I am terrible at this! *Sigh*

I figure it is time for an update. Well, that's a gross understatement but who's counting? Heaven knows I'm not! It occurred to me today that life is so rosy that it's almost too good to be true. Maybe it was the old school country music in the background that Dennis plays when he goes to sleep (he has some sort of split personality and its either that or Enya or something like. Maybe someone can explain it to me cause I don't get it). At this moment, "All my live Exes live in Texas" is playing. It just makes me smile. But I think it was mostly how much I enjoyed taking the boys to get a shaved ice tonight. They were delicious, by the way. Christian had Pokemon flavor (banana) with tiger's blood and Jack had watermelon with tiger's blood. I had Georgia peach with liger's blood (lime and tiger's blood, it reminded me of Napoleon) with a little shot of sweet cream. It didn't look too pretty but was, no lie, yummy. It was nice to just sit and slurp with the boys and feel the summer winding down.

What a summer! Big move- Utah to Texas. We made a couple of stops along the way, a little difficult  with a cat. Poor Yoshi, he was so mad about the whole situation that he pooped on one of the hotel beds. Dennis started to lay down on it and when he realized what it was, he was up so fast I thought he was on fire. I shouldn't be, but I'm giggling a little to myself now. It's easy to laugh now but at the time staying up half the night to wash the blankets was not that funny. Anyway, back to our stops. We took a little mine tour somewhere before Durango. Christian loved it. I think Yoshi has the distinction of being the only cat to visit the UFO Museum in Roswell as it was just too hot to leave him in the car while we checked it out. I am not sure what to say about this one. It was....interesting. Then we went through a cave. It was really awesome, in the literal meaning of that word. I spent the whole time worrying about the cat but it was cool. On our way out we saw the biggest centipede we had ever seen (maybe 7 or 8 inches!) and the boys thought it was totally neat but the guide acted like it was no big deal. Christian asked me afterwards why the guide wasn't impressed as we were. I said I didn't know but in truth Mr. No Personality was our tour guide. We decided a stop at the Alamo was just necessary. We left Yoshi in the car in covered parking but it was miserably hot and humid. So we didn't stay too long. Seriously, like a huge sauna. Yoshi doesn't seem any dumber than he was before.  I kept telling Dennis that I wanted ask someone where the basement was but he wouldn't let me. I don't think he got the joke. What? You don't either? Too bad.

Summer to be continued.....

Who wants to be in the Spanish Inquisition? Ooo, I do, I do! Pick me!

Before I forget, I have to write about my recent experience with Bikram Yoga. First of all, this wasn't some crazy idea of mine.  All right I admit I have some crazy ones, I'm open-minded, so what?  But this was at the suggestion of my doctor. My doc: "You have to get your BMI under 30, it will solve all your health issues." Me: "Okay, but how, I really do try. I ride the stationary bike at least 3 times week and try to do something else the other days. Granted, I might be on the equivalent of a sugar drip but I'm not sedentary." Doc: "Try Bikram Yoga, the pounds will just melt off."  Done. There is a studio close to my house and they have $29 first month trial, so I signed up.  Bikram is about the same as any other yoga, poses, some hard, some easy.  But what is certainly different is that the room is 110 degrees and you're in it for 90 minutes.  Yep, you read that right-one hundred and ten degrees. It was voluntary torture, hence, the title of this blog. When I went to class, I expected Cerberus to be guarding the door because, man, did it feel like I was descending into Hades every time I walked in. By about the third pose, when you are bending at your waist and supposed to be grasping under your heels (all I could manage was to grasp the back of my legs), I was dripping sweat, near rivers of it running down my legs. And I wasn't the only one. Occasionally, I would hear the smack of someone hitting a towel and mat that had been totally saturated by sweat. There was only one group sip of water, all others were encouraged to be taken in between poses, which I couldn't understand because there was no "in between", you went from one grueling pose to the next. Only one instructor had been blessed with a sense of humor. She was refreshing, especially in comparison to the, so thin as to be possibly non-existent, oriental instructor whose yelling of "exhale, exhale" made me feel like I was in a POW camp. The first time I went, two people were helping a woman out of the prior class but still I thought how bad can it be. They tell you the goal is to just stay in the room, but there really isn't any other choice because there were times I wasn't sure I could crawl out on my hands and knees let alone walk! About the second or third time, I realized that the most desirable spot is by the door. It was cooler and at the end when the instructor opened it and walked out the cool rush of air that blew past me made me do a strange sob-cry thing (but quietly, because it is a faux pas to disturb another yogi or yogini's savasana, that's corpse pose for you uninitiated out there). In the end, I decided that I needed a kinder, gentler yoga and that it was too expensive.  And, I was a little embarrassed. Remember Bill Murray in "What About Bob" when he is trying to get on the bus and his guitar is perpendicular to the door so it keeps stopping him?  Yeah, that was me and my yoga mat one time.

A Manifesto for all Mothers

This is a draft of an actual note I am going to send the doctor's office I am going to take Jack to for an eye exam.  Here goes:  In response to your note stating "As a courtesy to everyone please do not bring additional children to the office that do not have an appointment", as a courtesy to myself and statement of solidarity to every other mother of multiple children I WILL be bringing my older child to my son's appointment because I am PAYING you to do a service for me, not the other way around.  First, let me state that I recognize that not all children are well behaved all the time.  Let me also point out that not all adults are either, including parents who may not keep as close watch on their children as may seem necessary.  I am not that parent.  I will not be perusing a magazine while my children run around your waiting room/office unchecked.  Having said that, my children are children and given their limited impulse control sometimes act to be cliche, their age.  As a mother, I will do my best to make sure that this is kept to a minimum, recognizing that minimums are relative.  Your request infers that children are a nuisance.  You, as well as I, were at some time children also.  The difference should be that one has matured enough to have to patience to deal with children in any circumstance.  So, let me ask, who is the real adult?  The child who is acting as is proper for their age or the petty person who is so bothered by children they would prefer to not see them and assume they do not exist. The inability to deal with children suggests that you are one.  If the others in the waiting room cannot abide the possibility that children may be there also perhaps you should not be taking children at your practice.  If your doctors, nurses or assistants are unable to deal with the possibility of an extra child or two in the exam room, perhaps they should not be dealing with children, at all.  Children are not a nuisance, they are CHILDREN!

Now, should I send it before when the impact would be greater or after when I am certain that it will not be the day my children have acted the worst they ever have thereby proving that children are in actuality a nuisance?

Dennis, as usual, thinks I am crazy, so I may not send it at all but, man, do I want to!

Uuuugh! Why can I not figure this thing out!

Well, I'm not sure why my last post was all strangely spaced. Perhaps, I truly did lose brain cells watching some sort of animated D&D movie the other night. Actually, I can't really blame it on that, I really don't get how to work this blogspot stuff. Have patience, some day I will get it. Meanwhile, more verbal gems. Christian's been going through a Rugrats/Wild Thornberry's stage. I don't know if you all remember those cartoons. Either, again lost brain cells are to blame or they are in actuality, entertaining. I kinda like them, especially, Tim Curry as Nigel Thornberry. So, Christian started saying "Rubbish" lately and then the other day I heard him saying "smashing". Nigel is rubbing off on him. It makes me smile.

A weekend of verbal gems

Overheard as I am getting ready:

Christian: "Jack, this is not a party it's my bedroom" followed by "Hold still, Jack, I'm looking for lint in your belly button." (For the record, I have NEVER looked for lint in my children's belly buttons, so I have no idea where that came from.)

Shortly after, I could hear some crying and fighting (turns out, despite a house full of blankets there is only one desirable one) and then Christian is full on crying, not just a whiny half cry. This is the exchange:

Christian: "Jack hurt me so bad."

Me: "Well, how did he hurt you?"

Christian: "He hurt me SOOOO bad?"

Me: "Okay, but how? Did he hit you?"

Christian: "Yes and he pushed me and I hit the wood (his bed)."

Me: "Jack, stop hitting."

Christian: "Are you going to spank him or anything? Cause that's what I had in mind."

Me: "It is, huh? Well you know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking 2 little boys in bed in time out".

Christian, as he walks away: "Okay, I'll go lay down but no Jack in my room, that is my deepest thought...yeah, my deepest thought, no Jack in my room."

I'm not really sure if I want to admit my deepest thoughts at this point.

Later that day, we had gone to Wal-Mart. On the way, Jack fell asleep and since Shelley was with us she offered to stay in the van with him. After several times telling Christian, as he is getting out, to be quiet and not wake Jack I finally say "Christian, what part of be quiet do you not understand? (I'm a terrible mom, whatever)" His reply, "The part where you don't make any noise". Well, I did ask.

That was Friday, cut to Sunday. It's ward conference and the Stake Primary is teaching sharing time. Christian is always pretty willing to share but today that kid could not be quiet. He kept interrupting the president, giving her the 411 on what she was talking about and how he didn't bring his scripture reading chart because he didn't do it and sundry other embarrassing revelations. But the clincher came as she was finishing one part of her presentation and said thank you to the children for being participatory (directed to Christian and a couple of other kids who felt an overwhelming compulsion to share) and my 5 year-old Napoleon Dynamite-in-training says "I'm kind of an expert".

Oh, the cherry on top of the weekend of verbal gems.

A note about pictures: Jack in green hat made by Aunt Carylee (wouldn't take off for 3 days), also apparently making a train (that kid's got trains on the brain!) out of a roll and beets. The newest member (actually adopted in October) of the fam, Yoshi. On the way back from a trip to AZ. If you look closely you will see that Christian's nails are blue, Cynthia has 2 girls, her sister has 3 girls, he was lucky to make it out with only nails painted.

I stink!

Wow, I can't believe how bad I stink at blogging. But, to quote John Mayer "I'm a new man, I've got a new cologne, you wouldn't know me with your eyes closed". I am reformed (yeah, right, reformed like a lion going vegan!) and vow to do better. So...okay, I have nothing to say really...but I promise more witty, pithy entries in the future (let's hope near).

Boogers

Before I forget, I gotta write this for posterity. On Saturday, we had our ward Christmas party. Since we've been here, its always been a breakfast but that's not really important. We were sitting waiting for it to start, surrounded by people at our and surrounding tables. Unconcerned, Christian picked his nose and was about to get a little extra protein in his diet when Dennis caught him and wiped it on a napkin. Christian, aghast at the injustice of being deprived of a tasty treat loudly declared "No, me lo-o-o-ve boogers"! It was totally classic moment.