Just In Case You're Wondering...

- Destine does not rub on like lotion when applied to the arms, face, and hands.

- It is possible to remove crayon, marker, and highlighter drawings from the carpet. It's hard, but definitely possible.

- Pee stains can also be removed from the carpet with only a faint stench lingering behind.

- Downing almost 20 Prevacid in a 30 second time span does not cause any side effects- unless you consider tantrums and not listening a side effect.

- Smearing a gallon (slight exaggeration) of your Mom's new anti-wrinkle cream on a two year old face does not prevent wrinkles. In fact, I think it added more to my Mom's face. (Sorry Mom, I'll buy you more)

- Reading Twilight effects the psyche. Now my dreams are filled with vampires, werewolves, and halfbreed vampire babies.

- While we're on the subject. I'm protesting the moving because they got Edward all wrong. Isn't Edward supposed to be drop dead vampire beautiful? The Edward in the movie... Can we say UGLY? Not a fan folks.

- I promised myself that I would never admit to reading the Twilight series in public. I failed.

- The more your child walks around naked, the less laundry you'll have to do.

- Leaving sacrament meeting after just being peed on with grace and style is extremely difficult to pull off, but can be done. You just have to make sure you sit through a good 10 minutes of church to let the pee soak into the front and back of your skirt, wipe off your legs from the waterfall of pee remnants, and wipe out your new, now full of pee puddle shoes to ensure you don't slip on the way out as you make your graceful escape. Oh, and just make sure that you cover you child's mouth before she announces, "Momma, you got pee-pee in your pants".

Homeless

I need to preface this with the fact that I'm aware that I should be building up my child's self esteem instead of cutting them down. With that said,

Abrie walks into the room with her crazy messy hair and she was wearing last years way too small clothes. I took one look at her and thought, "EEEEK!". Then the conversation went as follows,

Me: "Oh, Abrie honey. You look like you don't have a home" another way to say she looks a little homeless.

Abrie: "But Mom, we don't have a home"

Me, amused with Abrie's comment: "Ummmm, I guess you're right. Keep dressing homeless then, but be aware that when we have a home this will have to stop"

Abrie, confused: "OK, Mom"

Our home status:

No home, not yet. Hopefully a home will become a reality in the next 10 years or so. Until then I get to enjoy telling people that we live in my parents basement, which is totally awesome because who wouldn't want to live in their parents house. I give it two enthusiastic thumbs up!!Owning a home is so overrated.... right?

Now this is the part where you reassure me, "Ya, ginnie. Owning your own home is terrible. It's so hard to have all that extra space and privacy. Really, you're better off without one".

Wow, I'm feeling better already!

Birthday Girl

It's hard to imagine that 6 years ago my world was rocked in a major way... the best way that is imaginably possible. I became a Mom.

There became a point in my little married life that the realization hit me; there's so much more to life then just living. I was going through the motions of life content and happy, but there was always a constant little tugging that something was missing. A little piece of the puzzle that was not yet complete... Well, that little something happened to be the best little something that could have ever happened to me. The birth of our beautiful baby girl.

I laid in bed tonight with Abrie telling her all about her birth- sparing her from the gory details and leaving out the I-thought-my-body-was-going-to-rip-in-two part. Her eyes were wide with anticipation, "Mom, did it hurt when you had me?!"... "No, not at all hun" I lied, "The doctor gave me this itty-bitty shot...." another lie, "and I couldn't feel a thing" that part was kind of the truth. Then she asks, "Mom, was I cute when I was a baby?" I couldn't have given a more honest response, "Sweetie, you were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen" and then my heart skipped a beat as I silently remembered those precious raw feelings I had the moment the doctor laid her on my chest, and the scent of newness filling the air. She had a certain calmness about her. It was almost as if, for that one moment, time was frozen still and nothing else seemed to matter. All fears and anxieties had left me and were soon replaced with a flood of gratitude and love for this new little infant. I looked up at Nate and then back down to this brand new piece of perfection that laid in my arms and thought, "Now this is life!".

Abrie, if by chance you're reading this 15 years from now (and assuming that you haven't disowned me). I just want you to know that I love you, love you, love you! You are one of the best and sweetest little things that has ever happened to me.

Love you loads! Mom

Trouble x 2

Life as a Mom is anything, but glamorous. Most days I'm lucky if I put a bra on let alone take a shower. Not that I have anything against taking showers. I am definitely pro shower. I just have a hard time finding the time to take them for a couple of reasons.

REASON #1:

REASON #2:

It seems that reason #1 & reason #2 find it the most opportune time when I'm in the shower, to cause havoc and chaos. Why? Why, must these two always be associated with the word trouble?

Example #1:

That is my make up strewn across they're faces... and hands... and clothes... and counter... and floor... and rug... and toilet... and sink. But how could I get mad? They look so happy.

Example #2:

Macie some how managed to find my Mom's markers and colored all over her deck. I guess she's just leaving them a little something to remember us by.

Example #3:

I have raised some self sufficient kids... sometimes too self sufficient. They were hungry, they needed to eat, they needed Cheerios, they needed to spill it all over the carpet. And to top it all off, Macie needed to go to the bathroom and she did it right there where she was sitting.

Example #4:

This is probably one of Macie's favorite spot in any house we visit. How else was she going to get that box of lemon heads with out climbing up into the pantry? And that, my friends, is a mouth full of lemon heads. The kicker was when I went to get her down off the counter and I noticed she was sitting in a pool of something... again, she peed her pants. So nasty.

After all these peeing incidents I decided to have a little talk with the kids about where we go to the bathroom. Do we pee in our pants? No. Do we pee on the floor? No. Do we pee on the counter? No. ? Then Kaleb interjects, "But Mom, sometimes when we pee we can go pee in cups!". I respond, "Umm, no honey we don't". Kaleb again replies, "uh, huh Mom ya we do. I pee in cups." I stood there confused and slightly worried for a second and then I asked, "Kaleb, what cups exactly do you pee in?", " The one in the bathroom, by the sink" Kaleb says sounding proud. I ask half way hoping that there was some other cup that I was unaware of hiding somewhere in the bathroom, "Kaleb, would that be the cup that everyone drinks out of after they've brushed their teeth?!". His answer was short and sweet, "Yep!". That then added to my list of where we do not pee. Despite how fun it may be, we most certainly DO NOT pee in cups.

I know that duct tape has multiple uses and would it be bad, say... I don't know, for like a half an hour if I just, so gently, taped the kids hands and feet together? I would do it in the most loving way possible. I would make sure that they were fully entertained infront of the TV and everything. Or would that be a little too much?

Can I Just Vent for a Minute?

haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, snnnnnnnahhhhh, grrrrrrrrrr, @@&! bbleeeee, $%@@#! seriously, @$@$^&!!!!!!.... hauuuuuueriddfjkghhet, erheitoejjkfeiub, haaaaah, haah, haaah, rrrrr, blabity, bligity, bla... grrrrrrr.... grrrr!

(deep cleansing breath)
Thanks for the vent, I knew you'd understand. Oh, and apparently I speak in tongues while I'm venting... who knew?!

Now that that's over with and out of the way I can continue...

So Macie came out of her room the other day looking like this,

My eyes were first drawn to the red hot, freshly smeared lipstick. Followed by the massive bright pink bow that no parent should subject their child to wear (but I do anyway) and the lovely must have accessories draped around her neck and arms.

So if you had to ask yourself who my poor sweet child looks like, who would you say? It only took me a second to decide.

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Hands down, no competition. A young 80's like-a-virgin Madonna and a sadly drunk Courtney love. Talk about a proud Mommy moment. My child is sure to succeed.

Oh, and the whole vent on the blog thing. Totally therapeutic. I feel better already!

I'm Not Old...

Well, at least I don't think I am... I am very much use to being the youngest wherever I go. I'm the youngest in my family so by default that makes me the baby. Whenever I tell people I'm the youngest of 8 I usually get the response, in a high pitched squeal, "Oh you're the baby!" -except for the occasion that I told some Hispanics that I was the youngest of 8 and they laughed and said, "Sus padres están como conejitos" which translates into your parents are like bunnies. I laughed until I understood what they meant.

I also have a lot of friends that are older than me more well seasoned than I am. I guess what I lack in age I make up for in maturity. I know what you're thinking, pffft, ya right! But seriously, I just ooze maturity... ahem.

So, where was I... oh, I'm not old. Well, the other evening I was talking with this girl. She was telling me that after I left her house she was going to go out to eat with her husband, then she quickly said, "I know we are going out a little late, but 9:00 is still early to me. I'm still young". The whole time she said this I was thinking to myself, is she referring to me as old. Me?! Does she know how not old I am? I did a quick glance around me just to make sure there weren't any elderly ladies standing behind me. Nope, no one was there. It was just me. I kind of felt like saying, "Oh, 9:00 really? Sometimes when I'm feeling wild I like to go out at 10:00 pm , but that's only when I'm feeling rebellious and crazy" but I didn't say anything. I just sat there, smiled, and nodded my head agreeing saying, "9:00, whew that's late". Then I went home, climbed into my moo-moo, turned on reruns of I Love Lucy and knitted a sweater.

Some TAGness!

Here are some tidbits of information I'm sure you've been dying to know.

1. What is his name? Nathan give-me-some-of-that-lovin’ Johnson

2. What is his Date of Birth? I’m pretty sure it’s sometime in May… or is it June? Either way I know he has one.

3. What is his social security number? 381-52-6969

4. How long have you been together? Since the pre-existence. When we were in heaven I sang the song, “Will I wait for you….” Pretty much like how it happened in Saturday’s Warriors.

6. How long did you date? Dating isn’t necessary when you know you’ve met your eternal companion. Love at first sight… need I say more.

5. Who eats more? What kind of a question is that? Uh, me. How else would Nate keep his manly figure? You’ve seen his old swim pictures. You know.

6. Who said I love you first? I don’t really remember. It wasn’t so much I love you, it was more like I lust you. In that case, it was probably me.

7. Who is taller? My dear sweet husband says he’s 5’10. He’s not. He’s only 5’9 (touchy subject, so I won’t go there) I’m only 5’3-ish, a tall 5'3-ish.

8. Who can sing better? My skills in shower singing far out do Nate’s. He will tell you, though, that he can actually follow notes when singing. I, on the other hand, have a tendency to make up my own parts. One shouldn’t be subject to sing all soprano or alto. Why not mix it up a bit?

9. Who is smarter? Really, does it matter who’s smarter? I choose to focus on our strengths, not our weaknesses.

10. Whose temper is worse? I make it a point to never raise my voice above a whisper when I’m angry. How can love and harmony reside in an environment like that?

11. Who does the laundry? The maid, and when the maid’s not around to do it, usually no one. But then when the laundry starts reeking and we’ve used all of our socks twice and worn our underwear both inside and out I eventually do it.

12. Who pays the bills? Usually no one. We’re playing a game, it’s called let’s see how much debt we can get in before we have to claim bankruptcy. You can play too. Let’s see who wins first.

13. Who sleeps on the right side? Nate would say that it’s not a matter of right or left. It’s a matter of who sleeps on the bed and who sleeps on a corner of the bed. In that case I sleep on the bed.

14. Who mows the lawn? Well we only have one lawn and that’s our imaginary lawn and Nate would be the one that mows our imaginary lawn complete with symmetrical designs. I like to mow the lawn too, except when I do it I like to write my name in cursive with the lawn mower. It’s pretty tricky, but can be done.

15. Who cooks dinner? Again, the maid. Thanks Mom, you’re the best!!! (I kid, I kid)

16. Who kissed who first? If you know me at all, you’ll know that I would never make the first move. I’m way too shy. Nate, being the mac daddy that he is, totally made the first move. It was kind of like that scene from the Note Book, minus the rain and the fornication.

17. Do you make it a usually practice to use the word fornication? Nope, first time and now that I’ve used it I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Not a fan. What kind of a word is that? foooor.niii.caaate. Just doesn’t sound pretty, especially in slow motion.

18. Who asked who out? It was mutual. My grandma was there when we met. We both exchanged phone numbers then my grandma added, “Make sure to get your addresses. Back in my day we use to do drive-by’s”. My response to that was, “Grandma, we still do drive-by’s, except now a days they’re usually called drive-by shootings. I’m pretty sure it’s not the same.”

19. What attracted Nate to you? I’m sure it was my strong spiritual vibe that I was putting off.

20. Who wears the pants? Actually, we both do. We’ve tried going without and the results are not pretty. Not pretty at all.

Move Over Tighty-Whities...

Sexy has a new name, and its name is SPEEDO.

I've been watching the Olympics pretty faithfully every night and just recently diving has been on. What an amazing sport it is to do all of those flip and turns and to do it all in a teeny-tiny spandex loin cloth.

To be honest, I've never been a big fan of the speedo. That is until just recently.

Daniel Craig, who played James Bond, did quite a nice job sporting the 'swim briefs' and I thought to myself, OK, not so bad.. alright, alright. Maybe some men can pull it off.

Now after watching the men's diving I'm pretty much sold on the speedo.

The speedo serves two purposes, to cut back on the waters drag during the entrance of the water and to look good while doing it. I find that the 'look good while doing it' part is of greater importance. I mean, how can one complain. Diving is really a beautiful sport.

But to be honest, what really sold me on the speedo was this,

This is probably one of my most favorite pictures of Nate. I dug this picture up from one of his old diving days. (I hope he doesn't kill me for this. I know how embarrassed he gets when I even mention the word speedo let alone post a picture of him in one.)

This picture was taken in '99 when he was part of a Puerto Rican swim team. His nick name use to be los bollos de acero which translates into to English as buns of steel (because he use to be able to crush a soda can just by flexing his buttocks). I usually just called him the Rack Attack(because his rack was so much larger then mine). Then Nate would do this funny thing where he would say, "Do you know where the Vet is?" and I would unknowingly say, "No, why?" Nate in return would reply, "Cause these puppies are SICK!" then he would flex his biceps and make them do a little bicep dance. So funny. Gets me every time.

Can You Hear Me?... Can You Hear Me Now?

I’ve read the rules, signed the papers, and have officially joined the club of cell phone owners. I hope I can live up to this responsibility. I know, I know. Big step. I’m moving up in the world of technology. I’m pretty sure I’m one of the only people I know that hasn’t owned a cell phone. Well, there was this one time that I worked at Payless Shoes (not one of the finest points in my life) and a guy came in and tried to sell me a cell phone. I bought it, started feeling guilty then called him back within 10 minutes and returned it. But during those 10 brief minutes of cell phone ownership I felt so free, so accessible, so… so cell phone-able. It was a good feeling.

Since that time many, many years ago, I have been cell phone-less. It’s been tough, but I’ve managed to make it through. I’ve gone over what-would-you-do scenarios in my head if I was left with a problem where I desperately needed a cell phone. One of the greatest needs for a cell phone would be if my car broke down (totally feasible), what would I do if I couldn’t call anyone due to the fact that I didn’t own a cell phone? Well, I would do what any self respecting woman would do. Put my hazards on, pop the hood, and then show a little leg. Then hopefully someone would stop to help me that had a cell phone, and hopefully that someone doesn’t happen to fall into the category of psycho rapist slash killer. In which case, my whole plan would just backfire.

Or there’s always the scenario where I’m lost in the wilderness of Utah without food and water (totally feasible). And the only possessions I have is a nail file to provide protection and my skill of weaving tree leaves together to offer shelter from the elements. I would have to rely on my limited knowledge of making fire without matches (I’ve watched Survivor Man) then make enough smoke so I could signal SOS to passing planes. Eventually someone would come and I’m sure they would have a cell phone and hopefully that someone doesn’t happen to fall into the category of psycho rapist slash killer either.

Clearly cell phones are of good use.

So I’ve been brushing up on my text talk. I’m not quite sure if I’m cut out for this texting stuff. It’s serious business. It takes me 10 minutes to write just one word, but since I’ve been practicing I’ve shaved nearly 3 minutes off my text time bringing it down to 7 minutes and 36 seconds per one word. I found It useful to just give everything an acronym and I’ve made up some of my own;

SUNFW- Shut Up, No Freakin’ Way!
CYSST?- Can You Super Size That? (This one I mostly use through the drive thru at McDonalds. They have no idea what you’re saying, but it sure cuts down on your ordering time.)
DTPMMLF?- Does This Phone Make Me Look Fat?
MM@CR- Meet Me At Café Rio
LOL…ITIJWMP NR- Laugh Out Loud… I Think I Just Wet My Pants. No, Really.
HIOODC- Help, I’m Out Of Diet Coke!
?!- He/She said what?
UUNYD- Uh, Uh, No You Di’int!
DHMCIGF- Don’t Hate Me Cause I’m Ghetto Fabulous
IHSKF$... IGYGD- I Have Some Kids For Sale... I Give You Good Deal

Really, the possibilities are endless with this texting stuff. So fun!
Feel free to call or text me anytime (just make sure it’s between 9:00pm-12:00am Monday thru Friday, and weekends only). If you have any more good texting lingo I would love for you to shoot it my way.

TSMYATS! (that's text talk for Thanks So Much, You Are The Shizzle!)

There's a Full Moon Rising

So, what do your kids do when they're unsupervised and unattended and left to find their own form of entertainment?

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Mine jump naked on the tramp.
I swear they didn't get that from me. At least, I'm pretty sure they didn't.