Just So You Know

this post originally published November 5, 2008

If you open your refrigerator and it is really smelly (I'm talkin' P to the Yew!), it could be the furry rice that has spent a good portion of last month chillin' on the top shelf. You should remove it from the fridge. Chances are, there are additional unidentifiable items at the way back.





If you decide to wash the container the rice is in instead of throwing it away, which was your first instinct, you should take a few precautions. If you decide to dispose of the fuzzy rice down the garbage disposal, it would be nice if you had a plunger just for your kitchen, because it is possible that the rice may perhaps probably clog up your disposal. If you don't have a plunger specifically designated for kitchen use only, you will have to use your bathroom plunger, and a gallon or more of bleach. Because you are going to gross out just thinking about it afterwards.





And when you flip the switch to the insinkerator (that's what mine says on it, does yours?) you will be mesmerized by the gentle swirling motion of the water and bits of rice and the slurping sound of a non-functioning insinkerator. And then you will snap back to reality and notice that nothing is draining. This is when you will have to grab your bathroom plunger. And do your best not to think of where it has been. And you will be way bummed that you are babysitting someone's kids. So you can't run to the store and get a new, clean plunger- designated for kitchen use only. Be sure to block out a half hour of your day, have your secretary hold your calls and wear a sweat band. And you will close your eyes and start plunging. Like you never plunged before. And then, probably most importantly, don't forget to cover up this little thing










because once you start plunging, all that chopped up fuzzy rice will come spewing right out at ya. After a few plunges you will get a brain and realize you could avoid all the spray. This is when you will put your big blue mixing bowl in front of it in order to divert the icky sludge. Be sure to plunge long and hard. And when your biceps are burning, don't forget to spend a few minutes working on the drain on the other side of the sink. You'll have to remove the bowl so that the plunger can work undisturbed, but that's ok because this side doesn't spit back.

And then you will turn on your garbage disposal and everything will drain beautifully. And you will want to do a herkie, right there in your kitchen, so that your fridge and oven can witness your awesomeness. And you will feel triumphant because you didn't have to call the husband or a plumber. And that's when you break out the bleach and then write "kitchen plunger" on your shopping list.

Recharging

I'm off to the well
to refill my bucket.

I'm pretty thirsty.

I hope you are, too.
I'll give you a drink
when I return.

In the meantime
I am digging deep
into the archives
for my posts-

just so you don't waste

a click when you come to check out my page.




Many sincere apologies
to the husband
for the condition of the house.

I used to be an extremely fun person. I think you would have liked to hang around with me when I was extremely fun.

I have noticed lately that I am only moderately fun. Moderately because I have been thinking in terms of surveys. And if someone were to call me and say they were taking a fun factor survey and they asked,

"Please rate yourself according to where you fit on this scale. Are you:

Extremely fun
Very fun

Fun
Somewhat fun
Moderately fun
Not very fun
Not fun at all

Painfully Un-fun."

At this point I believe I would be forced to answer only moderately fun. And it worries me. My fun factor is slipping. I don't want to be only moderately fun, because that is pretty close to not fun at all. I don't even have to be extremely fun again, I would be content with very fun.

Somewhere along the way I have become a more serious person. Because, well, life.

I think I gotta get my fun back.

How does one go about that? Does posting in red count as a step in the right direction?

Speaking Volumes

Saturday was a true marathon day. We got up early and didn't stop until late. Nonetheless, it was a rewarding and satisfying day.

We awoke early to travel across town to help my brother and sister-in-law finish up the landscaping in their backyard. I loved it.

At one point little son and I were laying out rolls of sod and he disappeared. I looked over my shoulder to find where my little helper had scampered off to and spotted him alongside the husband. His sod was more inviting than the one I was working on, and the husband had acquired a helper.

The yard turned out beautifully and I am always amazed, but not surprised, by the abilities of my siblings and their spouses. These are some of the most talented people I know. Every. Single. One. No joke.

We travelled back across town to attend a birthday party of a friend. It was very enjoyable. The children were in heaven because there was a bounce house, pizza, cupcakes, lots of kids to play with, a pinata and candy. And it was a wonderful party.

As we buckled seat belts, the husband informed me that he had received a text from my youngest sister. She was wondering where I was. I checked my phone and sure enough, I had a message waiting. I immediately called her back, and her first question was, "Have you checked the comments on your blog from today's post?"

I had not, as we had been occupied all the day long. She then read to me the comment of a reader who was offended by my post for the day. It seems I had included with my post a picture that she felt was offensive in nature and went against the Constitution. And, she declared that she would no longer follow my blog.

I was stunned.

In no way had I meant to offend anyone. And in no way was I stating contempt for this country and its Constitution. In fact, the picture I had posted is one that I did a Google Image search for 'mexican american flags' at 1:00 a.m.- Saturday morning. It was the first image I came across with both the Mexican and American flags, loaded the photo onto my post, linked the photo to where I found it (the first time I have done this, by the way) hit the 'publish post' button and went to bed.

I didn't stop to scrutinize the picture, nor the article from where I got the image. I should have. It turns out the pic had the American flag flying upside down on a flagpole beneath the Mexican flag. I guess that sends a bad message. And I guess I am a little naive. Cause I didn't catch that.

Anyway, after discussing it with my little sis, we concluded that if this person who was so offended was a regular reader, she would know that I am not the kind of person who would do what she insists I did. I feel bad, but I also know that not everyone will always agree with what I write. This is a personal blog- it will contain personal opinion. I welcome comments with opinions which differ from mine. It helps me to see another side of an issue. I respect differing opinions. Afterall, it is our right- under the Constitution.

I am still scratching my head over this one, however. There was really not a controversial opinion expressed in the post.

I gave my sister my login information and she removed the picture for me since we were still a long way from home. I hope she forgot my login info. Because she could really play a great April Fool's joke if she still has it.

Once we arrived home the husband did a little research, posted a little {brilliant} comment of his own, and we loaded a new pic. Which I like better anyway and wish I had found early Saturday morning when I did my original search.

Moving on. We returned home, cleaned out the car, ate a hearty dinner of cold cereal (it was too late to cook- and since it was a marathon day, we opted for the breakfast of champions), took baths, and tucked children into their beds. And floors. It was the weekend after all, and middle daughter's favorite privilege is to camp out on the floor on Friday and Saturday nights.

A favorite tradition is to ask our children at the end of the day, "What was your favorite thing about today?"

As I posed this question to little son, his response spoke volumes to me. He said simply and without hesitation, "Rolling out the grass with Dad." (in his puckered-up voice, of course.)

Out of all the wonderful activities of the day. Playing with the cousins. The grand party. Cold cereal for dinner, for heaven's sake. His favorite moment was one spent near the side of his greatest hero.

And then I colored my hair. A couple shades too dark. Because I was tired of my sexy gray roots. Which I was going to take a picture of in honor of Wonder Woman and this post. But didn't. Because I don't have glasses to go along with the roots.

It was a gold medal marathon day.

Why Blogs Are a Good Thing: Reason #374

Click Image for Photo Credit

People from Mexico

can visit my blog
or I can visit theirs

and have an enjoyable time
without being exposed
to whatever-the-heck-flu
they have going on right now.

Happy almost Cinco de Mayo.
I hope this thing is figured out.

Soon.

If not sooner.

The Bomb

So there are a few blogs out there that I really love. Like, Really. Love. Ones that if I ever received a comment from them on my little space I would feel like I had arrived.

Those are the blogs that I get excited when I see that they have posted something.

And I read those blogs, but never comment. Because it is like they are at the cool table and I am not. And entering their domain is intimidating to me. And I will tell you why. It is my belief that once I comment on their blog, they will be like: "Who is this trublubyu? And why is she at my table? Who invited her? I must check her profile."

And I flatter myself to believe that they will immediately click on my profile and then follow the link to my blog to see if I am worthy. And if my post for that day is not the bomb (do the people at the cool table still use that phrase?), then my one chance at sitting at the cool table will be gone. Forever. Like families or diamonds. (they are forever)

So, I wait until the day that I have a post that is the bomb. And when that day comes, I am going to make my way over to that cool table and leave comments all over it in hopes that those cool table peeps will follow my link and love what I have to say and tell me in an awesome comment. And truly, it's not about the comment- it's that an amazing writer took a moment to click on over to my place and read my meager offering.

And then I will know...



That I am still the same person I was yesterday. But now I have an extra comment.



Author's note: to all the friends I have made through blogging, this is not to say that I do not admire your blogs- we have established a connection and I love it! Thanks for inviting me to your cool table. I am still in awe of having a place there.

Not Quite Story Time

A couple Sundays ago I witnessed something at church that would be a totally HILL-AIR-E-US!! post. The bad news is that a few people in my ward read my blog- and probably a few more stalk it- and while I don't believe the story would injure anyone, it would be in bad form to pass on the little anecdote. And, truthfully, it is killing me to not share...

Just trust me- you would love the story. And so, the dilemma- just how much can you share on a non-private blog?

Seriously, there are moments in life that really would make for some great entertainment. But once shared on the blog, the reader is left to interpret how they may. And the meanings of some stories might get lost in the translation. And I am one who would never want anyone to misconstrue my meaning. Therefore, much of my daily experiences are tucked up on the "it's better not to tell that one" shelf. I'm sure you know the shelf of which I speak.

Tell ya what- here's what I'm gonna do: As soon as I move- which I have no plans of doing just yet (for my ward's benefit. I mean, it is not to my ward's benefit that I am not moving. I am saying that we have no plans of moving so that no rumors are started. Therefore, I said that "we have no plans of moving" for the benefit of my ward. Get it? Got it. Good. Really, do you get it?)- I am taking down those stories from off that shelf, dusting them off, changing a few names, and posting those babies! Once we move.

Because we all love a good story.

And if you are wondering if the story I have been referring to is about you?

No.

It's not.

Really.




P.S. Happy Earth Day. Oldest daughter has been reminding me of this one all month. Won't she be surprised when she realizes that there really is no celebration involved in this holiday? I mean, no celebration as in gifts and carrying on. But, I do believe we will celebrate in our own little way- I have spinach and cucumbers to plant. That should do. Really, we are party animals.

P.P.S. I just came across an article entitled "Scientists discover a nearly Earth-sized planet". I believe some planet is a bit jealous and trying to steal Earth's thunder. Couldn't you come out with this on any other day? After all, it is her day. Rude.

We Will Survive

The cable man laughed at me. It seems people don't NOT (I know, double negative) have cable or some other television service- according to the cable man.

After reviewing our television viewing habits, and noticing that the only cable channels we watch are Disney and Noggin (I believe you have heard me mention this before. Somewhere. Can't find the posts, however. Sorry, no link.), we decided to cancel our cable TV service and pocket the savings. A good savings, might I add. $70.00 a month. Afterall, we originally began our cable service in honor of the Summer Olympics so we could get multiple channels for viewing. Oh, and because of my love affair with the Olympics. (You can read about that here and here.)

When I requested the change, cable man asked if we were switching to a satellite service.

Pink is for me. Blue= cable man, of course.

"Nope, we're not."

chuckling, "Well, Ma'am, no one does that. No one cancels their service without replacing it with something else."

"Well, Sir, we do."

"What about your sports programs? How will you get your sports?"

"We don't watch a lot of sports. We just don't have time for that."

snickering, "Ok, what about your movies? People are saving a lot of money these days by staying home from the theaters and watching movies on the movie channels."

"Well, we don't have any of the movie channels anyway."

"You don't have any of the movie channels?! Ma'am, you do realize you have HD service right now, what if we just downgrade?"

"Yes, I realize that. Thank you very much. No downgrade necessary. We just want to cancel."

"Ma'am, let's see if we can work out a package for you. What does your family watch?"

"Really, the only television we watch is children's programming. And we can get that from PBS from now on. The rest of our shows are on network channels- and we don't have to pay for those."

chuckling, again, "PBS? OK. But what about-"

"Please, just cancel our cable. Thank you."

"Sure. I just haven't heard of anyone doing this before."

"We want to keep our internet and phone. Can you tell me what my new bill should be?"

"It looks like you should be saving about $70.00 a month."

"Thank you."


So, please tell me I'm not alone. I'm pretty sure other people watch *Gasp!* ONLY network television. Right?

And let me just report, we have been watching ONLY network television for about two weeks now. I think we are OK. I haven't noticed any strange side effects oozing from our little deprived bodies. No plagues, poxes or diseases. Yet.

It has been nice. The husband and I still record (through our computer) any of the programs that we watch and save them for after the children are in bed. And we're not suffering because that cable box has been removed. I believe we will survive. But I do miss the digital clock display on that box. So, that tells me I was paying $70.00 a month to know what the time was. Time is money.

The cable man laughed at me.

And I don't care.

Wishing

This evening the children and I spent some time enjoying the coolness in the backyard while the husband was away at a meeting.

Oldest daughter 'taught' us how to play bubblegum, bubblegum in a dish. (Hasn't that one been around forever?)

Little son regaled us with a fairy tale that went something like this:

Once upon a time there was a young man.

And he was a soccer boy, like me.

So once upon a time there was a soccer boy

who went into the forest.

And there was a wicked witch... (plus more that I cannot recall)

.

You must know that little son speaks in a manner that one would think he is puckering his lips while speaking. Yet he is not. He has a talent for un-puckered, puckered lip speech. And he says his r's and l's as if they were w's. And, yes, he seriously said 'young man.' hee hee.

Now, you should go back and re-read his fairy tale in his manner of speech. And you will smile. Because it is so stinkin' cute to listen to that voice.

As the sun finally dipped below the mountains to the west, little son asked if it was night time, because he "couldn't see the sun anymore." It was that magical time of day when sun and shadows are absent, but only the presence of a warm glow in the sky. And the world feels right.

I told the children to search the heavens for the first star of the night so that we could make a wish.

Middle daughter found it first. I guess because she is 5 now, star-finding comes easy.

And then we all listened as she made her wish.

"Star light,

star bright,

first star I see tonight.

I wish I may,

I wish I might

have the wish I wish tonight.

I wish I could be a mom and have earrings."

After her plea to the heavens, we each took a turn sending our wish out in hopes of it being granted.

We listened as oldest daughter wished:

"Star light,
star bright,
first star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might
have the wish I wish tonight.

I wish I could have a collection of ladybugs."

.

And little son (with help from mom on the verse part- but it was all him on the wish. and don't forget the puckered-up voice):

"Star light,
star bright,
first star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might
have the wish I wish tonight.

I wish I could be a pirate."

And then the children asked what my wish is. And so I took my turn:

"Star light,
star bright,
first star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might
have the wish I wish tonight.

I wish my children will be happy and obedient."

I think that put a downer on the whole wish thing, because no sooner had my wish been uttered than middle daughter brought us all back around to the point of the exercise with her little:

"Star light,
star bright,
first star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might
have the wish I wish tonight.

I wish for only Dora's on TV."

Duh.

What do you wish for?

Only sensible wishes, please. Or middle daughter will be forced to remind you of the point of this exercise.

Five at last

Today is middle daughter's birthday. No more sleeps. It is today.

Yesterday as we were snuggling on the couch, I told middle daughter in a pretend sad voice, "This is the last day I can hold my four year old girl. What am I going to do? After this I won't have a four year old to hold?"

After a bit of carrying on, middle daughter's eyes began to tear up and I knew I had taken the teasing too far. I asked what was wrong and she told me that she was sad that I could never hold her again.

I explained that I will always hold her- even when she is six.

Then I told her about the day she was born. She loves to hear about it. And she reminds me that she had hair on her ears. And a wrinkled forehead. And that she was born on her grandma's birthday. That makes her day extra special. And she was named after her other grandma. How lucky can one little girl be?

I love reliving that day. The births of my children are some of my favorite moments to remember. I did my best work on those days.

And so today is the day of the pink balloons, Dora pinatas, Barbie toys, cake and lots of laughs. But more than any gift we could give her, she has given us more.

In five years she has given us:

• hours and hours of make-believe kitty play
• shared snuggles on the couch, watching Dora
• dozens of batches of cookies she has helped make
• multiple opportunities to read favorite picture books
• smiles when I check on her at night and find her on the floor- her favorite place to rest her little sleeping body
• many chances to pick her up, dust her off, bandage an owie and send her happily on her way
• smiles when she reminds us that the Salt Lake Temple is her temple- and she is getting married there
• invaluable service in being our garden harvester
• joy in observing her gentle care for the canine
• a willing dance partner any time we are able
• creativity in expanding our snacking options
• introducing us to absolute determination in standing one's ground as a four year old
• pause to realize that she is content to just be- to be herself, to play on her own, to enjoy creating her own world to inhabit
• opportunities to learn and grow as parents

I feel so blessed to have such a daughter.

And we are prepared to celebrate the dickens out of this day. And tomorrow will begin preparation for middle daughter's sixth birthday.

It's in 364 sleeps, you know.

shoes

Little son's orange crocs have been missing since General Conference.

It has been an extremely trying past week and a half at our house. Slip on shoes are best. I have no patience for laces. And although little son also has black sandal crocs, I much prefer the orange slip-ons for the full coverage they provide his feet when it is a bit chilly outside.

And so, everyday as we are gearing up to go on an errand, I find myself muttering, "Where are your orange crocs? We need those orange crocs."

I cannot account for their disappearance. It baffles me.

About midweek, my exasperation was in full bloom as once more I heard myself asking, rhetorically, "Where are those silly orange crocs?"

Middle daughter replied with a small, "E (our cousin) wore them on Sunday during our Jeopardy game. He always wears them when he comes."

I heard what she was saying, but let it slide right on through my ear canals- in one side right across and out the other. As it was, we were hurrying (always hurrying) out the door and I had no time to canvas the house in search of the orange crocs.

Last evening, it was my turn to host our monthly sisters and mom book club. My sister brought her children this time as her husband was away on business.

As we ladies were discussing this month's read, little E comes sauntering in the family room. Complete with blue Little Tikes golf club and orange crocs. On the wrong feet. At once I began to laugh. And the ladies had no idea for the reasons behind my little outburst.

I took a moment to let them in on the story of the missing crocs. And we shared a laugh and snapped a picture and continued with our discussion.

And now the orange rubber shoes are found. Because E retrieved them from his special spot- right where he left them last week. And we have no idea where that place is. .

I didn't think to have E tell me where those silly crocs were before he left. So I believe they are once again lost and tucked secretly into E's little hiding place. Because I have not seen them since last night.

And I have no idea when that little shoe hider is coming back.

Here is a little nugget you should know about me.

It is imperative that I sleep with no less than 3 pillows.

T-H-R-E-E

Every night.

Oh, yes, and one husband.

That is all.

There will be a quiz later.

p.s. happy tax day

DIY Post

I'm always up for a good Do-It-Yourself project. As is the husband. There's a sense of accomplishment that accompanies the completion of a project. And we can usually save a couple bucks when we do something ourselves. I have to believe you know what I am talking about.

Today I am offering to you the DIY Post. As in YOU DIY. Because I believe you have something to say. (and also my creative juices are so not flowing) And, DIY is all the rage. You know.

What's on your mind? Tell me.

This is one project that I believe will turn out beautifully. If you're up for it.

You can fly...

This morning as I ate my cold cereal, I chose to read a talk by Elder Neal A. Maxwell that was given to me by my mom this past weekend.

It is a beautiful message entitled The Women of God. You can read the entire article here. (please, go and read it! you will be so glad you did) It is overflowing with tender words and praise of women. I especially loved these passages:

God trusts women so much that He lets them bear and care for His spirit children.

In our modern kingdom, it is no accident that women were, through the Relief Society, assigned compassionate service. So often the service of women seems instinctive, while that of some men seems more labored. It is precisely because the daughters of Zion are so uncommon that the adversary will not leave them alone.

We salute you, sisters, for the joy that is yours as you rejoice in a baby’s first smile and as you listen with eager ear to a child’s first day at school which bespeaks a special selflessness. Women, more quickly than others, will understand the possible dangers when the word self is militantly placed before other words like fulfillment. You rock a sobbing child without wondering if today’s world is passing you by, because you know you hold tomorrow tightly in your arms.

So often our sisters comfort others when their own needs are greater than those being comforted. That quality is like the generosity of Jesus on the cross. Empathy during agony is a portion of divinity!

I thank the Father that His Only Begotten Son did not say in defiant protest at Calvary, “My body is my own!” I stand in admiration of women today who resist the fashion of abortion, by refusing to make the sacred womb a tomb!

When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sound of lullabies? The great armistices made by military men or the peacemaking of women in homes and in neighborhoods? Will what happened in cradles and kitchens prove to be more controlling than what happened in congresses? When the surf of the centuries has made the great pyramids so much sand, the everlasting family will still be standing, because it is a celestial institution, formed outside telestial time. The women of God know this.

No wonder the men of God support and sustain you sisters in your unique roles, for the act of deserting home in order to shape society is like thoughtlessly removing crucial fingers from an imperiled dike in order to teach people to swim.
We men love you for meeting inconsiderateness with consideration and selfishness with selflessness. We are touched by the eloquence of your example. We are deeply grateful for your enduring us as men when we are not at our best because—like God—you love us not only for what we are, but for what we have the power to become.

We have special admiration for the unsung but unsullied single women among whom are some of the noblest daughters of God. These sisters know that God loves them, individually and distinctly. They make wise career choices even though they cannot now have the most choice career. Though in their second estate they do not have their first desire, they still overcome the world. These sisters who cannot now enrich the institution of their own marriage so often enrich other institutions in society. They do not withhold their blessings simply because some blessings are now withheld from them. Their trust in God is like that of the wives who are childless, but not by choice, but who in the justice of God will receive special blessings one day.

As I read these tender words, eating my Marshmallow Mateys, tears coursing down my cheeks, feeling the love and support from an Apostle of Jesus Christ, little son came over to the table to join me. He climbed up and said, "Hi, Mom." And I stopped my reading to wipe my tears, respond to him and acknowledge his little presence.

As I looked back down to continue reading and eating, I noticed a black speck in my cereal. Upon further inspection, I realized it was a fly. A dead fly. Floating in my Mateys.

Kinda killed the spirit of the article.

I got up, poured the cereal down the drain, and began to blog.

Thanks a lot, little fly. But especially I am thankful little son came over to offer his mom a hello. Were it not for him, I may have a little dead fly floating in my tummy. And I probably would never have known it.

Now I'm off to finish reading that article.

In which I get to sleep in

Yesterday was one of those

*I'm clocking out and never coming back*

days.

Motherhood is tough sometimes.

Good thing there is a night at the end of each day.

Sleep to help recharge.

And an amazing husband.

The husband.
I love him.

He got oldest daughter up this morning and helped her get ready for school.
Complete with ponytail.

All while I slumbered peacefully in my comfy blankets.

He fixed breakfast for middle daughter and little son.
And helped them get situated with a little show.

And I still slumbered.

He showered and shaved.

And then I woke up at 8:45 to find two happy children waiting for me.

And then he went to work.

I took a deep breath, punched my time card, and got started with my day.

Thank goodness for that husband.

I love him.

Conference, in General

This past weekend was a feast of spiritual proportions, for sure. As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we participated in General Conference. A time where we are taught by our leaders. Words from a prophet.

There were opportunities for reflecting and recommitting. I felt that many of the addresses were directed to me and my family. Amazing how that works.

In particular, during the Saturday morning session, the husband and I were having difficulties corralling the children and convincing them to sit and listen reverently. As voices heightened and a time out was issued, a new speaker began her talk. No sooner had she started than the husband and I exchanged knowing glances and sheepish expressions.

The speaker was teaching us to have respect for our family. To teach our children to respect others. And to do better. (this is what we drew from her message, among a few other things)

We felt repentant. It was an immediate lesson for us, right on the t.v. screen in our own family room. A servant of the Lord showing us the way to be better parents. She couldn't have shared more perfect words for us than if she had been present in our home moments before. It was as if she had been observing our family and taken action, possibly thinking, "This family needs help and instruction on how to improve their teaching methods. And I need to address this issue right now."

Once again I was touched with the applicability of General Conference messages in my life, so pertinent for Today.

I had favorite messages, of course. Some of them so full of personal testimony that all I could do was nod and make an attempt at note-taking through puddled eyes. All the talks were jam-packed with spiritual nuggets that I will feast on for the next six months. I anticipate the arrival of the addresses in The Ensign. I love to re-read them and mark them and make notes in the margins.

And then, of course, our family participated in our annual General Conference Jeopardy game. It was wonderful, as usual. The trophy was finally won by another family, thus ending the winning streak of my oldest sister's family. Her children reluctantly handed it over to my other sister and her family. It will be displayed in their home until October, when it will again be up for grabs.

I awoke this morning feeling satisfied, full. A feeling only gifts of the spirit can bring. And I think I'm going to smile a lot today. Remembering.

I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found

It's true. Except I wasn't lost, my little blue ipod was. Remember when we talked about that? If not, go here for a refresher.

So, the ipod has been found.

This morning I was furiously cleaning my humble little abode and felt the need to pull my hair back to keep it out of the way. I could find no big hair elastics in my girls' hairdo box that is traditionally kept downstairs in my pots and pans cupboard. (gross, I know. But totally convenient.) And I was not about to climb the stairs and mess up my cleaning groove just to pull my hair back, so I opted for the green bandanna that had been used as a blindfold on Monday night during middle daughters ingenious FHE activity. (she created a pin-the-nose-on-the-canine game that was simply brilliant, thus the need for a blindfold.)

I fashioned an Aunt Jemima-style do-wrap, which was also brilliant. I have never used the Aunt Jemima wrap to this point in my life, but having done so today, I believe I shall do it more often. Loved it. No stray hairs, no hairs tight that are impossible to be found and no worries. Adored it.

I wore the bandanna all day. Even to pick up oldest daughter from school. And she immediately asked what I had done with my hair the second she jumped in the car.

Later in the afternoon I had cause to run some errands and opted for the more traditional pony tail. So once more I retreated to the pot cupboard- just in case I had overlooked a ponytail holder.

In that pots and pans cupboard I found a container, far back in the shadows that appeared to contain some ribbons. Curious, I reached for it and began rummaging through the mess of hair adornments. And- Jackpot! I found a ponytail holder!

Lying on the bottom of the container was a blue coin purse that I vaguely recognized. At first I assumed it to be one of my daughters' little treasures. And then I turned it over, recalled the familiar beading and a flood of memory came rushing back to me.

It was my long-lost ipod case that I had purchased for 97 cents at Wal-Mart especially to house the all-important gadget. And inside, was my little ipod, with the earbuds delicately wrapped up and secured.

And now, I have two little Mp3 players (3, if you count the additional one the husband purchased because they were such a good deal), courtesy of the husband.

I always knew my little original ipod would be found.

I just never thought to check the pots and pans cupboard. Because we don't usually keep ipots in that cupboard. (yep, I meant ipots)

Gotcha!

Oldest daughter has been way excited for this day to come. Because, hello, April Fool's Day! A holiday made especially for children. It's an excuse to be silly. To pull one over on your parents.

I believe this is the first year that it has meant anything to our little brood. And that's because we finally have a daughter out "in the world" who learns stuff and comes home and teaches us all the stuff she learns. Hence, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, St. Patrick's Day, and Groundhog Day have become holidays of note in our household.

Thank you, oldest daughter!



She has been excited all week about what promises to be a super fun, prank-pulling day. And she has told us that she has some doozies for us- so we should be ready.

Well, I am here to tell you, she was not fooling! She got us good!



First thing when she woke up this morning, she told me, "Mom, you have a moth behind you!" I turned around and guess what? No moth.

And later, she tricked us with the old "Dad, you have something on your forehead!" Again- not a thing on the forehead! What a joker.

Middle daughter was intoxicated with all the hilarity and she soon got in on the action. She pulled a couple silly jokes on us and when we fell for those jokes, she exclaimed, "Foolin' ya!"

Foolin' ya. Can you coin a cuter phrase for this day than Foolin' ya?

Didn't think so.