Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Bloggers Unleashed

When did blogging become my life? Three months ago I got on my computer once a month, maybe, to check my e-mail and catch up on the family webites. Now I have to force myself to not sit down at my computer and do the stuff I actually need to do.

Why is this? Why am I so infatuated with people learning about me, and me about them? I have been mulling over this for a few days now, ever since we all started the 100 lists. And this is my theory:

Think of blogging as alcohol. (Just bear with me.) Now, I've never been drunk, but I know from movies and, well, high school, that drinking lowers your inhibitions. That's the way I see blogging. We can all finally say what we've always wanted to say but couldn't for fear of sounding stupid and having to see the look on the face of the person we are talking to.

Now we can say whatever we want (or close to it) and we come across as cool and honest, because we're bloggers! If I was talking to someone and they started spouting off 100 things about themselves, I would have thought, "How self-centered is she?" Or if they started going on and on about a very depressing trip to the therapist I would have been like, "Um, hi Debbie Downer." But I can't get enough of what people I know have to say, if it's in print. There's just something about reading it instead of hearing it. Where else could we brag about our good qualities and not sound conceited?

It sucks that this is how we are. It sucks that we feel like we can't just express what we feel. Why do we always have to preface something that is heartfelt with, "Okay, this is totally cheesy, but..."? And why do we feel we have to apologize for taking one post out of fifty to vent about our parental frustrations? I know for me I always worry people are going to think I'm all dark and depressing, but, come one, one out of fifty? And really, who isn't going through the exact same thing?

It's ironic because we're all terrified of what people will think when we do get all serious and deep, and yet, so far, on these blogs, it's been met with nothing but praise for being honest. And those are my favorites! I would take a deep post about someone's inner-most thoughts over a cute anectote any day.

So, that's my theory. Reading it back it sounds kind of all over the map, but it makes sense in my head and I am not about the re-write the whole thing. Basically, fellow bloggers, I am saying embrace your newfound vocal independence, take the opportunity to let it all out, and try not to think about the reactions on our faces as we read it.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

101 Things About Me

1. I love Taco Bell.
2. I hate gourmet food.
3. Growing up I thought high school would be exactly like it was in Grease.
4. I despise vegetables, but am learning to like broccoli.
5. Wounds and injuries make me queasy, even on t.v.
6. I loved all those WB shows like Dawson's Creek and Felicity way too much.
7. I spend about $20 a month on gum.
8. I'm learning I've lost the ability to be child-like and playful.
9. Before I had kids I slept in til 3:00 p.m.
10. I love Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream.
11. I hate jazz, opera, and classical music.
12. I truly believe my mind works differently than most others'.
13. I was first put on anti-depressants at the ripe old age of 14, only to find out later it was never approved for kids under 18.
14. I wish desperately I could afford to have tips on my nails all the time.
15. I have only ever lived in Washington state, and only in three cities.
16. I broke my arm at my cousin Marilyn's 8th birthday party trying to be cool by jumping off the top of a swing set.
17. I am very good at detail work, things that require the fine motor skills.
18. I love to clean and do it all day long, but never have a clean house.
19. I have recently been unofficially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
20. I hate to be seen without makeup on.
21. I wish real-life was as passionate and dramatic as it is in the movies, especially the romance ones.
22. I am a good listener.
23. I went snowboarding one took me an hour and half to get down the mountain, and I spent the rest of the day in the lodge drinking hot chocolate. This sentence is the same for Danyelle.
24. I am terrified of doing anything new and daring, and yet I love it.
25. When I watch movies I picture myself doing those things in real life. When I experience something new, I picture myself in a movie doing it.
26. I have cousins whose names I don't know.
27. I wish I was a better photographer.
28. I got engaged to a man I'd never met. He had no idea what I looked like. We had talked online for one week. Three months later we got married.
29. I always hated how ordinary I am, how few interesting facts there were about me.
30. In 8th grade I filled six journals.
31. I despise all things 80's, except the rock ballads.
32. I've always believed I was meant for something special.
33. I am the most insecure person I know.
34. I am very sensitive to people's feelings.
35. This is way harder than I ever thought it would be.
36. I spend most of my time worrying about what other people think of me.
37. I am the most complex person I know.
38. I've always wished my siblings and I were closer.
39. I loved to play sports and was pretty good at some of them, but then I found boys.
40. I probably could have been a straight A student, but barely graduated.
41. I used to think pickles grew in a jar.
42. I will only eat Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing.
43. I love anything that is hands-on.
43. I cannot sit still without falling asleep or getting very, very antsy.
44. My shoe size was a 7 all through high school and even after having Macy, but grew to an 8 after Payson.
45. I hate fish but will eat salmon.
46. I absolutely love shellfish.
47. I wear my wedding ring on my middle finger.
48. I am an awesome typist (is that a word?)
49. I won almost every story-writing competition I entered in elementary school.
50. My second toe is longer than my big toe on both feet. My nickname in high school was E.T.
51. I have an abnormally small cervix. (Sorry, but I find it very interesting!)
52. I will write a novel before I die.
53. My calling exhausts me.
54. People are surprised that for as much as I love movies, I hate the old ones.
55. I love new technology.
56. I love to make people laugh. It still shocks me to hear people say I'm funny. I was never known as funny growing up. Never.
57. I regret how many friendships I let fade away.
58. I have never reached my ninth month of pregnancy.
59. I have no idea what a contraction feels like.
60. I have to have chapstick on 24/7.
61. Growing up I absolutely hated that I was a brown-eyed blonde, not a blue-eyed blonde. Now I love it.
62. I get sad when I think about high school and middle school. I have no idea why.
63. Every Thursday I see Macy sit in the same pit in the same Kindergarten classroom that I sat in 22 years ago.
64. All I ever wanted was a boyfriend and to be married from the time I was 11.
65. I have never gained less than 50 lbs. during pregnancy. Maximum has been 80.
66. I couldn't give blood my senior year of high school because I weighed less than 100 lbs.
67. I have the cutest kids on the planet.
68. I was only 15 credits away from getting my AA when I got married and stopped going to school. I doubt I will ever finish it.
69. I have never been furthur east than Montana and Arizona.
70. The only wrecks I have ever been in that were my fault was crashing into my garage...twice.

71. I despise dusting and washing dishes. I love rinsing dishes.
72. I worked as a counselor with the ARC the summer before my senior year as was one of the coolest things I've ever done.
73. I absolutely love my name and always have.
77. I hate that I wasn't invited to my Sr. Homecoming.
78. I am the happiest depressed person I know.
79. My first and only concert I have ever been to was Clay Aiken/Kelly Clarkson three years ago. I loved it.
80. When I was young I wanted to be an author, a psychiatrist, and an actress. But I always knew I'd be a mom.
81. I got five tickets in high school, two of them in one week. Never had one warning.
82. My parents considered naming me Harmony so they would always have harmony in their home.
83. I have always loved being the center of attention as long as it was positive attention.
84. I don't remember planning my wedding. I didn't care. I wanted to elope to the temple, whatever it took to get married fastest.
85. I have never seen E.T., the original Star Wars movies, and many other of the classic movies that "everyone" has seen.
86. I saw Titanic in the theater 9 times.
87. I hate math.
89. The only thing I fear almost as much as throwing up is being publicly embarassed.
90. I never swear.
91. I love clothes, especially shoes.
92. I can't wait to build my dream home with my theater and back yard that has a waterfall that pours into a pool made of rock that we can swim in.
93. I love the thought of people learning little things about me.
94. I had 4 serious boyfriends in high school, each one I was convinced I was going to marry.
95. My favorite flower is the lily, followed by the rose.
96. I can't roll my R's.
97. After 7 years of Spanish, I can read almost anything but can barely speak it.
98. I love the thought that I chose this life and I chose my anxiety and phobia.
99. I can't wait for the eternities with no fear, no physical ailments, just me and my family.
100. I love that we have an automatic best friend in Jesus Christ who knows what we feel.
101. I love being a member of this church.

Friday, January 26, 2007

The Infected Tooth Diet

Yea! I just had to write a new post, simply because I could. Apparently it's just as everyone said, when you switch to the new blogger, you get nothing but crap for a week and then suddenly it's better. Woohoo! So, to update everyone, I went in and got prepped for my crown and got a temporary put on, it was soooo long and not fun at all but luckily they warned me it would be so, so I went prepared with my iPod and just listened to Enya so as to calm myself and just picture sailing away on the Carribean. It was kind of funny though, because I was numb from my chin to my ear to my eye, my ear phone kept falling out and I had no idea because I couldn't feel anything different. And I couldn't tell it sounded different over all that drilling. So the wonderful hygenist (assistant?) would hand it to me and ask if I wanted to put it back in. She's a nice lady.

So, of course I couldn't have just walked away with a temporary crown to wait patiently for three weeks to get my real crown. No, no, my tooth had to get infected, of course. My cheek felt weird, like when you have the flu and your skin hurts when you touch it, it felt like that, and it was hot, and my ear hurt, and it hurt to blink that eye. Not to mention my tooth, which was all swollen and hurt really bad to chew on. But dear old Dr. Rob with his dear old ability to prescribe drugs put me on an antibiotic and sent me on my merry way.

So, as I wait to be able to chew on that side once again, I am savoring the fact that I really don't want to eat anything, which fares well for my mission to get skinny. I have been doing awesome this week, as far as the eating part goes. The exercise part, not so much. When your tooth hurts with every step you take, you don't really want to go mall-walking.

Tune in next time, I may jump on the "100 Things About Me" bandwagon and do a list of my own. Those lists are just too much fun, and really, how much is there to say about my oh-so-exciting life?

Monday, January 22, 2007

I Secretly Wish

Sorry everyone, my computer wasn't letting me onto my blog for some reason, but I'm back.
I saw this on a scrapbook page in Simple Scrapbooks magazine and thought it would be fun to do.

I secretly wish.....

~ I was a famous actress
~ I could speak every language there is in the world, especially sign
~ Life had a soundtrack by Enya
~ I had a beautiful singing voice
~ I was in my 2nd trimester of pregnancy (no, I'm not pregnant.)
~ I was a dancer
~ I had pretty toes that my husband wouldn't make fun of
~ I was taller
~ Taking a mid-day nap was mandatory, and no one could judge me for it
~ They discovered that it's actually sugar that's good for you, not Splenda
~ I was more self-confident, especially as a mother and a friend
~ I lived in a beach hut on the shores of Kauai
~ My kids will be popular but at the same time not care that they are
~ I didn't have to take anti-depressants for the rest of my life
~ I could turn invisible at will
~ I was everybody's best friend
~ I could play the piano
~ No one ever had to be afraid
~ Bill only had to work half day
~ We were all incapable of judging each other
~ I had a theater in my house
~ When we reach the here-after there will be a question/answer period
~ I could just think about being showered and it would be done
~ I had the ability but even more importantly the desire to cook
~ My shortcomings as a mother would have no effect on my kids whatsoever
~ I drove a brand new SUV
~ Pop was water, and vice versa
~ I had a maid
~ I had a ten second delay for censoring purposes
~ I could make someone's life easier and happier
~ I had a time machine
~ I could eat out for every meal
~ I had paid more attention in school
~ I had more "me" time
~ That I was still as naturally blonde as I was in high school
~ That people will find this list interesting

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Listen To Your Dentist

I've had this cracked tooth for about four years or so now, and I've learned how to chew on it without putting that much pressure on it. So it hasn't bothered me at all unless I suddenly got something hard right there without knowing it and bit down and it would hurt so bad I would want to cry. But this happened so rarely, and the cost of getting it fixed was more than our humble little checking account could handle, so, I put it off. And off. And off. Every six months at my check-ups, my dentist would say, "You know, we really ought to fix that cracked tooth." And I'd say, "I know, I know, soon." And he'd submit it my insurance to have it approved and find out how much they would cover and how much I'd have to pay. Then I'd get a statement in the mail from my insurance that said, "You're too poor to get this tooth fixed" or something to that effect. So another six months would go by, the submission and permission from my insurance would expire, and we'd start back over.
Who knew you should do what your dentist says?
Last night I was enjoying my low-cal Smart Pop Kettle Corn, and just as I was thinking, "Look at you, eating all healthy" CRACK! A sneaky little un-popped kernel slipped right between the cracked tooth and the tooth above it and poor unsuspecting me crunched right down. I literally heard the crack, and my tooth was throbbing.
After I stopped screaming like a little girl, I quickly felt it with my tongue. Nothing different. Odd, I thought, I must have just worsened the crack. So, the pig that I am, the second the throbbing began to lessen somewhat, I dug out another handful of popcorn (I had to eat it before it got cold and stale!) and chewed very carefully on my right side so as not to worsen the pain or add stress to my cracked tooth. Then something sneaky and hard got me on the right side, only this time it was so hard I knew it couldn't be a kernel. Sure enough, I spat out a chunk of tooth. Again, I felt that tooth with my tongue and this time, there was a gaping hole. I have no idea why it took a minute for the piece to actually fall off, but it did, and the only good part about it was the throbbing stopped.
I have always been totally freaked out and disgusted by broken teeth or stubby teeth in my mouth, so I was not a happy camper. And if I touched it with my tongue at all, it hit a nerve and sent a shock wave through my mouth. I was terrified to eat or drink anything, not knowing what would zap that nerve.
I managed to get a drink that night, eat breakfast and brush my teeth (but not that one) with minimal pain and discomfort, and the dentist got me in at eleven to look at it and take X-Rays. Luckily, they still just needed to do the crown they were originally planning on when the tooth was just cracked. I was so relieved, I had been so worried this break would mean a more extensive and expensive procedure. But all they had time to do today was cover it with this temporary protective stuff to protect the nerve and spare me some pain, so I have to go back on Monday to get the crown. So until then I'm stuck with this stubby piece of a tooth that still hurts and I can't bare to touch with my tongue. Yuck.
The most humbling part of the whole thing was, this morning, as I was thinking about writing about this on my blog, this perfect title popped into my head: "Listen To Your Dentist." I thought it was cute. Then-get this-I get to my dentist's office and sit in the waiting room and directly across the room from me, hanging on the wall, staring down at me was poster that said, in bold letters: Listen To Your Dentist, with a picture of a dentist pointing threateningly at me. I couldn't believe it! Boy did I learn my lesson. From now on, I will listen to my dentist, even if it means selling our house to get a cracked tooth fixed.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Fatty No More

Well, today begins the 5ooth attempt to lose this weight. I am so determined (I know, I've never said that before, right?) this time. I have joined another Biggest Loser contest, (or as Bill refers to it, The Fatties) and although the fee to join was less this time, the price I had to pay to join was much bigger: weighing myself in front of other people. Yup. Me, on a scale, with four sets of eyes watching the numbers go up and up and up. It was like living out my worst nightmare, although, since there was no vomit involved, I suppose it can't really be called my worst nightmare.
Anyway, it was worth it because I am soooo motivated and I am so gonna win! Next time you see me say goodbye to my fat rolls because they aren't going to be around much longer. I have become an exercising, dieting machine, my friend. And I have the added motivation of my high school reunion this summer, and I always knew I'd lose the weight before then, or I'm not going. So since it's already coming off for sure, I may as well get paid for doing it, right? :)
So America, next time you see me I'll be 50 lbs. lighter and you won't even recognize me. (That was my best Biggest Loser impersonation.)

Thursday, January 11, 2007

On A Serious Note....

I hate to get all serious and stuff, but I think it's no secret that I've been struggling lately, hence my last post. Today Macy and I went to her therapist (most of you know about the whole eyelash/eyebrow pulling issue she has) and her therapist told me the last thing every mother wants to hear: that my anxieties, no matter how well I mask them, are affecting Macy and causing her anxiety. Let me tell you, I'm not a crier, and I was fighting the tears. I cannot tell you the guilt it gave me. But.......
There is a silver lining. It was totally the wake-up call I needed. I realized that so much of the problems I have been having with Macy and my kids in general is things I need to change about myself. It was sort of something I knew all along, but this was the slap in the face that woke me up to it, made me realize it I just need to suck it up and make these changes.
I know it's going to be hard, but I know ultimately it will make my life, and more importantly, my kids' lives so much better.
I'm still planning on buying Love and Logic, but a lot of what I need to change I already know.
It's just the changing part that's so scary.
Anyway, basically her therapist told me that she wanted to start focusing less on Macy and more on me, because we can't help Macy's anxieties until we fix mine. So now Macy's therapist is my therapist. That was a tad unexpected. But I'm hopeful. I know I need this.
Sorry to get so heavy and deep on you all, but life's not always giggles and jokes, right?
So, send good thoughts my way that I can do this, because change has never been easy for me.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007


Okay, I don't think I've used my blog yet to get out my "Mommy" frustrations, so I think I'm due. I know we've all been there, it's nothing you haven't heard before, but I swear, so often I feel as if I am the only one with these problems. At least, I'm the only one that vocalizes it.
Basically I'm ready to pack my bags and go to Hawaii. Bill can come if he wants to, but if he doesn't, I have an automatic baby-sitter.
My kids are making me crazy!!! From the moment Macy got home from school yesterday til the time she went to bed last night, she did nothing but whine, complain, argue with me, and then whine some more. I don't know what is with her. She usually whines and argues with me a couple times a day, but not all day long. It's probably only the third time in Payson's life that he's the easy one. And he's making me crazy, too! That should tell you how bad Macy is being.
Granted, she's been sick with a cough and cold, so maybe that explains it, but still, if I have to hear her whimper one more time that anything with sugar makes her cough, I'm going to send her to Hollywood where her drama will be appreciated.
And don't get me started on the whole pants thing. I love that she's a girly girl and a princess and all that, but somehow this girl has got to learn that pants are cute, too. I am a jeans girl. I have always been a jeans girl. I was a complete tomboy growing up. So it absolutely infuriates me that I buy these totally cute, trendy jeans for her and she refuses to wear them. Every single morning is a battle with her over what she's going to wear, and it always ends up with me storming off saying, "Fine, wear whatever you want" and her in tears (until I say "wear whatever you want" then the tears magically go away.) I love Friday's because it's P.E. and she knows she has to wear pants and completely accepts it because her teacher says so, not me. Maybe her teacher can tell her that whining will give her germs and arguing with her mother will stunt her growth. Anything her teacher says is law.
Then there's her new favorite hobby: Doing things to Payson simply to ruffle his feathers and get him to cry. Because then not only am I yelling at her to knock it off and leave him alone, but I have to deal with him crying 75% of the day. And I know I am not alone in the fact that there are times your own child's cry can send you into a nervous breakdown. And Payson's cry is more of a......screech. The very sound of it raises the hairs on the back of my neck and sends me into overdrive.
But none of this is anything compared to the thing that is by far the hardest, and here is where I feel completely alone as far as other mothers being able to relate:
My kids have absolutely no concept of entertaining themselves. None. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I played with them too much as babies, or let them watch way too much t.v. as toddlers, I don't know. But I would rewind time and go back and change whatever it is I did wrong in a heartbeat, just for five minutes to myself. People might judge me for how many movies my kids watch in a day, but this is why, and this is the only reason why: It is the only way I get anything done, the only way I am left alone for any period of time.
They have bedrooms full of toys that they don't touch. They don't even go to their bedrooms except to sleep, and it's not even like their bedrooms are upstairs in no-man's land or on the other side of the house. They are right there, two feet from the family room.
Let me give you an example of just how bad it is. This happened just last night when Bill was at school:
(To set the scene, I had just heard Payson screech for the fiftieth time because Macy wouldn't ride scooters with him.)

Me (in a very friendly voice so they didn't think they were being punished): "Okay, for the next half hour I want you to play in your room, Payson, and Macy, you in yours. You're not in trouble, I just want you to play apart from each other for awhile. You can do whatever you want, play with whatever you want, just not together, and in your own rooms."

Instant crying

Them: "I DON'T (sob) WANT TO (wail) GO TO (breath) MY ROOOOOOOM!"

Me: "No, you're not in trouble....." What's the point, they'll go if they think they're in trouble.

Payson goes into his room and closes the door. He cries for a while, then starts playing with his Leap Pad (there is hope for him.)

Macy goes into her room wailing. She stops. I happily go and rotate the laundry, cherishing the silence. No more than two minutes later, Macy is standing in the doorway of the laundry room. "Can I help you?" She says, whining. I start to shake a little. I repeat everything I said before, about staying in her room. She leaves.

Two minutes later, she's in the doorway again. "Can I just play in the family room?" My eye starts to twitch. Are you kidding me? What part of "in your room" did you not understand? Are my kids really this dense?

I'm gonna go ahead and censor myself now, as the next part was one of those moments all mothers have that they're not the most proud of. Let's just say I went a little crazy. Macy went to her room, and actually stayed this time. When I went in about 45 mins. later (oops) she was laying on her bed, picking at her cuticles. Seriously. Not even when being confined to her room, forced to play with her toys, can she play with her toys.

I give up.

Sunday, January 7, 2007

Primary Pandemonium

Well, the first Sunday of the new year was nothing less than chaotic. I was so excited for it, mainly because Payson was going to be joining us in the primary room as a brand new Sunbeam, and I couldn't wait to see this tiny little boy sitting in one of the little yellow chairs staring up at me, enthusiastically doing the motions to "Popcorn Popping."
I knew things would be a little crazy at the beginning, but I had no idea of the mayhem that would hit around 3:15. I left during the closing song in Sacrament Mtg. as always, and walked into a quiet, near-empty, neatly organized primary room. I got my stuff together and sat on my chair, excitedly waiting for the primary kids to come, and more importantly, the new Sunbeams.
It was like the quiet before the storm.
For anyone not familiar with our primary, last year we had about 30 Sunbeams. Those Sunbeams bumped up to CTR 5, to be replaced by 30 new Sunbeams. Our primary room is bursting at the seams.
So besides the normal new-year chaos of kids trying to find their new seats and new teachers, parents lingering to help said kid find their new seat and new teacher, we had about 30 three-year olds, hopped up on on fruit snacks and Cheerios, ready to get out all the pent-up energy they have so righteously been storing for the last hour and ten minutes.
And each of those three year old's parents, usually both, which meant two parents for every three year old.
It reminded me of one of those stock-broker rooms, with all the bodies shoulder to shoulder, people talking loudly, but all muddled together so you can't actually make out any one conversation. Of course there were the obligatory four kids screaming, clawing at their parents as they tried to pry them from their blouses and suit coats and hand them to the teacher who is silently muttering, "Only two hours......two short hours.....I can do this....blessings in heaven.....blessings in heaven....."
The temperature in the room had to be at least 85. It was stifling. I was instantly dripping in sweat.
Then Payson came in, followed shortly by his best bud, Nicklaus. As Nicole (his mom) walks by, she says to me, "I'm so glad they're in the same class."
"Oh, me too!" I said excitedly, just learning that they are.
Nicole, I want to be the one to tell you that already our two sons are those two boys. You know, the two that you can't let sit by each other or all they do is goof off and mess with each other and don't pay attention? Yup, seperated within the first five minutes.
What on earth was I thinking? I should have known that my son, who cannot sit still for more than five minutes would have been, well, what's a nice word for "out of control?"
Every time I looked at him his face was half an inch away from Nick's face, his lips sticking out like he was about to blow a rasberry on Nick's cheek. I swear, he was totally oblivous to the fact that there was someone up at the front talking. Even when it was his mother leading him in Popcorn Popping!
After they were seperated, he sat and scowled at me for about fifteen minutes, slumped down in his chair, arms cross, legs dangling (it took everything in me to keep from busting out laughing in the middle of my songs). It was like I was looking at my Kindergarten self. (For anyone who hasn't seen it, that is exactly what I looked like in my Kindergarten class picture.)
But the best part came when the whole primary was sort of let loose to plant seeds in Dixie cups as classes, and Payson suddenly realizes I'm the one whose been up there the whole time, and comes up to me whining that he wants to go to class. (This means nursury.) I try to explain to him this is his class, and if he goes and sits with it, in just a minute he will go to class and get a snack (please, please have snacks for them!). It actually works, and he disappears into the sea of bodies that was the Sunbeams, and I sit and think how proud I am that he went back to his seat like a good boy.
Nope. Not 30 seconds later, he comes rounding the outside of the chairs clear over by the piano, actually running, poor Brother Tracy chasing after him.
Is this seriously my son? The kid whose primary teacher has to chase him around the room? And did it stop there? Nope, five minutes later, the replay. There they go again.
I don't know what possessed me to think his Sunbeam experience would be the same as his sister's, momentary insanity, I suppose, but I learned today that my son, despite my best efforts and intentions, is a typical boy. Or worse. Brother Tracy never had to chase Nicklaus around the room, and sweet little Kaden sat on the front row like an old pro absorbing every word and reading his mini-scriptures! Come on, people, help me out here. Where did I go wrong?

So, needless to say, I came home and threw a party that today was over. And by "threw a party" I mean came home and stuffed my face (it was fast sunday) and sat on my butt and loved that it was over. I only hope next week is better. Each week I find myself dreaming of being on the Enrichment Board, or teaching a Sunday School class.
And Nicole, I understand if you pull Nicklaus out of Payson's class, due to the bad influence and all.
Oh great, now he's that kid!

Monday, January 1, 2007

New Years Resolutions....A Poem, by Alicia Leppert

For my first resolution, I want to lose weight.
Having a waistline would really be great.
Second I'm going to stick to my budget.
My platinum Visa? I won't even touch it.
I'm going to work out an hour each day
I'll wear my bikini on Oprah in May.
I'll read the scriptures from cover to cover
When I've memorized one book, I'll just start another.
I'll have dinner ready each evening by five
McDonald's revenue will soon take a dive.
I'll go to bed early and give up my naps
(I swear I just heard a "yeah, right" and a laugh.)
I'll play with my kids each an hour a day
I'll throw the t.v. and their movies away
Once that's all accomplished I'll fly to the moon
then solve worldwide hunger and violence, real soon.
So let's be realistic and freely admit,
that six weeks from now, my clothes still won't fit,
I'll be in the drive-through at old Mickey D's
with my Visa in hand to avoid bounced-check fees
I'll be up long past ten, and take three hour naps
while my kids sit there watching Boots, Dora and Map.
I will try the scriptures, at least a few books,
then maybe my failures will be overlooked!