Headache hangover

When I was eleven I was in PE at R.E.Tobler Elementary. It was a warm spring day and my fifth grade class had our two PE preps one right after the other each week. After a water break with my classmates I started to notice part of my face felt tingley numb and I mentioned it to some of my friends. I am sure I felt it in the tip of my nose, first, which was so bizarre to me since only half of my tip was numb feeling. Before long my entire right side (even half my tongue) from my waist up was numb and the PE teacher pawned me off to the school nurse. My dad, who taught at the school, called my mom to come and pick me up. I definitely got from both of them the "I think she's faking vibe" especially because I didn't feel too badly. I vaguely remember a little headache, and I could move my arms, but didn't have a lot of strength in my hands to, say, squeeze anything. Anyway, the pediatrician ends up sending me to the hospital to be admitted for all these tests because they think I had a stroke. After all these tests and consultations the powers at be diagnosed me with migraine headaches. Now, if you get migraine headaches, you feel my pain. For the past (nearly) twenty years, I get these sudden, funky headaches that affect my vision, still give body numbness, and leave me with a monstrous hangover. My dad, who has always had headaches (thanks for THOSE genes, Dad!) and my mom were always very compassionate. I've tried to figure my triggers so as to avoid a migraine and have decided stobe lights, jalapenos, and HORMONES are my top three for sure-as-heck gonna get a migraine. But that's no guarantee, either, stress or fatigue can bring one on just as easily, so there's really no way to avoid them if you're a mom of four with a life and a to-do list. One time I had to come home from a church dance, another time a sleepover, and yesterday I had to cancel my visiting teaching appointment. Tyler has learned to be great, especially since he doesn't get headaches (I think he's had maybe five in the ten and a half years we've been married) and just asks that I pump the drugs as soon as I get the tell-tale blindspot in my eyes that mean I will be slammed shortly thereafter with a headache. Now, don't get me wrong, I have compassion for those with headaches. I am prone to the normal ones, too, but it rubs me the wrong way when people claim migraines over a bad headache. Migraines are my can't-even-lay-your-head-down, no-medicine-really-works, make-you-wanna-vomit (and sometimes do), just-gotta-sleep-it-off-headache. There are people out there who get struck with these more than I do, so let me just say "HOLLA!" to you. Anyway, so yeah, yesterday I had a migraine and today I am feeling the "my brain was swollen and now it can rattle around in the space the headache created within my skull" after effects. SIgh. More later, my ten minutes is up and time to get the kids shakin'!

The year of Sarah

You Belong in 1972

If you scored... 1950 - 1959: You're fun loving, romantic, and more than a little innocent. See you at the drive in! 1960 - 1969: You are a free spirit with a huge heart. Love, peace, and happiness rule - oh, and drugs too. 1970 - 1979: Bold and brash, you take life by the horns. Whether you're partying or protesting, you give it your all! 1980 - 1989: Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day. 1990 - 1999: With you anything goes! You're grunge one day, ghetto fabulous the next. It's all good!

What Year Do You Belong In?

I thought this quiz thing was cute on Annilee's blog. I guess I am older than you, Annilee. I have referred to this year as the year of Sarah (just in joking because it sounds so incredibly pompous) since I am turning 30. I am looking forward to my 30s and being at a point in my life of better understanding. I feel like I have a better vision of who I want to be and how to get there. Actually following through seems to be my stumbling block. But, remember, I CAN do hard things (No dirty comment necessary Daniel, I already thought that through.)

Getting up this morning was really hard and I was trying to tell myself I could go running later, but who are we kidding. My house will be my afternoon workout as I have neglected some of it since I had so many meetings and stuff this week. I also need to go grocery shopping, but this week it seems totally too much work to do on top of everything else. We are getting pretty desparate. Since going healthy in January we don't have too many quick fixes for busy nights and we've pretty much taken care of those reserves. Maybe one day a personal chef would be nice. I don't know if I would want Paula back first or second. Also a masseuse. Add that to the yard, pool, and pest control guy and I'd have an entourage. ohhh, that would be the year of Sarah. Back to the running, thing, I had to take it easy today as I don't want to burn out or push it and I figure I don't have to try and do something my body isn't ready for. I am hoping when I can reach the 30 minute straight mark it will signify a benchmark to get ready for the 10K. I think I have been unrealistic about working up to my 30 minutes, though, so I am going to try and balance my push-it days with my not so stress-y days. Anyway, I will work it all out.

Yesterday was great . . . to have over. It was a really long day (and I have noticed being a lot more tired this week as I have been running. Extra energy-smenergy), but ended very well with me watching Grey's and then The Office. I know it's not real, but I love to have something make me laugh outloud like, "V.I.P.ness." Too good Grey's last night. I can see how they're setting Addison up to leave for her own show and I LOVE LOVE LOVE the drama cuz that makes for other good Grey's to come. Okay, I sound like the goofy people who comment on the writers' blog (GreyMatter.com - if you're interested). When I got to my youth conference meeting last night I saw my friend, Chris's, little boy, Zach who was also at our meeting with his dad. I said, "Zach, I just saw your mom." He said, "What? She's at a meeting." I said, "Yup, I was at that meeting too. That's what mommy's do, go to meetings." He was so good the whole time. I understand it was for a slurpee reward, but kudos to him for being so stinkin' darling. It is amazing how quickly time goes by. I was watching Zach thinking how I remember him as a baby and now he's five and then I looked at the youth who are putting together this conference and thought how five years ago they were barely in mutual and in five more years most of them will be in leadership, some married, working, going or finished with school, real grown ups, ya know. Crazy.

I am off to clean up before too many more of my kids are up . . . I don't know how so many of you do early bell schedule. We're pushing it to get it together by 9am! Have a great day!

Thursday morning Thoughts

I had a conversation with Tyler last night about this blog and why I do it. It got me thinking. I don't know that I can really identify WHY I do it, and I don't know that it matters WHY as much as I enjoy the release it gives me. I guess, in my mind, SOMEONE out there is reading and appreciating something about me and my life. I don't even need to know if the person exists, or have them make a comment. I don't pay attention to how many comments I get (although, I do appreciate keeping in touch like that.) It's more of something I just tell myself as an extra boost. I do want to say this, too, publicly on my blog. I love my husband. He is a great, great man (WAY better than me, actually) and I appreciate him as a person and a FRIEND. Granted, he doesn't really want to be my girlfriend, but he's solid and true and loyal and loving and really funny. [He wants me to make sure everyone knows how funny he is!] I knew a long time ago that he was a catch and I totally scored. He is endlessly patient (even if I have worn him down a little) with me, especially. I admire him for his ease with people, his non-judgmental-ness, and his ability to not let the thick of the thin things weigh him down. Anyway, he's great, trust me. I do not say this all to be boastful, but to share that I am blessed far more than I deserve.

I have a ton of stuff to do today for meetings I have tonight and I am getting my hair done this afternoon. Pretty excited about that. Gotta go grocery shopping, so I need to make my list from foodfit.com (this amazing website that has an easy-to-use recipe search). I have Caylee's music class, a camp meeting, a youth conference meeting, and Grey's Anatomy tonight. I probably sounded kind of onry about the scrapbook thing last night, I didn't mean to, if I did...and no, Jana, I thought your conversation was do-able. We did some cute pages and can stay a month a head for the rest of the year so I won't be stressing about that around the holidays. Actually, maybe we should try and get the whole year done a head of time and then I won't have to worry about it at all. I WAS in a fuzz last night, though . . .

Went walk/jog/running this morning and worked up to 15 minutes straight. The walk yesterday helped my sore chins for today. I always got shin splints the first few weeks of soccer when I played in high school, so I know it'll pass with some good stretching. I am pretty impatient, though. I mean, hello?! I have been going for four days in a row, how come I am not down to a size 8 and why do I still jiggle? Patience, right? Whatever. I am so instant gratification girl. I know I need to cut out the soda, AGAIN! It's a love-hate relationship with me and my cola. More on that later, probably, as it's an on-going issue.

I gotta go get my kids clicking and dry my hair . . . to do, to do, check, check, check. It completes me.

Ew!

You are

What Rejected Crayon Are You?

Yeah! You and me Mike!

Sarah Gives Back

Alrighty, now. It's late, well, no so late, but I am totally wiped. Tyler and I are watching American Idol Gives Back and I can't tell if I am touched or PMSing or disturbed or shocked or what, but I am having a hard time not becoming overcome by emotion, but I am trying to hide it so Tyler won't look at me and say with a grin, "Are you crying?" Shows like this really make me think what a wonderful world I have, how blessed I am, and how I should never complain about anything.

How did that all work out before we came to earth? I believe we existed as Spirits before we came to our families here. I have felt VERY strongly a connection with people not in my family that goes way beyond my experiences with them here in this life. And, I believe, that my friendship and love started in before our friendship and love connected here. I believe I was sent to this earth, also, with things to challenge and try me so that I might learn and grow and become a better person. I ALSO believe that Heavenly Father (my Man, God) loves EVERYONE equally. I can't imagine how painful it would be to watch his "children" suffer as they die prematurely from malaria or AIDS or any of the other maladies in poverty stricken countries. I can't wrap my brain around the conversation between He and I before I came to this earth that went something like:
Me, "Okay, wish me well."
Him, "You'll be great, but I'll try you with things that you'll think are really hard like four healthy kids who are smart enough to have their own opinions, a brilliant, supportive husband that doesn't take the trash out when I want him to, OR how hard it is to keep your mouth shut from eating ALL the conveniently abundant food that you'll have money to buy for yourself and your family. Somehow you'll grow from that like your sister, here, who I am sending to Africa. She's going to bury four of her smart, opinionated kids before they ever turn 8 because they were bitten by mosquitos, OR that sister who will be unknowingly infected by AIDS and leave her kids motherless at the tender age of 28, OR that sister who's family will struggle to eat three square meals . . . she'll live right doen the street from you."

I dunno. Maybe that's too heavy, but I am totally buying in to the we need to donate, give, and sacrifice for the betterment of others. We don't take it with us, right?

That said, Celine and Elvis with the American Idol commercials may be too much for me to pick up the phone and call. It's almost like overwhelmed public persona pressure.

On other Wednesday reports: got up and did a long walk this morning to break up my training, took the kids to get donuts before Kenzie and Caylee and Brevin to school, went to the church to prep for the ward scrapbook night, didn't embarrass myself too badly when I had to get the kids to clean their mess and get in the car, came home for lunch and mandatory naps, worked on the scrapbook pages, and left for Wal-Mart when Tyler got home. Scrap Nite was successful, I think. I enjoy the women, the craft, and the chance to teach. I am feeling, however, a little overwhelmed at so many major responsibilities falling due night after night after night. Last night was camp clinic that we were put on the spot to be in charge of a group when we showed up, LOVE THAT! Tonight was the scrap nite, which of course I had procrastinated getting it all together, and tomorrow is youth conference and another camp leader meeting where a lot of stuff is coming due. And the good news . . . I get to go running in the morning. Woo hoo. Oh, heavens, I better head to bed as I apparantly am too touch-y, PMS-y, disurbed and shocked.

Jogging Report

So, I should be a little more forthcoming about my "run" training. Yeah, it's more like jogging. I can't imagine building to an actual run, but I guess time will tell. Yesterday I could feel my muscles getting tighter and tighter and throughout the night I woke up several times to roll over. BUT, I got up and did it all over again. I actually made it ten minutes of straight jogging between my walking, which is an improvement over my 5 minutes yesterday. Some of you have asked for the training link: http://www.halhigdon.com:80/10ktraining/10knovice.htm. Building up to thirty minutes of straight running is the starting point of the training program, so I'll let you know when I get there :)

An now, drum roll please, the weekly Bachelor report. Last night I picked up Dave and Mike and Erin and headed over to Stacy's to view our weekly dose of trashy TV (or, at least, a portion of it.) Whoever said Family Home Evening is too hard, even with older kids, I say you have to find the right medium, cuz we had no problem gathering together. I have to say Andy is losing favor in my eyes. I don't know if it's the pressure of the cameras or what, but these people make the dumbest comments and have the most awkard interactions on national television. Here are my favorites from last night:

Bevin's reaction to Andy's childhood "nerd" dream of becoming an astraunaut. I can't remember exactly how she said it, and I left my notes in the car (yeah, I took notes) but shortly thereafter she strattles Andy and asks if he wants to give her a check-up. Seriously. On national television? Does the woman have any self respect? Is that a rhetorical question considering her willingness to be on the show. Yeah, Bevin has lost favor with me, too. Too much whining and pissy-ness.

Stephanie South Carolina is a trip. Or, shall I say, was. Kinda glad she was not given the rose. I don't know if it was her disturbing emotional reaction to the "most incredible view" of Tahoe, her uncomfortably placed boobs (like, they make me uncomfortable as they hang half-way out of most of her dresses in a most unnatural way), or her pompous attitude, "I am 94% sure I am getting a rose." Yeah, that was a big 6 %. And her evil "I hope he's happy" after her boot-off was pretty classic.

I will give Andy credit for kicking off the pot stirrers. Kate and Steph SC were too ugly with the other girls. Nicole, though, got the shaft and it wasn't her fault, so the breakdown of tears was unneccessary. Remember as wise said, "Jealousy is a rampant beast." Ahh, good stuff. Daniel and Julina you can't resist the invite to come next week. Erin's doing treats and Daniel's got the opening prayer.

Gotta go referee with my kids and get breakfast going. Have a great day!

A note

A note for the guy at the elementary school this afternoon:

Dear fellow parent of a Weiner Whale,
Please don't hollar at me from 50 yards away about my lack of parking in a spot when we are loading out kids into our vehicles. If you have a problem that I stopped my huge bus of a car as close to the school's entrance as possible, then perhaps you could come and speak to me about it instead of raising your arms and shouting, "That's not a parking spot LADY!" Because if you could take your [also late, illegally parked] self over to me I could explain that my daughter was getting some sad news from her assistant principal regarding "take your kid to work day" so my quick run-in took a bit longer than I anticipated. I already was feeling badly enough about taking so long at the scrapbook store, and had already dealt with inept office staff at the school, so I don't need your sweaty man attitude. And while I understand your frustration, as I, too, have found myself stuck behind other inconsiderate parents who park their cars in the driveway, I don't understand why you have to be so rude about it, especially since you, Mr. Black Kettle, are also parked in a "No parking" zone. Instead, maybe you could just get in your car and continue your conversation with you son while I finish consoling my daughter. But I am not going to yell that back at you because I am assuming your afternoon was pretty crummy, too, since we we're both picking our kids up more than fifteen minutes after the bell rang. So, I hope you remember that the world at Weiner Elementary doesn't revolve around you any more than it revolves around me and if you yell at me again I may be forced to take my tank of a car and completely crush your Civic. Thank you, Thank you VERY MUCH!
Thanks,
Fellow bad parent award winner

Running Report #1

Alrighty, ladies and gentlemen. I set my alarm, actually got out of bed before it went off (I think I was nervous I would sleep to deeply and miss my commitment as I slept like poo last night), dressed and stretched and went for my first official 10K training run. RUN might be a stretch. Maybe a jog. Nah, even that is pushing it. Restate: I went for my first official shuffle-walk this morning. Talk about a reality check about how really out of shape I am. I kept telling myself I could run 10 minutes straight before I'd have to walk. Uh, yeah, by four minutes I was pushing myself to make it to five. And I don't look so lean and graceful like I've seen on the Olympics. Flo Jo I am not. BUT, I did it. I got up and I ran for five minutes, walked for fifteen, and then ran home in about eight minutes. I figured (on my map my run site Amy sent me) that it was about a mile-ish, so I'll call that an accomplishment. I sweated. That counts for something, right? Here's a few signs I can tell I am out of shape:
1. I spent more time thinking about my outfit to wear running than my warm-up.
2. I didn't load good running songs on my iPod and when it hit the Mo-Tab playlist I told myself I could have a spiritual experience while I ran. I figured, however, I couldn't feel the Spirit if I was cursing in my head the whole time about how hard it was to get my body moving.
3. When I run I feel like King Kong since all my foot steps sound like, "Ka-thud, Ka-thud"
4. I just needed more air but couldn't get enough so I was breathing through my nose AND mouth and sounded like some perverted phone caller with how heavy my breaths were coming.
5. My body isn't used to circulation apparantly since my whole body started to itch by the half mile mark.
6. I couldn't have a normal talking conversation with anyone (which is what you are supposed to be able to do when you have a good pace) unless they wanted a conversation like this, "So (puf puf) I was talking (puf) to my sis (puf puf) ter yester (puf) day . . . " You get the drift?
7. I re-negotiate my run rules WHILE I am running. For example, "I will run ten minutes before I walk." "OK, maybe I will lightly jog for ten minutes." "Actually, I will go straight for the next three songs on my iPod." "Ya know, this is a really long song, I will just start walking when I get to that corner up there." "Did I say that corner up there? This one is a good one, too. Time to walk."
8. "Oh, wow, didn't know I even had a muscle there."
9. I seem to have an abundance of phlegm that worked itself free during this morning's exertion as I sounded like a 82 year old emphazema patient once I hit the shower.
10. I didn't come home thinking, "That was great; I feel healthy and positive." Instead, I am still at the "This sucks" phase.

Besides fighting the urge to go get a Coke (at 8:03am), my day's agenda includes a trip to the scrapbook store to stock up for our ward's scrap nite on Wednesday. And if I don't get my bathroom cleaned I am fairly certain some sort of creature is going to crawl out of the mess and build-up we have accumulated on our counter. Yes, yes, another moment of silence for dearly departed Paula.

I forgot to mention last night in my insanely long post that we got a new bishop yesterday in our ward. I had committed myself to be on time (you know I hate to miss good stuff like a ward leadership shake-up) and barely made it by the opening song. I don't know if I was particurly hormonal, overly impressed that I was there to hear the opening song, or what, but I was feeling the Spirit so strongly that I had a hard time not crying throughout all of sacrament meeting. (For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, the bishop is the leader of our congregation and after he has served for a while, he is released from his responsibilities and asked to serve elsewhere. Meanwhile a new bishop is called.) Our old bishop, Bishop Foote, and his wife spoke, as did his counselors (one of which is the new bishop) and their wives, and then the new counselors and their wifes. Anyway, it was a sweet tender meeting and I enjoyed being there very much (despite the typical wrestling and whine-squelching we do weekly with our kids.) Sister Foote shared something I thought was so simple yet profound. She said there were some who had never known a different bishop than Bishop Foote, but the fact that there was change in the calling didn't affect the truthfulness of the gospel. I really was feeling that. So often, I think, the church is judged by the people who try their best to live the standards of our belief. But, we are just normal people who are trying to do and be our best. Sometimes it's fortunate to judge the church by the members, other times not so much (again, since we're normal people, very imperfect.) Anyway. I have loved Bishop Foote and am grateful for Bishop Olds. Change is good. Right, like the running and changing my lazy habits, cleaning a filthy bathroom, Change is good.

I've got bigger issues than not being in G.A.T.E.!

So, I have been thinking A LOT lately about a lot of different things, but since I have not a lot of time to expand on many of them in the blog-world, I have been keeping them to myself while continuing to think about them. So, tonight, I am ready to dump them, clear my mind, if you will, about a few of the little things that muddle my mind.

Before I go into that, I had a real nice visit at my mom and dad’s tonight. My sister and brothers and a smattering of our kids were there, Tyler came a little later, and my mom made scones. MMMmmm. Seriously, my mom can rock a scone. There were enough of us there, though, that we only averaged about 1.5 scone per person which was a bummer because I could have downed at least 2.5. BUT, like Mom said, if she would have made double we would have scones out of the wazoo, and nobody wants a scone out of a wazoo. It’s one of my most favorite things, to hang out with my family. Mom referenced my most previous Thank You, Thank You Very Much blog and was STILL trying to defend herself as not coming across so . . . I don't even know what she was trying to defend, probably that she doesn't want the readers to think she was a raving lunetic. Maybe I should clarify; we weren’t all down the street or anything, so she didn’t have to yell at us, but she did use plenty of emphasis and turned on her heel with gusto. Anyway. Oh, and my dad wants me to add the part about how my youngest brother Michael had biffed it leaving the Brigham Young home (which interestingly enough, Michael biffed it pretty good on our last family trip to temple square as he "took a note" [another good story from Garrard family lore for another post] while we were perusing the nativity scenes before Nate left on his mission), so Dad was just doing his part as a nurturing parent to volunteer to go back to the hotel and nap. Either way, it's part of the family experience that has made us who we are, and is subject to many points of view, etc. Of course, any reminiscing brings up other stories and on and on it went. I probably came out of the evening seeming a little bitter since I referenced Erin’s silky nightgown (the one she got after she drowned at swim lessons) several times throughout the night. [I know, I know, the girl deserved it when she CAME BACK TO LIFE.] THEN, Mom told us we all had a bunch of folders with old school stuff and pictures that we could take home, so we busted all that out and went through all that. There were report cards, school pictures, certificates, and G.A.T.E. reviews. Oh, wait. I didn’t have any G.A.T.E. (in the old days it was called “A.T.”, which is the gifted and talented program they have at the elementary level) reviews in MY folder. Yeah, I didn’t pass the test. ALLLL my brothers and sister were in the class, but I couldn’t make the grade. Whatever. I thought I had made peace with it, but my failure keeps rearing its ugly head as, tonight, we had to relive the trauma of Erin’s acceptance at the same time as my denial, AND this week Mackenzie got the invite to be tested. As I explained to Tyler that I was rejected when I was younger he asked, “Bitter much?” I didn’t think I was, but apparently I need to add it to my long list of issues. Here's a loose recap of the conversation tonight,
Dave: "Ah, here's my G.A.T.E. progress report thing. I didn't really like that class."
Erin: "You didn't, ah, I really like mine. One time, Ms. Sandoval . . . [story about this super fun thing they got to do in A.T. while I was sitting in 5th grade class NOT doing the super fun thing they were doing in A.T.] And I really liked it because we got to go to Catalina Island."
Stacy: "You did. Man, that's cool. What is G.A.T.E.?
Nate: "This class where you got to get out of your regular boring class and do cool puzzles and projects and stuff."
Stacy: "So, were you all in G.A.T.E.?"
Dave: "I was."
Erin: "I was."
Nate: "I was."
Me: "Was Michael too?"
Mom and Dad: "Yeah" (Said, almost apologetically as we have been down this, Sarah didn't make the grade path before)
Dave: "Wait, Sarah, you weren't in G.A.T.E.? The only one of us?"
Me: "No, I didn't pass the test. Whatever!"
Dave: "Ba-haaaaaaaa! [wicked laugh]"
Me: "Shut up. WHATEVER!"
Mom and Dad: "But who has the college degree?" {*Thanks, Mom and Dad, didn't think of that comeback!*}
Anyway, I am over it. Seriously. It's not really an issue, so much, anyway.


And, so, speaking of issues, let me vent about my body image. Like most people (well, women, I think) I spend a lot of time thinking about how I look, how I want to look, my pros, my cons, my rate of saggage, etc. I tend to think about it more than I tend to commit to change what I don’t like OR accept what I do like. It’s a blessing to be tall, for a lot of reasons, but mostly there’s a lot of places one can hide twenty or thirty extra pounds. As this is the year of the thirty for me, I have been a little more honest in my inventory. With all this thinking/inventory-ing, I have analyzed what my greatest challenges to my idea of success are and have come to this mighty conclusion . . . I am pretty lazy AND I don’t sacrifice very well. For example, when there is a lovely brownie sitting on an open plate within my, oh say, five mile radius, I will not sacrifice my enjoyment of that brownie for the sake of a flatter tush. OR, when I am feeling particularly stressed I do think in my mind, “The healthy thing to do at this moment would be work out my aggression at the gym or to a work-out video.” However, the reality of my coping skills include picking up a Large Coke at Sonic to nurse throughout the afternoon’s Oprah or whatever else I have DVR’d. AND THEN, I spend so much time thinking about what a slacker I am that I am somehow LESS motivated to change anything. Does this reek of therapy need? So, a while back, my friend, AMY told us how she started running with her daughter and she didn’t really make a big deal of it or anything. Amy has always looked amazing (like, shut-up-you-hardly-look-like-you-had-a-baby amazing [even two days after delivering any of her 4 kids], OR, always-petite-everything-looks-good-and-cute-on her amazing), even though she never gave herself the credit she deserved. Since Amy and I don’t cross paths as much as we used to, I have noticed this wonderful, healthy, glowing (really make-up-commercail-glowing, not shine-a-spotlight-in-your-backyard-kind-of-glow) transformation about her. Anyway, I am sure I can’t explain in the detail I need, how impressed I am with Amy on ALL sorts of levels, but especially with her commitment and sacrifice. After talking with her a few times (she is UBER supportive) and actually driving by her on occasion as she was running about the area, I have decided I am going to become a runner. My gym membership has expired, I got a little iPod for Christmas, my inventory report is not as promising as I’d like, and I just figure that’s like the stars aligning. ANYWAY, you know me, now that means I need to organize something to REALLY make it worthwhile, so I have decided I want to get a group of friends together who will commit to run a 10K race (6.1 miles) in the near future. Amy sent this amazing link (among others) with a really do-able training program. Of course, I have had it for a week now and have managed to get some good running shoes and that is it, but tomorrow starts the real deal. I am willing to sacrifice my sleep and get up early while Tyler preps for work and then try to follow through with everything the training program offers. I think it would be great to see how many of my friends who are feeling the same way about their inventory would be willing to give it a go and it would help motivate me to have their support and encouragement. Really, I want to be healthy. I want to FEEL good. I want to make this a habit I wish I had developed years ago. I want to be a good example to my kids. Amy says the best part is how you feel about yourself, and I am pretty ready to start thinking good things about that area of my life instead of the shortcomings. I’m sure I’ll be posting more soon, but check out the link and let me know if you want to be in the 10K with me. PS. Does anybody see the organization thing is an aid to my procrastination issues?

Finally, for this never-ending blog, I have a speaking assignment next Sunday to the youth of our ward (boys and girls). I have been thinking a lot about how and what to discuss as I was asked to keep it frank and honest. Any suggestions? It seems like there is any number of things to talk about, but I am trying to identify which loopholes seem most frequently used when justifying and rationalization takes over their common sense and upbringing. So what are our pet peeves with the 12-18 year olds you know? What kinds of stuff makes you think things like, "Boy, someone needs to tell them it's not attractive to have most of their bodies spilling out of a shirt that is OBVIOUSLY not thier size" or "Sexy is not really something a 12 year old needs to practice at church; someone should tell her that"?

So, thanks, I totally just dumped. Like I told my friend, Jana, it's a good think to dump it all out every now and then.

OH, and Chris, what makes up my blog? It's all very self indulgent!
1. Stories about my life
2. Ranting and raving about things that bug me
3. Pictures of my life
4. TV show explanations
5. More boring stories about my life.

ENJOY!

Thank you, Thank you very much!

Okay, when I was younger our family took a trip to Temple Square in Salt Lake City. I remember the highlights of that trip being #1, staying in the Marriot and #2, going to Lagoon, NOT the Salt Lake City tour. Nevertheless, it was something that my mom was looking forward to, so all seven of us trapsed around the temple grounds, visitors centers, Brigham Young home, etc. and by mid afternoon we were all pretty done as far as the church sites were concerned. ESPECIALLY when we could go swim (or, in my dad's case, nap) back at the hotel. Mom, however, was ready to hit up the church office building. Seriously? In all fairness, we were all in to everything else we had seen. Who doesn't love the seagull and grasshopper story (or is it crickets?) and the free piece of candy at BY's house wasn't too shabby, but nobody else could even fake excitement about an office building (I didn't realize there was shopping at the distribution center, too) and so, in a way, we revolted/mutineed and headed back to the hotel. My mom, bless her heart, was disappointed and probably frustrated with all of us and turned on her heel and parted us with, "Thank you, Thank you very much!" I don't know if it was the tone of disgust or what, but it has become a token phrase used in our family ever since. *Side note - I am sure we weren't super generous in attitude that day, and now, having kids, I can understand better her frustration at the group of us*

SO, my title is addressed to all of you bloggers who haven't updated your blogs lately (yeah, I know you read everyone elses, but don't updateyour own.) I say, "Thank you, Thank you very much." Thanks for letting me down when I go through my favorites routine and nobody has anything new. And Erin, just cuz you're out of town and your computer's broken, I don't give you a free pass. I am addicted. I appreciate needing balance in one's life . . . that's why I don't blog daily . . . well, that AND I can't usually think of what else to write about. Anyway, tonight I am waiting for laundry to dry, go to check blogs, and I am 0 for . . . (okay, I am NOT going to confess how many blogs I check.) Now, I know checking blogs more than once a day makes my opinion in this post pretty null and void, actually pretty stalkerish, but I DO get some sick thrill when y'all throw something new on yer 'ol blogs. It's my latest way to procrastinate, and I need some co-dependents to help me in this habit. Nuf said, gonna switch laundry and re-check to see if any night owls throw me a bone!

More on The Bachelor

Did he seriously cry? Wow.

An Officer and A Gentleman

Alright, so let's be real about The Bachelor. I love it in a sick in the head, guilty-pleasure, watching a train wreck, can't wait to watch it on my own kind of way. Tyler, on the other hand, can't stand it. (It's on his hate list, right above blogging, btw). Every week I try to convince him it's worth it just to watch the women make fools of themselves and see what kind of a dweeb the bachelor is. He lasted 13 minutes this week. After Bevin (one of my faves) broke her ankle he couldn't stand it any more and got up in disgust. I tried to convince him he was gonna miss good stuff, like mud baths and bikinis, but when Andy came out and gave Bevin the rose before she was whisked away in an ambulance for the twisted ankle, Tyler couldn't handle it and he headed to bed. So, without totally going in to the whole show, can I just say how much Stephanie South Caroline BUGS me? Okay, I gotta go watch Stephanie Kansas give the TLC and see which of the two on one gets sent home. Enjoy a guilty pleasure for me and watch the Bachelor online if you missed it tonight!

Right this minute

Right this very minute I am listening to Caylee and Brevin play something outside since I mandated that the toy room TV be turned off.

Right this very minute I can hear Mackenzie dropping crayons as she switches colors while finishing her homework.

Right this very minute Caylee is barking orders at Brevin and he is whining in reply (still outside, though, so I am not going to intervene.

Right this very minute Oprah is paused on my DVR since there is too much going on and I want to hear the "Don Imus" debate from earlier today.

Right this very minute I am trying to figure how long I can put off starting dinner, which is . . .

Right this very minute I am trying to figure out what's for dinner.

Right this very minute I can hear Brock finishing his cookie and am imagining the mess the pink frosted treat has left all over the floor.

Right this very minute I am missing the cleaning lady who I could count on mopping my floors.

Right this very minute I am getting the lunch report from Mackenzie and we are discussing the nasty note the lunch lady sent home. I guess she's had to charge and today she had to eat grilled cheese, "which is what you have to eat when you don't pay." Whatever. Nasty notes do not inspire school spirit, lunch lady!

Right this very minute I am trying to convince Brevin to go to the bathroom as he dances in front of me whining about Caylee taking his ball. He maintains he doesn't have to go, but his prancing indicates otherwise.

Right this very minute I am thinking of the sweet post Stacy had about our family.

Right this very minute I am ignoring the request for juice, AGAIN!

Right this very minute I am looking at the stack of youth conference registrations to enter still. There's a lot of them.

Right this very minute I am wondering why I insisted on entering all the information myself.

Right this very minute I am confessing to myself it's because I am a control freak and I want it to look nice, be organized, etc.

Right this very minute I have to end this post so I can add a picture, clean up Brock, get dinner going, finish homework, plan FHE, practice the violin with Mackenzie, and ENJOY the minutes that are passing so quickly.

Independence or Neglect?

SOOOO, I have a lot of kids . . . I know some people have more, some have less. It's really a matter of perspective, but my four kids keep me busy and slop a lot on my plate. I am not complaining, really, I kinda function better in overload, AND I like their slop. If I get too much crossed off my list, Tyler says, I create things so I can have a full list, so I am glad 4 kids keeps me busy so I don't feel the need to continue birthing kids. Regardless of how or what I have going on, I find I am a firm believer in INDEPENDENCE. I love, love, love little babies. At about age one, though, I am ready for them to grow and develop and gain more and more independence. Let's face it, moms celebrate the milestones of pulling up pants on his/her own or walking out and getting in the car without assistance. When Kenzie was barely 5 and Brevin was a baby and Caylee was 2, I coached Mackenzie to walk to her gymnastics class by herself from the front door of the big multi-gen center and thinking, maybe this is a little too much for a 5 year old to do solo. BUT she was fine and was accustomed to it after I dropped her off the very next week since the babies were asleep in the car. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

So, fast forward three years, and now I have two very independent girls. Caylee will regularly tell me she doesn't need me to come (anywhere) with her. At an earlier age than Kenz, Caylee has decided she has carte blanche to make some big girl decisions. She answers the phone and secretaries for me. She dictates her wardrobe and hair styles (we have knock downs over this one.) Lately, though, she has wanted me to leave her home to babysit when I have to run carpool or around the corner or even to the grocery store. Usually it's because she is watching a show or involved in an art project, and especially if she knows Brock is asleep. And to confess, sometimes I let her stay at home. Not often, and only when I know I am going to be quick. So, yeah, my almost 5 year old gets to be the real boss while I swoop Kenzie from school. So, am I a negligent mom to let her stay home? Yup. I tell myself I am fostering independence, but in the back of my mind I know my criminal defense would be pretty shoddy.

Does anyone else think back to the day when you could be home alone all day or watched over by your barely older siblings or sit in a car while your mom or dad ran into the grocery store (even with the air conditioning off, GASP!)? I can't get convince these little girls that they need to stay little when I am usually encouraging them to be a little more grown and independent. I've probably messed this one up, too. Shrug. BTW, my boys, not really so in to being independent, at least Brevin. He's my "I can't" kid, even though I know he can, like buckling his seatbelt, picking out his clothes, etc. So, I imagine I am learning some real perspective that will probably follow thru with the majority of both my girls' and boys' lives.

Weekend Update

We had a happy Easter weekend, complete with plenty of hoot and fluff. Back story: When I announced to Tyler that we were hosting Thanksgiving, he moaned. Then he explained that whenever we host a function, I tend to start "hootin' and fluffin' whilst we prepare. It's a way to describe the controlled panic and frenzy that a really long to-do list and limited time causes. Anyhow. Thursday afternoon, before I went to St. George, Aunt Lexi and cousin Caitlyn came over to dye eggs. The kids enjoy that kind of craft, but Brock was still a little too young to not throw the "bops" (his word for balls, which is what he confused the egg for.) Saturday, I already wrote about in my last post, was good and fun. I enjoy Tyler's family. My in-laws are great, some of my best friends, really. Tyler's aunts, in particular, are so easy to talk to and I look forward to seeing them for all sorts of family functions. I realized Sat. afternoon that I forgot to buy a slip for Mackenzie, so Tyler ended up going to the mall to slip shop. How good of a husband is that? Unfortunately, he was unable to find the right size, but we found one for Caylee that Kenzie wore the next day even though it totally didn't fit. Come Sunday morning, though, it was all hoot and fluff mode. Because of the festivities the night before, we had to do Easter bunny, baths, normal breakfast stuff, AND get ready for church before 9am. Mackenzie spoke in the Easter program, so we HAD to be on time. It was close (for them, I was 40 minutes late since I still had wet hair and was in my skivvies when everyone else left) and I was trying not to freak out as they were all getting ready, mostly cuz we couldn't do a family picture. I have a thing about coordinating our outfits, I am sure I have confessed that before, so I was so bummed not to get a pre-church photo. You know once you send them to church there's no guarantee they won't come home with something schmucked onto their clothes, especially if you are counting on taking a picture AFTER church. Oh well. Tyler's mom, who makes all her granddaughters' dresses for Easter, did SUCH a great job for all the girls. Caylee was specific about the blue color and how she wanted a skirt. Since Kenzie is getting her baptism dress, I figured she'd just do the white one, but two days before Easter Dodie managed to make a dress for Kenz AND it matched Caylee's and the boys' shirts. I loved it. She has an amazing sewing talent. After church we had my whole family over for dinner (where we served the leftover potato salad *Yum* with ham, green bean casserole, cheesy potatoes, Stacy's orange fluff salad, and Erin's HOMEMADE rolls - they were from scratch), so before everyone showed up I was all a hoot-and-a-fluff. Just getting everything done in a timely manner is an issue and plus I see a million things that I need to be doing too. Another good thing about Tyler is how he just knows what I need, so while he gives me my space to knock and bang around in the kitchen, he also quietly picks up the other rooms where people will be hanging out and keeps the kids out of my way. He copes with me so well! We had a good time with the fam and had the first ever Easter egg roller derby. You roll your boiled egg into someone else's and whoever's egg cracks the most is knocked out of the bracket. Oh yeah, we had a bracket. My nephew, Seth, took us all out and won the whole thing. Anyway, there's too many pics to post, but trust me when I say it was a good day. So, now I am in recovery mode from the hosting and have yet to get a ton of stuff checked off my list, which is really what i live to do. Peace. Hoot. Fluff.

Livin' La Vida Video a la Mexico

Mexico Vacation

I have had this ready for a few days and was waiting for some muic from Chris, who came through in a great way. BUT since I am a dork and can't seem to figure out how to upload the files she emailed me, I chose some of the provided One True Media songs. Sigh. At least it's done . . . I have no idea what the music is about, so any of you spanish speakers may want to let me know if it turns out to be inappropriate. All you have to do is click on the picture. Enjoy.

And, yes, I have an Easter report, but it's late and Tyler's leaving early in the morning to be out of town for a few days, so I need to go . . . and read People magazine for the latest world news and headlines.

Hippity Hoppity Easters on its way!

It's late and I have had a long day, but I have bloggers guilt for not posting any more than I have this week. I will try and use my sister's excuse that I was out of town, even though it was only for 24 hrs.

Thursday afternoon I went with some peeps from church to St. George to scope out some things for our stake's youth conference. It was a very productive trip and I can say, "This will be the best youth conference EVER." In fact, that's our sub-theme. Not really, but I still surprise myself at how stoked I get when it comes to youth activities. I do like a good party, but most of the time I can keep myself in the reality that I am an old lady who thinks most things are pretty rad . . . it doesn't take much for me to be entertained. Good, clean, fun. That's what it's about, right? Anyhow, it's gonna rock and I don't even care if the kids think I am a dork who is WAY too into a church activity. I spent enough time as a teenager trying to be cool enough that I couldn't let on how much I was digging a game that was nothing more than a bunch of people tapping red cups in a circle or playing a fancy version of tag. Not that we'll be planning a game of tap the red dixie cup or "missionary tag" for youth conference this year, but everything we did plan will be just as good, just as clean, and probably even funner. (yeah, I know that's not really a word, but it works.) Also, we got to eat at Pizza Factory and Cafe Rio. Yum. Yeah, just be jealous for a minute that I had a pork smothered burrito. Yum. Can't wait for the new Cafe Rio in Vegas to open. Supposedly in May now. Don't hold your breath, local fans, since they have been "gonna open" since January.

Friday night Tyler and I had date night with our friends, Robin and Jake. We ate at Elephant Bar in the district, where I enjoy their fettucine with mushrooms EVERY time I eat there. I am a creature of habit. Name a restaurant and I can tell you my "go-to" entree. I hardly ever branch out. It never fails that if I do try something new I won't like it and then I am bugged I didn't go with the tried and true. Oh well. Then we went and saw "Blades of Glory." It was funny, slightly uncomfortable, but funny. I am a Will Ferrell fan and Jon Heder is just the same Napolean with more spandex and sequins in this movie. A lot of funny one liners, of which I can't remember cuz I have a bad memory for stuff like that, but I will appreciate it when people start quoting it like they have with other Ferrell or Heder movies. GOSH!

Today was a hum-dinger. I am trying to keep up on my house work since I am sans Paula now. Yes, another mourning moment of silence would be appropriate. Tyler's aunt and uncle and cousins were in town so we had a big family BBQ this evening. After a ragball game (go Kenzie for being one of two kids from our ward to show up), a quick trip to Target, and even quicker trip to the grocery store this morning I was busy busy for the afternoon. I made potato salad, did 6 loads of laundry and folded them + two more, finished re-cleaning the house (which, let's be real, I will always be re-cleaning my house), sent an email for a open house party thing, and went swimming with my girls. I turned on the pool heater yesterday so it'd be warm enough today when the company came over. It ran through the night and shut off about 6am. Tyler checked it this morning, yeah, 100 degrees. No joke. By this afternoon/evening it had cooled to a balmy 96. It was like walking into a bathtub since it was warmer in the water than out. There were a lot of kids so you had NO idea who was peeing where and it was lovely. I am still on the hunt for a swim teacher since Caylee and I about had it out this afternoon when I tried to get her off the step of the big pool or out of the spa. Ugh.

Finally, tonight, I typed a talk for Mackenzie to give at church tomorrow since she's part of the Easter program. My favorite part she wrote was, "I am glad I am getting baptized when I am 8 and not when I am, like, 64 . . . not that being baptized at 64 is bad, even if you die the next day. . ." She's funny. The Easter bunny is eager for all of us to go to bed, so I will leave you with a picture attachment, since that makes a post so much more read-worthy (of the kids a couple of weeks ago when we first tried to heat the pool to a much more chilly 72 degrees). Happy Easter.

Swim Lesson Saga

This is "Part I" of what I hope to be a very short saga in the quest to get my kids enrolled in swim lessons. My current state of mind is "fired up" as I have just spent the last 37 minutes agonizingly trying to register my kids for swim lessons. One of the local rec centers has a great facility for swim lessons, but a less-than-great registration policy. Registration ONLINE began today at 1pm, by 1:15pm all the entry level swim classes were pretty much booked and I was not patient enough to stay online to even see if I could squeeze a kid here and there for their lessons. I know I am not the only one sitting in front of their computer freaking out every time you click something because the rec center's server is so touchy, and there are so many people trying to register, that you don't know if you'll be permitted to move on to the check-out. I actually think I'd prefer sitting in a line all night to register and to do it in person rather than doing it online. Then I could watch a person write all my kids into the class roster and if she freezes or takes an abnormally long time to complete a task, I could say something like, "HELLO??!!" or "Let's just start all over if I've just confused you to a point of inactivity." And then the real, live, human could say, "No, I am jut waiting to make sure those classes are all available before we get all set to pay and THEN find out they're no longer open. Plus, Ms. Barlow, since you waited in line, I can guarantee you'll be placed in the classes you want since nobody can cut you in line with a faster modem or keystroke abilities." Agh, like the good old days. And I am thinking, heaven forbid you don't have computer access and have to snail mail your registration . . . you are screwed. Because after a whopping 1 hour and 45 minutes of registration all sections of entry-level swim classes at henderson pools are booked! I am sure I could find some configuration of classes to match my three kids, but, again, not enough patience. I am figuring out what I can afford on private lessons and have someone come right over to my house and do it in one fail swoop. I will continue the saga later.

In other news. My Monday ended better than it started. I took the kids and two of their friends to the movie, "Meet the Richardsons." They had playdates and I rested on the couch as, apparantly, a menu of popcorn and Coke for the day does not settle so well in my tummy. We had dinner with Tyler's aunt and uncle from Texas over at Bruce and Dodie's. Happy Family night! I still wasn't feeling well enough to eat (which, if you've had pizza loaf before you know that was sacrifice), but by the time we sat around and chatted I was feeling better. We bathed the kids (a nightly ritual now that they constantly smell like sweaty-outside kids) and watched Dancing With the Stars and The Bachelor. I have to confess my wicked ways, too. When The Bachelor was coming on, Tyler declared he was going to our room to read and go to bed. When I asked him what he was gonna read, he told me probably his scriptures (yeah, I know, he's so great!) And what is my response? NOoooo, stay here with me and watch the Bachelor so we can make fun of all the girls. I am such a bad influence. He sat with me with much eye-rolling and sighing and commenting, and finally he sprawled out on the family room floor and went to sleep. I owe him for jeopardizing his eternal soul. I am sure I can figure a way to make it up to him. Until later . . . gotta go find a swim teacher.

Don't you hate it when . . .

(This post is dedicated to Stacy)

Don't you hate it when . . .

Your kids get up in the middle of the night whining about how their covers are cold even though the house is too warm due to the temperature rise over the weekend and your resistance to turn the air on. AND you want to argue the point with the aforementioned three year old since cool covers are, like, THE BEST (especially on a warm night.)

Some "R. Calloway" calls at 7:00am in the morning and doesn't leave a voice mail. So you wake up WAY before you are willing to only to think about who R. Calloway is and why he is calling at 7:00am when you'd rather be sleeping in. It's Spring Break for crying in the dark!

Your husband opens a door so that he can be cool enough thru the night and when "R. Calloway" calls at 7AM you can't go back to sleep since the birds are so freaking loud and some dog in the neighborhood is barking. So you tell him he needs to get up and shut the door, but he makes some comment about "why are you so grumpy?" and you tell him you're bugged about the phone call and the noise and he answers, "I think it's lovely to listen to the birds."

So you finally get up yourself and shut the door, lie back down, and then you can hear your baby awake shouting in his crib. Sigh. It's all "R. Calloway's" fault.

But then your wonderful husband gets up with the baby and keeps him occupied until a more decent hour of 8:30am when the husband HAS to leave for work (WHICH I AM NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT SINCE IT WAS THE BRIGHT SPOT SO FAR), but when he plops the wet-diapered, whining, hungry baby right by my ear to wake me up again? Seriously? Don't you hate that?

So you get up and fix oatmeal after digging the high chair tray out of the sink of dirty dishes and think you'll get on the ball and unload the dishwasher so you can load the very full sink of crusty weekend dishes. And then you realize after you've pulled everything out of the bottom rack that hadn't been washed because you spaced STARTING the dishwasher even though you can swear that you did start is, so you wonder if your dishwasher is broken/breaking?

And then you start to blog abou the way MONDAY has started and you remember you forgot to re-load the dirty silverware that you'd unloaded into the drawer. So, you have to stop your blog to go dig out the dirty ones from the clean ones.

Oh, and your baby just threw his bowl of oatmeal on the floor.

Don't you hate that? Happy Monday everyone.
Thank you. Thank you very much.