Seriously there are no words. A family in a town about 30 minutes north of me threw their daughter a party for her 6th birthday... and spent $32,000 on it. Yes you read that right.
They were on a show on TLC called over-the-top birthday parties. Um- over-the-top, really, ya think? That's pure insanity, not over the top. Who does this- seriously? I don't care if TLC really did pitch in a little, that's just wrong.
Who has 2,000 guests for a 6 year old's party- what 6 year old even knows 2,000 people? And costumes for them all! I can think of a way better use of 32 grand. Even if I had nothing that I needed it for- I still wouldn't spend it on a birthday party. There's a million things that kind of money could do, how many lives it could save, how many kids it could educate, how many books I could read.
The funny thing- both Schroedad and I asked the same question when we saw this on the news. Smarty Pants: How long does she have left? Schroedad: Is she gonna die? Answer: Nope.
Even if someone offered to throw a party like this for the Girl Child, and I didn't have to pay a dime, I still wouldn't let it happen- not even for a wedding. Because that's just nuts.
So I don't think this picture counts for the right out of the showerness, however, there is no makeup on- so it sort of works, because I have a no naked picture policy that I strictly adhere to. It took some time to really decide on which feature I liked the best, mostly cause I was waiting for the steam to clear off of the mirror.
After some deliberation, it was between my eyes and my left cheek dimple, my green eyes won out. I love these green eyes in my head, and the eyebrows above them- they can communicate a host of emotions.
There's the 'mom look' that lets Girl Child, and The Schroedad, know that the limits are being tested. Then there's the come hither look, I'm sure you can use your imagination for that one. And the crazy eyes- that one says 'caution-it's been one of those days'.
These green green eyes can give a look of understanding and sympathy, a look of acceptance and unconditional love. Somehow they say spill your guts, tell me your problems- I'll understand, I won't judge. And that's just what happens, and all I can figure is that it's these eyes that do it. Sometimes they fill with tears, then they're really green, and it's apparent that my heart is full- happy or sad, either way.
Best of all these green eyes crinkle a little at the edges when I smile, and they hold a little sparkle of mischief. Like they're just waiting for a great idea to explode into full mischief mode.
Some times I think about weird stuff at night when I'm trying to fall asleep. Last night I was thinking to myself about Oprah. It's crazy how she's this trend setting talk show host, who is sort of trying to take over the world. I mean she went from harpo productions to having her own channel for crying out loud. She's like the emperor and darth vader all rolled into one. I warned you it was crazy at the beginning.
Then I though about when Oprah dies, will there be a 3 day funeral, with a procession that goes all around the country with her embalmed body? Will she be kept in one of those creepy glass caskets on display, like Lenin and Stalin? Weird I know, and potentially a little sick too.
So this led, in my stream of consciousness, to Ryan Seacrest. Is he going to be the next Oprah? Will there be a Ryan's favorite things list? Will he open a school for children, where they'll learn how to have 60 jobs at once? Or is Ryan Seacrest just a puppet whose strings are actually being held by Oprah?
Then I finally manage to turn my brain off, and get to sleep. That's when the really weird stuff happens. Do you ever have dreams that are so vivid that when you wake up you're sure that it actually could have taken place? I do. A lot. Good thing they never actually happen though- or my neighbors would be moving to Virginia to do horse riding competitions, and I love them so. Or worse still, I would be stuck swimming in the ocean- intermittently filled with sharks and jelly fish. Strange right?
I wonder if dreams actually have meanings, not like those dreams where an angel comes to you and gives you a heavenly message, cause I've never had one those, but normal every day meanings- like you're worried about punctuality, or you need to be more organized.
So the point of this whole, write about my crazy brainly workings before I fall asleep, post- is that I need to figure out how to fall asleep faster (before all of this crazy Darth Vader talk can start going) and I need to really just get a good night's sleep for Pete's sake!
End transmission of the crazy channel
Dear Schroedad,
I must tell you, that while I am so excited about our trip that I almost can't sleep, I'm also feeling a strange something or other. I don't think I'm hungry, definitely not gassy, just nervous- I think. You see, I've been having strange dreams wherein my beloved child gets kidnapped, or we all get kidnapped, oh, has it been rather exhausting for all the sleep it has involved, and do you realize that we are traveling through some very busy airports?
I know it's such a silly thing, worried over randomly strange stories that run through my head in the night time hours. Especially since the Girl Child, really, is a more seasoned traveler than most kids her age, or your age for that matter, but still- these dreams are freaking me out.
So getting to the point of this whole letterly public display of nervousness, keep an extra close eye on the strange-ish people at the airport for me, please?
Love,
Smarty pants
You know that game I have- things that must go? Well I have another version for you today, it's Things that should stay. I'm sure you all have your lists too, of those things that just make life a little nicer. I know you're thinking of them in your head- I'll wait.
Girl child going to bed nicely- that definitely should stay for a long time, or at least until she moves out.
Mirror notes- I love writing on the mirror with dry erase markers, especially since I can't ever find a pen, or blank paper
Those really great ideas that pop right into my head while I'm in the shower- especially since I now write them on the mirror and actually remember them
And speaking of showers- nice hot showers at the end of the day- then I can get into bed all snuggly, and my sheets are perfectly chilly and the pillow is just the right degree cold. The cold side of the pillow is a luxury unto it self, but don't you agree?
Compliments about my brains or otherwise genius self- not that compliments in the form of 'you look nice' aren't accepted too. It's just that the ones about my brains are so much more appreciated.
It finally feels like fall- the leaves are starting to pile up and it's the perfect shade of cloudy.
My pumpkins are just the right color for picking (yes that is a hovercraft sitting in my garden) It's practically the perfect time of year.
And best of all- I think I just found a venue in which to sell my tiny truffles. Pumpkin and cookies & cream for now, then after I perfect them, eggnog and wassail too. It was one of those happy accidents- serendipity I believe it's called.
Boxes- pretty little boxes. I need to find some to package those tiny truffles in. Maybe plain white boxes with ribbon tied on. what do you think? Oh the possibilities. I love the sparkly nesting and cooking feelings that fall brings. The ideas that suddenly pop into my brain- visions of sugar plums even!
It makes me wonder why my brain is so much more active in the fall-ish times. Do you know? I sure don't- but I've learned not to look a good idea horse in the mouth, or however that expression goes.
My brain child was born, well one of them anyway, it was a long and very intensive gestation and labor, like that of an elephant. The pumpkin truffles are perfected, 9 out of 10 tasters agree.
I've been stewing on these babies for nearly a year, and working obsessively all week. Trying different variations, a pinch more of this, a lot less of that, white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate. White, definitely, white.
You'd think after all of that hard work I'd at least take a picture of 1 of my babies, alas, I was too overcome to think of the camera at a moment like that.
So now, I'm even starting to contemplate selling my truffle babies (wassail, and eggnog are nearly ready). I even have the perfect name- wait for it- Tiny Truffles. It makes a sparkly vision in my head when I say it. Tiny Truffles- see there it is again.
All I need is just a few elves to do the hard labor, for free, and someone who can design a cute logo. Maybe the tooth fairy, or the Easter Bunny- it's his off season you know.
I think I would actually do it if I were more of a risk taker, but I speak safety and security, not entrepreneur or small business loan. I need to learn a few more languages apparently- why not French, too, while I'm at it?
*No testers, or animals, were harmed in the making of this product
Often times, for reasons unknown to even myself, I'll find myself thinking about jobs. Ones that I would not be a good fit for, ones that I would so rock at, and just in case I ever find myself in a position where I am offered said job, I'll be prepared with my answer without having to think about it. (Like a majority of my thoughts, this doesn't actually serve a purpose.) I'm sure you're wondering just exactly wouldn't I be good at- and not wanting to come off as egotistical, I'll leave you with the list of jobs I'd suck at:
President of the United States- I would veto things just for the sake of stamping a giant NO on it. And also I would blow off dumb meetings to play hide and seek in the White House. And I would be painfully honest and probably tell "important" people how truly unimportant they are, potentially starting WW3
Proctologist- behinds are gross
Podiatrist- same as above, except feet- feet are yucky
Sportscaster- I don't really love sports and I'd just play with the screen pen thing on people's faces- goatees, horns, handlebar mustaches, and the like
DJ- I'd only play music I liked- none of that lame crap
Game show host- I hate seeing people uncomfortable, so if they didn't know the answer I'd randomly blurt it out
Traffic cop- I'd make rude people wait an extra long time, just to teach them about considerate driving and some patience
Anything on an aircraft carrier- I watched this show called Carrier on PBS, and boy did that teach me that I'd never make it there. The deck gets up to 140 F- I'd be on break all of the time, too hot. They have to save all of the garbage until they stop at a port- smelly. There's really nothing I'd be good at there. Lucky for me, I'm not often approached out of the blue and offered random jobs in which I have absolutely no experience. It's probably not a coincidence, either, that I selected jobs that have relatively high levels of pressure upon job performance, either. I'm all about keeping the expectations low, or at least not too high, so I don't disappoint anyone.
The day before today The Girl Child laced up her filthiest tennis shoes and went on a field trip to the state fair, all to see the huge display of ribbon winning cows, and their poop.
And there were cows galore, on account of the FFA. There one that was as huge as the inside of a ford focus, one that was tall and skinny. There were horses, and goats and bunnies, and a crocodile that you had to pay ten bucks to see.
Well ten bucks is a lot to pay to see a crocodile, I mean we could go to the zoo and see lots of animals for ten bucks. Now if there were a bearded lady, or the man with webbed hands I may have paid to see that- but probably not.
Too bad she got sick and had to come home early- now I'll never know if, in fact, there were any other great attractions at the fair. And there was no time for cotton candy. I think it's a rule or something that cotton candy must be consumed at the fair, or the universe is thrown cataclysmically out of balance. If the world suddenly ceases, I'm sorry- and I blame the cotton candy
Mediocre
I know it's not a very impressive word, and all too often it's misunderstood- like a 16 year old girl, misunderstood. Usually people equate this word with less than stellar performance, a half-hearted try, only so-so.
I'm here to inform you that my word- to describe me is so much more than a job poorly done.
Literally it means half way up the mountain, it comes from the Latin mediocris. This word doesn't describe how far I have to go, or how much more I have to do. It tells how far I've come- halfway there- on my way to the top is better than standing at the bottom, looking up and refusing to try.
I am mediocre, hear me roar
I'm fairly confident that I woke up this morning in Utah, as I have lived here for the last 4 years-solid evidence. But then outside, I'm sure it's telling me I'm back in Illinois, it is speaking that midwestern talk, that I was barely able to understand (and they say southerners are hard to understand- ha!).
It's saying things like humidity, and severe thunderstorms, flooding and funnel clouds. Hence the location confusion, cause Utah is desert-y, and dry, and un-tornado-y. But there are mountains being lit up in the back ground of the lightning that are definitely NOT Illinois, cause the highest point there is a whopping 75 feet, or something ridiculously flat.
I'm thoroughly confused, and I don't have toto to chat with about it- Bear dog is cowering under the bed. He's more like the wicked witch of the west anyway, he melts in the rain and other such precipitation, and he flies like one of those creepy monkeys when he breaks out, how else would he escape so much if not for the flying powers?
Warning: there is no cohesiveness to this post, it's random bits of randomness.
I love those plain, boring days. The ones where you could sleep walk through the routine for all it's sameness. Bear and Emma are mauling each other, again, the laundry is going, again, and life is good, as usual. And I'm glad for it.
There's only about a month left before school- and we haven't done anything; must remedy. Movies tonight sounds good.
We measured for sod this morning, I think that there needs to be more work done on the sprinklers, but Schroeder disagrees. Oh well, if there's digging to be done later it's ok (note: it's ok cause I probably won't be the one doing it)
I have a hard time watching grown-ups who still play the annoying high-school-esque games with the whole cliques and excluding people thing. I just don't understand, and really never did.
I keep having strange dreams- where I have a baby all of a sudden, and then by the end of the dream I've lost it only to find it later in really weird places, like the bathroom cupboard and the laundry basket. No more allergy medicine right before bed, it's kinda freaking me out.
Some good tunes I've recently discovered and love:
Phoenix: 1901 (or anything on the Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix album really)
Neon Trees: Animal
Florence & the Machine: Heavy
Wow that's a lot of random junk- and it feel really good to get it out of my brain- you were warned, I apologize anyway. I wonder if that's what kids with ADD really do feel like, but don't you? Is it always that random and scattered?
I have admitted to having cleaning ADD, you know, where you start cleaning one thing and go to put something away in another room, and suddenly you start cleaning that new room and on and on and on. Until you discover that the whole day is gone, you've cleaned lots of things but the house, somehow, is still a mess. It's a bewildering feeling I tell you.
I'm not very good with wrap it all up ending paragraphs, not so good with the intros either to be perfectly honest. So that's all you get for a finisher.
Seriously, I'm done.
Emma- no reason
I'm feeling pretty good about things right now because somehow we managed to convince a reluctant young woman to go with us- a feat worthy of Hercules even. Now to help her get packed and her clothes figured out... It's a good thing the dang flag is done-ish, heavy on the ish. But really there are 2 days left and maybe 10 more things to do- I think it'll be ok in the end, and if we forget something it's no big deal.
Hopefully the thing I don't forget is something really important like the tents, more likely it'll be a personal comfort like deodorant, and I'll be the smelly kid for the trip. Even so, it's no big deal.
You know that primary song, the one about pioneer children and how they sang as they walked and walked and walked and...you get the picture. Well trek has started to feel that way to me. We've been prepping for it for 6 whole months, and now, just before we're about to leave, I'm so sick of it I could just about barf.
I still need to finish our family flag and I just can't get myself to do it. Our kid who I was counting on to be the creative force behind the whole thing bailed last minute leaving me hanging. Do we even need a family flag for pete's sake? Who really cares if there is a flag or not? I don't that's who.
I feel a bad attitude starting, and I'm doing my best to squish it before it ruins the whole danged experience. Pray for me people.
It's amazing what a good night's sleep will do for your soul, wonders I tell you, wonders. And now that I've had two in a row- I'm feeling pretty dang wonderful.
Girl Child was too exhausted to go to the last day of school, she woke up at 5:30 am starving- I think she ate more for breakfast than she's ever eaten before in a whole day, then she promptly plopped on the couch and slept until 10:30. Really she didn't miss much. Either way- it's official- summer's here and we can play and swim and do whatever we want- we don't answer to the man in the summer!
So getting back to the point of this whole rambling story I learned some things while in the throes of a sleep-deprived delirium- in no particular order:
1) Spelling and writing are hard when you've not slept, don't know why. But seriously try convenience sometime, just try it- i before e except after c and then some nonsense about 3 E's and 2 C's and some such nonsense.
2) Everything is funny after the bewitching hour of 2:45 am, it's the best time to watch random movies, like strange brew or the holy grail. I've not seen them during normal business hours- so I don't have normalcy of thought to compare it against.
3) I should not eat a bowl of reese's puffs in the middle of the night, no matter what movies is on or how late I will be up. milk + night time + smarty pants= belly ache.
4) This may be good practice for babies to come (nothing yet-no announcements here ) but it makes me less inclined to want more with reminders like this. And to the solution to second guessing is sniffing gushy babies- any variety will do, just pick one up and sniff the top of their little baby head. Magic, but don't you agree?
This Sunday is 5th sunday, and I have to teach. Since I forgot to schedule it in to our teaching schedule, and I didn't want to redo it yet again, I decided to come up with my own lesson. I'm sure I'll only fill half of the time and then be sad I didn't just teach from a a manual and redo the dang schedule again, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Hopefully Lehi's family will hold their attention for the whole hour. The lesson is about the differences in the amount of effort each put into gaining a testimony and the consequences of their choices. I'll give you the run down.
So Nephi- he's the youngest, he prays and thinks about the visions his father has- and he gets to see them, and gains a testimony.
And Sam- Older than Nephi but not the eldest, prays about it and trusts his father and Nephi. He has faith and gains a testimony.
Laman & Lemuel- the elder brothers- not so much, they do wonder but don't pray and then just bicker and fight, never gain a testimony and they end up dwindling in unbelief.
Even after L&L saw angels, heard the voice of God, were shocked by the power of God they still never gained a testimony, why? They never put any effort into it, and they kept thinking how they'd be better off in Jerusalem, and they complained- a lot. point of story- don't whine, and do some work, and some other such moral. Hopefully the youth will get it- and I will manage somehow not to slaughter it even more than I already have. Maybe I should take food- that's pretty much a free pass right?
He's been staring up at me from the counter top- he had to go. Emma calls him puffy, I call him creepy; but strangely, if I stare into his plastic googley eyes long enough I find the answers to life's questions. (He came to our house second hand- courtesy of the boy next door.)
Like what is that smell that wafts through the kitchen every time I open the refrigerator door? It's like a stink demon ghosting through the house, chasing me with gag inducing powers. It was the salad Emma made, old and stinky and uneaten. It came to my brain, a clear picture of the offending bowl, as I was looking into those unmoving eyes.
And will my traitor elbow ever bend the right way again? It was pain and torture part 2 today- much less painful, and good news- the elbow in question is not, in fact, frozen. Which means that one day, in the future I will most likely have full use of the arm restored.
I also was informed that I should attempt swimming tonight- those eyes, full of answers I tell you. It's like having a spiky 8 ball that talks right to your soul, and has disturbing eyes. Did I mention the eyes yet?
So maybe creepy stuffed puffer fish can stay, since he is answering all of these epic questions for me. In her room though- then I can visit him, and hear the advice from the fish, but won't have to feel the dead stare of it on my back.
I wish there was a pager thing for cell phones- I lose mine way too often. Down the couch, on the bathroom counter, the depths of the purse. I try, unsuccessfully mind you, to put it in the same place when I'm done with it- you know so I'll know where to find it next time I want to use it.
Somehow I have developed cell phone amnesia. As soon as I'm done using it I promptly set it down and then forget that I just used it, then the wandering search begins. I think it's an actual medical condition, I don't think there is a cure.
Also there is no food in this house, not a thing to eat- so I must make the obligatory trip to Costco, on a Friday, Gah! I'm so not looking forward to that- not even the samples can mitigate the headache that is Costco on a Friday, or Saturday for that matter. I know- procrastination is the root of all evil or some such old adage. I'm sure I won't learn my lesson from this as I know that in my hermitishly cave like existence I will let us run completely out of food again before I go shopping next. and I'll curse my procrastination then too. I blame it all on the amnesia
I was under the impression that there were 50 states in the United States of America, that California was one of them, and that there was never a wrong time to show patriotism to the flag. Apparently I was wrong.
At a high school in California (I'd do the cool linky thing for you, but alas I'm technologically uneducated) 5 students were sent home from school, a public school mind you, for wearing apparel with the flag on it. because it was sinco de mayo.
Sorry, what?
They were sent home because 'they were trying to cause trouble' by wearing clothing with the U.S. flag on it, on a Mexican holiday.
Ok- except:
1. When is it inappropriate to wear patriotic clothing, IN YOUR OWN COUNTRY?
2. They don't even celebrate the dang holiday in Mexico (it's sort of like Columbus day to us)
3. Most of the kids who were sent home were 1/2 Mexican.
By the way- I think it's great to have awareness about other cultures celebrations, but you should probably pick one that they actually celebrate.
So if I complained about clothes with the U.S. flag being worn on St. Patrick's Day, Live Oaks High School, would you send those rude, trouble making kids home so they don't hurt my feelings?
This morning as I was getting ready for church, and all of the meetings before, I was talking to myself in the mirror. I know, it sounds sort of crazy- but I never claimed that I wasn't.
I wondered things- like how was it decided; the challenges we would face, our strengths and weaknesses? Are the things I have a hard time with now the same things I struggled with before I came to Earth or are they new things I'm not so good at?
I've always felt like I'm the epitome of average, mediocre is my middle name. I've felt this way since I was a child. There are lots of things I'm capable of doing, but no one area where I'm really great. now I'm not fishing for compliments or even comparing myself to others (which I do too often anyway)- it's just a fact, and that's ok. Mediocre is half way up the mountain, and that's at least a start- right?
Even stranger- I totally saw the value and worth of others, but never myself.
Oh - it gets better. In every single blessing I can remember, the first thing that was said- Heavenly Father loves me.
and.I.still.don't.get.it.
I know. thick skulled apparently. It's hard being a 'why' child.
There is a point to all of this nonsense. I think it is actually helping me in my calling right now. I can feel sympathy for those morose, complain-y teenagers (and believe me they're complaining). So maybe this is where a weakness becomes a strength, as promised.
