Category: Family

Enough With Politics, Let’s Talk BABIES!

Day one of the Republican National Convention was basically cancelled due to Hurricane Gustav making landfall yesterday.  It appears like everything in the gulf coast will return to normal quick enough for the convention to get back on track today, but it still kind of ticks me off that the Democrat’s love fest didn’t get interrupted in a similar way.

I’m really glad they evacuated New Orleans, even though the storm was less powerful than expected.  Of course, next time everyone will think “it’s not going to be bad, just like last time.”  Why do we idiot humans think things can never be worse than last time?  It’s almost like we have only the capability to store feelings from ‘the last time.’  Hopefully Katrina was tragic and disastrous enough that it will remind us for at least a generation to not mess with these things.

I’m telling you, the Reps can’t catch a break this year.  Even the hurricanes are against them.

Continue reading Enough With Politics, Let’s Talk BABIES!

The Whose-Gow, Nevada Torture, and Whisker Pie

As most boys do, we enjoyed a little rough-housing with my dad when we were little.  The rough housing endgame was usually one of three torture mechanisms:

  1. The Whose-Gow, where your head gets clamped in between Dad’s legs.
  2. The Nevada Torture, where Dad pins your arms down with his knees while poking his finger into your chest.
  3. Whisker Pie, where Dad rubbed the stubble from his face all over you like sand paper.

We knew that if Dad could get us into one of these positions, the fight was over and we would have to yield, so our main goal was to stay out of the Whose-Gow, Nevada Torture, or Whisker Pie.

Well, I feel like the universe currently has me in all three of these at the same time…  And what am I referring to?

Gas Prices!

Continue reading The Whose-Gow, Nevada Torture, and Whisker Pie

This Looks Familiar

I don’t know if I’m sleep deprived or what, but when I saw this little clip last night, this is what I thought:


Ohh… that lion is going to bite that lady’s head off. Hasn’t she ever seen Siegfried and Roy?

Wait a minute… he’s hugging her. Ohh.. it’s the lion’s mommy…

Ohh… I’m kind of like a lion. At least we have similar colored hair and equally unpredictable mood swings.

Ohh… I love my mommy like the lion…

Ohh… that is me.

So Mom, this one’s for you today..

From a Wigwam

When my siblings and I were young, our mom (in her infinite wisdom) made us all take piano lessons.

None of us lasted a long time on it, except my sister who could play the world’s hardest song, “The Spinning Song” from book #3 or 4 in the Thompson series. I remember it went something like “deedle deedle dum dum, da da, deedle deedle dum dum, da da!

She must have played that pattern ONE BILLION TIMES! (even 20 years later it rattles through my head)

Continue reading From a Wigwam

A Blog from the Air

 

Airplane

A WhiteEyebrows first! Here I am blogging from the friendly skies… kind of. I am writing this blog as I am traveling back toward the Great State of Texas, but even though they have figured out how to accept credit cards on a plane, they still haven’t figured out how get us the internet up here (hello!?!?). To add insult to injury we have one of those militant flight attendants who takes every opportunity to talk on the intercom…“At this time ALL electronic devices must be turned off.. anything with headphones or a screen… ANYTHING WITH AN ON OFF BUTTON has to be turned off. Laptops can’t be in the seat pocket, they have to be under the seat or in an overhead compartment.”

I mean, come on. How much latitude do these people think they have in making up the rules as they go along?

And really… if the aviation industry really thinks that my iPod is going to somehow interfere with the navigation systems of this plane. That’s just pathetic.

As if that wasn’t enough, we were warned of “clear sky turbulence.” I fly several times a year, but I have never heard of such a thing… oh well. I guess we can just let her feel like she knows it all.

My vacation was absolutely wonderful, thanks for asking. Late November is a great time to visit Southern California. I spent the first two days at Disneyland with my mom, sister, brother-in-law and four nieces. It was truly the happiest place on earth. My full Disneyland experience will have to be talked about in a separate blog, but to sum it up, I have never seen four girls so excited (and four adults so tired) in my life. We had an absolutely incredible, magical time.

Returning to my uncle’s house was no treat. The morning after day 2 in Disneyland was not pretty. Upset stomach lead to vomiting which lead to headache, bodyache, and soreness. When I finally broke down and took something to try to start feeling better, my mother and aunt gave me a drug which I had never heard of before, but which I took. Then I looked it up online. It wasn’t headache medicine, it was for menstrual cramps. Furthermore it had been taken off of the market in 2005 because of evidence that it might lead to coronary problems.

Great. At least I had solved my non-existent menstrual cramping and taken another ding to my already doomed cardiovascular system.

All this nastiness lead to missing one of my most favorite-est shopping days of the year: the Wednesday BEFORE thanksgiving. Forget “black Friday.” Ask anyone in the grocery business what their worst day of the year is, and it’s gotta be “black Wednesday,” the day when everyone gets the groceries for their thanksgiving feast. So I missed my black Wednesday shopping appointment with my uncle.

I overcame all this adversity in time for Thursday’s fantastic Thanksgiving meal, with complete trimmings: turkey, stuffing, hand mashed potatoes, spinach salad, homemade rolls, etc.

Then my dear uncle infected me with his head cold. So for the last 3 days of my vacation, I have been chugging the Nyquil and lounging about.

All in all, it was a great vacation. All my family (except a brother who had to stay and divvy out the Turkeys to the St. Georgians) was there. We enjoyed many card games, movies, laughs, trips out and about, and personal one-on-one therapy. We solved the world’s (and our own family’s) problems one at a time, and enjoyed every moment of it.

I just glanced away from my computer for a minute as we traveled over the Colorado River and Arizona desert. As I look out over this beautiful blue tinted horizon on this amazingly clear day with the sun setting behind me, I can’t help but feel grateful. I have an amazing life which knows little want. I have an incredibly supportive family who has my back at every turn. I have a job I feel excited and passionate about. I enjoy great health and am generally happy and positive about life and the future.

Even if there is such a thing as “clear sky turbulence” every once in a while, there’s no reason why I can’t buckle up and enjoy the view. Here at 33,000 feet you will rarely be disappointed.

Samified

Monday I returned from my reconnectification (vacation) and on my third day back at work, I have come to the following conclusion: I’m never taking 10 days off again.

When I returned, there was a pile, nay, a plethora of work for me to do. While I was gone they decided to set a deadline for all my work to be done the day after I returned from my vacation. So, needless to say, they were beating down the door the morning I got back.

But that’s OK. It’s nice to be needed.

Now I’m using phrases like “head above water” and “coming up for air”. Someone told me I looked “samified.” I’m not sure if that means clueless, overworked, frustrated, or just dead sexy.

I finally got back to writing a blog 3 days after I returned. I’m officially sorry for not writing more while I was on vacation, but I was just having WAY too much fun to really post.

Somehow this story from my sister about my two year old niece puts everything back into perspective:

…Apparently [Kyla] was in [her room] needing to poop. So she got on her bed. Pulled off her pants and pooped on the bed. Then she put her pants back on. (leaving me a treasure in there from the aftermath) and went to the closet found some wipes got out 2 and picked up the poop into the wipes, crawled under her bed. Lifted off the vent cover (which is completely underneath her bed) and put her poop in the vent. Then she put the cover back on and played in her room. When I went to get her out to go pick up E and J at school to take them to gymnastics, i found poop on the bed. Took Kyla to the bathroom into the tub. put her clothes in laundry. Then looked for the poop. I knew it had to be somewhere from the streaks and residue on the bed but couldn’t find it, so I asked Kyla where it was, she got out of tub and showed me in the vent. So I had to clean out the vent. Meanwhile i realize that I am going to be late for the picking up of kids… oh the fun oh the joy…

Moments like this make me realize, my life isn’t so bad after all. At least my coworkers don’t deposit poop under my desk.

A Fixer Upper

A Fixer UpperEven new houses have problems. This is what I have discovered in the first 2 years of living in my new house. Foundations and concrete heaves and shifts, sheet rock nail pops happen, residues and funny smells abound, and everything that was weakly constructed will break at some point.

Women, sit down here for a second and lets have a chat. In the last 25 years or so, you have finally come to an understanding of a phenomenon of your gender, that you tend to look past the flaws of a man and marry them based on potential, rather than their current state. Phrases such as “women marries man hoping he’ll change, and man marries women hoping she never will” and “careful women, you can’t change him” have become staple sentiments of our dating ideology.

No wonder people are waiting longer and longer to get married. Men are now expected to have it more together, to have all the partying out of their system, and to be mature… pshht. You long surpassed us in the maturity area starting at age 12, but that’s another post altogether.

This has led me to the conclusion: Women, realize that every man is a fixer upper. Granted, there are men who are more fixer uppers than others. There are some who should be downright avoided, and some abusive behaviors that can’t be fixed. Avoid those for sure. But, you need to realize that there’s no such thing as a Bisquick marraige (just add woman), and that the man you want to marry will most definitely require your guiding hand in refining his personality, habits, and behaviors.

Men… to quote the philosopher Hinckley, “the woman you choose will take a great chance on you.” So don’t be an idiot. Don’t mess with her. Somehow you have duped her into marrying you, now it’s time to pay the piper. If you absolutely trust that she has your best interest at heart, and if you listen to her, she will make you a better person.

So my conclusion is, yes, marry people based on their potential, but more importantly marry people based on their potential for change. If you share common goals and hopes for the future, and you are both flexible to each other’s wills, maybe it just might work out.

There is no more redefining moment in your life than a marriage, so just how will it define the rest of your life?