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Curse you Blogger

I know, I should have saved it before messing with it, but now my sidebar stuff is stuck at the bottom. Not that you need it, but if you do, that's where it is.

How I made another mom's day

I realized last night that I would have some free time after I dropped off several kids at rehearsal, so I made plans to head to WM to pick up the last of the supplies for Halloween. Em ended up not going to rehearsal because her throat was hurting a little, which should have canceled the trip, but since we were running low on Motrin and we were out of lemonade, I decided I'd better head on anyway. The remaining 3 kids were excited, as always, about going to the store, though J was particularly hyper and tired, which should have canceled the trip, but I figured he'd chill out once we got out of the confinement of the car. I pulled into a perfect parking spot - in the middle, right next to a cart return - and started getting the kids out of the car. The older 2 were waiting next to the car (hands touching the door per the rules) while I started unfastening SPY from his seat. I was working on the second buckle when Em grabbed J's hat and put it on. He started to chase her into the parking lot and I grabbed both of them by the shoulders. J melted into the kind of tantrum that FINALLY canceled the trip. I announced that there was nothing I needed tonight badly enough to deal with this crap (I didn't use the word crap, probably) and we were going home. All 3 kids started begging and making promises they didn't intend to keep. Well, they probably intended to keep them, but it was obvious to the trained eye that there was no way in blue Hades that they could have actually lasted more than 2 minutes (about the point when we walk past the crane games in the front of the store) before they lost it again and worse. Tantrums in the parking lot are great fun, but nothing is better than a full-blown overtired tantrum during rush hour in the middle of the entrance to one of 2 grocery stores in a town where everybody knows your name. So, I chucked them in the car, fastened their seatbelts myself, got in the driver's seat and locked the doors. I sat there ignoring the wailing and pleading for a good 5 minutes until they settled down and I was sure they weren't going to jettison themselves from the van. By the time we pulled out of the parking lot, they were relatively calm again.
Except that there was something that I needed - the lemonade for Em's sore throat. So, as I drove through town debating the problem, McD's came into view. Woohoo, I was saved!! I could drive through and get lemonade without leaving the van!!
Now, obviously by this point I was delusional and not in my right mind. Just driving by a McD's without stopping would have generated more gnashing of teeth, but to actually get into the drivethrough line and wait to order something that was NOT a Happy Meal... Yep, it set J off into one of the most energetic, voluminous, imaginative tantrums he's ever thrown. Thrown is an appropriate description too. He wailed, he flung his body around in his booster seat, tears flowed. Out of habit, I rolled down the window as I came around the curve to the order speaker, but there was another minivan already there. I quickly rolled up the window, but we still heard her ordering her Happy Meals (2 boys and a girl). I could tell that she heard the commotion, because she paused and looked back for a second mid-order. She finished and pulled forward and I was forced to roll down the window to place my order for a single large lemonade. J hit the peak of his fit as I pulled forward when he realized I really wasn't ordering any Happy Meals. I met her glance in her side mirror and just smiled and she smiled knowingly back. Now, I've been the other mom before, so I know what she was thinking. Her kids probably got extra hugs last night thanks to J. J did too.

SPY is in his own kind of trouble today. SE decided to take his guitar to school with him today. It's been sitting in the living room on its stand for months. As he picked it up, it made a strange rattling noise. Not a little rattling noise. He emptied it out onto the floor.
The pile contained:
a pick
about 5 Q-tips
2 rocks - one small, one I'm not sure how SPY got it in past the strings
1 seashell
about 25 Cheerios
8 crayons (a whole pack)
a comb - the kind with the long tail
a sock
3 pencils
a 5x7 piece of notebook paper
2 animal crackers
and a proof of insurance card.
ETA after I finished picking junk up off the floor:
An Article of Faith pass along card
a scrap of orange construction paper
a used band-aid
and the tie end of a popped balloon.
I'm kind of surprised that it rattled at all when he shook it.

The Boy WILL grow to be a warrior

In phase 2 of SPY's manhood training, he has moved on from merely identifying the bodily function. Today, SPY took his first stab at the



Hmm. I have no idea where I was going with this. It was dated 8 months ago. I guess it's a fill-in-the-blank now.

This week

We will celebrate this day 13 years ago:By shopping for a new car to replace this:

I didn't even cry until today when he went to leave for work. I thought that I was going to be driving him to work, because of the painkillers and all, but he decided he could make it to work, take one there, and it would wear off by the time he was ready to go home.

ETA: I should probably have led with he's fine, but sore, and everyone else involved is fine.

Realized just now, while I was mopping the kitchen floor

I've often felt, I don't know, guilty or silly or lazy or lame that I didn't go to college right out of high school. I could have been DONE by the time I got married, but I let various things get in the way - moving in the middle of Junior year and no longer caring about school once we moved, boys, not caring enough to figure out the money, etc. But here's the thing about waiting until now to go to school - I know what I want to be when I grow up. I guess it's fairly likely that I would have figured it out and changed my major, but do you know what I probably would have majored in if we hadn't moved and I'd gone to college right away?

Technical Theatre.

And what would I have done with this degree? Probably the same thing I did with no degree - had kids and worked mostly part-time in various retail and clerical and childcare and healthcare type jobs.

The moral of the story is NOT don't go to college right out of high school. It's that sometimes things happen for a reason. I wouldn't say EVERYTHING happens for a reason and I'm pretty sure that hearing crap like that wouldn't have mattered a bit to my 16-year-old self who was pretty ticked that we moved in the middle of Junior year, but I think I'll let go of that not-going-to-college-sooner regret. It's not doing me any good anyway.

Hopefully if/when we decide to move (it's planned, but not decided, if that makes sense), my daughter, who is already pretty ticked about the idea and it's still 3 years off, will someday forgive us when she meets her soulmate/figures out it was the right thing to do/lives happily ever after. Of course, I really hope that she will be pleasantly surprised and delighted by our new home, but if not, then someday forgiving will have to do.

A dream from which I did not want to wake

I dreamed that we were living on a street like 1600 East in Spanish Fork (in Utah) with houses all in a row and sidewalks, which is the street I lived on during junior high and most of high school. My BFF from lived at the opposite end and across the street. In my dream, we lived about 2 houses in from the middle road (Utah grid system, would be about 550 South I guess - stalk it if you want, none of us live there anymore) and in the dream my BFF from high school lived in what would be the house next to her mom's and then her mom still lived in her house and her cousin lived across the street.

Some of the houses were the same or similar to the real street:















The house where her cousin lived looked literally just like this. I don't know the address of this house and it's been 20 years almost, but given the placement of the mountain behind, this could be the very house, or the next street over. I think. My house and my friend's house also looked just like this (except hers was floor-plan flipped) - for reals and in the dream. This one is for sale; I should buy it. I love these houses. Does that look like a 6 bedroom house? But it is.
Basements, I love them.



but some were a totally different style, kind of like my grandma's house:















This isn't my grandma's house, but it is probably 2 houses down the street from her house (also for sale and surprisingly in the same price range as the above house - um, surprising because this house is in Washington state, home of sky high real estate). I'm not buying this house. Love my grandparents, but they don't even want to live in this neighborhood anymore. Plus, this house does NOT have 6 bedrooms (it does have 4 - attic!!, but if it is really like my grandparents', then the bedrooms are tiny).

Anyway, I walked down to my friend's house that night to watch her kids for a bit while she went across the street to her cousin's house to see her new baby (a boy - it was her first). My friend's husband got home before she left and took over the kid duty and so I went over with her. Her mom was over there already. We helped clean up her kitchen while mom held the baby, then we all kind of crashed in the living room and I got to hold the baby while her cousin slept and I think my friend went home to take care of the kids and her mom stayed on the couch and we talked/dozed. I remember telling her cousin that she could call me any time, even in the middle of the night, to come help with the baby, etc. The baby was so cute and sweet.

So, this dream apparently manifests both my desires to live on a street with sidewalks (desperate desire) and to hold babies. My life is completely devoid of babies right now. I don't want my own (REALLY), but I would like to be near some. This is probably brought on by the birth of my niece almost a week ago and several friends posting new baby pictures this week.

Hey, if we did buy the house by grandma's, I could hold my niece at least. On the other hand, I hear there are babies here and there in Utah too.

(ETA: While I was editing this, the price of the first house dropped $19,000. I couldn't find it when I went back to look at it again.)