1. Lose your driver's license.
2. Then realize, after tearing up the house with no luck, that you can't find your social security card either.
3. Spend another half of the day (that was set aside for packing) looking for other non-photo ID and/or driver's license, while waiting on the phone in several different queues trying to speak to airport* & DMV personnel. I think the most I waited on hold was over 45 minutes, but had at least three half-hour waits before getting to speak to human beings.
5. Drive all the way down to the DMV with three rambunctious little boys, without cash, debit, or checkbook, intending to pay the $22 fee to get a replacement license. They don't take credit card, the only form of payment you bring.**
(HELLO, shouldn't everywhere take credit? I pay my card off every month. Why should I be penalized for people who don't pay their CC bills? )
Despite Murphy's law today keeping me from any real plans to pack and leave early, there were some perks:
1) I got a really cute (IMO) haircut yesterday, and it's my opinion that matters, so, yay!
2) I found an inexpensive plane ticket so I can fly from Utah to Chicago during my trip, and go visit Katie (my sister, hubby, and new baby Abigail) & Shelly (cousin, hubby, kids, and brand new twins) in Iowa and Illinois. My mommy will watch my kiddos so I can fly out and back without Rob having to take any extra days off of work.
3) I learned my nephew Spencer wants to get baptized, and we get to attend his baptism on Jan. 3rd. : )
4) *I learned that an airport will accept a temporary license (no photo) with another form of ID like my birth certificate. Phew! But note to self to get a copy of my social security card and keep it on file!
5) **At the DMV today, two complete strangers offered to pay my fee rather than seeing me drive all the way home w/ my little boys to get my checkbook. Talk about a heartwarming Christmas experience of selfless people serving others. Of course I insisted on getting a gal's address so I can reimburse her, but it still blows me away that she tried to just offer me the money to save me the hassle of trying to drive home and back before the DMV closed.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Hippopotamuses
For all of you sneaky people out there who have known about this song for ages and never told me about it, I just discovered it this week because it has played a few times on our favorite christmas radio station. I *love* it! Ha ha ha ha! Typed the song title into the youtube search engine, and voila.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
An Announcement
UPDATED 12/12/08: By the way, for any of you who don't know who's baby pics I'm posting on my blog (i.e. my friends who haven't met my family), Katie is my sister. Ben is her husband, and Abigail is their first baby, and Nana's (my mom) 2nd female grandchild. Very, very fun!
If you click on Abigail's full name further down in this post, it is a link to Katie & Ben's blog, and you can see a pic of my sister and her Mr. And more pics of Abigail.
UPDATED: New pics of beautiful Abigail. Isn't my new niece precious?
Abigail Elisabeth Knoll arrived last night in Iowa, to two very proud parents, Katie & Ben Knoll. Congratulations on your new alarm clock, you two!
If you click on Abigail's full name further down in this post, it is a link to Katie & Ben's blog, and you can see a pic of my sister and her Mr. And more pics of Abigail.
UPDATED: New pics of beautiful Abigail. Isn't my new niece precious?
Abigail Elisabeth Knoll arrived last night in Iowa, to two very proud parents, Katie & Ben Knoll. Congratulations on your new alarm clock, you two!
Monday, December 1, 2008
{Laissez-faire}* n. A term used...
...to describe a policy of allowing events to take their own course with minimal intervention.
Jeffrey and Bryce were undeterred by my procrastination to put up the tree.
If you could bottle the enthusiasm and energy of my boys as they gathered, assembled, & decorated our christmas tree tonight, we would not need prozac.
I did not bring in a single box from the garage. They found them, brought them all in, opened them all (oh the glee in their countenances!), and set to work attaching all the branches, checking the light strands, and so on. My only contribution was turning on a Burl Ives christmas CD, which only heightened their enjoyment of the process.
We stopped them for the scriptures, song, and prayer part of FHE, and then let them continue their project.
The tree looks awful (in my humble, artistic opinion), but oh, the memories they made tonight! I love it. How I love my boys!
And the creme de la creme was the allegory Bryce announced with "aha" eyes: "Oh, mom! The star is at the very top, looking down on the tree. The star is God. And all the ornaments are God's children. He's watching over us!" He also decided on his own an hour earlier that he is going to take his Book of Mormon for book share on Wednesday.
Ahhhh, the warm fuzzy moments.
*I have no idea how to pronounce this.
I wish Karolyn were here and could tell me; Shelly can. I don't think it's coincidence, though, that it looks like the english word "lazy." I was SO lazy tonight.
Jeffrey and Bryce were undeterred by my procrastination to put up the tree.
If you could bottle the enthusiasm and energy of my boys as they gathered, assembled, & decorated our christmas tree tonight, we would not need prozac.
I did not bring in a single box from the garage. They found them, brought them all in, opened them all (oh the glee in their countenances!), and set to work attaching all the branches, checking the light strands, and so on. My only contribution was turning on a Burl Ives christmas CD, which only heightened their enjoyment of the process.
We stopped them for the scriptures, song, and prayer part of FHE, and then let them continue their project.
The tree looks awful (in my humble, artistic opinion), but oh, the memories they made tonight! I love it. How I love my boys!
And the creme de la creme was the allegory Bryce announced with "aha" eyes: "Oh, mom! The star is at the very top, looking down on the tree. The star is God. And all the ornaments are God's children. He's watching over us!" He also decided on his own an hour earlier that he is going to take his Book of Mormon for book share on Wednesday.
Ahhhh, the warm fuzzy moments.
*I have no idea how to pronounce this.
I wish Karolyn were here and could tell me; Shelly can. I don't think it's coincidence, though, that it looks like the english word "lazy." I was SO lazy tonight.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Overheard
We often separate our boys at bedtime. Once they're asleep, we put them back in their room; Bryce & Nathan share the full bottom bunk, and Jeffrey sleeps on the twin top bunk.
Tonight we put Nathan in our room and he had a fit. He was miserably crying and saying he wanted to be in his own bed tonight. So Rob told him that once he was asleep, we would put him in his own bed.
Now, to what I just overheard Nathan yelling at the top of his lungs from our bed:
Nathan--Dad! DAAAAD! Daaaa-aaaad!
Iiiiiiiiii'm
Asleeeeeep!
Daaaaad!
Clearly, he still wants to be put into his own bed. While he's awake.
Tonight we put Nathan in our room and he had a fit. He was miserably crying and saying he wanted to be in his own bed tonight. So Rob told him that once he was asleep, we would put him in his own bed.
Now, to what I just overheard Nathan yelling at the top of his lungs from our bed:
Nathan--Dad! DAAAAD! Daaaa-aaaad!
Iiiiiiiiii'm
Asleeeeeep!
Daaaaad!
Clearly, he still wants to be put into his own bed. While he's awake.
EXCUSE THIS HOUSE
Author: Unknown
"Some houses try to hide* the fact
That children shelter there;
Ours boasts of it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges on the doors;
I should apologize, I guess,
For toys strewn on the floor.
But I sat down with the children
And we played and laughed and read;
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.
For when at times I'm forced to choose
The one job or the other;
I'd like to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I'll be a mother."
The bad part is when I don't do the possible cleaning inferred in the above poem, but also don't really tend to the children, either....
*my sister, Kristy, doesn't try to hide her children's messes--she's actually planning on putting up a vinyl board sign in her house that says "No, this house is not under contstruction. Children live here." Ha ha ha ha!
"Some houses try to hide* the fact
That children shelter there;
Ours boasts of it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges on the doors;
I should apologize, I guess,
For toys strewn on the floor.
But I sat down with the children
And we played and laughed and read;
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.
For when at times I'm forced to choose
The one job or the other;
I'd like to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I'll be a mother."
The bad part is when I don't do the possible cleaning inferred in the above poem, but also don't really tend to the children, either....
*my sister, Kristy, doesn't try to hide her children's messes--she's actually planning on putting up a vinyl board sign in her house that says "No, this house is not under contstruction. Children live here." Ha ha ha ha!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Mushy-ness
I can't help it. It's thanksgiving. I am thankful for messy children and my messy house; it means we're living, engaged, plugged in. I can't say I'm thankful for all the fighting, but I'm thankful for the little moments that make me smile, chuckle, or roll my eyes.
Enter mushy-ness and cliches that I really mean:
Rob. What more can I say?
How did I get so lucky? There are not words to describe? He's my knight in shining armor? (See, I warned you about cliches) Don't think we don't fight. We do. A lot. Especially now that we've been married nearly 12 years, and boy do we get irritated with our spouse having the same annoying mannerisms they had 12 years ago that attracted us to them when we were dating.
But I often feel like Rob is one in a million. He treats me with dignity and respect. He doesn't put me down. He believes that sarcasm is destructive, and never uses against me vulnerable parts about myself.
When I spend the day crashing and watching online tv shows inbetween carpools, grocery runs, and telephone calls, and he comes home at 8 to find the kids have been grazing on apples, peanut butter, crackers, bagels, and carrots, he doesn't yell at me, or even passive-aggressively sigh,or make little comments out of the side of his mouth. He starts cleaning up their piles of messes, and then cooks a light dinner, maybe chicken salsa quesadillas and some frozen veggies warmed up. He keeps going even when he doesn't want to, even if I've given up for the time being.
He listens to me, he validates what is important, exciting, boring, or frustrating to me. He is FAR more selfless and pride-less than myself. In the bedroom he treats me like a queen, always taking the time to care more about me being happy, than himself.
He does most of our laundry. He does most of our dishes, and cleans out the litter box and remembers to feed the cats. He does the morning routines while I sleep (and I sleep HARD), and wakes me up when he's leaving for work. He does the weekend cooking. He always makes sure we have family prayer in the morning and at night. How much more romantic could he be?
And the computers, woohoo for Rob. He can troubleshoot just about anything, even if he would rather be doing something else (i.e. playing WoW). He comes and helps me figure things out that are beyond my understanding.
He won't let me beat myself for my sins and shortcomings, explaining that is Satan's plan, to discourage me into believing I'm a hopeless cause (even though it's hard not to believe that!). He won't let me compare myself, and has actually gotten it through my head that I can't compare my worst against someone else's best, which we gals ALL know we do. In fact, we compare our worst against the best parts of a dozen different people's strengths, creating this impossible, enviable amazing person to wish we were, that doesn't exist.
He defines success as being able to help his wife be happy. What more could a little cinderella wish for? He makes me want to be a better person. Here's hoping we make it to the celestial kingdom together, because he's a keeper! I love you, Rob.
and ps. Happy Birthday tomorrow, honey.
Enter mushy-ness and cliches that I really mean:
Rob. What more can I say?
How did I get so lucky? There are not words to describe? He's my knight in shining armor? (See, I warned you about cliches) Don't think we don't fight. We do. A lot. Especially now that we've been married nearly 12 years, and boy do we get irritated with our spouse having the same annoying mannerisms they had 12 years ago that attracted us to them when we were dating.
But I often feel like Rob is one in a million. He treats me with dignity and respect. He doesn't put me down. He believes that sarcasm is destructive, and never uses against me vulnerable parts about myself.
When I spend the day crashing and watching online tv shows inbetween carpools, grocery runs, and telephone calls, and he comes home at 8 to find the kids have been grazing on apples, peanut butter, crackers, bagels, and carrots, he doesn't yell at me, or even passive-aggressively sigh,or make little comments out of the side of his mouth. He starts cleaning up their piles of messes, and then cooks a light dinner, maybe chicken salsa quesadillas and some frozen veggies warmed up. He keeps going even when he doesn't want to, even if I've given up for the time being.
He listens to me, he validates what is important, exciting, boring, or frustrating to me. He is FAR more selfless and pride-less than myself. In the bedroom he treats me like a queen, always taking the time to care more about me being happy, than himself.
He does most of our laundry. He does most of our dishes, and cleans out the litter box and remembers to feed the cats. He does the morning routines while I sleep (and I sleep HARD), and wakes me up when he's leaving for work. He does the weekend cooking. He always makes sure we have family prayer in the morning and at night. How much more romantic could he be?
And the computers, woohoo for Rob. He can troubleshoot just about anything, even if he would rather be doing something else (i.e. playing WoW). He comes and helps me figure things out that are beyond my understanding.
He won't let me beat myself for my sins and shortcomings, explaining that is Satan's plan, to discourage me into believing I'm a hopeless cause (even though it's hard not to believe that!). He won't let me compare myself, and has actually gotten it through my head that I can't compare my worst against someone else's best, which we gals ALL know we do. In fact, we compare our worst against the best parts of a dozen different people's strengths, creating this impossible, enviable amazing person to wish we were, that doesn't exist.
He defines success as being able to help his wife be happy. What more could a little cinderella wish for? He makes me want to be a better person. Here's hoping we make it to the celestial kingdom together, because he's a keeper! I love you, Rob.
and ps. Happy Birthday tomorrow, honey.
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