Simon and I were trapped in the house. If we went in the yard that thing was hissing and scratching and clawing.

Normally I could make him keep his distance until one day. I was unloading the kids from the van bus when Eddie decided the driveway was his. He was hissing and spitting and wouldn't move. I ignored him and carried Simon, who was freaking out, into the house and then came back for eliza. On my way back I couldn't see him until I was almost to the van. At that point he materialized out of thin air, jumped on my leg and tried to tear me to pieces. Luckily I had my Dr. Pepper mug with me and I dowsed that thing with an ice cold beverage. Soaking wet I retrieved my baby. By the end of the week Van Halen was gone. (His where abouts are another story.)

So now we just have Bill. She is our one and only pet. And because she has been surgically altered she will lead out the remainder of her barren life in our yard trying to avoid the neighbor kids who love her.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

There was this time in History class

That last story reminded me of this time in history class...
I was co-teaching a junior high history class with one of my favorite teacher friends ever and our students were doing oral reports. I don't remember the topic but I do remember one of the reports.

One of my students was giving her presentation on horses. (I have no idea why she was talking about horses but anyway...) And we had practiced the report earlier in the day. She was going to do great. And she did until the very end.

You see she had brought two 14 inch plastic horses to use for a visual aid and at the end of her report she got carried away and began to improvise. Before the other teacher and I comprehended what was going on she has the horses in front of the class and is explaining how they mate. This might have been ok if we were in biology or IF SHE WASN'T USING THE TOY HORSES TO DEMONSTRATE POSITIONS!

I was sitting in front of the class, the other teacher in the back. I wish I could remember the exact dialog but I can't. I only remember seeing the horses, held aloft in love's embrace and a sea of horrified teenage faces. Seriously, dude, I can't even write this story without laughing. Ahh, those were the days.

Red Hair

So, Hannah is in beauty school and I made her practice on me Sunday. I was nervous getting my hair colored and for good reason---I've had a history of really bad colors. Like there was this one time I was in St. George with my family over spring break. I was pregnant and feeling ugly so one night we ran to Target and got some dye. Red dye. I envisioned Anne of Green Gables but came out like Annie and Ronald McDonald's love child.

Oh, and did I mention I was pregnant at the time? Well, if I didn't, I was. And I was still teaching school and the Monday I returned in all my glory I had IEP's scheduled with parents all day.

The principal must have been so proud, right? Not as proud as he was about to be. I wore a blue maternity suit to the meetings. (Try looking professional when you're pregnant.) The complimentary shade of blue really set off the hue of my hair. I was stunning.

The meetings began at 8:00, one right after another, every 30 minutes with no break. The meetings included parents, one of my teacher friends who happened to be a man, the vice principal (also a man), and me. The councilor (a woman) was supposed to be in attendance but couldn't make it until after lunch.

After lunch in comes the councilor. The first thing she tells me is to button up...I look down only to find my bra staring back at me. My shirt's top button was done up but the next two were WIDE OPEN. So I ask to my two men friends how long I've looked like this. The answer: since I came to work! Then they start in with these stupid explanations about not knowing how to tell me so they just waited until a "lady" came...sexual harassment...blah blah blah...didn't want me to kill them..yadda yadda yadda....Nice.

I'm sure the parents I met with that day felt confident about the education their children were receiving. Anyways, back to Sunday, Hannah colored my hair. She even put in red highlights. It looks good.

SO my hair looks nice, I'm not pregnant, and my shirt is buttoned up. Too bad I didn't have those IEP's today.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Why didn't she just build a fort?

My post earlier today reminded me of something else that happened in preschool just before Christmas. We had been talking about animals and colors. I don't do religious stories in class but I have this dang cute book about the animals from the nativity and it went with our theme and the season so one day I read it to them.

Various animals need a place to stay and one by one they are invited into the stable by a kind old ox. Finally Joseph and Mary come along. They need a place to stay to have their baby. So in an effort to help the kids develop prediction making skills I ask, "So where do you think Joseph and Mary will stay?" (Thinking that surely the students will have picked up on the pattern by now.) Without hesitating one little guys says, "I think that lady will use her sheet (Mary does look like she is wearing a sheet in the illustration.) and build them a fort."

Good answer.

I Just Did My Hair

So another session of preschool just ended. Today was our Valentines celebration and it was fun. The best part though was during music time.

One of the songs we did today was, "If your happy and you know it". I was letting the kids pick the actions---we were doing the usual...make an ugly face, poke your eye, touch your foot to your head...you know, the usual, when Simon chose "pat your head" (a shockingly tame selection for him). As we started the verse one of the boys yelled, "I'm NOT doing it! I JUST DID MY HAIR!"

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

The Price of Using Coupons

Recently I decided to try my hand at using coupons. I clipped and saved. Then I made a list of what items and brands to buy and mapped out my store battle plan. Leaving Jon home with the kids I set out to save some money.

After loading each worthy item in my cart I found it's corresponding coupon, folded it in fourths and deposited it in my pocket. This system worked like a charm and before long I was heading for the check out lines.

Because there is only one grocery store in town it is ALWAYS busy and the lines were at least 4 deep. Then I noticed down on the end a line with only 1 dude in it. I zoomed over and jumped in there. With in seconds I was unloading my heaping cart. I had groceries overflowing and even stacked on the bottom. This was going to take awhile.

A line was quickly forming behind me and everyone was super cranky! The guy behind me (who only had a loaf of bread and some oranges) kept sighing loudly and giving me the stink eye. As I finished unloading the cart and began on the bottom shelf the cashier asked if I was aware that I was in an express 10 items or less lane. Obviously the answer was no.

For the first time in a long time I actually felt my checks start to burn and as I turned to see the 6 or 7 fuming customers behind me I felt like an idiot. I asked the cashier if I should just move all my stuff over to another line. The answer was an annoyed explanation of how it would take her longer to cancel what she had of mine than to just finish my order.

So there I stood humiliated waiting for what seemed like an eternity while she finished ringing me up. Now it was time to pay. Lucky me. I was in a cash only line and I was prepared to pay with a debit card only. More annoyed sighs and a manager was called to unlock the debit card machine with the magic key. Meanwhile, the cashier called for assistance to help bag my load. (Actually she called for all available baggers to assist with a problem at the express lane.)

As the side show grew so did the line behind me. But now my groceries were being sacked and I was able to pay there was just one more issue---the coupons. This was a no coupon checkout line. But I had spent forever coordinating the wretched things. What should I do? There was a brief moment of indecision and then I did it. I started pulling the coupons out of my pocket one at a time and placing them on the counter.

The sighs of disgust were so loud behind me I didn't even look there way. I just started to unfold them and unfold them and unfold them. Feet were shuffling, eyes were rolling, my cheeks were burning and the coupons just kept coming.

When all were accounted for I had saved over $30 in coupons alone. (When you consider the coupons were to save like 25 cents or 10 cents per item that will give you some idea of the amount of coupons scanned.) I used my debit card and a nice young man walked me out of the store. Once we were out of sight of the lynching mob the bagger and I started to laugh and laugh. He told me how mad everyone was (as if I couldn't tell) and then we laughed some more.

After I was done laughing I chucked those groceries in the van bus like some half crazed demon and took off before anyone could ram me with their vehicle. On the way home I wondered if I'm really ready for the extra responsibility of shopping with coupons anyway.

Monday, February 9, 2009

And She Thought of Me

A few days ago my mom called. She had her police radio on at work and heard that officers were being dispatched to help a mom who was pulled over to the side of the road in her silver Honda Odyssey mini van.

It seems her 4 year old had become hopelessly tangled in his seat belt and was now trapped in the van. And of course, upon hearing these facts who does my mother think the officers will find once they reach that van? Me.

And while I drive the same van and have a tanglesome 4 year old I am happy to say it wasn't me...at least not on that day...

(Just as a side note---my mom said that the 4 year old was fine, no injuries...thank goodness.)

Lemony Fresh

A few weeks ago I had a lot going on and I was maxing out my multi-tasking capabilities. While talking on the phone, holding eliza, and starting dinner I decided to begin the laundry.
We had just done our massive Costco shopping extravaganza the day before and I had some new laundry detergent to try out.

After prying the lid open with a screwdriver I found the soap to be ridiculously fragrant....I was taken away to a lemon grove in my mind. Boy were my clothes going to smell delicious.

Later that day when it came time to run the dishwasher I discovered that I had done the laundry with dish washing detergent. So much for lemony freshness.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Apparently the Answer is Yes

When I asked in my last entry if I really do look like "that", the answer is yes, I do.

These are the facts:
#1. It was 4:00 last Thursday afternoon.
#2. I went into the fabric store of infamy. AKA "the bad lady store"---the name given by Simon.(For details see My Cousins Underwear blog entry on May 29, 2008).
#3. I wore too small and too tight plaid pajama pants that hang funky making one leg longer than the other, flip flops---in the middle of February, and a paint stained sweatshirt from college that says "whatever".
#4. I didn't even think twice about my appearance.

So, like I said, the answer is yes, I guess I really do look like "that".

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Do I really look like that?

So the other night I went to the gym. It had been a long day and I was tired. It was about 8:00 at night. I did my usual workout and as I was leaving I saw a reflection in the window of a girl who was obviously not pregnant (as evidenced by the maternity sweat pants whose crotch hung down to her knees) wearing a too small sweatshirt covered in varnish and paint stains that read "Baroque: When you are out of Monet" and pink tennis shoes with silver reflectors. She also had a brown paint streak down one side of her face and hair full of felt and cotton clippings. This woman was obviously not fit to be out in public.

And who was this poor beast you ask? Unfortunately it was me. And as I reflected on what had brought me to my present state I realized I didn't even have a bra on. Oh well. At least I don't have to worry about anyone trying to pick me up at the gym. And I'm happy to note that no one tried to pick me up at the gas station either when I stopped there on my way home for a Dr. Pepper. Apparently there are some perks to looking like you're crazy.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Don't Punch the Poinsettias

A year ago (around Christmas time) we were standing in my parents door way telling them goodbye when Simon decided to have a boxing match with one of my mom's poinsettias. And while the plant was large and proved to be a formidable foe my mom wasn't too happy about the whole situation. Before I knew it I was yelling at Simon, "Don't punch the poinsettias!"

That makes absolutely no sense...don't punch the poinsettias...whatever....

This blog is dedicated solely to all of the insane events and conversations that I find myself involved in on a regular basis. Most of these will involve my children. If you thought my life was as ridiculous as an episode of "I Love Lucy" before I had kids you should see me now.