Serenity Now

That's not entirely true.  I am not the ORIGIN of humor... I am the OBJECT of humor or the target so to speak.  When growing up my siblings who ARE funny by nature would target me for their antics, jokes etc. and I was fair game.  I was and still am very gullible which is fodder for many a joke.  I also don't understand many jokes which keeps the laughter going when a joke is told and my blank stare and two minutes later I say "I don't get it" has everyone busting up all over again.  The only person who has ever told me they thought me funny was a mission companion named Tania Rands.  It was so nice to actually have one person tell me "you are sooo funny Sister Holt".  Then I got home from my mission and I would try to tell a joke to my family and it would fall flat and my sister (Sheri) would say to me "I bet Sister Rands would have laughed at that." haha very funny.

So I was actually pleased when Wannabe rated me higher than dad saying "I think mom is funnier than dad".  This inspired me to try and get a laugh out of my boys at the dinner table.  We were eating fish sticks, fries and salad which included ketchup and ranch dressing.  Each time I took a bite I dabbed either ketchup or ranch on my lips.  I wanted to see if I could get a smile out of one of the boys or how long it would take one of them to say something.  (keep in mind Smiley was NOT at the table at this point... he was in time out having hurt one of his brothers during the hand-washing process).  I keep adding to my lips all the while keeping up conversation and three boys are looking at me frequently- not a smile crosses their lips or a word about what is on my mouth.  This is what I looked like when Smiley came to dinner from time out....

As soon as Smiley (who is 3 years old) sat down he said "Mom, wha's on yur mouf?" at which point I do the whole routine of "is there something on my mouth?" etc. etc.  The older boys even admitted that they saw it but chose not to say anything because they didn't want to.

But seriously!!!  It was on my face for a good 5 minutes! not a smile... nothing! 

I bet Sister Rands would have laughed at that.  

Nice.

So I get a call from the school at 2:00 pm - it was Wannabe with a sore throat saying he couldn't stay any longer - could I please come get him.  Which I did but not before doing a pocket check and finding a snake in his pocket (he said his friend gave it to him .... I told him to tell his friend "thank you but my mom says I can't keep it"  - really it was a test to see if the friend really gave it or if it was another "sticky fingers" moment).

We get home and have a talk about his "hate mail".  

Me:  Your teacher tells me you have been writing "I hate you" notes to people.

Wannabe:  yeah.  To Mia.

Me:  Who is Mia.

Wannabe: I don't know (with a shrug).

Me:  Is Mia in your class?

Wannabe:  Yeah.

Me:  Why are you writing I hate you to Mia?

Wannabe:  She's a girl.  I LIKE Mia....but my brain doesn't.

(What the what??????)

Me:  You like Mia but your brain doesn't?  

Wannabe:  Yep.

Insert lecture on older brother who has friends that are boys and friends that are girls... need to say and write kind things.... don't hurt people's feelings.... how would you feel if.... yada yada yada...

Man I wish I could use that excuse for things.  In fact Brett should have used that excuse the other day come to think of it.  

I'm sorry officer I WANTED to go the speed limit but my brain didn't want to and it MADE me accelerate.  

I WANTED to get the laundry caught up, the dishes done, the bathrooms cleaned, the bills paid and my vacuuming done but my brain MADE me write this post instead.  

I can't tell you the number of times I asked my husband how many hours were left before my doctor's appointment to get the nose stints out.  The were driving me insane!!! and I was sure that once they were out I would feel immediate relief in my nose and the tingling and numbness in my mouth would be gone.  I would be able to blow and wipe my nose again, we would have world peace and the economy would be back in order ... oh and my dvr would no longer be on the fritz - in essence all would be right with the world.  Okay so not everything would be fixed but a girl can hope right???

I had to bring Smiley and Giggles with me to my appointment.  -groan-  Giggles had already started out on the wrong foot and had been read the riot act before we got to the doctor's office.  It didn't work.  Why do I bother???

So after an infinitely long wait in the waiting area we get into the exam room.  Here's the tray of tools to be used on my nose....

And when I asked my boys if they were going to watch the doctor work on my nose this is how they said they were going to watch...

What they actually did was glance briefly, ask if it hurt and when I said it didn't (which wasn't entirely true.... I just didn't want to freak them out) they lost interest and started entertaining each other by grabbing each other's heads multiple times, poking each other, sliding off their chairs, hanging upside down on their chairs, getting in each others' faces etc, etc.  Each time the doctor turned around to dip his suction and probe utensils in solution I was turning and snapping my fingers or telling them to stop or giving my best "knock it off glare" and quickly turning back to get more steri-strip bandage drilled out of my nose (I say drilled because that's exactly what is sounded and felt like... ouch!!!)

After having the nose stints removed (by the way I WISH my stints looked like the ones in the video on my blog .... mine were thicker and harder) ... the pressure in my nose was relieved somewhat but it's funny how it still feels like there is stuff up my nose.  Probably because of having so much of my turbenates cut off.  My doctor says I still have to be careful with my nose for 6 weeks.  Yikes!!!  I tried blowing my nose and didn't do very well with it because I can't wipe very well.  Oh well.  with time I suppose.  If my nose is shiny at the end you'll know why.  try not to laugh too hard.    At least the hard part is over.  

Now I have a new problem.  Well, not really a new problem actually... it's an old problem that I'm wondering if surgery can correct it too....

You see - I'm dessert challenged.  Once I made a cake and forgot to add the eggs.  When I made a Mrs. Field's Soft and Chewy Peanut Butter cookie recipe and divided the dough - I baked half the dough and the cookies turned out hard and crunchy and the other lady baked the other half and they turned out great.  If we are asked to make cookies for something, we are better off if Brett makes them or using the school frozen dough because if I make them from scratch... not good.  I believe I'm cursed when it comes to desserts.  I wanted to make some cupcakes because it was my friend's birthday so here was a mix I made the other day for chocolate cake that I made into cupcakes...

Brett spit it into the sink it was so bad.  I decided that I cared too much about my friend to take her these cupcakes and let the giftcard stand alone.  The kids ate them and thought they were good.  (so does that mean I don't care enough about my kids cause I let THEM eat them? hahahahaha) poor kids have no discrimination apparently.

Can this dessert problem be taken care of surgically???

No sooner had I finished telling him what I was thinking when I felt the waves of horror and embarassment (for him not me) flooding off him in the dark.  

sidebar:  once years ago when I had a really bad knee and we were going to the CN Tower and the line was freakishly long the suggestion was made that perhaps we could get a wheel-chair for me because there was no way I could stand in that long line with my knee.  Brett said that he would DIE of embarassment if he had to push me in a wheel-chair.  I was out of luck.  I when I get old.... I mean really older than I am now.... I hope that I don't become an invalid in a wheel-chair because I wouldn't want to be an embarassment to my husband.  

back to our night-time conversation:  Brett quickly outlined his plan... I would get up and leave sacrament meeting before it ended ..... whoa there!!!! before it ends?????  me??? get up and leave before the prayer???? now waves of horror were coming off of me!!!!  

The halls would be empty.... (who are we kidding?  what about all the people that hang out in the hall with their kids and sit on the couches because we all KNOW the couches are WAY more comfortable than the pews.)  

Then I would be in the Relief Society room before the mad rush after the closing prayer.  I could stay there until the end of church (what about my pee break??? that's just inhumane) and I would wait in the Relief Society room for an extra 15 minutes until the halls are clear and I can make a break for the car.  (isn't there another ward after us???)

I don't know about this plan.... I'm seriously considering the gauze moustache.  Remember I'm color coordinating it now.  I'm thinking red for tomorrow.....

p.s. as much as my gauze moustache may cause him some embarassment (come to think of it he hasn't appeared in public with me wearing it) Brett has been awesome!!! He could outdo Mr.Mom anyday!!! This past week he has done anything and everything to make our family and household run smooth.  kudos Brett!!!! 

At first after the surgery there was just the horrible pain.  Then gradually that has subsided to constant pressure.  Gee, I wonder why.  So I've told you that I have this blowing my nose issue where I'm not allowed to blow my nose right?  But my nose is filled with mucus all the time and dripping.  Fortunately I have this convenient gauze moustache to catch the blood, fluids and boogers that come down.  But boogers/mucus are not always accommodating and sit just inside your nose to drive you stark raving mad.  Regularly a good blow into a Kleenex can take care of this problem.  I'm not allowed to bend over either so I can't even do that to encourage drips to come out faster onto the gauze moustache.  drat!!!  What's a person to do???  Q-tips!!! (cue Halleluia chorus and rays from heaven).  It was when I was  Q-tipping and sighing with relief that I felt the nose stint just inside my nose at the bottom.  I freaked out!!! I thought the stints were high up inside my nose.  I don't know why I thought this... I just did.  I tap it again with the Q-tip to be sure... yep.  It's a foreign object in my nose.

I must digress for a moment before I get to the It Was Not a Pick part...

So yesterday I take my son to his doctor's office and I think... great... another public outing with my gauze moustache.  At the doctor's office I have to deal with the receptionist, two nurses, and the doctor.  None of whom say ANYTHING about my gauze moustache.  Is that odd?  Not a joke, comment, question, glance.  Nada.  Now perhaps they are just used to gauze working at a doctor's office and all... or perhaps I chanced upon 4 people who by nature have no curiosity or compassion in them.  As for me.... if I see someone with a black eye you know I'm going to say something like "who won?" or "fall out of bed again" or if they have criss-crossing bandages on their face "get run over by a train"? (that one was used on me many years ago so I feel obligated to pass it on).  

My sister called me chicken and I don't normally respond to dares.  I even took it two steps further and took these pictures without makeup and doing my hair.  But I figure if I can take my kids to school with this gauze, go to doctor's appointments, shop at Walmart etc. I can post my picture.  So here goes...

If you combine the two you have the full view.

I did have a very important meeting this morning to try to get Smiley into a special pre-school so I thought I would color coordinate my gauze moustache for the occasion....

Back to my story.  On the way home from the doctor's office last night I couldn't stop thinking about the stints in my nose (because I can't stop feeling the sensation of them.)  So I wondered how close to the opening of my nose they really were.  And the only way to really tell.... do you see where I'm going with this???? yep... I stuck my finger in my nose to feel where the stint was.  And sure enough I touched it!!! Freaky!!!!  But worse than that I realized that I was on Redwood Road with cars all around me with my finger up my nose!!!!   You're dumb as a what?? (a saying from my MIL)  I quickly snatch my finger out of my nose but was it too late?  Did someone see me?  Worse yet did someone I know see me and now forever after I will be dubbed as a nosepicker when really I'm not!!! It was not a pick!!!! It was a touch!!!! I was just touching my stint!!!!  Do you have any idea what is up my nose????  -sigh-  I can't wait until Monday when these things come out.

In bed last night I told my husband that I wanted to google nose stints.  He says "I don't want to look at it... I'll throw up and pass out."  My hero.  I don't think he is going to play the video.  What do you think?  If he does I hope his desk at work doesn't have any sharp corners.   I better call his mom and have her place some pillows on the floor around his chair.  (his office is in her basement).  

Well, Monday I get these babies out.  Can't wait.  I'll tell you tomorrow about Brett's game plan for my trip to church when I told him I was thinking of wearing my gauze moustache to make sure my nose doesn't get bumped.  

2.  You pay $1000.00 for your initial portion of the surgery (I'm sure there will be many more bills later) for a procedure that gives you pain, pain, and more pain.  Oh... and then there's the pain.  (did I mention the pain???)

3.  You are given a billion instructions of things to do to maintain your nose all while on pain killers (personally I think it is a test of intelligence and endurance while under stressful conditions that they are running concurrently with the sinus surgery... can the patient track all of these instructions while under duress).

4.  You learn to sleep at a very uncomfortable angle.  Actually that's not true at all.  You learn to lay there NOT SLEEPING at a very uncomfortable angle for many days.  

5.  You see how many days you can go without blowing your nose.  I'm not kidding.  I'm on day 

six.  No nose blowing.  It's torture.  My body subconsciously couldn't take it and for the few minutes at a time when I would fall asleep I would blow my nose gently in my sleep and the sound would wake me up.  I tried commanding my body to stop but it wouldn't.  Stinkin' body wouldn't listen to me!!!  Then when my husband caught me doing it and woke me up I stopped.  hahhahaha!!

6.  If when you hear your neighbors dogs barking you have the thought "hmmm... I wonder what they would taste like with barbeque sauce."  Well I guess that thought would go with anyone who has had surgery and is on pain killers.  At least I HOPE it was the pain killers that gave me that thought.  ahahahhaha!!!!  If not my neighbors better hide their dogs.

7.  When your kids go to hug you you hold out your hand for a low five instead cause you are afraid of anyone or anything getting close to your nose (remembering that morning when you got out of the shower and toweled off your face like you regularly do and you about went through the roof when the towel touched the tip of your nose).

8.  You get to wear a piece of gauze taped to the end of your nose to catch all the blood and ooze that comes down from the many things that were done to you.  It is also a great reminder to yourself and others that you had surgery so no throwing objects around your face, no flailing arms around you (like last night when your six year old thought he was being funny and swinging his arms around your head).

9.  You have great friends that bring you yummy food and help with kids.  Thanks for taking such good care of me and my family while I have gone through this surgery.  Thanks also to family for well wishes and prayers and for Roxy for taking care of the office so Brett could be here at home with me.  Every one has been so awesome!!! 

Downs:

1.  Pain and lots of it.

2.  Having to sleep sitting up for the first night post-surgery and at a 45 degree angle for the week following surgery.

3.  Lots and lots of post-op instructions - polysporin on a q-tip up my nose 4x a day, afrin spray every 12 hours, saline spray every hour, cool mist humidifier by bedside (crap! I forgot to get one!!!!) 8 oz of distilled water, salt and baking soda solution sprayed up my nose twice a day, antibiotics twice a day, and of course pain killers as prescribed.  I don't know how I'm going to remember that when I'm hopped up on pain killers.  I'll probably end up sticking the q-tips in my ears or something and drinking the baking soda solution.

4.  I'm afraid of more migraines which will be triggered by the pain of the surgery.

5.  No blowing my nose for a week (they didn't say anything about picking it though.... just kidding).

Ups:

1.  My ginormous co-pay and deductible can be charged to my American Express so at least I can get skymiles for my surgery.  Yeah!!!!

2.  hopefully no more sinus infections every time I get a cold.

3.  I have a legitimate reason for forgetting things for the next few days and for not doing things..."I'm so sorry... I just had surgery."  that gets you out of just about anything doesn't it????

4.  I get to try out some new soup flavors over the next couple of days.  yum!!! (I'm trying to be positive here)

5.  I have a legitimate excuse to go out in public in my hoodie and trackpants tomorrow (I was told to wear no make-up and loose comfortable clothing)

6.  My gratitude and love for my friends and family has deepened with all the offers of help and well wishes.  thanks you guys!!!

Looks like the ups have it so I have no choice but to go through with the surgery.  I don't know how long it will be before my next post.  Perhaps soon (depending on whether the pain meds are working and I'm not in pain , just goofy on pain killers- that could actually be an interesting post ... ) or whether I will be off-line completely.  Have fun blogging whether I join you or not!!

Giggles was challenged through his preschool program to complete 15 minutes of reading a day (which meant mom or dad had to read to him every day) for a month.  This goal was successfully met and as a reward there was a party for all of the children who met their reading goals.

It was held at the State Fair and dad was the lucky one who got to go with him.  The met the Cat in the Hat...

Curious George...

held a millipede... (sort looks like the one April had in her house which she then ran over with her car - again, and again, and again)

and a Madagascar hissing cockroach (I'm so glad he didn't ACCIDENTALLY bring it home with him)...

Giggles said to his dad "I was really good today wasn't I"  "yes you were" replied dad.  "will you tell mom"  (melt my heart... just like deep down Brett knows I'm nice inside...deep down Giggles wants to make good choices).  Although I did do a double take today at lunch time when he said "I saw Satan at church today." What the.... how do you NOT ask a follow-up question when you hear that????  "you saw Satan at church today?" "Yep, in a picture." (takes another bite of his sandwich) and I breath a huge sigh of relief.  If you knew Giggles you would know it really WAS a huge sigh of relief.  

Good job on your goal Giggles!  

I'm not sure what I did or said to trigger his comment as we were walking into Target but he says to me "I know somewhere deep inside you are nice." ouch!!!  Perhaps I resemble that because then we get into the store he asks if we need a cart and I say "no we are just returning something... unless you wanted to go find a shirt to buy that won't fit you and which you will never return."  (he has a history of buying things and not returning them but do I really need to rub it in???)  

My husband has his .... I wouldn't say faults ... I would say... things that drive me crazy.  But these things are insignificant when I compare them to all his wonderful characteristics.  He is the sweeter half of our marriage.  In no particular order these are some of the things I love about him:

1.  He thinks I'm beautiful (he also has really bad eyesight and a very strong prescription. fortunate for me because I was once described as homely by a family friend... my husband's poor eyesight or the fact that he is desperately in love with me blinds him to my looks.)

2.  He makes me laugh (sometimes unintentionally).  

3.  He is sooooo patient with me and my chronic headaches and migraines (I don't think I would be as generous if the shoe was on the other foot).

4.  He calls me a couple of times a day to check in and see how things are going and always asks if there is something he can pick up on the way home from work.  As sanity is not something you can pick up in a store I have to settle for milk and bananas.

5.  I love his honesty.  Remember I HATE being lied to.  

6.  He never talks bad about me in front of others (I should probably have a New Year's Resolution to do the same for him and not admit that he leaves his laundry on the floor, drinks straight from the milk container (ewww), rewinds to watch his favorite commercials , watches shows that bore me like Bear Grylls survive dangerous situations..why just now he was demonstrating how cold it was and how his knife was stuck to his hand - don't just pull it off he says or you'll take your skin off, to get it off you must pee on your hand - and Bear demonstrates it (thank goodness it was blurred out) .... remember deep down he's sure I'm nice inside.... so maybe one day I'll be as nice on the outside as he believes I am on the inside.

7.  I love his smile and his laugh.  They are contagious.  (sometimes if he is laughing too much I have to investigate because it means a boy/boys are the target of his teasing ... and when ANY dad is on a teasing roll someone ends up crying ... I speak from personal experience) ... still a smile and laugh that melt me.

8.  I love the cute sounds he makes as he is falling asleep.  Little sighs and sweet sounds of contentment (apparently I've recently started snoring... not so cute.)

9.  He does a great job of taking kids with him on Saturdays to run errands so I can have "me" time.  I don't even have to ask.  Thanks Brett!!!

10.  Although I have to draw his attention to my latest posts (I don't know if I'll tell him about this one) or ask him what he thinks about the latest quilt I have made and now he HAS to attend Gospel Doctrine class because I was recently called to teach every other week.  He does  a great job giving me compliments even if the quilt is pink and really... do boys care about pink quilts... and tells me I did a great job teaching my lesson when I'm sure he would much rather be out in the hall having a "meeting" with his friends (and by meeting I mean talking about fantasy football).  

You're the best sweetie and a love you the most!!!!

Now I should say in all fairness that growing up in Ontario, Canada with humid summers and freakishly flat hair... the two do not combine very well.  So it didn't matter how much time I spent in the bathroom curling and styling and applying mousse, hair gel, or super duper extra strong hair spray to my hair.... the second I stepped foot out the door and the humidity hit my head - poof!!! flat as a pancake (actually that isn't a very good analogy because my husband's pancakes are really very poofy so I should be more specific and say flat as MY pancakes).  So there was logic behind the home perm idea - get some curl in my hair that I did not have naturally and could not maintain no matter how hard I tried because of weather forces out of my control.  

But perhaps I would have been better off to have lived with flat hair as a teenager instead of the curls I ended up with.  For now when the pictures come out of me as a teenager, all my husband can do is tease and make fun of me with my perms.  Now I'm secure in my husband's love for me... don't get me wrong... but for some reason I'm touchy when it comes to him teasing me about my perms.  It's kind of like the unwritten rule for Canadians....  Canadians are allowed to make fun of Canada and silly Canadian things but Americans are NOT allowed to make fun of Canada and Canadian things... that makes us mad.  Or you can make fun of your own family but when an outsider makes fun of your family you get touchy about it.  That's kind of how I feel when my husband makes fun of my perms.  Are they hideous ???? yes!!! are they curly??? you bet!!!! will you laugh at them??? I can't imagine that you wouldn't.  Of course by default in a couple of these photos you will see my sister (or could we just pretend that is a neighbor visiting our house????) made the same choice I did so I was not alone in my perm-making decisions.  (you realize of course that I am a dead woman after this post).

Apparently overly large glasses were all the rage too.  Oh who am I kidding!!!  I was no fashionista.  I'm wearing a Mickey and Minnie sweatshirt for crying out loud!  You think I would be any better at choosing frames for glasses???? 

If I was to go back and do it over would I not get a perm???  I don't know.  That's the funny thing.  People with straight hair are often wanting curly hair and people with frizzy curly hair are always trying to straighten their hair.  Perhaps though I would have a professional do it.  Probably not... come to think of it ... I still today choose the home option.  I color my hair at home instead of getting it done at a salon.  Some things never change I guess.  Weird eh??? 

I'm not sure exactly when this frank honesty started because as a teenager I had a horrible self-esteem (the retainer, hand-me-down clothes and home-perms didn't help I'm sure) so naturally I would do my best to present myself in as pleasing a light to others as I could (but really... how pleasing is a home perm??? and why did I think it was cool??? that's a topic for another post).  

I even insisted that others around me curb their frankness.  Let me give you an example from my mission.  (pay no attention to my crew cut haircut ... it came as a result of poor language skills ... I asked for my hair to be shorter but what I really said was short... so the hairdresser cut it short.  I was called Elder for several months.  true story)

Back to my honesty story... One of my companions (pictured above to the left) often pointed to the hostess if something was amiss such as ants crawling across the table or cockroaches climbing up the wall and she wasn't doing it in a mean or malicious way but to be helpful like "did you know you have ants on your table?"  So the hostess could perhaps be aware of the problem and do something about it.  But for me, I would be totally and completely embarrassed everytime she pointed out one of these things in her simple honest way.  I asked her to stop doing it and could she please next time nonchalantly take care of the problem on her own.  Bless her heart I noticed at one of our dinner appointments (one of our scarier appointments where the glasses are grey... not on purpose but because they don't have soap to wash them with so there is a grey film on them... and you find a hair in your borscht and the hostess has REALLY long hair... etc.) anyways I see an inch worm climbing up my companion's drinking glass and where she would normally have said "did you know there is an inch worm on my cup?" she quietly took it off her cup and put it on the floor.  At the time I was sooooo proud of her for doing it quietly.  Now I think about it and I'm ashamed of quashing her open and honest spirit.

Today I love it when people say what they think and are honest with me.  One of the things I love most about my neighbor is that she says what she thinks.  I know where I stand with her.  It is great.  When she first came to my house one of the first things she did was say "did you know your window isn't centered on your wall?"  I had been living in my house for a year and hadn't noticed it!!! Now that's a person to like!  You know they are going to tell you things as they see it.  My sisters also tell it like it is.  This I also appreciate because I know when I ask their opinion on something they will give it.  I may not like it (hahahahha) but they will give it.

Now that's not to say that I mesh with everyone who is open and honest about their opinions.  Some people have powerful opinions that I may not agree with or personalities that I clash with.  But again... at least when someone is honest about how they feel you can know where you stand with them.

The opposite is also true.  I CAN'T stand being lied to and I've also learned it isn't in my best interests to lie - moral reasons notwithstanding.  For some reason there is nothing that gets me madder than being lied to.  If you want to see me get mad.... I mean REALLY mad.  Just lie right to my face.  It is scary actually.  Just ask the manager at Larry H. Miller Toyota.  I think he probably has nightmares of a little blonde lady yelling at him when after getting our car serviced there I discovered scratch marks across the top of the car and wet coffee stains in the back seat and the manager  accused/suggested that I must have been the one who did it because there is NO WAY his guys could have done those things. Me drink coffee??? are you kidding me??? I've never done it in my life.  no offense if you have but I told him that I hadn't and he said his guys didn't do it which meant I was lying to him.  I went postal.  Brett backed away from me and so did the secretary who had come out to ask the manager a question.  I think she forgot what she wanted to ask him I was yelling so loud.  Don't call me a liar.

As for me learning not to lie... well let's just say that my nose is a give-away... it twitches if I try.  So what's the point???

So here I am at 38, telling the honest truth about myself.  And even though I want people to like me.  I want them to like me for who I am, not for who I pretend to be.  Perhaps though I shouldn't be too honest about all my flaws because that can be a turn-off too.  Yet I can't seem to help myself.  My brutal honesty seems almost to serve as a verbal therapy.  Don't ask me how I am if you don't really want to know.  Just settle for a "hi Robin" and leave it at that - or you might be asking for trouble.  

What is the truth?? It changes from day to day.  Some days I'm happy, some days I'm frustrated, some days I'm just hanging on until bedtime for the sweet release sleep brings.  I love to be comfortable (hence my closet full of hoodies and sweatpants... sad, I know), I am daily wishing for time to quilt and sad each day when I get to the end and not a piece of fabric was on my counter ( someday there will be time... but not today), I love Star Trek (but wouldn't be caught dead at a Star Trek convention), my favorite food is french fries with gravy (its the Canadian in me), and I love eating but I hate cooking in the kitchen for a long time so if a recipe has too many ingredients or steps - forget it!!! 

What can you expect from me? honesty about myself.  as for when I talk about other things I think I'm pretty honest.. at least I try to be but online you can't see my face to know for sure so... I suppose I should post a picture of a twitching nose if I'm prevaricating or beating around the bush.

My boat go fast, my boat go speed

And my boat is at Lake Powell

And he is swimming at Lake Powell

And he sleeping on houseboat.

my boat, my boat, my boat

And he is swimming at Lake Powell

And he will be at Lake Powell

ABC'c ABC's ABC's

And my boat will be at Lake Powell.

My boat go fast, my boat go speed

My boat go fast, my boat go speed

Dad will drive on my boat speed.

And he will be swimming at Lake Powell

And he will sleep at Lake Powell

And he will sleep at Lake Powell on my boat

And he will sleep in the water.

And my boat go speed

He my best friend.

1.  I'm still recovering from staying up late New Year's Eve.

2.  I actually CHOOSE to watch Antiques Roadshow.

3.  People used to get me confused with the young women in the ward.  That hasn't happened for a really long time.  

4.  Now I watch the anti-aging commercials intently to see if the product looks real or bogus.  I'm considering getting something for my "laugh lines" (who's laughing about them? not me!!)

5.  When I open the medicine cabinet at least two or three medications fall out on my head because it is so full.  (the acid reflux medicine being one of them)

6.  In the afternoon when working on a sewing project or some other project and I turn the t.v. on I admit to watching Matlock reruns ... and liking them. 

7.  Today's technology is already beyond me ... I can't figure out how to text message - and even worse - like most old people - I have no desire to learn how to do it!!!

8.  Last night when my husband asked Giggles how long he thought we had been married Giggles replied "150,000 years".  Pretty close.  

9.  When you look through your closet at your clothes and see a dress that your mom made for you and realize that it is 20 years old!!!!  which brings up other issues like why is a 20 year old dress still in your wardrobe?  are you saving it for a special occasion?  are you saving it because your mom made it??  (I must admit at this point that I'm sick... and by sick I mean I save just about everything.  ask my sister.  It is by sheer force of will that I send things to the D.I. every few months.... usually everyone else's things hahahaha!!!! hey, I have to make space for my own.)

10.  Really, going back to number 4, my face says it all.  When I look in the mirror I'm shocked by the face that looks back at me.  Who IS this person?  What's with all the lines around my eyes??? When did that happen?? Who am I turning into and if this is what I look like at 38 what shocking number of wrinkles will I have at 48?  My sisters played a cruel trick on me last year by photoshopping their wrinkles out of the picture and keeping mine in so for a whole year I thought they looked younger than me.  What can I say?  they are pranksters that way.  

But true beauty comes from within right and you are only as young as you feel. crap! I'm in trouble in that case cause I'm tired all the time already...  so I'll just keep on watching my Matlock reruns, Antiques Roadshow and popping my reflux meds and Tums and accept the fact that I'm getting older and watch for other tell-tale signs.  Perhaps soon I'll start driving with my nose to the steering wheel or needing bifocals.  (no offense if you are already doing that)

We took the boys sledding (sleigh riding according to Brett) on the coldest afternoon of the week after Christmas.  We didn't know it would be the coldest afternoon of the week but there you have it.  We lasted all of 20 minutes with 2 sleds (because remember we only have 2 and all of the stores are sold out).  

The boys did a great job of sharing.

Of course there is always at least one kid who ends up crying and hurt because dad pushed him on a sled down the hill too fast resulting in a crash....

I thought I was smart enough to wear two layers of pants and two pairs of socks but the wind still made it through my coat and I found myself bribing my kids off the hill with promises of pizza and hot chocolate.  

Once Smiley made it to the top of the hill (no easy task as the hill was pretty slick) the kids eagerly ran to the car.  

They must have been as cold as I was.  And don't anyone say I should be used to the cold because I'm from Canada!!!!  My excuse is that I have poor circulation.   My sister would say it could stem from the poor genes from second cousins marrying second cousins way back in our family line.  That would explain a lot of other things too wouldn't it???

Well, sadly for the boys they are back to school on Monday and happily for me, they are back to school on Monday.