Clan of the Cave Hair

Apophenic Apptitude

2011-11-09T19:53:00.000-08:00

Do me a favor and visit Chime.in (so you can help me, and so you can have a new addiction...you can thank me later :) ) find my post "Apophenic Apptitude" and comment, like, and share away so Jp and I can realize a bucketlist item of handing out TEN hundred dollar bills at the airport this Thanksgiving.--:L

Apophenic Apptitude

What’s better than a palindrome? A numeric palindrome.
What’s luckier than 7? 11 of course!
What’s a giant bummer? The fact that if you add all the one’s in 11:11:11, 11/11/11 you get TWELVE. Unless of course, you subscribe to numerology, in which case even an apophenic maniac on the hunt for truth, justice and a great piece of art can turn the twin 1’s toil and trouble into perfect harmony, but not Royal Oil.

Because “Nothing is so alien to the human mind as the idea of randomness”(--John Cohen), I will don my most cosmopolitan of space suits and trek out into the vast vibrations of this planet, (or at least the city of Phoenix) in search of the truly random. When I find it, I shall place my One thousand, One Hundred and Eleven dollars and Eleven cents on the counter and ask “How may I obtain twelve of these?”

or

I will head to Phoenix Sky Harbor on November 24 with Eleven one hundred dollar bills to hand out to Uniformed Military, mothers with crying children, big brothers not picking on little sisters, and bikers holding the door for elderly couples. The other eleven dollars and eleven cents will buy one and a half Chai latte’s from the Starbucks at Terminal 4. If my kids are lucky, I’ll spring the extra for two hot chocolates.

Split pea soup

2011-08-04T09:44:00.000-07:00

An thoroughly fictitious imagination of the letter between the now famous Swedish DIY kitchen atom splitter, and the authorities:

"Dear Sirs,

Recently I have undertaken to split an atom at home. It is my theory that an atom can in fact be split using such every day appliances as a GE blender, Whirlpool stove, and a dollar store hotplate.

I am currently engaged in blogging my attempts, and have had one particularly popular post titled "melt down in the kitchen, no toddlers or housewives involved"...however, after melting half a dozen premium movie theater plastic cups and blowing the hell out of my favorite "#1 boss" ceramic mug, it ocurrs to me that there may be some safety issues involved in my undertaking. It is my greatest desire to accomplish this task without damage to self, home, or community, and further precautions are being put into place. ie: safety goggles and a lead apron are now worn on each occasion that the activity is pursued, clothing is no longer optional, and in fact is from here on out, prohibited in the kitchen area.

The reason for my correspondence today is to satisfy the question of the legality of my activities. Please advise.

Respectfully, the Naked Kitchen Atom Splitter

Love

2011-08-02T11:23:00.000-07:00

To the east, rising out of the earth like an ancient tribe of petrified nomads lies the Superstition Mountains. Jagged, yet beautiful, reddish in their hue, nearly deplete of vegetation, they give the appearance of being steadfast and immovable, totally unchanging. And yet, each crack, each line of strata, each thin-fingered skeleton of a peak that reaches for the sky tells a story of creation, sometimes subtle, sometimes dramatic, but always beautiful.

In the temperate winter months, the mountain maintains its image of dependability. The sun rises behind its massive rock formations, casts its long shadows against the crags in the late afternoon, and then proceeds to set in front of it. Allowing the glowing sun to illuminate its beauty in whichever position the sun finds itself is a particular talent possessed by the sheer cliffs and rocky terrain.

In the heat of summer, the Arizona desert finds in itself a fickle personality. "But its a dry heat" doesn't always apply in the month of July, as the monsoons breed towering thunderheads over every mountain in sight. The heat and the moisture create lightening, thunder, wind, and darkness; ominous looking clouds which threaten to dump massive amounts of rain at any given moment into any given ditch.

But more importantly they create shadow, and depth...even movement, on the otherwise immovable.

The mountain is always there, the next noticeable change to it likely only in the event of the catastrophic. And yet, the way the mountain looks...that changes by the day, hour, even minute, effected only by clouds, and sunshine.

Sometimes the clouds are dark and threatening, they stir up dust and block so much light that the mountain becomes difficult to see. Other times, the clouds are light, airy, almost "happy" as they take on the shape of a rubber ducky, or billy goat. The "happy" clouds specialize in playing up the mountains most inviting features.

Love is like the mountain, and life is like the weather.

Sometimes, just for a moment, love's landscape is changed by the atmospheric conditions of its home. It may appear darker, more dangerous, brighter, or safer than it really is...but however it may appear at the moment, love is always there, its always love, and its always inviting you to appreciate its beauty, in whatever amount of light, dark, or perfect combination of the two it may be enjoying today.

Love is Love. Let it be steadfast, immovable, dependable. Accept that some days may bring dark clouds, and the accompanying wind and rains. Expect that the sun will peak through, the wind will turn gentle, and that given a change in atmosphere, the mountain will yet again be revealed in all its beauty; perhaps appearing all the more beautiful for the casting of a momentary shadow.

Paleoliths

2011-07-20T20:34:00.001-07:00

The moon hung lazily just above the cliffs. The grazing donkey, oblivious to the moon's teasing swings to its backside, ventured nearer the ledge, delighting us with a scene so quintessentially southwest it had a slightly manipulated-for-our-pleasure feel.

The weather was hot, easily 103 or 4, maybe hotter, but we were barely aware of the day of week, let alone the numeric measure of our discomfort. Tracks in the sand told a story of four legged reptiles, migrating birds, and the occasional human visitor. A group had probably left the spot hours before. They had done their best to leave no trace, but still we could feel that this spot had quite recently offered up its soft sands to the weary bones of summer adventurers. Who were they? What were they like? Probably much like us, suburban nine-to-fivers looking for an escape from calendars and alarm clocks.

We ventured behind the camp, sifting sand through our sandals up a short path. Carefully picking our way through bramble and cactus, we climbed over a few deteriorating shelves of shale onto solid red rock. There we found a history of ourselves. Small handprints covering walls of a deteriorating household, layers of history imprinted in stone. The snakelike drawing we found repeatedly over dwellings looked significantly different from others. No menacing head, no rattling tail. What if it was an ancient house number? A locator? A way to communicate "you're here! This IS the third house on the right as soon as you round the bend in the river" to neighboring families? What of the rams? The guys riding horses? The circular figures-some surrounding people, some empty? What did they mean? Did they mean anything? Did an exasperated (or maybe it was inspired) mother hand her children a bowl full of leftover whitewash, and tell them "we're moving anyways, go have some fun, leave your prints all over that wall." Or were the small prints a family tree of sorts? Were the inscriptions "1874" "Jim was here" and "God Loves You" modern acts of vandalism, or additions to a story not yet finished?

The group could only interpret what was present before us in terms of our own imaginations. I began to wonder what would my home look like to adventurers 800 years from now? Would they find deep meaning in the shape of my couch? Would they presume a spiritual connection between the coils on the stove top and the strange sucking device I know as a range hood? What meaning would they find in my son's collection of Star Wars toys? Would the intricately designed toys be considered beautiful? Useful? Understood to be just what they are-favorite toys? Would they guess that I kept dozens of plastic grocery bags under my sink as an offering to some invisible god, or would they somehow ascertain the truth...its trash, but I feel guilty about even having them, let alone throwing them in a community dump where they will linger into infinity?

Brought back to the present by the scent of chicken pot pie in a dutch oven, I laughed a little. Secretly, I would be delighted if they thought the Millenium Falcon was a mysterious communication system, and my house number a rank.

The rag-tag group convened around the camp-kitchen...somehow still the heart of our home, so many days away from home, happy, satisfied, and joyfully debating the possible meaning of the guy that looked like an alien.

Pantscil Sharpener

2011-06-22T10:06:00.000-07:00

“Introduciiiiiiiiiing….the Pantscil sharpener!” he proclaimed loudly (and proudly). Arms triumphantly raised over his shaggy brown mop of hair and grinning that famously snaggled toothy grin only an eight year old can posess, he waved a fresh, never been sharpened “I ‘heart’ NY” pencil in the air. The pencil took on an air of “magic wand” as he prepared to demonstrate his first fully functioning invention. Admittedly, I had only half-heartedly looked his way when he came bounding down the stairway. Skipping the last two risers so that he could enjoy the loud “thump” of energy pounding into the floor after landing solidly on lower ground was such a part of daily life, it had no special meaning to my ears.

“Wait, what?”

“Introduciiiiiiing….the Pantscil Sharpener!”

“Mom, don’t you wanna see what a pantscil sharpener is?”

“I’m not entirely sure I do”

“Come on mom, its funny!”

Tears of laughter were beginning to collect in the corners of his eyes and he just couldn’t contain himself any longer. The Pantscil Sharpener must be demonstrated. Now!

“Ok, show me what a pantscil sharpener is”

“It’s a pencil sharpener in my pants!” he explained in his still high pitched voice.

I dared myself not to laugh, but failed miserably as I observed him swinging the pencil downward, towards his waistband where he had stashed an electric pencil sharpener exactly front and center.

The pencil activated the sharpener and the high pitched squealing of blades against new wood, paint, and graphite competed with the laughter in the living room.

“Dude, NOT appropriate!” I managed to spit out between hearty laughs.

By now the tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was jumping up and down like a happier version of Rumplestiltskin.

He composed himself long enough to remove the electric sharpener from its temporary home and place the newly sharpened pencil on the dining room table.

“Here you go sis, a brand new pencil from my greatest invention”.

She gladly picked it up to draw a rainbow and a unicorn.

“I love my mama”

“I love MY mama”

“I love you both”.

"Just to see what its like"

2011-06-15T14:44:00.000-07:00

Its no secret, I love The Onion. Every day the feed pops up on my facebook page and I giggle out loud at such inane observations as "Paleantology class winces whenever Fundamentalist kid raises hand" and "Rich first grader buys whole sheet of Gold Stars". The stories are pure ri-donk-diculous-ness, and that's what makes them great. One might think it would be hard to pick a favorite, but oh no. It is not. The story that forces itself into every part of my daily life, remains knitted into my memory of all things hilarious, even DEMANDS to be acknowledged each and every day is "Boise Homemaker Bows to Mecca, Just to See What its Like".

For some unknown reason, Cave Dude has chosen the "Call to Prayer" as his alarm tone. Every morning at 6:30 a very soft warbling call emits from that small hand held device we like to call "the slave driver". The tune is not unpleasant. In fact, it sure beats the loud death-to-the-human-race robotic beep/buzz alarm that he used to have. To describe the call to one who has never heard it is not within in my range of abilities. If I were to try and sing it, it would come off as an irreverent mocking. If I were to try to write it, it would come off as pure gobble-dee-guk. But what really wakes me up is the powerful urge it provokes in me to be that Boise woman and find a colorful rug to kneel on, just for a moment, while facing east.

In my head, that Boise woman looks alot like me. I have the scenario all worked out. The mother of two has been a lifelong member of a Christian church of one sort or another. She's worked hard, had some disappointments, has a great , but not well known sense of humor, and a secret desire to be rebellious... in the safest way possible. She's 40 lbs overweight, has a home that's reasonably well kept, but no showplace. Her kids are classic kids. She doesn't know what to do with her boy, and her husband tries his best to be boring, because he thinks that's what everybody wants from him.
She has two of those old fashioned braided rag rugs somewhere in her basement. She found the kids playing "Magic Carpet Ride" last winter and has been toying with the idea of using it as a prayer rug ever since. She kept her thoughts a secret, absolutely sure that admitting to wanting to try out bowing to Mecca would get her an appointment with the local clergy immediately and a whole crap-load of hail-Mary's. The day she tried it, her husband came home for lunch unannounced and caught her bowing in front of the kitchen sink. Thinking quickly, she explained that she was just "doing some detailed scrubbing" on the floor and quickly got up to fix him a turkey and mayo sandwich, on plain white bread, no mustard. Never suspecting she had been caught in the act of bowing to Mecca, he simply shrugged and asked "what's for lunch?"

Is it blasphemous? Maybe. But it makes me laugh every morning, and if laughter is the best medicine, then what better time to get my daily dose than first thing in the morning? Maybe tomorrow morning will be the day I try it out, "Just to see what its like." Maybe Cave Dude will join me...at least in the giggle.

Forward Marching

2011-06-09T16:32:00.000-07:00

Its only fair to follow up after throwing out various diagnostic suggestions to the blogosphere. Professionals and opinions and doctors and technologists, and what feels like a lifetime of appointments kept in a 1 month period of time have left us with all kinds of "potential" diagnoses. And again the question pops, why do we need everything to be labeled?

Well, because a label for cave-dude means qualifying for additional schooling, and other important services and resources for our family.

And a label for cave-dude jr. means moving forward without a label. Confusing, right? Let me explain. I think I've got the right people for our family working on all the right things. As I had written before, the school had suggested that cave dude jr's behavior was far outside of normal. They were able to recognize that he is not malicious, or destructive, and is actually a pretty awesome kid, who has a deep need to be a big squiggle in the teacher's day. So we've pursued getting a "label" for this behavior, because the school requested it. Without a label, he's headed down a disappointing road of school suspensions and dropping grades. But here's the GREAT news. Apsergers....nope. He's too physically attached to his family for that to even be looked at as a root cause. I'm good with that. Hyperkinetic....heck yes, just about scored 100% on that one. Hyperkinetic is the old word for a label we all know and hate. ADHD. UGH. But here's the scoop on ADHD, with treatment, the school doesn't even need to know that he's been diagnosed. So long as the treatment is successful, no label necessary! So, we're getting a label, to avoid a label. The idea behind this is that with the proper medication, his ability to modify his own behavior (because the medication speeds up the neurotransmission between the parts of the brain that say "Squirrel!" and send you running, and the part that says "Its just a squirrel, no need to check it out, you already know what a squirrel does.") will be so much improved, that he shouldn't need any modifications in what the school, or his parents, or anybody else should expect of him. I also love this doc's opinion that medications are to be consistent, not used "recreationally" to get through certain events. In other words, the ADHD is a 24/7 issue, learning is a 24/7 behavior, and medications should match the 24/7 climate. This also helps in laying the foundation that drugs are not used to get through events. Drugs are used to treat important medically related situations. In other words, we lower the risk of recreational drug use in the future by not allowing the ADHD meds to be used recreationally where the child learns what it feels like to be "up" or "down" because the dose will be constant. 12 months ago, I would absolutely not have been open to medication for this. But after seeing the excellent improvements for cave dude sr. after starting meds to assist in coping with PTSD and knowing how much better he feels because of them, I feel open to giving it a try. Here's hoping for a future that includes an 8 year old who acts more like an 8 year old, and less like a toddler who's exploring the world for the first time every time we go out into public. This could be a good thing.

The summer of what

2011-06-01T05:18:00.001-07:00

I clearly remember a conversation wiith Cave Dude on Jan. 1, that I had a great feeling about 2011. I knew it would be the year we finally learned how to function a little less like neanderthals, and put our family first.
We've done REALLY well so far. Thus far, the hardest part of putting your family first is learning to say "no" to the things that don't add any value to your family life. Not everybody understands, and many want to argue that by not saying "yes", you are somehow not being a good example for your family. I couldn't disagree more. Setting boundaries, and showing your spouse and children that they genuinely come first honors and enhances life like no other experiment we've tried. These experiments in family-first living are taking us in interesting directions. Our hearts and minds have been opened to new possibilities and opportunities. Our eyes have been opened to ideas and philosophies that support and enhance our religious ideologies while providing us additional tools for health and Happiness. We're in a good place.
But this good place is also a transitional place, and we're not quite sure where we go next, because we've never traveled this road before. It feels alot like arriving in a foreign country with no language skills, Perhaps a kind stranger gave us a map, but we don't know how to pinpoint exactly where we are at, and don't know enough about the country to know where we want to go. So we embrace our new life as an adventure. Which is a little ironic, really. I crave adventure, but we have lived so much of the last 8 years protecting our hearts from the reality of hurt, by engaging in being valuable to everybody but ourselves, we lost our adventurous spirits. And as we've opened up and owned the responsibility for our own happiness, opportunities for relaxation, fun, and adventure have come pouring out of the woodwork.
And so we come to the summer of "what?" As in "what? I really get to go.to New York?" And "what? I really get to attend a meditation retreat?" And "what? Really? Six days floating down the San Juan?" But also, what do we do next? What is it we really want the answer to be? What is it that we can improve on? What are the tools we are still missing? And what does our future look like?
We have the answers to some of these questions, and we are still seeking the answer to others. But I do know that we are at least in part becoming successful in our creating of happiness because of the many good examples of friendship, and especially family that we are privileged to have in our lives. We love you all.

Wounded Warrior Project Alumni Summit

2011-05-23T12:16:00.000-07:00

How awesome is it that I can blog from the passenger seat in the car? I can remember talking about how cool it would be to have hand held computers someday in some years past, and look at this! I call it a phone, but its a computer. I don't remember how long ago it was that a
handheld computer seemed impossible. But I do know that technology isn't the only thing that has changed since that time. Our world has changed, our communities have changed, our families have changed. Even we as individuals have evolved. Our values, beliefs, friendships, activities; nothing is really the same. There is beauty in that. We each have been shaped by our experiences, whatever they may be.
This weekend Cave Dude and I were invited by Wounded Warrior Project to participate in the West Coast Alumni Summit. What a wonderful opportunity to learn about the programs WWP has to offer, why they offer them, and who potentially qualifies for the various programs. We were encouraged to participate, spread the word, and be an active part in this community of military service members. Who makes up the community? Former and current service members who have experienced an illness or injury as a result of military service post 9/11, and their caregivers.
It was wonderful to find peers within this community of people who have acknowledged that they don't want to be defined in a negative way by their experiences as a warrior or caregiver. The WWP brought with them fun, information exchange and networking, and healing opportunities. The warriors and caregivers brought with them a willingness to be a part of something bigger than themselves.
My favorite part of the weekend was meeting as a group of careg with Lisa of HarvestingHappiness.org for a wonderful presentation about finding happiness within the circumstances that we find ourselves, realizing our intention for happiness, and understanding that happiness is not one-size-fits-all! I could have done a full two-day seminar with Lisa...she exuded kindness and respect for humanity. I loved her statement/advice:"if its kind and its legal, go for it". Lisa is also the founder of HH4Heroes.org which is the Harvesting Happiness curriculum, with emphasis on helping those suffering the emotional wounds of war find their happy identity once again.
During the session Lisa mentioned allowing our problems to wash over us like waves. I loved that visualization. Not only am I a born and bred lover of the ocean, but we were just steps from the ocean during our stay, and the metaphor struck a chord in me. Here's why; Not long ago I shared with CaveDude the advice I had received as a kid learning to surf: if you get caught in the impact zone, if you're being tossed around like a rag in a washing machine, cover your head, relax, and let the water bring you to the surface. As I have found myself contemplating the idea of considering problems as waves I realize that waves are the perfect analogy. They are real, they are abundant, they can be powerful. The wave's act of washing over a beach changes the beach. Sometimes the changes are subtle, barely noticeable to the naked eye, other times the entire landscape is changed permanently by the destructive forces of a storm or tsunami wave. But the inherent truth about waves, is that no matter how powerful, no matter how destructive, no matter the size, shape, or path of the wave, the wave never has the power to convince a rock to quit being a rock, or sand to stop being sand, but it does have the power to create something more beautiful out of the rock and sand as the elements clash together in the tumbling action of the sea. There's something in that thought for my soul, and my soul is strengthened by the thought. I am grateful for having had the opportunity to listen to Lisa's perspective on harvesting my happiness, and I see that my seeds are beginning to sprout as I take comfort in knowing that happiness can be my very own version of joy.

Walking down the road of discovery with Wounded Warrior Project and the other Alumni opened my eyes to more possibility than I had imagined existed. This is an organization who has truly made every effort to look at the needs of a service member turned civilian in the context of our post 9-11 world from a 360 degree view. As a designated caregiver, a title I have struggled with, I could recognize that not only do they want to treat the warrior as a whole person (mind, body, spirit) but that they also make every effort to heal the family of the warrior as well. At the Wounded Warrior Project, West Coast Alumni Summit, I could see that they take their mission very seriously, which is to say, they also know how to have fun, big time.
For our Minds we were treated to a talk and meet and greet with medal of honor recipient Tibor "Teddy" Rubin who told humorous stories about his survival as a teenager in Nazi concentration camps in his native Hungary and again as a private in the US ARMY in Korea. That's right HUMOROUS stories, about being a prisoner of war. For our bodies, we enjoyed hour long massages and a eucalyptus steam bath (remind me next time to wear my swim suit so I can really enjoy that steam!) I dare say, for our bodies we also enjoyed the best bed I have ever slept in, everybody was raving about the awesome beds at L'auberge Del Mar. For our spirits we were treated to team building exercises (you know the one's you never want to do, but are always glad you did later in the day when you realize you have a new friend, and you might not have met that person without the stupid games you had to play together?) and of course our spirits were also fed with fun and good food. The ocean at our back door didn't hurt either ;)

For more information about the Wounded Warrior Project, their programs, who qualifies to receive services, or to donate, visit http://woundedwarriorproject.org. For more info on Harvesting Happiness or HH4Heroes visit http://hh4heroes.org or http://harvestinghappiness.org.

And we get to watch a movie about PUBERTY!

2011-05-13T09:34:00.001-07:00

Or...roadtripping with boys.
Or...conversations I will let you finish with your own parents.
Or...how to derail a perfectly nice conversation in .28 seconds
Or...when three boys chanting "fart, fart, fart" is actually more enjoyable than what was happening just moments ago
Or...how tweenage boys can make a young lady blush
Or...
Or...
Or...
Anything but this topic on a road trip, please?

Diagnosis: hypocrite

2011-05-06T16:18:00.001-07:00

Not too long ago I wrote about how wonderfuly empowering asking for and receiving mental health care has been for the adult cave-people in this clan. I like to think I am relatively good at followingy own advice. When a need exists, it is strength, not weakness that permits one to cross the threshold into the professional's office and sit down in the big comfy chair.
But I find myself conflicted as I turn over again and again in my mind the suggestion that there is something wrong with my son that is greater than just not trying hard enough, or as simple as being emotionally immature.
I have counseled with teachers, administrators, friends, and friends with personal experience. It seems the general consensus is Cave dude jr could use some professional help and it should start with somebody who can diagnose Asperger's syndrome. Its hard to hear. Its even harder because the suggestions have been made in such a loving and concerned way. It makes it impossible to be angry or in denial when people act genuinely concerned that a child gets every resource he needs to be successful and that they just need him to be diagnosed so they can give him more.
But the part of me that is insecure and feels the need to interpret every challenge as first : proof that I'm not trying hard enough, and second: an opportunity to try harder, wonders if we just aren't effective enough in our parenting? What of all he needs is _________? What if seeking a diagnosis really is just seeking to absolve a couple of cave people of their neanderthal parenting style? What if he gets diagnosed and now suddenly he's allowed to get away with murder at school, and poor grades from a previously above average academic student are now acceptable because he's. " special".
It all stresses me out. Friends in the know have advised to proceed with caution, other friends have said what can it hurt? At least you'll ha e a better frame ofreference for his " normal". Other friends have supported the "try harder" theory.
Even as I write this, I know the right answer is to consult with professionals. But part of me is scared. What if being labeled steals his dreams for his adult life? How do I answer that? What if not being labeled and therefore not receiving additional learning and social resources steal his dreams? What if, what if, what if?
In the meantime, this wonderful little saber-toothed cub is home from school for two days while we try to discipline him in a way that makes a difference and curbs future outbursts, a task that has previously proven itself difficult at best. And what do I want? First to pike up this headache that is ravaging my brain and bowels, and second to talk with my counselor, stat.

Cute recycled craft gift boxes for Mother's day

2011-05-05T19:11:00.001-07:00

These cute recycled gift boxes for Mother's day couldn't be easier, or more fun to make!
Truth be known, these lean more towards the repurposing or reusing side of the whole "reduce, reuse, recycle" trifecta of greenery (what!? What other word do you suggest I use as a verb to describe the act of being "green"?) I have always loved little boxes. I have a very difficult time convincing myself that cute little boxes do not need to be kept. So when I purchased some small wheels of brie a couple of months back I knew I would be repurposing the cute little round boxes that contained that delicious buttery cheese. (By the way...brie baked with a little ChefTess' onion and balsamic jam is to DIE for...)
Happy Mother'S day! My mother and Cave dude Sr.'s mother will each be receiving one of these cute boxes filled with something wonderful. (Mom, if you read this...I'll hand deliver two weeks late! )
If you want to try your hand at recycling or repurposing a cute little crafted box for yourself or your mother, here is what you'll need :
-box of any size or shape in good condition
-mod podge™
-foam brush
-colored or patterned paper of multiple types
- sharp scissors
- hole punch for dots
Opptional- permanent markers, glitter, sequins, rhinestones, etc.
Start by choosing the first surface to work on an coat it thinly in mod podge™ then cover box in preferred base paper (try picking a patterned paper for extra interest!)
Be creative as you add layers and shapes and textures for your own unique results.
Enjoy!
-Cave Mom

Twentyfirst century digital boy

2011-05-04T08:46:00.001-07:00

Twentyfirst century digital boy or "When cave dudes go techno".
As cave moms go, I like to consider myself not exactly a tech-head, but certainly willing to adapt to new technology. But the recent acquisition of a smart phone has, well...kicked my techno butt.
When I say my 8 year old has picked up the device and quite intuitively operated it, I don't pretend that we are somehow unique, jokes about kids setting vcr's for grandpa have made the rounds for decades. Its normal and right. Kids have adapted to technology faster than adults, probably since the invention of the phonograph (heavens what would they think of ipods?).
However, even a mom like me who knows none of this is unusual, can still be momentarily taken by surprise by an unexpected tech-y moment, like when jr. Cave dude asked for his allowance to be loaded onto a prepaid debit card. A what?! A prepaid debit card...so he can make purchases online, because " there's better stuff online and sometimes its cheaper too."
While I appreciate the argument,I wonder how that practice would translate into developing a real sense of the value of one's earnings? I am absolutely positive that it is possible for him to learn the lesson in a way that is different from the way his parents, grandparents, and even great grandparents learned the value of their earnings. The problem lies with the teachers. As adults we have easily adapted to the evil that is money you never get to see. Our parents and grandparents warned us that ATMs weren't a good idea, that having such easy access to one's money could only spell disaster. But what did we do with those lessons? We gave them an "awe mom stop being so old fashioned" followed by a quick 4 digit pin and twenty bucks shooting out a magic door. We walked contentedly away from the magic money machine and set ourselves on course to become perhaps the worst generation of money managers since...ever?
As parents, even cave dwellers want something better for our babies than what we have had. And so for now, lacking any other strategy in our arsenal of money management skills,allowance will be paid in good old fashioned green stuff...even to that twentyfirst century digital boy who thinks a debit card is a perfectly appropriate allowance handling system for an eight year old.

Kung-Fu zen wierd

2011-05-02T20:41:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure when your husband says "I don't want to scare you, but I kinda want to get weird, like kung-fu-zen weird" you should expect change on the horizon. What will that change be? Who even knows. But I have to admit, if kung-fu-zen weird is the direction we're headed, I can deal with that. It sure beats tattooed freak biker wierd. At least we can assume that kung-fu-zen weird is a peaceful existence, I can be down with that.

Button button who's got the button?

2011-04-29T13:34:00.000-07:00

Hi all my blogging friends.

While I haven't been actively blogging over the past several months, I am still going to ask each of you who finds this post to do me a favor.

Please visit Gingham Project by clicking on the cute little elephant in my upper right hand corner, read about their mission, and add their button to your blog (You'll need to contact them through their contact form and send them your html code! Othewise how will they know you are helping?). Your button or link will be added to theirs in return. Even if you only have a small readership, we never know which friend of a friend of a friend will be the one to feel the call to action.

THANK YOU for doing this for me. This is my sister's project and people are coming out of the woodwork to help, but there is plenty more to do. Follow Gingham Project on Facebook or subscribe to the SMS feed to recieve all their exciting announcements including some you will not want to miss!

You're not standing up for something, you're QUITTING!

2011-03-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

Another "found" post sitting in my drafts box. I am curious as to whom I was addressing these thoughts? I don't honestly remember. But I stand by them!
When somebody offends you, clearly the best way to deal with the offense is to quit, right? I mean, hey! Instead of doing your best to be everything you know you are and them some, instead of showing the person who offended you that you are stronger than their opinion, instead of embracing the opportunity that always follows opposition, why don't you just quit! That will sure show everybody what a strong person you are! (or not.)

There's something to be said about standing up for something, and letting a person or group of people know that they have wronged you in some way. There's something to be said for quietly going about disproving a person's idea of you. There's something to be said for negotiating a stormy situation with grace and dignity and a resolve to fix the problem. Heck, there's something to be said for a screaming match if it results in necessary change from one or both parties.

There's nothing to be said for being a quitter. That's not strength.

All that said, there's no reason to subject one's self to repeated abuses. Walking away from abuse is in fact standing up for yourself. DO NOT misread the above to mean that going back for abuse again and again is ok, its not. Some people would rather continue building their house on a foundation of sand than step back, bull-doze the shoddy work, and start again on a foundation of rock. Its easy to get all mad that somebody saw your sandy foundation you tried to cover up and go all passive-aggressive on their butts and really show them by walking away entirely with no return on investment.

Grounding the Helicopter

2011-03-18T18:47:00.000-07:00

Helicopter parenting, the business of flitting too and fro everywhere the wee one's go, having an ever watchful eye, never letting the children out of our site. We've all seen it - most of us are guilty of it. Controversy has even found it (remember the woman who gave her kids some money, dropped him off at the subway and said "meet you at home"?). Helicopter parenting is easy to fully justify, all one has to do is read the news and instant fear for our children's safety settles its hooks deep within.

Sometimes we helicopter because of the age of our children, or their developmental status. Sometimes we helicopter because we don't like our neighbors, or there has been a scary news story. Sometimes we helicopter because we simply forgot we had a choice! But mostly we hover because we are afraid of something. Perhaps we are afraid of the unknown, or afraid of what will happen too our children in our absence. We might be afraid of what our children will do in our absence, or even fear that another hovering mother-craft will catch us taking a break and wonder what's wrong with us! (because if we truly loved our children, we would be right there with them, protecting them from every single possible opportunity to experience disappointment, a minor injury, interacting with the neighborhood "mean kid", or getting stung by a bee, right? I hover, therefore I love.)

My son is about to turn 8 years old. This week I grounded the helicopter and allowed him and his 5 year old sister to go out and play with neighborhood kids without adult supervision for the very first time. Grounding this bird is one of the hardest, but most necessary things I've ever done!

I feel like I want to explain the "why"s of my previous hovering, but I'm afraid I'll rev up the engine and have this bird in the air again in no time flat if I think too hard on the why's. The why's are most likely the same as yours. They seem to be mostly universal among the hovering-types.

We haven't thrown all caution to the wind. There are rules. I prefer if the kids play in groups of 4 or more. I like the idea of safety in numbers, and if a split is ever necessary to get an adult's help, no child will be left alone, but 3 or more is mostly ok (depending on the age of the oldest in the group). We don't play in the creek (its dry, but a potential home for rattle snakes, scorpions, and the random hobo.) We don't go inside anybody's home without permission from both sets of parents, and we stay inside the neighborhood, never exiting to the main streets for any reason.

I've discovered that I need to keep my garage door shut if I don't want my food storage rummaged through, that there are still Eddie Haskel's in every neighborhood, and that boys still like to race bikes, and bikes still go "even faster if you peddle all the way down the hill". Girls still want to have sleep overs with every new friend (uh, NO!) and are quick to play the victim if they set up a scenario where the boy does exactly what they set him up to do, but they didn't like the results. There's always a kid that's too little, a kid that's too big, a kid who's bike is broken, and a kid who's hungry. But best of all, there's always a smile, a laugh, a cheer and a shout when a boy crosses the finish line in precisely .2 seconds less time than the last.

Landing this hover-ific helicopter of a parent has been fabulous. I haven't heard "mom, I'm bored" all afternoon, two days in a row. I'll be keeping the copter in good repair. I will fly on the occasional reconnaissance mission just to see what the locals look like, who they're talking too, what they're talking about, etc. But I think its time to expect the best. Every adult deserves to have a treasure trove of memories to share at every family gathering that starts with "Remember when?" and ends with "You just can't let your kids do that anymore."

Triquetra/Trinity Knot

2011-03-17T11:00:00.000-07:00

In lieu of the wearing o' the green, I'm wearing one of these today. Actually, I've been wearing it every day since I received it as a gift from my mother who recently visited Dublin with my sister. I love this beautiful knot and its modern Celtic Christian use to represent the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Ghost) and to evoke thoughts of eternal perspective.

The package this charm arrived in had a short note enclosed explaining each item and where it was purchased and for whom, I got a kick out of the note because it reminded me of the notes my grandma Molly would include with her gifts to us throughout our childhood. I knew that my gift was a Trinity Knot charm, but I didn't know what a trinity knot is. Well....what an odd feeling to examine this lovely little charm and realize that its pattern is one that I have found myself mindlessly tracing with my fingers or my eyes (does anybody else do that? find a spot on the wall or ceiling and "trace" a pattern with your eyes? Or am I the only weirdo?) since childhood.

If we are having a conversation, and you notice that I am rubbing my thumbnail with my forefinger, it is more likely than not that this is the pattern I am tracing. If I am staring at a ceiling fan, seemingly lost in thought, it is more likely than not that I am tracing this pattern in my mind.

I find this odd. Perhaps just a tad bit haunting. Not haunting in a scary way, more like a "insert 'Twilight Zone' theme song here" kind of way.

I don't technically believe in reincarnation, but I have questions about some of the things in life that feel "old" to me the first time I experience them. This is one of those things I guess. Although I can't find in my family records the Irish connection, I am told that there is one (and I'm frankly too lazy to search through it, the programs currently available are confusing and difficult, and I have no patience for them.) and I wonder, is there a "Biological memory" or some other unexplainable soul-source for this funny habit? I don't know, but I sure find it a strange coincidence. Whatever the source of this strange habit of mine ( o' mine?) I am very fond of this lovely little charm and the soulful connection I feel.

Happy Birthday

2011-03-15T12:25:00.000-07:00

It's JP's birthday today, he laughed at me when I told him "Thank you for being born". But truly, I'm thankful he was born. He's brought joy to my life in the form of love, affection, understanding, hard work, discipline, honesty, integrity, honor, and duty. He's not perfect, but he's perfect for me. I love him, and I'm glad he was born, whether he thinks that's a funny thing to say or not.

When Cave Hair interrupts the thought process

2011-03-10T14:48:00.000-08:00

Found this in my "Drafts" box, leftover from last summer and never published. Enjoy

Here's a snippet from the road to church this morning.

JP: You like nice

Me: Thanks, but I feel like a troll. I know in my head I don't look like a troll, but I feel like one today

JP: I like dungeons and dragons and hobbits and Lord of the Ring's creatures and stuff.

I posted an abbreviated version on facebook for all to enjoy, and a friend asked what feeling trollish is all about. I gave her all kinds of examples, most specifically a headache that makes you feel like going all Grendle on the next person or goat to cross your bridge, but ultimately, I think I realized the problem was the Cave Hair. Yes, the Cave Hair.

It was too hot and sticky (yeah, I know, I live in AZ, where "its a DRY heat"...well, not in monsoon weather) to blow dry my hair last night and I paid for it, or maybe my kids paid for it, this morning when I woke up with Cave Hair Extreme and the headache to match. Why does messy hair make me feel so grumpy? But I know Little Lily Cave Hair has already achieved full grumpitude by hair-style at the age of 4, so I think we're born with it.

A friend recently took a poll: Hair conditioner- luxury or necessity.

NECESSITY! Have you seen this clan WITH conditioner? Without would be criminal.

But sometimes other people's crazy cave hair puts me in judgement mode too. I admit it.

Recently I was approached by a woman who had a nice blouse, nice necklace, nice makeup, and cave-hair. As soon as she opened her mouth I didn't like her. But then again, maybe it wasn't her hair at all. Maybe it was her statement that I was wasting my time as a volunteer and should seek paid work. Which was ironic, since she runs an organization that couldn't run without volunteers, and her child was directly benefiting from my volunteer work.

the Gingham Project - happy, helpful, hopeful

2011-03-04T14:13:00.000-08:00

Over the past couple of years, I've been inspired by the stories of everyday people who discover a group of people they care deeply for and then set out to serve that group of people in ways that they are currently underserved.

I'm inspired by people who use their talents and imaginations to make things work. Serving our fellow humans doesn't require wealth, retirement, or even a single thing that only some people have. Service only requires the desire for a change, and action to make the change.

My sister Melanie Smith of Melanie Smith Photography and Smith Family Photography is one of the everyday people who inspire me.

Last year she was invited to photograph a wedding in India. She was excited for the opportunity to travel and photograph a wedding in an exotic locale. What she wasn't prepared for was to fall in love herself. Traveling across India to the many different locations of the many wedding related events and ceremonies, she found herself in Tamil, Nadu, India where she fell in love with the happiest, most hopeful, and helpful yet impoverished children she's ever met. Having a mother's heart, she knew she would do something to improve the lives of these children, many of whom are either orphans, or have been made wards of the state because the parent's can not support them.

They attend school, they work diligently at learning, they desire 21st century skills. They are hopeful. Did I already say that? I repeat it because its important to know these are not children rubbing mud on their faces and tearing their clothing into rags in order to look desperate while they beg. These are children who smile brightly, take good care of their school uniforms, report to orderly if completely underfunded schools, and embrace learning with their whole hearts.

Enter the Gingham Projectg.

The Gingham Project. Happy, Helpful, Hopeful. a project of Melanie Smith Photography and Smith Family Photography exists to improve the learning conditions of the children of Tamil, Nadu, India. There exists a rich and complicated history in Tamil, Nadu, India and one side effect of that complicated history is that many of the children there do not have the same opportunities as children of similar economic circumstances in other places in India. They do however embody as a whole the happy, helpful, and hopeful principals that the Gingham Project operates on.

As of now, the Gingham Project does not have an official website, but its not too early to help Melanie, Melanie Smith Photography, and Smith Family Photography meet their goals for The Gingham Project and improving the lives of these happy, helpful, and hopeful children in Tamil, Nadu, India.

Proceeds from the books below, available for purchase through Blurb.com directly support the school children who so very much desire to leave a tradition of poverty behind them and develop 21st century skills in their homeland. Please take a look at each book, (full previews available! just click on the images below and flip!) decide which format is best for you or the person you will make a gift too and place your order. Your order will be filled by Blurb.com and delivered directly to your home via the selected shipping service.

Need a vacation? Love exotic images? Have a deep and undying love for history? Like happy, healthy kids?
these books, available for purchase at Blurb.com will not only make you feel like you're on vacation in one of the world's most beautiful and historic places, but will also give you the privilege of saying "I did something important".

Click on the images to see the pages of these beautiful books and then add one or more to your shopping cart. These would make wonderful mother's day gifts!

All photography by Melanie Smith, and the Smith Family benefits The Gingham Project. We started this program after experiencing the happiness, helpfulness and kindness of children living in rural India. Together with our friends in India, we are working towards a future full of opportunity for the children livining in impovershed villages in Tamil Nadu, India.

7 habits of happy families - creating a family mission statement

2011-03-04T06:00:00.000-08:00

Creating a family mission statement is a process. It can't be done in one family night, or quite possibly even three. It requires contemplation on things we may not be accustomed to thinking deeply on as a family unit. And its my opinion that it requires some personal introspection on the part of the parental units. (See "Your Sunday school answers aren't working for me"...the result of a moment of personal introspection spurred by the family mission statement activity.
As I've mentioned before, our family is participating in a 7 Habits of Highly Effective Families class offered at our son's school, and the experience is just exactly what we want and need in our lives right now. Its a wonderful blessing to interact in this way with other families and school administrators/teachers. The information they are sharing with us is so full of positive expectations that we can't help but feel empowered and energized by what we learn.

I may have already mentioned that the last two weeks we've been giving consideration to developing a family mission statement. I'm in love with this idea! Its not a new idea, its been around a LONG time. But now is the right time for our family to do this and live by it.

The first step has been to brainstorm AS A FAMILY (because otherwise it would be mom and dad's mission statement right? Not that there's anything wrong with mom and dad having mission statements, but then it needs to be called what it is and not represented as a FAMILY mission statement.)

We have been brainstorming on 4 different topics:
What does a happy family look like?
What do we want people to say about our family in 50 years?
What do we believe?
How do we treat each other?

I think some families participating in our class have had a difficult time answering the "How do we treat each other" question because there is a difference between how they DO treat each other, and how they know they SHOULD treat each other. Speaking as someone who has worked/is working very hard to eliminate that discrepancy in her home, I can say that I understand the difficulty in answering that question. So should you find yourself reading this post because you're thinking of writing a family mission statement, let it be known that in my opinion, the appropriate way to answer this question is how do you HOPE to be treated within the walls of your home and what are you willing to COMMIT too in terms of how you will treat your family members.

There are no "right" answers to these questions. That was something I initially struggled with. In fact, that is what prompted the "Your Sunday school answers aren't working for me" post. I started off feeling that there were "right" answers, or at least "better" answers. I assumed that these answers were the classic Sunday school answers. That's not necessary. If those are the answers that sit genuinely in your heart, go with them. But if they don't, this is not a sign of being fundamentally broken. It just means that your path will be different from what your Sunday school teacher's path will be. And that's good. No two paths should be exactly alike! I am absolutely positive that the 12 men Jesus chose for his disciples each had unique talents they brought to the fold, and I am convinced that we are at our most effective in this life when we have recognized and embraced our talents and strengths, even those that might look to be weaknesses at first glance.

As our family has brainstormed, these are some of the things we have come up with so far:

"What does a happy family look like?"--

Learning, exploring, trying new things, cooperation, hard work, respect, love, charity, service, being a family forever, technology, reading, fun-loving, smiling, playing together happily, taking turns, knowing how to handle disappointment, patience, doing our best, never giving up.

"what do we want people to say about our family in 50 years?"

They were GOOD LOOKING! (or at least had a great sense of humor)

Talented, hard working, smart, genuine, trustworthy, honorable, happy, charitable, helpful, friendly, adventurous. They loved each other, they never gave up. (yes, you do recognize a theme there.)

"What do we believe?"

We believe in God, that we have a purpose as a family, and as individuals. Our family can be eternal. the golden rule, we each are unique. We can discover things about ourselves, each other, and our world when we try new things. There is a time to be a leader, and a time to be a follower. Its important to know the difference. Its important to stand firm in our beliefs. Learning should be a lifelong endeavor. Its important to have fun together and enjoy each other's company.

"How do we treat each other?"

with kindness, respect, patience. We hope for the best out of each other.

Over the next week or couple of weeks we'll be doing some more brainstorming and ultimately developing our family mission statement from these ideas. Its coming slowly, and very much in spurts. We have found that the kids have only about a 5-10 minute attention span for this. I'm sure its because this is still a very large concept to them, but they do participate, and they've offered up some great ideas during our brainstorming.

If you find yourself working towards a family mission statement, or already have one, share away! I'd love to see examples of what other families have come up.

FIVE

2011-03-03T13:49:00.000-08:00

This thing (Sometimes referred to as Thing 2, although she's really Thing 4) is FIVE. FIVE!!!!

Having gone through the 18 mos to 5 years stage four times now, there have definitely been times that I looked forward to no longer being the primary caretaker of young children. I find those years difficult. Terrific Twos and Fabulous Fours, and well, don't even get me started on three year olds. They are wonderful, they are funny, they are a complete and total mystery to me. I really start feeling more confident as a parent at the magical age of 5.

And yet...

There is something very bitter sweet about the passing of this era. I found myself feeling just a tad melancholy yesterday when I realized it was the last day ever that I would be the parent of a four year old.

Four year olds are witty. Especially this one. The non-stop string of one-liners, crazy conundrums, and hilarious singing and dancing has been a treat. I will miss that as she grows and becomes more self conscious and naturally begins to hold back from some impulses.

But I'm also looking forward to knowing her as a 5 year old who loves to learn, explore the world around her and please mommy.

I love you little girl, who is now a big girl.

Happy Birthday.

It is what it is

2011-03-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

I had my first experience with hypnosis this week. I went in to the experience excited, curious, and a little nervous about what it would be like. I assumed it would be generally positive, because I wasn't warned to bring a driver to get me home. Seems like a good enough measure of how a counseling session will go, right?
The word "amazing" is getting way too overused in my life, but it really was kind of an amazing experience. Or rather, the results of the experience were amazing.

As I closed my eyes and grasped lightly two gently pulsating electrodes, my counselor asked me to find a comfortable position and then began to guide me on an audio-journey. The instructions were simple: listen, don't feel it necessary to speak or respond verbally, and to do with the information what seems appropriate. Use it, or toss it aside.

I recall being fully aware of my surroundings. I was conscious that my nose itched, and my eye felt sticky. I recall opening my sticky eye a handful of times during the session. I recall three stories I heard during the time. One was about a rare flower, one about a girl releasing balloons, and a third about me building a home from the foundation up.

I recall that I had difficulty summoning up an image of a tour group tromping through the everglades in search of an evasive and rare orchid. I recall being absolutely sure that the girl releasing balloons was going to suffer some dire consequence for releasing the balloons before she was told too. Which I think is funny, that even in a quasi conscious state, I was concerned about the "rules" and was freaking out that she wasn't following them! By the way, there was no consequence, the story described the entire experience of releasing the balloons as purely joyful. It was difficult for me to imagine being joyful about breaking the rules (she was supposed to release them at half-time, but she couldn't contain herself and let most of them go way before half time because they were bringing her so much joy to watch float away.) I recall being asked to imagine a blue-print for a home I would imagine building. The blueprint I imagined was for a very average but very respectable ranch style house. In fact, it was pretty much my friend Nicole's home that she had in Iowa. Realizing that, I find it kind of odd that my blueprint was somebody else's home (but it wasn't, it was mine, I just recognize that it was identical to my friend's home.) I recall as the story progressed that I was asked to begin lining my basement that I had worked so hard to dig with cement or bricks and that as I did so, an unwelcome guest entered my thoughts with a gigantic sledge hammer. In fact, the image this guest was represented by was this guy:

Only he wasn't chasing after a mouse, he was knocking down my walls. I would attempt to wall him in with brick and mortar and he'd knock through in a burst of dirty cement dust. There was a genuine struggle as I attempted, and ultimately succeeded in walling this big jerk out of my house! But the result was that I had closed off 7/8ths of my basement and had found it necessary to redirect my house building activities into an entirely different direction. The result was a ridiculously thick foundation. In fact the foundation was so thick that the basement was essentially not a usable space. On top of that foundation was a one room "shack". I say it was a shack, but it wasn't crumbling. I recall that it had wooden floor boards, a woven carpet, a wood stove and a rocking chair. One child played inside while I sat by myself on a wonderfully shady and yet sunny front porch. I recall that the view from this porch was vast fields of wild flowers and grasses. There were mountains in the distance, but they were a welcome sight, not a threatening presence. A gentle breeze was blowing the flowers and grasses to and fro as I rocked in a chair on that wonderful porch.

I was aware that I was shedding tears. As I was invited to open my eyes and end our session, I was aware that I did not feel fully present. I was aware that I was digging around in my brain a little longer. I was aware that I felt angry at the man with the hammer and that I was disappointed that my house didn't match my original blue prints. But my counselor made a statement that helped me tuck it back in and become more present in the room again. She said "the experience is what it is. There is no big lesson in there that you have missed. Let the positive images come forward and take this time as a gift for yourself." Knowing that there wasn't any big lesson I needed to decipher out of the experience gave me comfort. I think I am guilty of needing to find a lesson in just about everything. I like the idea of allowing some (most?) experiences to just be what they will be and to enjoy them for what they are.

The result of participating in this session was that throughout the day I found myself "seeing" the image of the beautiful flower filled land stretching out before me. I found that to be energizing and that it engaged in me a sense of peace, calm, and confidence. I loved that the predominant image that returned to me throughout the day was such a beautiful one. I loved that the beautiful image trumped the negative image. I felt energized.

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to participate in this healing journey, and I hope my sharing will help somebody in some small way to know that not only is it OK to ask for and receive mental health treatment, but that it doesn't mean you're crazy, broken beyond fixing, or too lazy to fix yourself on your own. In fact, I think NOT asking for help is just about the craziest thing a person can do.

7 Habits of happy families-begin with the end in mind

2011-03-01T13:17:00.000-08:00

The last two weeks, in our 7 Habits classes we've discussed the idea "Begin with the end in mind."
We received one of the BEST compliments we've ever received as a couple and as a family when the instructors made an off handed remark that they were talking about us and how we're a family who really begins with the end in mind.

This is not only one of the best compliments we've ever received, but also one that we can feel comfortable accepting, and acknowledging that this is an area that we are succeeding in. This is a somewhat new habit for us, but it has been a very natural habit for us that we didn't even realize we had developed. But the evidence shows, this is a habit we are using to our greatest advantage.

Part of our success in developing this habit is realizing one very important thing. People need sleep.
I'm not joking.

"How does sleeping relate to beginning with the end in mind?" you ask?
"If I take time to sleep, how will I ever get to the end?" you wonder?

As a family of cave dwellers with a crazy schedule that didn't make much room for sleep, we were not an effective family. Not at all. We spent the majority of our time responding to "fires", living life as a series of knee-jerk reactions to circumstances that at least felt out of our control. We definitely weren't beginning with the end in mind, because we could hardly function well enough to know what we would be dealing with the next day! To be fair, I think there is some element of this that is unavoidable when you have small children in the home. It is difficult to say the least to know what your entire week should look like, let alone what your morning will look like when you've got diapers to change and naps to put little people down for. But we were past that, without ever really getting past the reactionary living.

The biggest thing that has changed for us is sleep. This past November we were fortunate to receive a new work schedule that was beyond our wildest dreams. It didn't come magically, it came by way of mr, Cave Hair having to admit that neither he nor his family has handling the old work schedule well . I'm sure it was not easy for him to do that, there is a part of him that LOVES the exciting circumstances his old schedule would allow him to participate in. But he did it for us, and the results have been tremendously good!

Its really a blessing to sleep. Not just to sleep, but to sleep peaceably. And having appropriate rest has made us able to think ahead, know what we want, and plan for it. We have been able to adopt a "begin with the end in mind" way of living.

I'm really excited to be working on a family mission statement and can't wait to share what we come up with. The process is turning out to be very enjoyable and even the youngest of our clan has been able to give valuable input. I will share more soon, I want to talk about the process as much as the results, and can't wait to see your feedback.

your "Sunday School Answers" aren't working for me

2011-02-25T12:55:00.000-08:00

Its because they are YOUR answers!

That's not to say none of my answers wouldn't make GREAT contributions to the average Sunday School dialogue. My answers are in keeping with the gospel, and my religious beliefs, but I've been trying to find happiness inspite of my talents and personality strengths, instead of BECAUSE of my personality and talents.

7 Habits of happy families-being proactive

2011-02-22T08:42:00.000-08:00

One of the things that we as a family are the most excited about is the 7 Habits of Happy Families training that we've been participating in at Imagine East Mesa elementary school.

The school recently adopted the "Leader in Me" curriculum, and as part of such, the faculty and staff participated in the 7 habits training over the summer. They have been so excited about the personal changes they have experienced in their lives, that they decided to make the training available to interested families. Now, I will admit, receiving a hand-addressed invitation to participate caused me to experience some mixed emotions. I mean, on the one hand, wow! and on the other hand wow... Either they know us to be a family who cares, or a family who's struggling to figure it out. Or, oh yeah, there is that "both" that I am not ashamed to belong too.

The training has been facilitated by two super dynamic teachers known around the school as "the Matt's" not as in 'door'....no way, definitely no walking all over these two. They're a little like mutt and jeff, and they play off of each other beautifully as they get class participants engaged in discussing the 7 Habits and how they can be used in our family and personal lives for greater effectiveness.

We're only a few weeks in, and we've not covered a whole lot of material yet, but I love the slow pace, it gives us an opportunity to put our learning into practice. One thing I've learned about myself is that I'm pretty good at knowing all the right answers. I can talk the talk. Walking the walk however...well, I have some work to do. But that's part of what's great! I can identify the WHY of the things that aren't working, and if the WHY is me, then I can do what's necessary to change it! (and believe me I am a BIG part of the WHY. But don't read that as me self-bashing, its purely an acknowledgement that I'm not as effective as I can be, and now I'm beginning to understand what I need to do to change).

One of the first assignments we brought home was a family challenge to discuss responsibilities, and how we can become proactive in keeping up with our responsibilities. That night we sat around our dinner table discussing what responsibilities each of us carries in our household and were surprised to discover that we really do share more responsibilities than we might have thought at first glance.

For example, the youngest of our clan (not yet 5) is responsible to bathe and brush her hair daily, wear clean clothes, put away her toys, and eat her meals. If you have children who love to eat, you may not consider eating meals a responsibility, for this child however, meal eating is a necessary responsibility.
For the next youngest of the clan, responsibilities include getting dressed all the way to shoes and socks every morning before breakfast, completing homework, and putting away clean laundry. We discussed that some of mom and dad's responsibilities are providing a safe home environment, food, love, and electricity! When it was time to choose a responsibility to work on being proactive about, I was surprised at how easily the children chose which responsibilities to work on. It was as if the same things that were making me and daddy cave hair miserable to argue about every day, were also making the kids miserable. So it was with much excitement that the youngest chose to be proactive about eating her meals without complaining, and the next youngest chose to get dressed to the shoes without being reminded every day.

However....

I never saw what was coming next headed my way....

Enter "Proactive Man!"

Lights thrown on to illuminate the gloriousness that is being showered, dressed, belt buckled, shoes tied, underwear clean, and hair combed. And a loud announcement of "I'm being PROACTIVE!!!!"

At 4:55 AM......

But what's a proud mom to do other than congratulate her child and say "good job buddy". We did however go back to bed for a bit, with shoes on. The hair was a little "cave-ish" by the time we finally got up for school, but so what else is new? We wouldn't be us without it.

addendum to Raging Rhino's Growling Grizzlies

2011-02-22T08:02:00.000-08:00

Turns out, the name of the center we visited is NOT the Child Crisis Center (although that IS their website name) but rather the "Family Resource Center". Which is alot more user friendly than a crisis center sounds. But nonetheless, if I thought the name was the Child Crisis Center, that belief still made it hard to go there initially.

For anyone in the MESA AZ area who is interested in FREE or LOW COST (nothing is more than $15 dollars and that's for materials) parenting workshops, relationship workshops, or behavior workshops like the one we participated in, I can't recommend it highly enough. Visit the Family Resource Center online for a list of classes and contact information. The enrollment process is quick and easy, and child care IS provided! (for $1.00 per session.)

Raging Rhinos and Growling Grizzlies

2011-02-21T11:07:00.000-08:00

As a mother sometimes things just aren't what I wish they were. There is one particular cavebear in our little clan that is feistier than the rest. He is bright, charming, creative, intelligent, kind, and full of energy. Sometimes that energy gets channeled into wonderful places where happy memories are created. And sometimes...that energy goes no where good. At school, especially, extra energy seems to get expelled through all kinds of inappropriate activities that typically end with a trip to the principal's office.

Anger is one form that extra energy sometimes takes. And its expression has become troublesome. Not discounting the possibility that we're not getting the whole story, there is still reason for concern as to how this angry energy is being used at school, at home, and well, yes, even at play.

Its difficult to admit that my child has a behavior problem. It would be alot easier to blame it on everybody else. So and so is picking on him, this teacher doesn't like him, that kid is a teacher's pet, etc, etc, etc. But none of that would help him get on better at school, it would just keep me from having to admit that there's an area (or 3 or 5 or 10) of parenting that I'm not doing so well at.

I know in my heart its better to admit that I'm falling short and ask for help than to let my kid suffer from bad parenting. But that doesn't make it any easier to admit. One big step was making the call to the Child Crisis Center. Just the name alone put me on edge. It felt bigger than what I felt we were dealing with. Calling a place with that kind of name felt ominous, like I was somehow one parenting class away from completely losing it. But making that call has been a wonderful thing for us.

Here's what I've learned: The Child Crisis Center is a loving, safe, friendly place for families to learn together.
Their tagline "Strong Families, Safe Kids" says it much better than the title of their organization. By offering a variety of classes for parents, children, even grandparents acting as caretakers, stronger more functional families can be created, and where there is love and safety, there too is a successful family. The Child Crisis Center is not a place to be ashamed to visit. Its not like visiting a welfare office, going to the "wrong side of town" , or otherwise any kind of embarrassing. Its not full of dirty ne-er-do-wells. In fact, the center is full of regular, every day, normal families, just like yours and mine who have decided that something is not working, and perhaps another perspective on the problem could be helpful. Its full of families who love each other and want to experience family life as its meant to be experienced. Walking into a center such as this is not an admission of failure. It is an admission of not knowing everything there is to know. Not all the information you will recieve in this kind of setting will apply to your situation. Take from it what works, and leave behind the rest.

What I love most about participating in these classes is the opportunity to bring things home like the "Bucket Filler" concept, which ironically is helping us more with our youngest child, than the child enrolled in the classes. But also the comraderie of children, and parents who all came together looking for the same kind of help, but showed themselves all to be wonderful, kind, personable, creative, and joyful people. Each with a similar area of struggle. I guess that's to say I learned we're "Normal" to need a little help.

And that makes it a little better. Because really, don't we really just want to feel "normal" inside?
And when we secretly deal with a problem that we have made bigger than it is, our feelings of normalcy are stolen and replaced by feelings of shame and guilt. Its silly! And I refuse to participate anymore. So if you think less of me because I enrolled my family in anger management class, that's ok. I still won't feel guilty about it, because guilt isn't the appropriate emotion here. And I learned THAT at anger management.

Creativity and a clear head

2011-02-18T09:32:00.000-08:00

The first time I heard the phrase "Craft for health" I admit, I thought it was a little silly. How could "crafting" be good enough for me to be a part of a healthy lifestyle? But then I started visiting a few different crafting blogs and realized that if I could take the opportunity to do something creative each day, it could be a beautiful way to clear my head. I love to work with paper, there's something about the texture, patterns, feel, ability to layer, etc that I just really enjoy, plus, its inexpensive, easy to acquire, and easy to combine various other medias to create things totally unique. I wish I had a better image of this piece I created for my dad's 60th birthday. Its my own interpretation of a photo taken during last year's trip to Australia that he and my mother, and my sister and her husband took to honor some of my grandmother's last wishes. The photography from that trip came back incredibly beautiful, and I loved the colors and shadows of the original photo. This piece is paper and pen on wood. Its not perfect, and its not meant to be. That's what's beautiful about art, it doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to represent your intentions. My intention here was to produce a piece of art inspired by the original photo, but not to be an exact replica. I loved getting lost in the colors and geometric shapes for the 3 or 4 hours it took to complete.

I've made a goal to create a little something most every day. It won't always be "art" so to speak. Maybe it will be food, or a blog entry. Maybe it will be a new arrangement of the animals on a child's bed. Maybe rearranged pictures on the wall. The purpose is to get lost for a few minutes in something happy, and to let that spill over into all the rest.

Forgiveness

2011-02-15T08:42:00.000-08:00

in my Hello Again post, I ended with a short list of some of the things happening in Cave land. For a group of people living in a cave, we have certainly come to see the light in ways we never expected. Being able to see the light has involved copious amounts of forgiveness, both asked for and received.

As a clan, we have a long history of "sucking it up" and moving on. Only "sucking it up" is really about as effective as "sucking the life out" and tends to produce approximately the same results~ mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion.

There are some things in life that perhaps are best dealt with by "sucking it up" and moving on...you know things like spilled milk. Other things however, need serious and extensive attention. The kinds of things that disrupt your thinking patterns, your social patterns, the way you interact with yourself, your family, and your community, those are the kinds of things that need attention. The problem is, your behavior feels normal to you, and everybody else seems like the problem, and its hard to recognize yourself as the common denominator in a series of failures.

Our little clan of cave hairs came to a crisis point last spring. We found ourselves in a near constant literal and figurative combat mode, sparked by years of unrest (literally not sleeping due to crazy work schedules and frequent nightmares) and a new neighbor who thought it was way too awesome to set off large firework explosions in the middle of the night, we were a family ready for the fight. Combat readiness, while valuable in certain organizations, you know, like the MILITARY, isn't really a positive component of family relationships. It (combat readiness) tends to erode trust and tenderness, two of the most important aspects of successful, loving families. With little tenderness remaining, and trust eroded to an all time low (let me explain here that we're talking emotional trust...the kind that dictates how strongly we fortify ourselves against emotional hurt. Please do not infer acts of dishonesty, marital or otherwise, because that's not the case.) we found ourselves resentful of each other and in a constant battle of wills....and finally in marriage counseling and anger management classes.

The best thing that ever happened in our marriage was me being officially diagnosed with PTSD. Why you ask? Because it got Mr. Cave Hair to look in the mirror and ask "If my wife has PTSD, and she hasn't experienced (insert whatever he has experienced here....suffice it to say, he's been in real combat) then how could I NOT have PTSD?

I knew he had PTSD, but he was stuck in being bigger than the mission, believing not being able to handle what he's experienced in life to be a sign of weakness. NOT SO! In fact, one Vietnam Vet put it best in an interview with Warrior SOS, "if you are a decent, caring person, you cannot help but be effected by what you have experienced". So, in fact, having difficulty processing what you've experienced and putting it in its place relative to where your life is now, versus letting it dictate how you live your life now, isn't a sign of weakness, its a sign that you're not a freaking sociopath! Nobody wants to be a sociopath, right? So basically, unless you think sociopaths are awesome, its now ok to admit that taking a 6 year old with half his face blown off to a MASH unit haunts you and that the memory of such occassionally disturbs your ability to act "normally".

So what have these diagnosis meant to the Clan of the Cave Hair? Its meant finally realizing that not everything in life can be controlled by just trying harder. It has meant accepting that some stuff just can't be controlled. It has meant bringing wonderful people into our lives who see in us something of value, a family of individuals worth rescuing. It has meant finally being honest with ourselves about what we can and cannot handle.

It has meant FORGIVENESS. Forgiveness asked for and recieved, from each other, to each other, from ourselves, to ourselves, and from our God, and yes, even too our God...because frankly, we were an angry lot, and while it may seem blasphemous, we needed to forgive God for letting us experience the things we have been most hurt by, so that we could understand that it has been by those things that we have also become the good parts of ourselves, cave hair and all ;)

Cookin' in the Cave-Valentine's Day Edition

2011-02-14T12:03:00.000-08:00

Just because I "CAN" doesn't mean I "HAVE TOO"....

That was my rule for Valentine's Day creations this year. Its quite liberating really. I mean, really, is it genuinely necessary that I make a triple layer chocolate mousse fudge cake with dark chocolate ganache and chocolate curls? NO! Its not! I CAN do that, but to what end? I don't need it, my kids won't eat it, and it takes alot of time, energy, and even a small portion of the grocery budget that I'm just not willing to part with right now.

Priorities. Putting first things first That's where we're at in our little Cave Hair Clan right now. It was a priority to provide something fun, something special, and something the kids could help me with for a Valentine celebration. It was NOT a priority to have it be excruciatingly time consuming, expensive, or "perfect". Perfect is as perfect does, and a triple layer chocolate mousse fudge cae with dark chocolate ganache and chocolate curls may be "picture perfect" but if the family won't eat it, and I make myself into a martyr over the process...its not the perfect cake for US.

There's only one martyr being celebrated on Valentine's Day, and it is not MOM.

So here's Valentine's Day celebration treats done Cave style:

Divine in all their crunchy, creamy, sweet, smooth, and tanginess, heart shaped Pavlova desserts are both a family favorite and a nod to our Australian heritage. To get sprinkles to stay on the meringues, add it before you bake. We did ours up in our own unique style, with lemon scented meringue, and creme fraiche instead of the classic whipped cream. I LOVED them made this way, even if it started out as necessary substitutions for other ingredients I lacked. I will be making them this way again, for SURE!

Ginger Gems

Did you ever start out with the best of intentions and then in a moment of honesty realize, you just weren't up to completing the task as originally planned? Its far too easy to just throw it all away at this point and adopt an "all or nothing" attitude about even the smallest of things. But knowing one's limitations does not require an all or nothing attitude. Not even close! Adaptability is the key. The dough for these ginger gems (featuring a healthy dose of ChefTess' Wise woman of the East Spice Blend...perfect with anything gingery) was originally intended to become beautifully decorated ginger people, personalized for each of 8 preschool class mates. Sunday afternoon rolled around, it had been a long and physically exhausting week, and I wasn't interested in spending my entire Sunday afternoon decorating cookies. Plus, the point was for Lily to help, and she LOVES to decorate, for about 3 minutes, then she's ready to move on to the next thing. Turning this ginger dough into "Ginger Gems" was the perfect solution. We took the chilled dough, rolled in balls, flattened out into a tray of non-pariels and stuck a heart on top of each one. Lily helped to the end, the turned out extremely festive, and every single cookie was decorated, baked, and cooling in under 30 mins (starting with previously mixed and chilled dough.)

Perfect!

for us...

which, after all, is really the point.

hello again

2011-02-11T13:19:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking it may be time to resurrect the blog. 2010 was a year we found ourselves saying "don't let the door hit you in the butt" too, but 2011 is full of hope and good things to come, and as I seem to have my life together enough to find myself watching TV and taking a nap mid afternoon because all my work is done, I think maybe I can come back to the occasional blogging activity.

I know everybody says "we're on an amazing journey"...its become somewhat cliche, so I'll refrain from saying "We're on an amazing journey", but I will say, I like the path we're on right now, and I feel hopeful for the future.
Some things broke down, rather, some PEOPLE (more than one!) broke down last year, we came as close as completely falling apart as is possible without actually calling it quits, but at the same time, we experienced greater achievements than we've ever experienced, and it was a WEIRD year! But this year, we've got some wonderful people and organizations in our court, helping us put things into perspective, and helping us to find a greater appreciation for life and the people, places, and things with which we find ourselves interacting.

the "Sneak Peak" version is a little something like this: Family counseling for all of us, individual counseling for three of us, PTSD, anger management, discipline contracts, EMDR, 7 Habits of Happy Families training (LOVE IT!), karate training, saying NO, adding art and creativity back into life, and teaching the New Testament to 8,9,and 10 year olds. LIFE IS GOOD, and its ok to feel wonky inside, with or without Cave Hair.

"See" you again soon,

L.

church videos

2010-08-22T20:29:00.000-07:00

I don't know if its a well known fact, but it is an established fact within my mind that I am not entirely comfortable with media as missionary work. Its something inside me that is insecure. I know all the advantages, but I am not secure enough inside to stand up should somebody make fun of me, attempt to engage me in arguments that can't be won, insult me, or otherwise do anything other than click "like". And yet, on occasion, I do share, and yet have I been persecuted. But still, I have a gnawing discomfort about it.

So when facebook started showing me side-bar ad's for videos titled "and I'm a Mormon" I really kind of thought to myself, what? Now we're going to attempt to validate ourselves by pointing out famous people who are also Mormon? I thought to myself, aren't we confident enough in our faith that we don't need to go name dropping? And then some names started popping up that weren't familiar to me. I questioned myself, wondering if I'd really created such a vacuum in my home by turning off cable that I wouldn't recognize these names? I refused to click.

It turns out I had it all wrong. Its not about name dropping. Its about encouraging members of the church to be their talents, their passions, their strengths, and then also being a Mormon. Here's what I found:

Just the right ad popped up. I don't know what was different about it, maybe because the woman featured didn't "look like a Mormon" (ie: she wasn't wearing multiple layers of jewelry on top of multiple layers of t-shirts topped off with multiple layers of teased hair topped with a giant blossoms posing as cherry on top of that frilly yet modest sundae of fashion...not that the look isn't kinda cute, I actually like it, but you all know exactly the look I'm describing, because 2/3 of your RS showed up to church today dressed like that). Maybe it was because it said she was an artist. I don't know why I clicked. But I did.

Of course I can't find the video a second time to save my life, or I'd post it here for you to see. But watching this video, this woman, this artist, she answered for me a deeply smoldering question I hadn't even fully formulated yet. My question was "why don't I feel like 'one of them'?" The answer is "because that's not what Heavenly Father created you to be. Earlier in the week I had come to a realization that my social circle at church did not need to be the definition of me. I have found so much confidence, self acceptance, social acceptance, and happiness outside of my church community lately, that I've really begun to think deeply on what role church plays in my life. I had realized that I didn't need to be struggling to become socially engaged with women I don't fully understand in order to be a "good Mormon".

What does that mean? I think it means I can take a load off!

Not too long ago I was a week away from never going back to church. I felt miserable there. And not for any good reason. I couldn't put my finger on my unhappiness. I felt like I was surrounded by unhappiness, by women trying to be something homogeneous and safe and as wholesome as vitamin D milk, who didn't really want to be that. I felt like I was surrounded by misery, boredom, and women trying to be someone else's idea of what they should be. I was having conflict because I found something I loved that was exciting, physical, enlightening, energetic, healthy and didn't involve in anyway chocolate, bread dough, whole wheat, or crafting scissors, and I suddenly had no idea how to relate with this group of women on a level other than the gospel.

And then this video clip.

What did she say? I'm not 100% sure, but what I heard was "that image of what I was supposed to be was something I made up! Heavenly father wants me to be me!"

And I got to thinking. Where in the scriptures does it say put your passions to rest, do not seek to discover your talents, be like everybody else and get along? NO! This is NOT what we're taught! And yet, many women of the church are receiving this message loud and clear. What are we doing to each other and ourselves that we receive this message, even though this is not the message sent? WHY do we hear this message? Is it the "anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report" thing? Is it the advice to temper our tongues? What is it?! Why do we feel the need to be homogeneous to the degree of sacrificing our talents, opportunities to strengthen our understanding of the world around us, to go outside our bubble and seek other worthy knowledge? Where did we get the idea that a "good Mormon" defines herself by the perfection of her scrapbook, the freshness of her ground wheat, and the perfect balance between modest and hottest in her wardrobe? Where did we get the notion that a "good Mormon" is a church mouse?

Well, I went back to church, because I know what I know. I KNOW God the Father and His Son and the Holy Ghost are three individual beings. I KNOW that the Book of Mormon is a book of scripture, written by prophets of old. I am certain that other books containing holy writings will be found across the globe. I cannot walk away from my church and expect to have this knowledge sustained elsewhere. I decided to keep going because I don't know enough yet, and I want to be in the service of my Father in Heaven while I'm learning. I don't have the personal discipline to learn it on my own with nobody guiding me, teaching me, or giving me the opportunity to teach. And now I know that I can go, I can serve, I can do my best and my best is good enough for my Father in Heaven.

And I think maybe that's a tiny portion of where we've gone wrong. As women, we've forgotten that our best is always good enough for Him. Sure, sister Jones might think our best is lame...and chances are good if she does think our best is lame, its because it makes her feel inadequate in some way, but so what? Love Sister Jones anyways, help her find out what HER best is, greet her with a friendly smile, and keep walking till you see the next sister that doesn't know why she's there. Find your passion, chances are good your talents and passions are not what everyone else's are, and that's a GOOD thing! Imagine what a boring world we would live in if all of us really were the Stepford Wives we seem to be trying to create within our social network of church.

I am so glad I watched that video and received the message that Heavenly Father doesn't want me to be just exactly like each one of my RS sisters. That he wants me to explore my own strengths and talents and then be able to say "and...I'm a Mormon". That's different, isn't it? and I feel comfortable again.

Hello Again

2010-08-02T00:47:00.000-07:00

Recently it was brought to my attention that it had been well over 3 months since my last post. To tell the truth, I was surprised that it had been that short a time! The last three months have been a whirl-wind of activity. We have learned and grown so much as a family and as individuals.

Looking back on these last many weeks, I can truly see Heavenly Father's hand in our lives and feel so blessed for the opportunities He has brought our way. The blessings have been so abundant, that for the first time in memorable history, we (me) have been able to recognize the blessings in things that would normally have ruined the day, week, or month in the past.

The lack of blogging has come directly from our nearly full time involvement in planning and preparing for a statewide martial arts tournament. Having only ever been to one tournament prior, I guess we (JP and I) were not mentally confined to the "traditional" ideas about how to throw a tournament, and we got crazy with an idea, and then the idea became a question, and then the answer to the question became "YES" and then...wow. I will admit at times I felt thrown into a roll I was not prepared to fill. But when push came to shove, being urged to move forward and take the lead was the best thing to happen to me, JP, or our marriage, in a very long time.

What did we learn? We learned that people like to help, and they want to say "YES". The economy has not put a damper on excitement about new opportunities, unique ideas, or the entrepreneurial spirit. We learned that small businesses can be incredibly generous, enthusiastic, and kind. Corporations have a lot of red-tape, and can be difficult to navigate, but can sometimes still come through with surprising levels of generosity.

We learned that there are some amazing things happening in our community. Downtown Mesa was once a thriving neighborhood and business center, but has been plagued by lack of quality housing to bring services into the downtown area. The neighborhoods circling the downtown center have had their own challenges, and many businesses have not kept up with the neighborhood's needs, leaving empty real-estate and business' associated with a different quality of life than most would prefer. But that's all slated to change as Mesa's leadership plans to renovate, rejuvenate, and re-invigorate the downtown area. And that being a group who seeks to improve the landscape of lives through hard work and discipline, you become a really good fit for groups who seek to change the landscape of lives by literally changing the landscape.

We learned that sometimes you have to make somebody actually tell you "NO". And that until they've said "no", either they're just putting off disappointing you, or they intend to say "YES" but they need more information before they can confirm their desire to help.

We learned to partner together, to know which one of us has the right attitude, personality, or motivation to get something done. We've learned that we can trust each other to accomplish the goals we've set, but also that communication, clarification, and consistency are key to accomplishment. We've discovered that just because Lisa knows what she's talking about, doesn't mean JP has picked up on the same vision and vice-versa. We've learned to say to the other "This is what I understand you to mean,_______________ is that correct?" (and have discovered at least 50% of the time, one of us has completely misunderstood the other!)

We've learned that we can't make other people share our vision. We've learned that sometimes safety measures appear to be barriers to success. We've learned that there is a balance to be met between safety and success.

We've learned that we need not just one checklist, but many. We have a plan to create a "control binder" of sorts for tournament planning. That binder is the reason I'm awake right now as thoughts began to flood my brain after I turned the lights out to sleep tonight.

We've learned that sometimes people will make you responsible for their success...and that we cannot shoulder that responsibility.

We've learned that some people will over-invest, others will under-invest, and both will be disappointed in the results.

We've learned that it might be interesting in the future to relay more demographically specific information to help those prone to over investing understand what an appropriate investment might be for a group like ours.

We've learned that when it comes to small businesses, the owner's personality has far more influence on our purchasing decisions than the product.

But we've also learned that Heavenly Father wants to bless us. That He will bless us, and He will bless our efforts when we are engaged in something unselfish which suits His purposes. We've learned that He will use anybody willing to do His work, and not just members of any specific church. We've learned that our peers like us, that hard work is more respected than talent, and that its O.K. to not be 100% the winner 100% of the time, and that joy can be found in the success of others.

We've learned that a dead-battery at the end of a long and exhausting day (week) doesn't have to be a gut-wrenching stress inducing problem, but that we can ask for a jump and be grateful we can make the necessary purchase the next day. We can be grateful we weren't stuck in a rainstorm, at the side of the road, or in the middle of a bad money month.

Mostly, I think, we've learned to be grateful. Not just for the success of the tournament, or the blessings of friendship we enjoy, but for each other, our health, and the unique opportunity we found ourselves with this summer.

And speaking of being grateful:
Big thanks go to POOL together, Arizona's first collaborative market (seriously you guys, the day will come that you won't visit the greater Phoenix area without visiting POOL together. Its going to be that cool)
All of the POOL merchants, especially those who made generous sponsorships, and or donations to our silent auction.
Grand Master Han's Martial Arts of Arizona, but also of Arkansas, Tennessee, Missouri, and California, plus other's I can't remember off the top of my head.
Vic Villont for putting in the good word for us at Pepsi Co/Quaker, and Liberty Lumber.
But most especially for all of our friends who let us do what we thought needed to be done without worrying about rank, or experience. There were a number of times we were not sure if/how we should proceed, we worried that we might step on toes, or be seen to think we were more than we were just because we were having some success with the task at hand. As it turned out, we were the only one's worried about being too successful. Which leads me to my final thought: Being fearful of success is a CROCK! and I've been living in that crock a long, long time. I'm glad the crock has been broken and that lump of stinky cheese has been set free. Some things just don't get better with age, and fear of success is one of them.

An instance where being somewhat of a packrat has its merits

2010-04-06T13:21:00.000-07:00

I have fought long and hard to rid myself of my pack-rat-like tendencies. Once upon a time I was that kid (who are we kidding, I was that adult too) who could not rid myself of anything I deemed to have any semblance of sentimental value. It meant I kept things like those cheap glass vases that flowers are purchased in, out of fashion jeans I hoped to fit in one day, and holey-pillow cases that had embroidery on them done by my great-grandmother. (I actually still have a couple of those, I can't throw them away, but I haven't figured out just the right way to reuse them yet.) I have worked SO hard at improving this aspect of my personality in fact, that I've taken a few items to Goodwill that in retrospect I really wish I hadn't...but I did, so I'm proud of myself.

However, it seems that this tendency has sneaked into an unexpected avenue. My FREEZER!

In an effort to be better prepared for home-cooked meals during the week I started doing freezer meals. You know, those simple, ready to heat and eat, inexpensive, healthy items you can find all over the internet? (my favorite source is Chef Tess because I know I can rely on family friendly flavors and budget friendly ingredients).

Well, as I sat down to make my monthly grocery order (we buy groceries from The Treasure Box, a discount food vendor which goes along way towards creating wiggle room in our family budget) I recalled that my freezer seemed kind of full to me, so I figured I better go inventory it before making a new order.

Yikes! I'm like a squirrel in an oak forest 2 weeks before a deep freeze! After inventorying the freezer I not only realized that I didn't need to buy anything other than fresh fruit and veggies, milk, and cheese for the next two weeks, but that I actually had 23 (yes, 3 WEEKS + worth) pre-prepared meals ready to go for my family.

Needless to say I didn't order any food boxes this month. But I did sit down immediately and write two weeks worth of dinner menus. No excuses, we're eating at home this month, and I won't even cause my supply of freezer meals to dwindle into non-existence because I've mixed it up between freshly prepared meals and freezer meals based on the activity schedule.

The best part is we'll only spend about 20% of our usual grocery budget on groceries for the house this month, which means that when we take our trip at the end of the month we can feel free (both financially and health wise) to just go and enjoy ourselves and eat whatever meals out we need to eat.

If you're finding yourself too overwhelmed with your family's busy schedule, may I highly recommend spending a little extra time over the next couple of weeks to increase your supply of dinners on hand? The easiest way to quickly and almost effortlessly get started is to make double quantities of your family's favorite meals over the next couple of weeks. Serve one portion, freeze the other for a later use. Good luck! You won't believe how guilt-free you feel when you sit down after an extremely busy day with a home-cooked meal on the table instead of McDonald's wrappers. And guess what? If it hasn't been that busy of a day but you could really use some free-time to go swim with the kids, or take a nap, this is a great way to make that time available.

When Guam tips over...

2010-04-05T20:58:00.000-07:00

When Guam tips over...
maybe I'll like lima beans.
perhaps I'll be able to buy beach front property, possibly even in AZ.
and we'll all be able to trust the government. Or, really, I guess not, since it will be their fault that Guam tipped over, even though they claimed to not anticipate that happening.

My Netflix top 10 suggestions

2010-03-22T10:55:00.000-07:00

Here is a recent Netflix Top 10 Suggestions list for me.

Future Weapons, Season 2
I Carly, Season 1
An American Tale
Kipper
Pingu
Call of the Wild
Discovery Channel "Stealth Technology"
Carrier (a military documentary)
Maxed Out (another documentary, this time about debt and the disappearing middle class)
and
Everest, Beyond the Limit, season 1

What does this tell you about who's actually doing the netflix watching around here?

(Dis)Enchanted

2010-03-21T20:36:00.000-07:00

During a dinner at my inlaws with a couple of missionaries last week a funny story came to mind about an old college room-mate. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best story to tell a 21 year old getting ready to head home in 4 days, but then again, at least now he's prepared!

I went to BYU for one whopping whole semester. I didn't love it there. I had a hard time finding my niche. My room-mates were actually mostly great, except for the one that I actually shared a room with, she wasn't always very nice, and as it turns out, very sane. But it took me a while to figure out that she wasn't just PMSing as she'd always blame her unkind moments on, but that she was a total and complete whack job.

What finally clued me in?

The following little adventure.

It all started with a calendar countdown. You know the kind where a specific date is circled heavily in brightly colored ink and each preceding day is carefully marked off with an X through the box. I'm assuming she had started the countdown about 22 months before I met her. The calendar was hanging in our room from the day she moved in. Each night she would mark the calendar, every week she would write a letter, every day she would check the mail. She was a girl in love! And she was waiting for her man on a mission.

She told me all about him, how funny and cute he was, how she just couldn't wait for him to get home and start planning their wedding. She had bridal magazines with pages torn out of the cutest dresses, she knew exactly which ring she wanted, where to get it and how much he'd have to save to purchase it for her. She had already picked the colors for her bridesmaids, and flower arrangements. She had decided which part of town she wanted to live in, how many babies they'd have and what he'd do for a living! She had everything down except for the actual proposal which she fully expected upon his exit of the airplane he would arrive home in.

The day drew near and she began to plan a road-trip home to Denver. It was a several hours long drive, and not really dangerous, but being young and not an experienced driver, she didn't want to make the trip alone. I had never been to Denver before, so I said "heck yeah! I'm in!" We packed the car, filled up the tank and set out on the road to Denver. I drove her car most of the way while she freaked out about it being illegal to travel in the left lane...I still have no idea she was talking about! But she was definitely too nervous to drive, she was about to be proposed too after all by the man of her dreams!

We arrived in Denver about 1:00am, let ourselves in to her mother's house, got some sleep and prepared ourselves for the big day. The next morning we woke late and ate pancakes made by her mom and then began to prepare for our big excursion to the airport. She had signs, flowers, balloons, and a belated Valentine bear complete with cheesy red-satin heart to give her love. We were on the countdown and it was down to hours.

I began to realize that something wasn't quite right when she started frantically trying to figure out who to contact to find out what time his flight arrived. I kind of figured he would have sent her that information if he was intending on proposing at the airport! (of course she said she wasn't supposed to know that he was going to do this, it was supposed to be a surprise.) She made phone call after phone call after phone call. Nobody seemed to really have the information she was looking for, or maybe they just weren't volunteering it, I'm not sure. Finally after I don't even know how many phone calls, she was able to get one person to talk to her. That person told her that she had missed his arrival by plane and that he was now home with his family. I honestly have no idea what else that person said to her, but I have sneaking suspicion that they at least intimated that she should leave him alone, but no, this was her missionary and they were getting married! Somehow she knew his address, I'm not exactly sure how, maybe a friend of a friend, or something. Keep in mind here that I had only just begun to get suspicious, I didn't KNOW anything wasn't the way she said it was, I had just begun to realize that things weren't really adding up. But away we went, off to the young man's home to pay a visit and witness the most romantic thing that ever happened...a "fresh from the mission, haven't even been released yet" marriage proposal. (That the girl had to hunt down the returned proposed groom for by way of dozens of phone calls.)

I'll never forget pulling up to the curb as she practically leaped from passenger side, the car just barely put into park. Her arms were full with all her gifts, her palms were sweaty (we laughed about the cheap white Valentine Bear fur sticking to her hands), her blonde curly hair poofy and bangs perfectly formed into the much coveted and often copied "Claw" hairdo of the late 80's/early 90's. I'm pretty sure her jeans came all the way up to her ribcage, and that was totally cool.

She stood at the door, rang the bell and was greeted by someone I couldn't see. ( I had been asked to stay in the car since this was such a private moment between her and her expected fiancé.) She entered the home, was gone about 10 minutes, and then came bursting out in a mad dash covered in black mascara streaking down her face, sobbing like a girl who just found out her fiancé was a lying, cheating, scum-maggot.

It took a while, but she finally calmed down enough to tell me what happened inside the house.

The returned missionary was there, just as handsome as she remembered. Only he didn't remember her.

He had apparently opened one of her very first letters and as a new missionary thought it was great to get a letter and wrote her back, but apparently at some point had begun throwing away her letters without opening them. (I'm guessing she said something that weirded him out, you think?) She was madder than a hornet and was ranting and raving and cussing him out and acting quite decidedly as though he were one of the devil's minions and that his mission had done him no good at all.

At some point I asked her "how long did you guys date?" She said "we didn't really date, we just kind of had a connection, but we never went on an actual date." I'm sure I asked her several other questions, but what I remember most about the whole story was the bombshell confession she laid on me only 2 hours into our trip back to Provo. SHE HAD ONLY EVER DANCED ONE SINGLE DANCE WITH THE GUY AT A YOUTH DANCE THREE YEARS EARLIER! THERE WAS NEVER ANY RELATIONSHIP!

So what's the moral of this story? If you're a young man on a mission and getting strange letters from girls you don't know...fully expect her to show up at your house when you get home looking for a ring! AND when you're away at college, if you go on a road-trip with a room-mate you didn't really like in the first place, expect it to get weird. There's a reason you didn't like her.

Stupidity

2010-03-08T15:40:00.000-08:00

Would be watching the documentary by the same name and not realizing that you were indeed being mocked.
What started out as a fun explanation as to why humans purposefully choose to do stupid things, like be highly entertained by movies such as Jackass, and sit in front of the boob-tube for hours at the end of a long workday made an ugly turn. Suddenly I found myself being accused of purposefully choosing to be stupid by questioning the reality of global warming. (There is at least as much scientific evidence against it as there is for it, how is it stupid to question the findings on either side?) and even further more being presented with the idea (stated as fact of course) that choosing to believe in a religion, ANY religion, is the very definition of stupid.

Offended yet? Me too. Only apparently being offended by any of the above is absolute proof that I am a moron.

Oh well. I'd rather fool myself into believing that there is hope for the world, that humanity is intrinsically good, and that there is a plan for my life than be fooled into thinking the only hope for the future is that stupid people will die. I truly wonder, what would the makers of this 'documentary' even do with themselves if all the stupid people did die? They'd have nothing to sit on their soap-boxes about.

on my mind

2010-02-27T16:33:00.000-08:00

Earthquakes, beach front property, tsunamis.

Lost Dutchmen, gold mines, mini-horses, parades. (Gabe was SO excited to participate and ride his school's float down the parade route, Lily was SO excited about the miniature horses. She re-named one "Black Shadow")

Birthdays, ponies, sea-ponies, and parks.

Baby showers, adoption, love and compassion. (so nice to see friends from the old neighborhood and to meet the new little guy.)

Music, pianos

Summer! Swimming, sunshine

Gray hair. (I really want to color my hair, but as I mentioned above, summer, swimming, and sunshine are on my mind, because really, they're just around the corner. None of those things are very easy on colored hair, and I'm not going to stay inside to protect my colored hair.)

Freezer meals, fast food

sleep, nightmares, sheep

polar bear livers. (thanks Joel, I guess that story made an impression on me since I keep catching it crossing my mind at random.)

Cable TV, Netflix, Fringe season 1

Oranges, Grapefruits, Marmalade. (hooray for Arizona citrus. SO delicious!)

black belt (I'm like 4 belt promotions away, which is still more than a year away, but its kind of within sight.)

beaded bracelet watches (didn't figure I'd love mine so much, such a silly little indulgence.)

Then there's the best $15 I may ever have spent. The Hamilton Beach single serving smoothie maker. The container you mix it in is the container you drink from. With fresh berries starting to come in season, I've been buying in bulk, freezing, and making such yummie smoothies and shakes for the family. AND...I'm getting breakfast every morning, because its so quick and easy.

I participated in my first consumer research panel discussion the other day. Trident wanted some ideas on how mom's view gum. It was really fun and I got paid $75 to be opinionated. Not bad, eh?

Our "Total Money Makeover" is still rolling along nicely. Or is that "snowballing" along nicely? Either way, what a difference. Funny how the extra work that hasn't been around is suddenly popping up right when we needed a little motivation.

Weight Loss. Its good for your marriage! Feeling fat and depressed, its bad for your marriage.

JP accidentally threw me over his shoulder the other day. He really, truly did. And it really, truly wasn't on purpose. It was actually kind of funny. (after I recovered from the shock of hitting the floor and falling stupidly on my arm.) We were at karate practicing a self-defense technique. Suffice it to say, if a guy the size of JP attacks me, I'm screwed. Either that or I'll have to fight VERY dirty.

Home buying. I'm starting to feel the pull to find "our" house. I don't know where it is, but I do know its got a great-room layout and a pantry the size of a laundry room. The pull's gonna have to wait a little while longer though.

Lacrosse. Annie's started training for the season and I can't wait to see a game. Its so neat to see her so enthused about a sport.

Em. I'm missing my hamster.

Why do all kids movies sound the same?

Why do I like some shows that follow a set formula? (House, Kitchen Nightmares) but can't stand others?

Ironing. Its what I need to get off this computer to go do. That and some dinner fixing activities.

Marketing. Need to spend some time on that tonight for our Martial Arts classes.

Love notes. Got one the other night left on my pillow. :)

Kid compliments. Being called "My special mommy" and "cutie pie" make my day.

Lunch Boxes. Save lots of money, but bring a certain amount of "stink" with them far too often.

Weekend. Why am I thinking about what I need to do next week on Saturday afternoon? Can't I just enjoy the weekend?

Brains are gross.

2010-02-14T19:08:00.000-08:00

I recently instituted the "If you've got a critique of dinner, then you may submit it in writing" rule, and tonight was the first time it was put to the test.

I grilled rib-eye steaks for Valentine's day dinner. They tend to have some fat on them. This is what Goob had to say about dinner:

I don't like fat.
Becas its gross.
It's like a brane.
It is olso lik goo.
But its for your brane.
And it looks werd.

Apparently his portion of steak had more fat on it than he would have preferred.

When Lessons from Above Hit You Over the Head with a Frying Pan

2010-02-13T21:12:00.000-08:00

Recently I got a new calling at church. It was one of those "are you sure you've got the right person?" moments when they told me what they wanted me to do. To which they replied, "Oh yeah, you're the one."

They wanted me to be the Visiting Teaching Coordinator. The what?!?!?! I'm going to be totally and completely honest here, Visiting Teaching has not previously been a part of my life. At least not in a regular way. My mom had an extremely bad experience with visiting teaching during my formative years and I think I was (am) a little bit afraid of it. Couple that with having been raised to never invite myself to somebody else's home, but to always wait for the invitation, and getting called "hester the pester" every time I asked for something more than once, Visiting Teaching just hasn't been something I can really wrap my head around.

I've also never really had visiting teachers who ever came to see me. I'd be willing to bet that in the 20 years I've been an adult, I've had fewer than 20 visiting teaching appointments kept by women assigned to me. Its not a complaint, I'm sure if I "needed" it, I would have had them, but it wasn't something I really felt was missing from my life either. But I do think that because there was not the example of regular visits too me, that I didn't/don't quite fully comprehend the importance that it may carry for other people. I know intellectually that the program is important, but its not something I've felt in my heart, or experienced in my life on either the giving or the receiving end.

So, they call me to be the visiting teaching coordinator and I'm a little flabbergasted, and a little nervous, and ALOT confused by all the reports and various versions of the lists, and it feels like a little much. But I know (again, intellectually, not fully with my heart) that there is a reason for all this and am willing (even if without the best attitude) to do what I'm asked because its not really anything I can't do.

But I'm still feeling a little unwilling, or uncharitable, or un-something.

Then, the other day Marsha, the owner of the Martial Arts School calls me to check on how a friend of mine who has been ill has been. During our conversation she says: Its so important that our students know we care about them and we notice when they're gone, and that we have genuine concern about them and their families. It was easy for me to keep up with everybody when we first got out here but now that we've got about 300 students, I just need people who are willing to help check on them and see how they're doing and let me know if there's something I need to do to help them.

well FINE! Seriously? Do I have to get hit over the head with a cast iron skillet to get the lesson here? I get it. The military is using companies of women only to make headway in Afghanistan because they understand that the relationships women form are more likely to produce the kind of free-flow of information necessary to understand what's really happening in the communities they are struggling to get a foothold in. Now Marsha's talking about how with about 300 people she has to have help to know what her students need. I think I'm getting the message. Maybe even LOUD AND CLEAR.

Clearly you never had a 3 year old of your own.

2010-02-10T08:32:00.000-08:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35318008/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/
I read this article last night and just can't stop thinking about this. How on earth did this doctor get immunity from prosecution? Will she keep her license? Is she going to continue endangering children with high doses of ADULT medications based on their parent's reports that they are behaving like ungodly brats? Or in other words, they're acting like THREE YEAR OLDS!

You find me a three-going-on-four year old that doesn't seem hyperactive and or bi-polar and I submit to you that you have found a three-going-on-four year old who is either developmentally delayed, sick, or an absolutely perfect angel who will rain hell-fire and damnation on her parents when she goes through puberty in order to make them pay for the perfect toddler years.

Three-going on-four year olds are emotional! They are famous for being happy one part of the day and distraught the next. Is it even possible to diagnose this kind of illness in a toddler? This is an age where they are confused about the world around them, trying desperately to control their lives and separate their identity from their parent's. I'm no psychiatrist but I know how three-going-on-four year old's behave, and its not pretty. I'd be willing to bet that if I described any one of my children's or niece's or nephew's behavior at this age to a psychiatrist without telling them the age of the child (the article seems clear that the doctor knew this was a very young child, but relied solely on the parent's description of behavior) that they too would diagnose the kid with bi-polar disorder. 4 year olds have good days and bad days, and frankly, the bad days are really bad days.

Maybe I'm out of line even sharing my opinion on this given that I have no experience in the field, but something tells me this doctor behaved recklessly and should not be treating pediatric patients. Its horrifying to think that a child died because of a selfish mother who found a way to work the system and get disability payments while simultaneously exempting herself from even having to try to parent or teach her children to control themselves, and that she was enabled by a licensed mental health practitioner.

SICK, SICK, SICK!

Cavemom tips for finding the perfect house

2010-02-09T19:59:00.000-08:00

We've been renting the past two years here in AZ and we've learned a thing or two about what Cave People want in a house. For starters; we basically want a cave.

Silly?

I think not.

We live in Arizona. The summer heat hits 112 regularly. A dark, mostly windowless cave would probably suit us quite well, especially given Mr. Cave Hair's penchant for daytime sleeping.

In addition, a cave provides sound barriers that a home located adjacent to a main thoroughfare, not far from a freeway on-ramp and a convenience store could really benefit from. You ask what on earth does a main thoroughfare, a freeway on-ramp, and a convenience store have in common with requiring sound barriers? Think police (yes, I am aware that I'm making a generalization about police everywhere my stating that my home's proximity to a convenience store is related to the number of police that go screaming past my house at 2:00am...and I don't care, its a well-informed generalization.)----sirens/speeding/flashing red and blue lights. These things have a tendency to wake sleeping bears, or hairs, or whatever. A couple of times a week I find myself contemplating such things as the intricate melodies of Robert "Tin Tin" Duffy's "Kiss Me With Your Mouth" and wondering why he felt it necessary to explain that it is your MOUTH he wants to be kissed with, as opposed to some other body part? All due to speeding cars and flashing lights and screaming sirens. Sure, they're gone in no time flat, but the wakened Cave Mom is none too quick to return to what was probably a fitful sleep to start with.

Finally, a cave generally has sufficient sub-caves which theoretically would provide sufficient space for entertaining, sleeping, meal preparation, and food storage. While the average house could potentially offer each of these things, the Cavehair's have yet to find just the perfect combination in what would be deemed the "affordable" range.

Of course a cave wouldn't be perfect, there are dirt floors to contend with, and those pesky stalactites hanging from the ceiling...I'm sure Mr. Cavehair would love those just as much as he loved the last chandelier we had. (and by chandelier, I mean the cheap-o brass'n'glass octagonal hanging light that was found in the dining area of the last home we lived in.) Plumbing could be an issue, as could keeping creatures like woolly mammoth's out of the living room. There's also that whole "living on a cliff" thing that I was never really that fond of.

Well, the good news is, we've still got a year and a half in the current abode, its not even time to be looking again yet, but one thing is for sure...THANK HEAVENS WE ONLY RENTED THIS PLACE! (Which has also come with as many positive attributes as negative, primarily the ability for the kids and I to go about our business every day without waking the sleeping Cave Bear.)

Apparently I AM getting Old

2010-02-01T23:07:00.000-08:00

As if not understanding the current context for the word "Dank" isn't enough, I now have 2 gals I welcomed to beehives engaged to be married, and a lady I used to babysit for (when her kids were like...toddlers and babies) is now a grandmother.

Pretty soon I'm going to be referring to Doctors and Lawyers as "young kids".

YIkeS!

The boy who cried wolf, or something akin to that

2010-01-30T11:44:00.000-08:00

Recently Gabriel has suffered the consequences of being reliably disrespectful or naughty. Twice now, he has not been believed when he was not responsible for a negative situation, and has been "found guilty" before full evidence could be reviewed. It makes me sad, but on the other hand, I'm glad that he's learning this now, and not 10 years from now. Perhaps there is hope that he will discover that he must BE trustworthy in order to be trusted.

Two weeks ago as we played at a park, a crying child was escorted to her parent by another child, and the other child explained to the parent that "the boy in the red shirt pushed her and stepped on her because she wouldn't get out of the way." The crying child was small, 4ish. Gabe was wearing a red shirt...he's nearly 7. I really didn't want to believe that he at nearly 7 he would have the lack of self-control and audacity to push and step on a smaller child over whether that child would move or not. It surprised me to think that he would even be interested in playing near a child that young. Nonetheless, at that point, he was the only child in the area that I was aware of that was wearing a red shirt. I yanked him out of the playground, sat him down next to me and began reading him the riot act, as he angrily tried to correct my understanding of the situation (for which he was then told -angrily- do NOT talk back to me!) Then I looked over my shoulder to find a 4ish aged boy in a RED shirt pushing and kicking his way through the playground equipment. I felt so bad for not believing my son. But based on past behavior, it was not out of the realm of possibility that he would have done such a thing, and I jumped to what seemed a logical conclusion. Of course I apologized profusely to my son, and all became well again.

But this week, something else has happened, and its just so disappointing, and frustrating.

As I was folding laundry yesterday afternoon, I realized that a shirt in Gabe's laundry did not belong to him. It was a school uniform shirt, but it was from a store we don't usually shop at, and it was in a size much larger than we have yet purchased for him. Normally, the only way he would come home from school in a different shirt than he left in would be if he had made a trip to the nurse's office for one reason or another, or had spilled something like paint all over himself.

I decided to assume he'd been to the nurse's office and asked him "how'd you end up in the nurse's office last week?" He grunted and said "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Why, what happened?"
"I already told enough people."
"What did you already tell enough people"
"How I ended up in the nurses office"
"Will you please tell me?"
"Fine...three girls kicked me and punched me and through wood chips at me so I had to get a clean shirt."
"Why would three girls do that to you?"
"I don't KNOW!~ They just kept yelling YOU SUCK"
"Were you playing something else first?"
"I already talked about it!"
"You're not in trouble right now, I'm just trying to understand how three girls were kicking and punching and throwing wood chips at you."
"That's all I know."
Well.....daddy was more successful at getting information about the event and as it turns out, a game of tag turned nasty and Gabe ended up in the nurses office asking for an ice pack for his eye, his nose (which he did come home with a skinned nose on Wednesday) and his knee, and then got a clean shirt.
No note or phone call came home this week about any of this, (and we KNOW he had been at the nurse's office because that's the only place to get a clean shirt, which means at least ONE adult knew about this, and Gabe claims that at least 4 adults were told) and we were completely unaware of the situation until I did the laundry and found the shirt not belonging to him. What I find frustrating is that Gabe claims that when he told the adults he told, they all asked the girls what happened, the girls lied about it and then walked away with no consequence. And realistically, it is once again, not out of the realm of possibility that Gabe would have been playing something obnoxious and have stirred up his own trouble and tried to blame it on somebody else. But the fact that (according to him) the episode was brushed off and the girls who clearly injured him (his nose was skinned, it clearly bled) suffered no consequence, because Gabe's reputation is such that the adult's didn't believe his side of the story, is SO FRUSTRATING!

We know Gabe is not perfect, but his behavior has improved so greatly at school this year that I really had believed he had started to build up some trust. We believe his side of the story (to the extent to which he told us everything...and we are certain he omitted as much as possible.) His behavior at home on Wednesday points towards something having happened at school that day. It had actually crossed my mind Wednesday afternoon to ask whether he had been bullied that day, because he was so unusually sullen and deflated. But I didn't ask. And I regret that.

I guess the point is that it makes me sad that my son who is working very hard both at home and at school to prove to those around him that he can and does make good decisions, is still so damaged by his past decisions that its an instant reaction by adults to discount his side of the story. But like I said earlier, I hope that since he is young this will be corrected soon, and that he will be given a chance as he grows older to show himself FIRST to be trustworthy. Because he truly is becoming trustworthy. But I'll admit, it feels like a gigantic leap of faith to extend to him the trust which he was worked so hard to earn.

I thought we were Friends?

2010-01-25T08:26:00.000-08:00

Do you ever get so involved with a story that you begin to feel a fondness not at all unlike friendship with the characters? It happened for me the first time as a child, probably while reading either The Secret Garden, or Little Women, I hated that spoiled rotten Colin but sneaking him out to the garden and telling him to get up and walk sure sounded great, and I really wanted to be Jo's friend so I could convince her she was foolish to ignore Laurie. It's happened a few times since as I've grown older I've attached myself and inserted myself into various stories. I admit it. I think its one of the wonderful things about reading, its a harmless escape into an alternate universe. Its imaginary. Its ok.

But something unique has happened recently, and I'm afraid its really quite foolish. Cave Man and I have been enjoying the show "Long Way Down" (Via Netflix) and I'm afraid I've allowed myself to "make friends" with Ewan McGregor and his good buddy Charley Boorman as they've ridden motorcycles from Scotland to the tip of Africa. Its really quite silly, but I'm laughing at their silly antics like its all an inside joke between the four of us. When Ewan's wife showed up in Malawi, I was so excited for him! And so bummed for poor Charley who never really loved the idea to start with, but was an awfully good sport when it all came down to it. Its the most ridiculous thing ever. Really, EVER.

I've never been the girl to develop a celebrity crush, or to really think much of fame or famous people. Maybe I'm just too practical. What's the point, right? But I will admit, I feel as though I'm on a first name basis with these guys and their crew, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit if they showed up at a family picnic. In fact, I think I would be a bit crushed if any one of them walked past me and didn't recognize me as their long lost friend from their trip to Africa.

Silly, isn't it? I guess even a Cave Mom can surprise herself once in a while. But I think they'd like me, because I I would have karate chopped Dai in the neck when he found his "lost" passport...all in good fun of course ;)

Go ahead, laugh at me, because I'm cracking myself up with this one, but if they showed up on my doorstep asking for a spot of lemonade...you bet I'd make them some. And then I'd ask if they brought a slide show with them, just for old times sake, you know?

Boom Boom Pow

2010-01-23T23:02:00.000-08:00

If we're facebook friends, you know that during Christmas Break we had some excitement in the neighborhood. On more than one occasion, we believed to have heard multiple shots of gunfire. The worst of the events was one night when 8 shots were discharged and they sounded like they were directly behind our home. The fire department located directly behind our home told Sheriff's deputies that the shots sounded like they were fired on their front porch. Sounded about right to us. We looked out (that's a no-no by the way, you're not supposed to look out when you hear gun-fire, you're supposed to call 911 and stay out of windows`-which begs the question, how will you give 911 ANY information AT ALL if you didn't see anything?) didn't see anything, didn't like what we heard, but decided to go back to bed. But I couldn't really get back to sleep.
As I tossed and turned, I realized I was seeing flashing lights coming in through the bedroom window and looked out to see a Deputy scanning the back wall and area adjacent to the street. I thought "oh, nice! apparently it really WAS from right behind us!" he looked around for a little bit and went on his merry way. 15-20 mins later (4:15 in the morning) our door is being banged on! Its Sheriff's Deputies. Apparently one neighbor thought the gunfire had come FROM our home. I guess its a good thing CaveMan hadn't cut himself shaving or anything, because I'm pretty sure the only reason they didn't ask to come in was because he didn't have blood on him.
Anyways, that was all nerve-racking enough, but then on three other occasions, we believed we heard random gunfire. I was beginning to feel very unsafe, and you can see by the time of this post, I'm not sleeping too well these days.
However.....
We are 99.9% certain we now have the mystery of random gunfire solved.
As it turns out, there's a drunk dude with a drunk girlfriend who live just across the street from the Fire Department. They apparently have a penchant for fireworks.
This afternoon we thought we heard gunfire again, looked out again (I know, I know!) and low and behold, there were these two brainiacs setting off fireworks in their backyard! (Fireworks are not only annoying at 3:00am, they are also illegal in the State of Arizona).
This would explain why the Deputies never found any shell casings when we (Cave People and Fire Fighters) all KNEW the "gunfire" was directly behind our home (the drunk dude lives directly across the street from the Fire House, which in turn is directly across the street from our house.)
Even though setting off fireworks is one of those things we would normally not call the cops about, we did today. I don't think they'll be setting fireworks off anymore, that is assuming they were sober enough to remember that they've received a ticket for doing so.
Knowing now that the "gunfire" was most likely just fireworks, I feel a little silly for getting so aggravated. I feel like I should be able to tell the difference between gunfire and fireworks. But even Cave Man who had been on a firing range this week thought it was gunfire this afternoon, so I guess I'll forgive myself. But I do feel better now, and safer. Now if I can only successfully retrain my body to go to sleep sometime before 12:00am! Because lets face it, no matter how late I stayed up, it never stopped anybody from doing anything that made me jump at my own shadow! (which happened on two occasions during Christmas Break as well.)
Next step is to laugh at it. Probably tomorrow.

okay, we'll take a stab at it

2010-01-16T22:34:00.000-08:00

First of all, yes, I know, I need to change my background. I'm busy. I will do it. But not right now.
Its been a whirlwind of a week! A very happy whirlwind, but a whirlwind nonetheless.

Occasionally life presents you with opportunity you never even knew you wanted. Sometimes you try something new and it goes well, so you keep up with it a bit because you like it, but you don't really expect much out of it other than your own enjoyment. Then an opportunity shows itself, and you really start to wonder, "how did I get here?" (Anybody else singing a Talking Head's song now?)

I am currently experiencing one of those moments in life when I ask myself "how did I get here?"
And the answer goes something like this:
I walked into the neighborhood public school to enroll Gabriel in Kindergarten, something didn't sit right with me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew he was not going to attend that school. We went to my inlaw's home, a postcard was on their kitchen counter for a charter school. I looked at it, thought it might be worth checking into. We visited the school and decided it would be a better option than the public school, and enrolled him. The second week of school Gabe brought home a flyer for a TaeKwonDo class after school. We decided to enroll him. He liked it well enough. We began taking him to the evening classes occasionally, and then to a fight-class. JP and I watched the classes through the window. I really wanted to be inside learning what Gabe was learning. We hated the gym we had joined. It was glitzy, shiny, unfriendly. It wasn't us. We wanted to quit, but didn't want to sit on our butts with no exercise options. We did the math and figured out we could quit the gym and join karate. I took a class and LOVED it. Then JP decided he wanted to join too. A new school year begins, 20+ new kids enroll in the afterschool class, the instructor's need help, I've quit my job in the meantime and there is no reason why I cannot help once a week after school. A semester passes and I'm asked if I would consider taking on teaching another class at another location.
Now JP and I are opening a part time taekwondo school this coming Tuesday. With that we begin an internship that leads to instructor certifications which are desirable for future opportunities.

So although the path is quite clear to me now, if you would have told me a year ago that I would be opening a Taekwondo school I would have laughed at you! But I feel totally at home with this. It actually feels like the natural progression. I guess its just the opportunity I never knew I was looking for.

Cavemom confessions-Bad Parenting

2010-01-11T08:27:00.000-08:00

A few years back, in an effort to improve the tone of our home and encourage better behavior from our son Mr. Cavehair and I decided to try the reward system. The punishment system wasn't working with a 3 year old cave-child who was wild as a hyena, and we were exhausted. We quickly discovered that offering a reward for good behavior instead of punishment for bad behavior turned out a generally more desirable outcome. However...it has backfired on us. BIG TIME.

Almost 4 years later we have discovered that we have created a child who cares to do nothing positive unless it involves a reward of some sort. He bargains, he negotiates. He actually has said "If I take my shower in only 8 minutes will you take me to Target to get a Lego Star Wars set?" (The answer is clearly NO, and he's never been rewarded quite THAT ridiculously, but still he's tried.) We created a child who wants to know what's in it for him before he decides whether he'll cooperate or not.

That was brought to a swift halt the week of Christmas. After 6 weeks of horrible, no good, very bad days leading up to Christmas, we could take no more. It was time for clear consequences. The first one came in the form of a letter from Santa explaining why Santa could not bring the requested Nintendo DSi. Santa brought the remote control helicopter, because cave-boy's behavior had been excellent at school, but Santa did NOT bring the DSi because cave-boy's behavior at home had been bad enough to nearly put him on the naughty list. Santa called for a drastic improvement in the behavior at home towards cave-boy's mother and father should cave-boy expect something like a DSi in the future. Then Mom and Dad stepped in with a new way of saying what was expected and what the outcome would be. Whereas once we would have said something like "if you eat your dinner, clear your place, and get your shower quickly, you can earn 30 mins of wii" we are now saying "After dinner, the family is playing wii, however, if you do not eat your dinner, clear your place, or take your shower quickly, you will not play with the rest of the family."
Nothing about what we ultimately do is changing, but Caveboy's response is changing.
So far so good. We're almost 3 weeks into it and we're seeing improvement. But what I don't know is how much of the improved behavior is that Christmas is no longer on the visible horizon and so all the angst about it is gone for now. I guess only time and perserverance will tell, but I sure hope its working the way we think it is because I do not want to be the one responsible for raising a man who will not do anything for anybody unless there's something in it for him. That's no way to live.

Butt Labels-The Joke's on You

2010-01-08T08:39:00.000-08:00

Nothing screams "I wanted something, ANYTHING, with this brand's label on it SO bad, but all I could afford was this lousy sweatsuit" more than sweat-pants with butt labels. Plus, it also screams I DESPERATELY want you to know that I am wearing this label. Because, lets face it, a cute pair of shades sports only a tiny little graphic someplace that most people will miss, and if they don't see my label, they won't know what awesome taste I have! So it makes sense that stamping a label across your butt is the best way to ensure that all around are made aware of your exquisite taste in label purchasing.

But picture this:

A woman with a tiny, but extremely saggy butt goes walking by. The butt is adorned in full-coverage fashion with the word "Juicy". You say to your teenage daughter (fascetiously) "why do you wish you had 'Juicy' stamped across your butt so bad?" to which she replies "my SAGGY butt? Its 'Juicy' alright! Ripe and prime for pickin!'" (underwear wedgie) Your other teenager overhears only part of what has been being said and says "are you guys talking about farts?"

Well, the atmosphere erupted in uproarious laughter when it was decided that the term "Juicy" was some kind of announcement as to the condition of the last gaseous expulsion from the very behind it adorned.

Go ahead, throw those sweats in the trash now, even if you just got them for Christmas, because really, the next time you wear them in public, the joke's on you!

Bring it on!

2010-01-04T12:08:00.000-08:00

Here it is, our new decade! I remember thinking 2010 sounded SOOOOO far away. Well, I would say 2020 sounds far too off in the future to even consider, but I realized just the other day that I will still have two teenagers in the house come 2020, so it can't be that far away! (Nor could it make me THAT old!)

I'm not one who gets too excited about New Year's Resolutions, but I have to admit, I've had quite a bit on my mind the past few days, and it all seems kind of resolution-y, so I guess I'm making resolutions this year. My thoughts have turned to the efficiency of my home, the way I parent, the activities we're involved in, etc.
My schedule has totally and completely changed with the new semester, new year, new decade, etc. Looking at those changes I see some opportunity to improve the way I do some things and consolidate a few things. I'm looking forward to Monday's now being my free day instead of my crazy day, but I still don't know how I'm going to deal with 8:00am church schedule and a husband who doesn't get home from work until after 6:00am on Sunday mornings. I'll go ahead and say it, I've seriously considered not going. I do NOT want to go alone with the kids every week. But I also know that not going in no way solves my problem. I'll still be alone with the kids, just not at church.

Our Christmas this year was a totally different kind of Christmas than we've celebrated in the past. We had about 8 days of Christmas (no I'm not confused about which holiday we celebrate, just happened to have that much Christmas this year.) spending every day with family members from one side or the other. Gifts were fewer and smaller, but time with family was increased abundantly. My favorite part of Christmas this year was the 4 days in the mountains of California, blanketed in snow, fire place burning, fun games, good food, wonderful time spent with loved ones. We were so grateful to be able to accept the invitation and join my family. The worst part of Christmas vacation was also in the mountains where JP was sicker than a dog for all but the very first day. He got in a good romp in the snow and then proceeded to the basement where he stayed for the next 2 and a half days. I felt so bad because we were having so much fun and he was just sitting in the basement with a blanket and a TV. Of course, since we don't have cable at home any more, it was probably a nice relaxing treat and being sick gave him an acceptable reason to hibernate with the cable. The funniest part of Christmas was when my mom said the funniest/most accidentally inappropriate thing a mother in law has ever said to her son in law. I may blog about it at Valentine's day. We'll see. I *think* I have permission to write it down, but it was a doozy, so I want to be sure. (mom, do I?)
We also had a good time at the annual family Christmas bowling party here in AZ, and enjoying a casual dinner and impromptu (grand)children's production of the Nativity, and visiting the Christmas lights at the Mesa temple. I love the life size nativity they have on the grounds, it seems so authentic to me.

So now we're looking forward to the new year and whatever it has in store for us. Already some things we thought were in store appear not to be, but other opportunities may make themselves known. I'm actually kind of loving the "unknown" that the new year brings with it. Last year's unknowns were largely positive, so we feel hopeful that this year's will be as well.

Now, up with my butt, off the computer to do something a little more productive.

Lisa

Stars were gleaming, shepherds singing, Mary's eyes shot laser beams

2009-12-25T22:00:00.001-08:00

So Easy A Cave Mom Can Do It

2009-12-14T08:00:00.000-08:00

I admit, now that I'm looking at this close-up, there are a few things I would do differently next time, but I still wanted to share this because it was so EASY!

If you've ever tried making a gingerbread house with the traditional royal icing and candy, you probably recall that the icing takes forever to dry, all kinds of supports are needed to keep your house standing while the icing dries, and the candy is ridiculously expensive if you buy enough variety to really do it up cute.

The kids really wanted a gingerbread house this year, and I really wanted a successful gingerbread house at long last. (I can't tell you how many times I have tried and failed. Royal icing and I get along great with flat cookies...not so much for 3D structures.)

I realized that we never actually EAT our gingerbread. It sits there until its thoroughly stale and nasty anyways, so why not use hot glue? The hot glue was as close to an instant bond as you'll get with something full of sugar and grease. While it didn't bond as well as I would have liked it too, it certainly bonded well enough to get my structure standing. Although next time I will still make a recipe of royal icing to fill it in and make it pretty after I've got it glued. (I didn't have enough sugar on hand and didn't want to go buy any for this project.)

When it came time to decorate my little house, I saw I had some homemade wheat thins on hand that looked nice and rustic and shingle-y, so I started gluing them on the roof only to discover I was about 1/3 short of what I needed to complete the roof. But guess what? Marshmallow fondant makes a nice snow-laden roof, and I happened to have a small amount left over from this cute thingy I made a couple weeks back. (please excuse the cornstarch/kitchen tool laden counter.)

So with the help of a rolling pin, my fingers, some cookie cutters, and a steak knife, I got the rest of that cut out and put on my little house.

When all was said and done, this house, which I think is at least as cute as one you can make from a pre-purchased kit cost less than $5.00. WAY less.

Of course now that I've got one under my belt, I've got lots of ideas for really doing it up next year, but hey I think this turned out pretty decent for my very first actually STANDING home-made gingerbread house.

And since it was so easy a Cave Mom can do it, you can too!

A little Christmas Miracle

2009-12-13T09:55:00.000-08:00

After a crazy week of temper tantrums, spontaneous crying, wringing of hands, gnashing of teeth and all other manner of pre-Christmas childhood angst, I came downstairs this morning to find Gabriel reading a Christmas story to Lily.

It was so quiet, so happy, so friendly. When he finished the book Lily told him "You're a good reader Gabe" and he beamed ear to ear.

Ahhhhh, it warms a mom's soul to see her children happy and content, being kind to one another.

When the kids ask "Mom, what do you want for Christmas" I (predictably) answer "for my children to behave for one full day!" (you all say that same thing, right?). Well, it felt like Christmas came this morning, and I told them so. Of course they went off looking to see if Santa had arrived and insisted that the single package I currently have laying under the tree was a certain sign of Santa having visited. They were disappointed when I told them that was already there, but what was curious to me was that they didn't seem the least bit disappointed that there was only a single item under the tree! Of course Christmas day will be a little more abundant, but it made me feel good that we don't have to go crazy to make them happy. Whatever Christmas day brings, I feel certain it will be joy and contentment. (now if only we can keep the kids at school quiet and not swapping "what did Santa bring you?" stories....ugh.)

A Man's guide to avoid giving quite possibly the worst gift ever

2009-12-08T21:19:00.000-08:00

**if you're just reading this today, and it seems perhaps a little too close to this, please note my publish date and the fact that I've never even heard of Wasatch Woman Magazine before today...although, Boy do I have an idea for a spoof! (Wasatch/Sasquatch...we'll go there another time.)

Nothing says "Hey babe, I love you, but you're starting to look a little too much like a primate for my tastes" better than a gift certificate to the Dr's office to have them shine a pretty laser at her chin several times over the next few months. That rubberband snapping against the cheek feeling will only last a moment and she can go about her day with only a little bit of red irritation. Doesn't that sound delightful?

I mean, don't get me wrong, a little well placed laser treatment really could be a good thing, but this kind of gift giving could get a man a swift kick in the family jewels. Dying to give her a "spa" treatment? Then purchase a gift certificate and let her chose her own pampering. Who knows, maybe she'll get those unsightly hairs lased off anyways, but at least you won't be guilty of causing her to believe you find her grotesque.

Here are a few more items no man should ever consider purchasing as a Christmas gift for the woman he loves:

Vacuum cleaner. It doesn't matter if its the $60.00 model, or the $460.00 model. No matter how badly your lady wants a new vacuum cleaner, this is never an appropriate gift. This is the kind of thing that should come out of the regular everyday household budget. Reserve your gift giving budget for romantic gestures and items which lack necessity.

Ski bib. Its true YOU may think your wife looks beautiful in anything she puts on, but I promise you, given the choice, she will never willingly choose to look more like the stay-puff-marshmallow man than any other thing. (except maybe a wookie)

New Tires or Brakes. Its probably better to just agree ahead of time that you will not be exchanging gifts this year than to pretend that such things are your gift to her for Christmas. If you do go the "Merry Christmas babe, I got you new tires so you don't have a blow out on the freeway while you've got all 8 kids in the car" route, may I suggest you at least purchase the lifetime free balancing and rotation package?

Don't bother to tell her what you "wanted" to get her, if it is significantly more costly than what you really got her unless A: the item you really wanted to get her is currently out of stock and thus unavailable for purchase, and B: you can actually afford to purchase the item when it becomes available again and you have plans to do so. Also, if she asks you for a trip to Hawaii or other exotic location do not add the phrase "hopefully some day" to the answer of "no" unless you have started a savings account and put at least $10.00 in it.

Electronics. Unless she asks specifically for a certain piece of technology, its always safer to not buy her anything that may be misinterpreted to actually be a gift for yourself. If she's super techy, she'll let you know which piece of equipment she wants. If she's not, you're probably wasting your money on a gadget she has no idea what to do with, and no interest in learning how to operate it. The one possible exception may be an upgraded camera or video camera, so long as she can open it and use it right away without having to read an instruction book for hours before beginning.

"As seen on TV"...honestly, she probably never wanted a Chia Pet, the Strapper, or a Ped-egg. A Snuggie may be a possible exception, but you'll want to check with her first. Chances are good she either thinks the Snuggie is the greatest invention ever, or the stupidest, you take your chances on her response if you don't ask.

Its too dangerous

2009-12-08T07:57:00.000-08:00

I'm wondering just how much of the Christmas story my three year old knows. We actually put out the Nativity in a "reachable" area this year, due to lack of space and the kids being old enough not to play with it. But not being allowed to touch the figurines has not stopped Lily from imagining various scenarios in which they are involved.

Sunday afternoon, I was sitting on the couch, and she was standing at the side table looking at the figurines and I hear her mutter under her breath "I will kill you" and then (still quietly, but not muttered, and in a feminine voice) "don't go! Its too dangerous!" There was alot of other muttering and argument taking place before and after that little exchange, but I was trying so hard to listen that I couldn't hear a thing.

I'm pretty sure she hasn't yet heard the story of the flight into Egypt, but she's definitely got me wondering.

The revolt has begun!

2009-12-07T19:56:00.000-08:00

I'm beginning to think that this small wave of people who are sick and tired of being PC in order to please a very few who cannot be pleased is starting to grow! Our governor said "No more 'Holiday' Tree" and continued on to say that she believes it is politically correct to call something what it is, therefore, the holiday tree and the holiday candle display have resumed being a Christmas Tree and a Menorrah. Old Navy reportedly has used the phrase "Merry Christmas" in a national advertising campaign, and today, my son came home from his publicly funded school with a worksheet he had completed about SinterKlause, and the Norwegian CHRISTMAS tradition of putting candy in children's shoes. The worksheet actually said Christmas on it, spelled correctly.

I LOVE it!

And you know what? I'm also ok with him doing a worksheet on Chanukah, and another one on Kwanzaa. I'm just thrilled that they aren't completely ignoring the Christian tradition in favor of appeasing those who incorrectly believe that the government's job is to protect atheists from being exposed to religion.

Gimme Gimme Gimme

2009-12-06T21:46:00.000-08:00

Anybody else sick of hearing this yet? What are you doing to curb the gimme's at your house?

The TRUE meaning of HoHoHo

2009-12-03T16:30:00.000-08:00

Lily is only 3 and a half, and has a very rich imaginary life. The girl spends more time pretending than living in our adult version of reality, and she's quite happy there! But there is one area of pretend that she doesn't seem quite sold on.

Santa.

Lily has ALOT of questions about Santa. Why is he at the mall? Where did he get a computer from? What do elfs do? Why would elfs do that? Why isn't Santa helping his elfs? How come Santa is at the mall AND at Bass Pro shop?

If you saw the look on her face and the wheels turning in her head you'd see that she's giving this a whole lot of thought for a kid who's not yet four.

But mom and dad are keeping up the pretend. We love it! And she wants to love it too. I can tell she really wants to buy the story.

This afternoon during lunch she started asking more questions about Santa, so we turned the tables on her and said "why don't you tell us what YOU know about Santa." She answered "well, he says 'HoHoHo'" and JP asked her what does HoHoHo mean? To which she answered "I think it means quit your crying."

The neighbor probably thinks we're raging racists...

2009-12-01T18:50:00.000-08:00

We have a neighbor who doesn't come out of his house very much. He is Chinese, and he doesn't speak very much English. When we do see him, we always wave and say hello, and he waves back and goes his merry way. But tonight, the boy Gabe decided it was time to have a conversation.

So, he saw the neighbor come out of his house, he quickly parked his bike in the middle of the street, went running up to the man, and said ( I kid you not) "Do you know how to make Chinese food?" and ran away.

What I'm sure the neighbor does not understand, is that Gabriel is a big time Chinese food fan! He LOVES Chinese food with all his heart, and he's been trying to figure out for months how to get our Chinese neighbor to come over and make us Chinese food. He actually thought he was being a friendly neighbor, but we are so embarrassed!

Just like Vikings, only they walked

2009-11-30T20:53:00.000-08:00

It's been a fairly long spell since I've been to Primary. Since the time a former Bishop came to the knowledge that at 35 years old I had spent 16 years serving in Primary, I've been given a furlough of sorts. I admit, I've really enjoyed adult lessons, adult conversation, adult perspective. But what I realized this past Sunday as I substitute taught the six and seven year olds, I also miss the humor the kids provide!

Here's my short "Overheard in the Ward" style list:

"Does everybody know who the Pioneers were?"--"Yeah, they were just like Vikings, only they walked."

"Who can tell me what the Bishop does with our tithing after we've given it to him?"--"First he checks it to make sure its all there and nobody stole any."/ "He takes it STRAIGHT to Jesus...or does Jesus come to get it?"/ "He uses it to get stuff."

"Is anybody allergic to any kind of food?" (food is allowed for an object lesson, and an object lesson we had.)--"No, I'm not allergic to any food, just my brother."

"My lips taste like an apple-pear"--"What? Your lips taste like a black bear?"

"His nickname (middle) is Thomas? I thought he was named Dave" (he's really named Gabe).

"What is Christmas really about?"--"Its about Jesus, but we get all the presents we want."

"Mary, Mary, these kids are gettin' WILD!" (I thought to myself as singtime drew near an end and I realized I would have to keep them interested for another hour all by myself after they sang 'Mary, Mary, look at the child" one last time.)

Is this a good choice? Or a bad choice?

2009-11-24T21:04:00.000-08:00

If you don't know ChefTess, its time to get yourself in the know. She is a little bit-o-kooky, and a whole lot-o-evil genius. She is also an actual, real-life friend of mine, which makes life both fun and delicious.

So Tess does this thing she calls Evil Think Tank. She gets together with a friend, brings with her all kinds of crazy good ingredients and a basic goal for the day, such as "come up with the most purely evil tart ever." And then the baking begins. Tuesday morning I was ever so lucky and got to be an evil thinker in this week's think tank. Man! did we have fun. And lest you think that "Evil" is just a word we're throwing about far too casually, consider this: I ran off to the produce market to buy some last minute ingredients. My bill came to $6.66, Tess has picture proof of this.

So anyways, we made some seriously evil tarts (check out Tess's blog this week (CheffTessBakeresse), she's not only doing tutorials, but a giveaway which includes a cooking lesson for any Phoenix area readers and a wonderful tart pan like I've never seen, very heavy duty and totally and completely non-stick!) and of course we had to taste them. Truth in advertising, right? So as we're sitting at the table, nibbling (and I do mean nibbling, we are frankly a little afraid of the calorie count in these tarts) we serve a slice up to miss Lily. She dives right in, and then about 3 bites into it says "Is this a bad choice? Or a good choice?" To which Tess and I both answered, "That's a very good question."

Holiday shopping 6 year old boy style

2009-11-18T14:48:00.000-08:00

Day 1 "Mom! check out these really awesome laser dolphins!"
Day 2 "Mom! we went to the Holiday Gift Shop today and here is my list of things to buy tomorrow"
(note list includes 1 item for mom, 0 items for dad, 2 items for said 6 year old, 1 item for sister #3, 0 items for sisters #1 and #2, 1 item for 1 grandfather, 1 item for 1 cousin, 0 items for any remaining family members.)
Day 3 "Mom! I saw something I really wanted so I changed my mind and didn't get you a necklace so I could get what I wanted. Isn't this snake cool!?"

When I asked him if he thought putting back a gift for me so he could get himself a 3rd item was a good choice, he said with complete sincerity "I guess I should have put back Lily's gift instead."

I didn't fail, but thanks for thinking I should be an expert by now

2009-11-15T17:56:00.000-08:00

This weekend was Tae Kwondo testing again, and this time I had several kids that I help to teach at Gabe's school testing for their first belt. It was so fun to see them come in so excited and curious about how it would all go. It was neat to feel a tiny bit of "ownership" over their success.

But you know we never leave one of these things without a story!

We were outside warming up, I was having some of the kids with more advanced belts run the white belts through their routines, getting stretched, practicing their kicks, blocks, forms, etc, we were having a good time and accomplishing something while the other adults were getting the room set up for testing. The boys were really into it (I didn't have any girls this time) and weren't really paying too much attention to the other adults around them, they were in their own world.

We went inside to begin testing, and one of the students noticed the black-belt panel seated at the front of the room (keep in mind he's only ever met one black belt, John, the main instructor) and he notices that except for the parents in the room, the very large majority of adults in the room were black belts.

With a very worried look, he comes to me and says quietly, "Miss Lisa?"-I answered "Yes?" "Miss Lisa, how many times have you FAILED this test?!" I answered "none....whyyyyyyyyyyyyy?" His answer-"Well then WHY are you still a green belt!?"--apparently he assumed that all adults were black belts, but fortunately, I did get to test for an advancement, and it was fun to show him that the adults have to earn their belts just the same way the kids do. In fact, that's one of the things I love, we all wear the same uniform, we all do the same things. Nobody's special, nobody's different. We all start from the beginning, and that's good.

As it turns out, I've got miracles, 4 of them.

2009-11-12T07:34:00.000-08:00

Periodically you've all read me whine about my weight, my futile attempts at losing any (remember the 3 weeks of not a 1/2 calorie more than 1200 plus 4times a week hour long cardio workout that resulted in 0.5 lbs lost?), and you've probably said to yourself the same thing I've said to myself, "your just not trying hard enough! I see all those food picture you post, you're obviously a pig!"

Well, after a certain amount of trying everything you know you're supposed to do (eat right, exercise, don't overeat, etc.) and it still doesn't work, the logical thing is to go to the doctor and find out if you're actually doing things right or not. So I did.

Turns out, I am doing things right, and I *should* be losing wieght, but my body really, really, REALLY wants to be lazy and not turn on its metabolism in the mornings when I get up. Like that's so hard, to just flip the switch that says "ok body, time to burn calories!", but apparently its too hard for my body, because one of the chemicals that's supposed to turn that switch decided to stop working. And, as luck would have it, I found a doctor who did her thesis on this particular chemical in the body. After linking together my weight, my history of gestational diabetes, some "unwanted hair" (which after doing a little research on the internet...turns out I have alot more "unwanted hair" than I realized! LOL I figured everybody shaved their toes and had the random hair growing out the side of their thigh, what can I say.) and the crazy "ladies days" for which I had surgery last year, she said "how many pregnancies have you had again?" I answered 4, she said "regardless of outcome?" I said "I have 4 children", she said "wow, I'm shocked you have any children at all, its very uncommon for somebody with your condition to have a successful pregnancy." she proceeded to tell me that I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and that I would need medication to correct my weight. As it turns out, one of the symptoms of PCOS is insulin resistance, which creates a cyclical blood sugar/fat creation situation, which means, I am fat. BUT, we get to deal with that, and should be able to correct that, but what just flabbergasts me is the fact that my 4 children are so improbable. And it makes me feel a little weird now when we're having a rough day. I guess I have not appreciated my children very well, I definitely took being able to have them 100% for granted. So, with new eyes, which are still a little blury from disbelief, I see them now as some sort of miracle in my life, for which I ought to be more grateful, four times over.

Happy Veteran's Day

2009-11-10T22:45:00.000-08:00

Apparently Veteran's Day is actually supposed to be Veterans Day, plural, not possessive. But I like it as a possessive. But here's a question JP asked the other night (as he looked at his calendar and realized that once again, just like all the other years, he'll be working all day on Veteran's day) "If the secretaries get Veterans Day off, why don't the Veterans get Secretary's day off?"

I must be living in the Twilight Zone

2009-11-10T14:23:00.000-08:00

Ok, well, yeah, actually that "Twilight" too (Gilbert is Ms. Meyer's hometown, ya know) and the buzz of activity over New Moon around these parts is getting a little silly. But what I meant was, I have seen the strangest things the past 24 hours.

I saw Stephanie Neilsen at Trader Joe's yesterday. She looked sad, I was across the room from her and felt no discomfort over noticing her there, but then I had to walk past her to leave the store. I don't think she wanted to be noticed, as she kept her head down. I don't think I would have said anything to her, but I would have smiled like I would at anybody else I pass in public, but it was kind of weird for me wondering, "does she want to be left alone, talked too, is it worse for people to notice or not notice?" I have no idea. I wonder how she feels about all the strangers who have aligned themselves with her in her life. Does she like it? Or is it weird and she wishes they'd go live their own lives? I wonder.

Then off to WalMart where I kid you not, I saw a man in his 70's wearing a dirty braided pony-tail all the way to the small of his back, levis, cuffed sort of greaser style, suspenders, logging boots, and a TOP HAT!!! The top hat was painted up Guns'n'roses style. I really would like to know his story, where he came from, why he wears a top hat, etc. It was really a site you'd have to see to fully appreciate. His female companion was much younger and quite a treat herself, I might add.

My son told his teacher she has leeches and needs to see a doctor about that, my daughter proclaimed she is a "hog-pig".

The orangutans at the zoo actually pulled poo out of their butts (we're talking like a pasta extruder folks, not kidding) and placed it on the platform they were sitting on. (it would have fallen to the ground 20 ft below where they never go if they'd just left it alone.)

The parking lot of the zoo vs the parking lot at the Desert Botanical Gardens are like two entirely different worlds, even though they are next to each other. The one is mini-vans, thumping music, and kids darting in and out of parking lanes like its a playground. The other is german-engineering, Wagner, and sun-screen.

There was other weird stuff today too, but I can't remember it all. I must be living in the part of the Twilight Zone where you forget what you saw because it was too strange to remember.

I remembered the other thing that was funny! I saw the Chandler High Golf team riding a short bus to state finals...lol

Monsters by Gabe

2009-11-05T14:01:00.001-08:00

Scary monsters scar by supris at holuwen. Spooky monsters friton pepl rile eesy at nit. weird monsters can hav lots uv eiballs.

I love this story.

The Best Halloween Picture Ever

2009-11-02T19:47:00.000-08:00

was apparently lost in the "formatting" limbo when the camera decided to go on the fritz. grrrrrr
It was of Lily in her mermaid costume (let it be known that she muttered under her breath with mild disgust when I was finished sewing it "Its a fat mermaid") sitting on a pumpkin, fanning her tail behind her in a classic mermaid pose. It was SO cute! and its lost.

Here is the GTV2003, Sooper "G" edition Robot though! (and his pumpkin)

Veteran's Day

2009-11-01T19:23:00.000-08:00

I changed my background for the month of November just to be a little "in your face" about the fact that it is Veteran's day on the 11th of this month. No matter what your feelings about the current war, there are certain liberties we as American's absolutely enjoy because people volunteered to put their lives on the line when no other clear option was available. On Nov. 11th thank a vet.

If you want to thank a vet and engage in some shopping, Overstock.com is partnering with what just may be my favorite charity, the Wounded Warrior Project. What could be better? Excellent deals, and an opportunity to support an organization that provides necessary services to the men and women who have been injured in combat.

And if you wanted an excuse to eat birthday cake this month, go ahead and make a cake for your favorite United States Marine as he celebrates his corp's 234th birthday on November 12th.

Handicapped Parking

2009-10-29T08:01:00.000-07:00

Is there a new rule that I wasn't made aware of that says "No Parking in a Handicapped Zone without placards UNLESS you are in an Elementary School parking lot...then park wherever you feel like"?

Fun and Exciting

2009-10-28T09:16:00.000-07:00

One thing in life that I feel like I am missing out on, (and I feel that way because I am impatient and have a hard time "waiting my turn") is travel. The idea of visiting every place I can imagine takes hold of my imagination, and doesn't let go too easily. I want to see it all! And I want my children to see the places I loved visiting as a child. We live in the Grand Canyon state...we should probably take a trip to the Grand Canyon. I love visiting the local sights, the ruins, the hills, the trails, I want to see Oman, Korea, Sydney, Vietnam. Pretty much the only place that doesn't spike my interest too much is Italy. I have no idea why I don't care about Italy...JP says I don't like Italian food...maybe that has something to do with it. (For the record, I do like Italian food, but not Olive Garden, that's as Italian as Taco Hell is Mexican.)

So I found a writing gig for Examiner.com (you may have noticed the button on my side bar, click it to see my articles). I took the Mesa, AZ Sightseeing gig. I really expected it to just be very localized, I thought I would just write about what's to do in Mesa, AZ. I felt really happy to do that. It seemed like the perfect excuse to find new things to do and take my family all around town so I could write about what to do in Mesa. What I didn't expect going in, was all the contacts I would make with people in the travel industry, in the know in their own towns (the Santa Fe, New Mexico travel Examiner has some great articles, she almost makes me want to try New Mexico one more time before deciding forever and always that New Mexico is an evil state.)
In addition, because Examiner.com pretty much required me to voluntarily (like that?) sign up for twitter, I have found lots and lots of FREE things to do in Mesa in the next couple of weeks. Who knew?

I had no idea when I replied to a Craig's List ad for a paid writing gig that the result would be an answer to my desire to find ways for my family to enjoy some of life and to get out of the grind a little.

The pay for Examiner seems to be somewhere about a penny a click. That's not alot. But even after just one week, I can see that the rewards from making contacts not just in my community, but around the entire US (when will it become the world?) are going to be invaluable.

I'm excited.

Also, Examiner is in 120 cities, not all of them "large"...so if you think you'd like to become an Examiner, please let me know so I can refer you. There is a special way to do the referral, and I get $50.00 if they offer you the gig, so it would mean alot to me if you'd let me refer you. I think most of you can put a sentence together, so, why not see if its something for you? There are lots and lots and lots of topics to choose from, and if there is not currently an Examiner for a topic you are passionate about, you can suggest a topic! So if budget meal planning is your thing, suggest it. If special education is your thing, suggest it! If traveling by donkey is your thing, you can see if you can find some readers for that too.

Anyways, I just wanted to fill you all in on this, because I'm loving it.

Tis the Season

2009-10-26T07:05:00.000-07:00

Since we're all about the spooky things in life, I suppose I may have brought this on myself, but the nightmares this month...I'm done.

Every morning I am waking up exhausted from having been fired by bosses I had 10 years ago, arguing with family members, discovering I was about to become a grandparent before 40, being attacked by snakes, haunted by 40 gallon barrel's of potato pearls, etc.

The bags under my eyes are not pretty. I have never been so tempted to take the kids to school still wearing my pajamas. A donut sounds really good.

To Be Fair...

2009-10-24T08:48:00.001-07:00

I received this in my in-box today in regards to my post about JoAnn Fabric and Crafts.

I'm all about being fair and considering other perspectives. Apparently I was mistaken and forgot that it is MY responsibility as the shopper to make sure I get friendly service. My bad.

"Anonymous said...

Maybe if you shoppers were a little nicer workers wouldn't be the way they are, looks like you walk in looking for something to complain about"

My Sincerest Apologies

2009-10-22T08:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. Cave Hair,

I owe you an apology.
When we did this-

You were probably never expecting to wake up to this-

Is there really anything to say other than "I'm sorry?"

There's a reason why we call ourselves Clan of th Cave Hair.

(to all of you taking the before and after dare last week, I win.)

I'm in a hurry, lets do "Wordless Wednesday"...why not?

2009-10-21T08:07:00.000-07:00

Creeeeeeepin me out....with some musik musik

2009-10-20T06:00:00.000-07:00

JP and I have been having fun all month posting creepy picks of the day for seasonally appropriate music. (Some might call it Halloween, but JP prefers Helloween...its that special time of year when we can let our inner goth out)

Of course we have enjoyed the usual picks, "This Is Halloween" both the original and a spooky Marilyn Manson version (does it get more?) and "Every Day is Halloween" by good ol' Ministry, but we've found some other fun, weird, offbeat, bizarre, and just plain stupid tunes too!

My fave so far is this one:

Don't you just love the creepy buzzy organ and the wailing Wailers? My kids can't get enough of this song either, in fact one night last week, they begged to hear it just one more time during dance party time before bed, they had already heard it 4 times in a row. I agreed to play it one more time and told them "OK, one more time, run around, be crazy, do whatever you want for 3 more minutes, then its bedtime." Ummmm, lets just say that next time I will omit the phrase "do whatever you want." Before I knew it, they were both wearing nothing but their underwear and jumping over the couch. I had no idea that do whatever you want meant strip to your drawers and jump over furniture! I thought maybe it meant chase each other, do jumping jacks, maybe even play freeze tag. Now I know!

Here is the STUPIDEST song I've found so far...seriously, I don't know which is lamer, the chipmunks, or the rapping. Either way, it gets my vote for being next only to the Milk Shake Song, and My Humps for Stupidest Song Ever in the Entire Universe. (even stupider than the One Eyed One Horned Flying Purple People Eater---which I LOVED as a child.)It made the creepy picks list because its about a witch doctor, and witch doctors are creepy.

Get your kids over here before you click though, because they will love it.

I need your Help

2009-10-19T07:23:00.000-07:00

We got invited to an adults only Halloween Party. Last year we didn't go because we didn't want to go hang out with a bunch of drunks, this year we're going, not because we want to hang out with drunks, but because we've used our inability to stop being judgmental as an excuse not to socialize, and not socializing, well, we're already kind of socially stunted to start with.

Anyways, here's where I need your help.

The theme is "Dead Celebrities"

I do not want to go as Farrah, Anna-Nicole, or any other boobtastic blonde. Other than that, if she's dead, and a celebrity, its fair game.

Who should I go as?

Major Meltdown Avoided

2009-10-18T08:25:00.000-07:00

JP's work schedule has really been taking its toll on our family. For the majority of our marriage he has not had a "normal" work schedule, I guess if I say "normal" then he has never in our marriage had a "normal" work schedule, but for a period of time he did have one that was totally live-able. But the one he's been working for the past two years has been really hard. He's gone all night 4 days a week, and then home 3 days a week, trying to join in on a normal daytime routine. His mind, body, and spirit have suffered. His wife, children, and home have suffered. There have been two things that are good that have come from this job: We are now able to pay our bills on time and in full and have a small surplus, and he has thus far been able to attend church on Sundays. (I don't know what he's going to do when we move to 8:30 church in January. I'm a little nervous about that.) Those are two really good things that we haven't always been able to do.

So a change of schedule has been a subject of discussion, even prayer. Its not as simple as just putting in a request and somebody either approving it or denying it. A shift change means new leadership, new team-mates, even a change in scope and focus of work. None of that is particularly desirable to JP, but a happy family is desirable, so he's been willing to consider the change, should an opportunity come his way.

Keeping in mind that I am nearly desperate for a change, imagine how I felt when as we walked out of a movie on Thursday night (Couples Retreat, if you like Vince Vaughan being Vince Vaughan and are in the mood for something inanely silly, go for it, we laughed out loud several times.) and JP answered a phone call from one of his work buddies who had a "dilemma". The dilemma was he was being offered a job on the Swing Shift. (still night-ish work, but home by 1:00am). Frank is, so far as I can tell, JP's BFF at work. Its Frick and Frack, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the Two Musketeers, Zoro and Tonto ( I think they take turns being the horses-ass). JP was disappointed that his friend would be leaving the squad. I sat silently in the car trying my hardest not to cry as I was feeling totally and completely slapped in the face by God. I honestly felt like he was saying "I heard you, and this opportunity has come up, but you are not deserving so I'm going to give it to one of your friends." I felt like the little kid who had to look on as her siblings ate ice-cream as she stared at her bowl of cream of broccoli soup she didn't want to eat. I felt angry. But I did control myself and remembered that Frank just got married 2 weeks ago and is trying to blend families and really probably needs this opportunity more than we do.

And then...

JP came home this morning and said "guess what?" Frank's not leaving, they gave the opening to that woman we can't stand.

So here, this poor guy who just got married, who's wife I can only imagine was excited beyond belief that they would get so lucky for a more normal schedule two weeks into their marriage, who had actually agonized over whether to even take the transfer, and ultimately decided to take it because it was what was good for his family, had to go in to work to be told "oh, we gave it to someone else"...and that someone else is generally considered to be a free-loader who collects a paycheck. (Probably she had a superior who was ready to get rid of her.)

And that is where the major meltdown was avoided. If that opportunity had come to JP, and he had accepted it, and then came home to tell me that a lazy, can't be trusted, inefficient, and possibly even incompetent person had been selected instead, there would have been a nuclear bomb gone off in my head. The shattering disappointment would have been felt for miles around me.

And so, for once, I don't have to look back years, but only days to see that sometimes, our greatest blessings are the one's that feel like unanswered prayers.

Who Will Pray For Mommy?

2009-10-16T06:00:00.000-07:00

Although we do not always succeed, we really try to be "Glass Half Full" kind of people. We are keenly aware that while our lot may not be exactly what we hoped for, we can look in any direction around us and find scores of people having a rougher time. This tends to effect the way we pray.

Every night, before JP leaves for work, we gather as a family in prayer. We give the usual thanks, and try really hard to find something different to be thankful for, and then we start asking for blessings. But we've been very poor about asking for blessings of anything other than health and safety for ourselves. We pray for our friends and family members having health issues, who are experiencing unemployment or underemployment, who are going through devastating divorces. We pray for our leaders to have wisdom and the will to act upon what is right. We pray with a heart of mixed sorrow and gratitude for those fighting in wars. We pray for rain. We pray that Daddy will be safe at work and that he will have the energy to do the things required of him during the night. We pray that the children will rest and awaken healthy in the morning. Mommy is usually left out of the request for blessings. I wonder why that is? Do we all think Mommy is doing ok and she doesn't need any blessings? I sort of think that so long as mommy is still doing the dishes, the laundry, and making the meals, that we all think that mommy is just fine. Its not true. Mommy needs at least as much prayer as anybody else in the family does. Mommy is not the pillar of strength that she would have to be to go through life without her family's prayers.

But the problem goes even a little deeper.

As a family, we haven't been praying for our needs to be met. And its showing. Sure, we have a home to live in, food to eat, clothing to wear, and a car to drive. JP has good employment, excellent insurance, and is currently happy with leadership at work. But what about our emotional health? What about our Spiritual Health? Why aren't we praying for more kindness, more patience, more gentleness? Why aren't we praying for things more specific than Health and Safety? (which, we have been blessed with, so if the proof is there that you will be blessed with what you ask for, then we have indeed been blessed with health and safety.)

There is a possibility sitting on the horizon that would make a tremendous impact on my ability to cope with Sunday responsibilities. It won't change the fact that night work is what JP does, but it will change Sundays...dramatically. Its out there, its being discussed and I've sort of crossed my fingers and thought to myself, well, that would be nice, but so far the thing I've been best at accepting is disappointment, so I'm not going to get my hopes up. And then twice in the last 24 hours I've been reminded by someone else or an invasive thought that my Father in Heaven WANTS to bless me, but that I must ASK for the blessing. So I've been on my knees asking, even begging for this one seemingly inconsequential change that would take away 12 tons of stress for mommy. Maybe nobody else cares if this change occurs, but Mommy cares, and mommy needs it, so who will pray for mommy to receive just this one little blessing? I think its time for a talk with the family. Mommy needs blessings too, and I'm asking for this one.

Depends...

2009-10-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

Did you fall out of your chair? My heart beat for 20 minutes after my first encounter with this video.
Have I ever mentioned my irrational fear of snakes? I was being very brave to even watch this, and then I was totally taken advantage of.

Open Letter to JoAnn Fabric and Craft

2009-10-14T06:00:00.000-07:00

Dear JoAnn Fabric and Craft,

Over the years I have had the opportunity to visit a number of your stores in several different states. I have yet to receive friendly, polite, or courteous service at any of your stores. I have noticed that your stores consistently have "help-wanted" signs up. That's interesting during these trying economic times when there are more workers than jobs available. How is it that you cannot keep your stores fully staffed?

I have a sneaking suspicion that the fact that I cannot get friendly service in your stores, and you cannot keep employees working in your stores is related. Either you are hiring anybody that says they're willing to show up for a paycheck, or you hire previously happy people and turn them into ogres overnight. I suspect it may be related to nasty management because I can think of no other reason why people who are working in a store related to the things they love most (sewing and crafting) are so dang disagreeable all the time!

I am disgusted. I really do not like giving your store any of my business, but since you've driven out every other fabric store in every town I've lived in, I have no choice. If I want fabric, I have to go to your store and give you money in exchange for rude signs, rude people, and overpriced merchandise.

I am not joking when I say that I got friendlier service as a white Christian woman in an Arab market at noon during Ramadan, than I get in your stores.

I don't know what your policies are, or why your people are left to feel so undervalued that they cannot muster a smile or a thank you, or a polite phrase for the many hand-printed signs around your stores. But I sure hope that you either fix it, or go out of business, because no business should thrive while treating people the way your employees treat people.

Sincerely,

Mrs. CaveHair

2nd Annual Skeptics Day Parade

2009-10-13T07:30:00.000-07:00

Today is Skeptics Day! Its true, its on the calendar.
Last year I listed a bunch of junk I didn't believe, and then you left the things you were skeptical about in the comment's section. We called it a Skeptic's Day Parade.

Lets do it again, shall we?

So, in honor of skeptics day, here is a list of things I'm not quite sold on:

Bean-o. I'm skeptical, what can I say? Do I really have to expound on this? I just can't see how it could work. I know they try to explain the whole enzyme thing in their commercials, but I'm still not sold.

The Nobel Peace Prize. I mean, so long as we're handing out prizes based on effort alone, then I'm expecting Betty Crocker to come knocking on my door any day now with the Bake-Off grand prize. I deserve it for all the effort I've put into getting oil and water to mix.

The Swine Flu. I don't get what we are supposed to be scared of. And from what I hear, neither does anybody else. In fact, people seem so convinced that they're supposed to be scared of something, that the mass majority of people I hear from have decided it makes more sense to be scared of the vaccination than the actual flu. Why do people think they are supposed to be scared of the N1H1 "Swine Flu" virus? I don't know, but my guess is it has something to do with Mexico and Pigs.

The Housing Market Recovery. Honestly, I think this is hype from starving real estate agents who want to use fear of missing out on a deal as a motivating factor for potential buyers. The fact is there is a glut of empty homes not yet on the market which will begin going into foreclosure in massive numbers in the coming months, and people are not done walking away yet. Once these homes have been foreclosed on, they will enter the market in similarly massive numbers. I'm no economics expert, but I know when supply is greater than demand, prices drop. And until employment numbers improve, there's not going to be a surge in demand. (And guess what, Arizona has dropped from the 3rd best place to find work to the 84th worst place...do the math.)

And lastly "Simple" or "Simplistic"...I have become seriously skeptical of anything attached to these words. These words used to actually mean not pretentious, sophisticated or grand, common, ordinary, lowly or plain.
I have yet to see anybody use the word "Simple" or "Simplistic" and then show me a picture of a cotton cloth. My favorite mis-use of the word "simplistic" involves hair-do's with 10 steps and three kinds of ribbon which have been baked in the oven on sticks and threaded through the hair with darning needles. I am skeptical that this is more simple than a pony-tail. But maybe I'm wrong, after all, skepticism is just a general disbelief, not a hard core fact of inaccuracy.

So there's my list of things I'm skeptical about. What about you? I'm giving you permission to leave a link to your blog in my comment's section today, so go for it, tell us what you're skeptical about, and find some new readers.

City Mouse/Country Mouse-An Evening of Contrasts

2009-10-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

Dating is not something that JP and I are exactly expert at. There are a lot of things we could blame it on. Money, small towns, lack of suitable babysitters, you name it. We have used every excuse in the book for being lousy daters. But what it really boils down too is a lack of creativity. Granted, living in a couple of small towns with few options that weren't bars,(and I don't mean TGIMcFunster type bars, I mean dives) kind of exacerbated our lack of creativity. I mean, when there are bars, bars, bars, a burger joint and a movie theater in town, your options are a little limited if you're not the drinking type. But still...its a matter of creativity, right? Right.

But every once in a while, we get it right. And it seems to be always when we really REALLY need to get it right. Its those times that someone's (singular or plural) mental health depends on it. This past Friday was one of those rare events when we got it just right and we were able to return home refreshed and ready to be parents again.

We kind of lucked out, because the day started off with JP having to do some chores for work that he didn't really want to do, but while he was out, there was a TV playing, and he was there during the morning news and he happened to catch the "Savvy Shopper" who was doing a segment on cheap/free things to do around Phoenix this weekend. ( we canceled our cable, so we would not have caught her segment had he not gone in to take care of the work stuff.) As it turned out, there was a free art show in town, and just days before I had asked JP how was it possible that he enjoyed the kinds of music he enjoys without being much into visual art? He took that to mean I would enjoy going to an art exhibit, so he set the whole date up.

We had a perfectly ridiculous evening!

We decided to call it our "City Mouse/Country Mouse" date because we could not have contrasted our activities more greatly if we had actually tried to have an exercise in opposites. We ate BBQ at a chain restaurant and then went to an Art Exhibit Open House at a University. JP wore a plaid shirt, I wore black and too much eye makeup (we had a little miscommunication about what we were wearing and I really did not want to wash my face and start all over again, nor did I want to ask him to change since A: it didn't matter, and B: I was feeling pretty lucky that he was trying this hard to do something new and different for a date.) We sat at a table where a waitress wrote on a plate with BBQ sauce, had pig-puns printed on her back, and used papertowels to wipe our faces at the table. We listened to "experimental" music. There was laughing, knee-slapping, and darn near pants-peeing over things that were supposed to be humorous, and things that weren't actually supposed to be funny at all, but were just trying so hard to be serious that it felt like a joke. There was regret that we hadn't spent any "young" years together, and gratitude that we didn't meet until we were grown up enough to appreciate each other. There was Gelato, Facebooking, hand-holding, and squealing around corners while we pretended we were 17 again. And then there was returning home, trying to pay an ornery sitter...I mean sister...who wouldn't be paid, and falling asleep on the couch like an old married couple.

Oh, and by the way, we drove our American gas guzzling SUV to the Sustainable Earth Art Show...are you surprised that we got out of there without a lynching?

Best line of the night:

(about the actual cockroach in the road) "Oh my gosh this roach is HUGE!"
"I told you I smelled Marijuana"

Here's your sign

2009-10-11T18:38:00.000-07:00

If the numbers on the scale weren't sign enough.
If the fact that your cute clothes don't go past your hips anymore, isn't enough.
If the fact that you are seriously considering puking as an acceptable weight-loss tool isn't enough.
If the tears of frustration and anger aren't enough...

Then maybe being asked when they baby is due will do the trick.

**note to self: Do not wear Empire Waist again until 40 lbs have been dropped.

Strange things

2009-10-09T07:28:00.000-07:00

Here are some of the strange things that have "lived" in my house from time to time. Co-incidentally, these inhabitants have made themselves known in the times that I have had 3 and 4 year olds living in my home.

Twin Puppies named "Daisy"
Elephants with toilet paper ears
mice
Cats, lots and lots of Cats
ghosts
robots
cowboys
wierdos
bluebirds
roadrunners
octopus
GI Joe
Clones
ballereemas
dancerinas
scary-skeleton-rockout-boys
breakdancers
papa-Jack
mermaids
ponies, lots and lots of ponies
the occasional snake
Thor, the god of thunder
Medusa
airplanes
butterflies
bumblebees
queens
princesses
knights
cows
goats under bridges
ducks
geese
rock-n-roller chicks
Hawaiian girls
Surfers-some of the world's best!
cocoons
bouncing balls
muscle men
ninja
black knights
Batman
Spider Man
the Hulk
and last but not least Goo

What does the list of your home's strange inhabitants look like?

Swimming Against the Current

2009-10-08T08:15:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been feeling exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, physically, just completely exhausted. I couldn't quite put into words the source of my exhaustion, I only knew that I was tired, and it had something to do with a vague feeling that I was constantly at battle with outside sources.

Then President Monson gave me that "Aha" moment when he said in his closing remarks Sunday something about feeling like we are swimming against the current, and that it is tiring. I breathed a sigh of relief and for the first time when somebody from a pulpit said the words "I Love You" I actually believed I, ME, LISA was being told that somebody understood how I was feeling and that I really was loved. Just the day before I cried out to my Father in Heaven, more like screamed out at him that if He indeed sees my family's challenges, and indeed loves me, then why would he not do something about it? ( I know, I know, I know.) President Monson's words were like an answer to prayer for me that I am not alone in experiencing the exhaustion of hard work and unrewarded dedication.

But the point of my post this morning is that today, for the first time in weeks, maybe months, I feel relaxed, happy, and energized. This week I have taken some "personal days" and not ignored responsibility, but done a better job of prioritizing and delegating. I've given myself some breathing room, I've used the word "no". I've tried to simplify my expectations of myself. I've acted promptly when needed, and have accomplished a fair portion, but I've allowed some non-essentials to give way for a few days. I feel better. There are some things I would change in a heart-beat if I could, but I can't. So what do I do? I find a way to be happy anyways. I've done it before, I can do it again. Giving myself permission to rest a moment before the next jog upstream is probably the best thing I can do, because I have a sneaking suspicion the current's about to get stronger.

Dearest Damsel In Distress/Elena wants a Portable Oven

2009-10-07T09:17:00.000-07:00

Ok, so you're smart enough to age yourself by an extra year for the new 2009 round of this scammy "Damsel in Distress" e-mail (as seen by the snopes.com posting from "Don Enrico" who had this exact same letter last year in which you were only 31 years old.) But what you're not smart enough to realize is that your letter smacks of scammery. Yes scammery. I know that's not "yet" a word, but I'm making it a word and I'm submitting it for "word of the year" to Websters Dictionary. If "Truthiness" can win, so can "scammery" its a verb, and it means "the action of scamming".

Let me break it down for you as to how I knew your sob-story was a scam.

1. Your broken English. Yes, you explained that you live in Russian Province, so I should probably just chalk your poor English up to your Eastern European background, but I only accept poor English e-mail from one source, my dear friend who's first language is Spanish. Everybody else, if you want me to think you're not trying to take my money, learn better English. (how's that for xenophobic?)

2. You "founded" my address on the internet. Well, you found it somewhere, but I didn't post it on a bulletin board as an invitation to all to send me scammy letters asking for wood burning stoves.

3. You're telling me the exact price of a wood burning stove, but you're asking me to send you a stove in case I happen to have one over here in America that I'm no longer using. Its alot like the guys standing on the corner with signs saying "will work for money" but they're sitting on a bucket across from a "Help Wanted" sign. You're hoping that I'll just send money, that way, if you decide you'd rather have a fur coat than an iron stove, you can totally do that!

4. How very kind of you to go ahead and figure out the exchange rate and all so you could tell me the exact dollar amount that this stove will cost in US dollars. It just strikes me as strange.

So here's what I think will happen if I respond to your letter. It will go something like this:
For one, you're probably really hoping I'm a man, because your little scam will work out alot better with a dude. So, if I'm a guy and I write you back that I don't have a stove, but I'd really like to help you and your children out, so where can I send a small amount of money? You're going to write back about how grateful you are for my kindness and lay all kinds of accolades on me. You're going to really build me up, make me feel special. We'll exchange e-mails for a while, and you'll eventually invite me to set up a chat with you, you like me that much. So we'll chat about all manner of things, how much my job sucks, how much I don't deserve to be treated so poorly by my boss/wife/mother/room-mate, we'll talk about your children, how they're just getting over pneumonia, how much the wood burning stove has helped them this winter, etc, etc. Eventually we'll exchange pictures. I'll send you my real picture, you'll tell me how handsome I am, even in all my self-loathing, I'll want to believe that you, the most beautiful girl from Russia I've ever seen actually thinks I'm handsome. The picture you have sent me will be somebody else entirely, in fact, you're probably a guy, but the picture you will send me will be totally hot! I will fall in love with you because you will make me feel special and you are the only person in the world that is grateful I exist. You will have more sickness, more job losses, maybe even an eviction, I will send you my rent money so you can pay yours. Eventually, something will happen to make me realize I've been used and I will kill myself because I feel so stupid about thinking a beautiful Russian woman actually cared about me when really it was some big fat convict taking my money.

So, I guess I won't respond to your letter this time. I am not a guy, I don't have a coal stove, and I don't really want to send $285 US dollars for you to get one.

Here is the e-mail I received:

Hi,

My name is Elena, I have 32 years and I live in Russian province. I work in library and I can use computer after my work when possible. I finded your address in internet and I decided to write you this letter.

I have a 8-years old daughter Angelina, her father abandoned us and we live with my mother.

Due to the financial crisis recently my mother lost job and our situation became very difficult.

The prices for gas and electricity is very high in our region and we cannot use it to heat our home anymore.

The winter is coming and weather becoming colder each day. We are very afraid and we don't know what to do.

The only accessible way for us to heat our home is to use a portable oven which work with burning wood. We have enough wood in our region and this oven will heat our home all winter for minimal charges.

Unfortunately, we cannot buy this oven in our city because it costs equivalent of 285 US dollars and very expensive for us.

If you have any old portable oven and in case you don't use it anymore, we will be very grateful to you if you can donate it to us and organize transport of this oven to our address (200km from Moscow). This ovens are different, usually they made from cast iron.

I will be waiting for your answer.

With deep respect from Russia,
Elena and my family.

For My Shared Clan Eggshop and my friends in Thessaloniki

2009-10-05T21:30:00.000-07:00

Why yes! I have a post for you. While I'm sure this is not remotely what you were looking for when you googled the above phrase and landed on my blog, I do have a story to tell. I'm sure you'll find it intriguing, provided you enjoy a good skin-crawling-ooh that's disgusting-truth-is-stranger-than-fiction story involving arachnids and insects.

The previous post is about Montezuma's Castle, the picture I posted of the "Castle" represents everything the average tourist will see when visiting. You cannot climb up into it, you cannot get any closer, there are no trails, and no additional dwellings to be seen. What you see is what you get. There is a small "museum" I would rather call it a Visitor's Center which tells a very short history about the structure and the National Parks system. That's it. Nothing else.

The trip is not a disappointment, provided you understand you will not be climbing up into the dwelling. Its worth seeing, make it a side trip on your way to doing something else. The country is beautiful, its worth the drive.

That said...we had a little bonus siting the day we visited. See the picture above? This is a "Tarantula Hawk" (thank you google images for this picture.) I think its rather beautiful myself. What this insect does however, can be called nothing other than horrifying. Its the stuff horror movies are made of! Think hairy spiders, paralyzing venom, kidnapping, egg-laying, being eaten alive by hatchlings. These are the kinds of things put in movies to terrify people. These are the kinds of things that are in movies I don't watch. We had the privilege of seeing one of these do its thing in the parking lot at Montezuma's Castle. The tarantula hawk had found its prey, one of these adorable creatures---------->

What the park ranger told us next was fascinating. We truly had a learning experience, and according to her, a rare one.

The tarantula hawk had found its prey, a nice hairy, rather large tarantula (did you know tarantulas don't really like to bite you, and if you do, its a lot like a bee-sting and shouldn't really be any big deal? Tarantula's are nothing to be scared of). He injected the tarantula with a venom which would paralyze the spider completely. Once the people cleared away and gave the poor hawk a moment to get its work done, his plan was to drag that spider to his den of iniquity where he would fertilize the eggs of his mate, and she, wanting healthy, well-fed baby-hawks, would lay her eggs inside the LIVE tarantula. The tarantula would be kept alive as the embryos developed and eventually became baby tarantula hawks. The babies would eat the live spider from the inside out, making their arrival into the world complete.

How's THAT for a Scary Halloween story? If only I could make this stuff up, but no. Its TRUE. And it was really cool to get to see this underside of nature in action.

Montezuma's Castle- (no revenge)

2009-10-03T17:55:00.000-07:00

As it turns out, Montezuma had nothing to do with it, and it wasn't a castle, more like a high-rise apartment building for communal living. Can you believe this beautiful cliff dwelling? I imagine a small band of people wandering into the beautiful valley, finding water and plenty of vegetation, and figuring it would make a good place to settle then looking around and thinking to themselves, "well, where should we sleep tonight?" Somebody, probably one of the men, said "hey, there's a cave up there, lets climb up there and check it out." He decided his family should sleep there and after 4 or 5 nights his wife said "this cave isn't bad, but it sure would be nice if I had a little wall right here to keep the animals out of our food." And so the husband said "lets build a little wall then." And so she had a nice little pantry she could store her corn and amaranth in and she liked it and thought to herself as she peered down at her pregnant belly "This cave isn't bad, but it would sure be nice to have a little wall right here so the baby won't roll off the cliff." So she told her husband "I'd sure like another wall, so the baby won't roll off the cliff." And so they built the wall, and she left her handprints in the mud because she was too tired to smooth it out nicely, and she looked around herself and thought "Ahhh, this is nice." And then she realized, "My in-laws are coming! Where am I going to put them?" And she went to her husband and said "Honeeeeeeeeeey...you know how your folks are coming for a visit when the baby arrives?" and he, seeing a major honey-do coming on, hesitantly replied "yeeeeeees?" And she said "well, I was thinking, they would probably really appreciate some privacy while they are here. I know they said they don't mind sleeping on the cave-floor, and they'd be happy to fend for themselves and get their own meals while they're here, but I just feel like such a terrible hostess putting your mother on the hard limestone floor without even a wall for privacy. I haven't even had a chance to polish it or make any petroglyph's on the walls." And he said "and so you want?" to which she replied, "Do you think we could add one more room and another storage room? We could really use the space as the baby grows anyways, so its not like it won't be useful." And he obliged. (Even though he was tired from taking down that 8 point buck earlier that morning and fighting off the mountain lion late the night before.) She helped him mix the mud and put it up on the walls he constructed for her, and she left a few more handprints (hoping her mother in law wouldn't notice.)

After the baby was born, the grandparents came and visited and word got out that these two sure had a nice set-up, plenty of storage and room to grow plus a huge green valley and plenty of water. So guess what? The wife's brother lost his job as lead-hunter in his band of people when there was that whole coyote-shape-shifting miscommunication thing and he accidentally shot a mischievous local teenager with his bow and arrow. Since food and water was running scarce in his village and he was having trouble finding another hunting gig, he decided to pay a visit to his sister in her big-fancy cave where he heard she had a nice guest room that wasn't being used, and plenty of storage space. So he and his family of 17 came wandering into the camp destitute and looking for shelter. How could she turn him away? So she returned to her husband and said "honey?" and a lively conversation followed where they argued over whether or not there was really a "misunderstanding" about that "coyote" and if they let them stay in their guest house, were they really helping them, or just giving them a handout and would they help hunt? And if they did help hunt, could the brother really be trusted with a bow and arrow again? They finally decided the brother's family could stay, but only until his luck changed, and... he and his wife had to help out around the place. Three years later they realized the brother was still there, and now his family had grown and they needed more space and more storage, and so up went some more walls. Eventually, the brother got tired of his sister's husband acting like he was doing them all a favor by letting them stay there and so the family built their own castle next door. The brother made it bigger, with even more storage, and his wife filled the rooms with so much junk he had to put down new floor boards every so often, but they built their castle in the middle of the real-estate boom and the contractor's hurried the project along and did it as fast as they could with the cheapest materials they could find so the house fell down a couple hundred years later. The sister's house still stands, its beautiful and unique. Mostly unadorned except for the hand-prints her husband came to love, the home is simple in its beauty with hand-carved wooden ladders, lovely windows, and 3rd level terrace dining. The beautiful two toned "paint" job inspires neighbors for hundreds of miles around.
Of course...I could be all wrong. ;)

Warm Milk

2009-10-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

Did you know that WarmMilk is both the cure and the cause of Insomnia? No? Well in my house it is! I mistakenly suggested a cup of warm milk one night when Gabe was having difficulty getting to sleep. My generosity has been taken advantage of however, and has now created a reason to have insomnia. This child waits for his younger sister to fall asleep, sneaks downstairs, tells me he "can't sleep" and then asks for a cup of warm milk.

I'm not sure if its the warm milk, or conversation with mom's that he enjoys, but either way, I've created a monster. Good thing its a monster I'm fairly fond of ;)

Ode to Pandora Radio-The Music Genome Project

2009-09-30T06:00:00.001-07:00

Pandora, Pandora
You've got my favorite Band-oras
I think its so cool that you let me pick
stations I like, that don't make me sick

Some of the stations you let me play
feature great music by "Les (Pool of) Clay"
If I'm feeling funky, I can have Morris Day
If I'm feeling mellow, how 'bout some Sade?

Your "Genome Project" of the music type
Lives up fully to the "music you like" hype
I like the stations, my favorite picks
If I feel like it I can even have Styxx!

But there's just one thing I'd like to know
How do you make this radio show?
You seem to know what I prefer
Even if it is a Li'l Butthole Surfer!

ok, seriously, here is (mostly JP's) and my Pandora radio list of stations...I apologize if I'm totally blowing your image of our cultured clan ;)

Talking Heads Radio
Reverend Horton Heat Radio
Mr. Bungle Radio
Les Claypool Radio
Tool Radio
The Clash Radio
Buena Vista Social Club Radio
Smashing Pumpkins Radio
Radiohead Radio
Incubus Radio
Fleetwood Mac Radio
Blondie Radio
and Butthole Surfer Radio (not a joke...its really there, I don't know why, except it makes me wanna sing "Shark Attack! Shark Attack! Get out of the Water and Don't Look Back!" But I don't think that song's even by them so go figure.)

There's quite a few favorites we could add...some I'm surprised are missing. What about Led Zeppelin? Peter Murphy? the CARS! seriously, how are the Cars not on that list yet? That's it, I'm going to go add them right now.

If you haven't visited Pandora radio yet, get over there and pay a visit, you will LOVE it. You can even make a station to send somebody as a gift, a totally modern "Mix Tape" for your crush. How fun is that?

And, nope, not getting paid for this, just seriously love this site, go have fun. Now!

Slow Cooker for Sunday

2009-09-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

We have the distinct privilege of attending church at 2:00pm on Sundays. Seeming as it takes three hours to move from meeting to meeting we get home right at our preferred dinner time. I've been making it a point to have a crock-pot meal ready and waiting for us so we can walk in, eat dinner, and then rest or relax for the remainder of the evening before JP must leave for work.

Can I just say, I'm tired of slow-cooker fare? I really am. We've done beenie weenie, we've done swiss steak, we've done garlic chicken, we've done pizza pasta. You know what we haven't done? (Until this past Sunday) Curry!!! What a beautiful change of pace. And you know what? This turned out so good that I'm going to have to be careful not to master any other Thai style dishes or my husband will never take me to my favorite Valley restaurant again. (Thai House.)

Here's the funny thing, this recipe was called "Brazilian Chicken with Coconut Milk" but the sauce tasted EXACTLY like our favorite Pineapple Curry from Thai House, minus the pineapple. I'll tell you what, I'm making this with pineapple next time.

Here is my take on the original recipe ( I made a few changes based on what I had in the house, it was Sunday- I think we were doing good to have most of the ingredients for something this exotic tasting on hand!)

Lets just call it "Coconut Milk Chicken" because the jury is still out on whether it was Brazilian or not, and I don't feel like I should just decide it was in fact Thai when I'm not at all sure about how a traditional Thai coconut curry would be developed.

1t ground cumin
1t ground paprika
1/2 t chili powder
1t kosher salt (or to taste, mine was a very generous teaspoon.)
freshly ground pepper (probably 1/2 t.)
4 boneless/skinless chicken breasts, chopped in 1 in cubes
2T olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1 T minced fresh ginger ( I only had crystalized on hand, I was concerned about the sugar on it messing up the flavor, but the dish turned out great, so use what you've got.)
2 jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 14.oz can stewed tomatoes
1 14.oz can coconut milk

Mix spices, salt and pepper in a large Zip-Loc bag, add cubed chicken, close bag, toss around to coat. Heat 1 T oil in skillet, add chicken, cook thoroughly. Remove from heat, place cooked chicken in your slow-cooker. Heat remaining 1 T olive oil in the skillet, cook and stir the onion, ginger, jalapeno peppers, and garlic 5 minutes, or until tender. Add can of tomatoes, being sure to let the juice deglaze your pan and pick up all the yummy little bits that have accumulated on the bottom of your pan. Stir in Coconut milk. Pour over chicken in the slow-cooker, place slow cooker on warm, serve when you're ready. Ours sat in the slow cooker for about 5 hours, the flavors had fully developed and it was a wonderful savory dish. (as opposed to the slightly bland tasting dish it started off as fresh from the skillet, this is one dish that was definitely improved by the sitting around in a slow cooker for hours.)

The original recipe suggests serving this over rice, garnished with fresh parsely, one reviewer (of the original recipe) suggested basil instead, which I think would be awesome. May I suggest Jasmine Rice? I don't think you could go wrong!

Have fun and please share your slow-cooker successes...I'm tired if it all being the same.

BEST SONG EVER!

2009-09-28T11:36:00.000-07:00

This beats Alex the Seal, Dirty Deek and the Thundercheifs, and whatever that song about the douche getting blinded by the light was...Lily just walked in singing....

My My My Boogerface, My My Boogerface.

Parkour Park Whore

2009-09-28T06:00:00.000-07:00

Does this look like something you would wear someplace like this?

We didn't think so either, and yet...4 inch platforms and all, there were two of them, one Alice type, one...not really sure, except she had the biggest dunlop (as in her belly done lopped over her skirt) I've ever seen on a (Prositute? Adult movie wannabe actress? Halloween Catalog model?) They were coming down the hill with their "photographer" friend when we were just arriving at the trail head Friday night. We thought perhaps they confused the art of Parkour (the art of getting from point A to point B in as creative a fashion as possible) for Park Whore...then again....maybe we shouldn't go there.

As it turns out, after last weeks run-in with the drunkies who were arguing over whether or not noticing a beautiful child made them a child molester, and these 3 pillars of society, it is not the rattle snakes that are the reason I've felt to not venture out to the trails without JP...its the WEIRDOS!

Organize, Teach, Inspire

2009-09-27T00:22:00.000-07:00

O, T, I...every once in a while, something really speaks to me, tonight it was the playback for the General Relief Society Conference. I missed the original broadcast while we were attending a wedding. Admittedly, in the past I would have shined the entire thing on unless somebody had asked me to teach a lesson or something on one of the talks, and then, I would only have listened to that specific talk. But when I arrived home, after I put the kids to bed, I felt compelled to log onto the computer and listen to the playback. I'm glad I did.

The message concerning the role of the Relief Society Presidency to Organize, Teach, and Inspire the sisters of the ward to come unto Christ more fully by participating in prayerfully considered activities provided clarity. I didn't realize I was in a fog about my role in Relief Society, but if I was, the fog has certainly been rolled away and the path made clear.

I love it when leadership seeks to simplify the lives of members. The new "rules" about how to run a ward Relief Society seem to do just that. I just hope and pray that on the local level sisters will resist the urge to complicate the things that should bless and enrich the lives of the women we call Sister.

As women we are so task oriented, that we sometimes lose sight of the big picture. We get caught up in minutia. Alot of times, the minutia doesn't matter. Hopefully, this new, simpler way to run a Relief Society based on the three words "Organize, Teach, Inspire" will help us to do a better job of focusing our efforts on the things that really matter, which, afterall, is the salvation of souls, and nothing more. When it comes right down to it, Santa Keys, Chalkboard Plates, and Decoupage are fun, and gathering together to make these fun things provides opportunity for friendships to develop, talents to be nurtured, and safe and sane breaks from daily routine to be enjoyed, but ultimately we can remove the pressure from our leaders to provide us with the "Best Ever" Super Saturday activity if we seek to be taught and inspired first, and entertained last.

While the specific message to Organize, Teach, and Inspire might be directed mostly to leadership, every sister can embrace these three words and make them part of her experience as a Relief Society Sister. Perhaps this phrase can be used not only as a developmental tool to guide leaders in planning successful activities, but also as a measure of success by the sisters enjoying the activity. I say, if the event will be organized, teach me something, and inspire me to act, then it will be a successful event.

Here's to Relief Society with a new attitude...or is it an old attitude we forgot? Whichever it is, I'm all for it.

I may have a dancing animal in my future

2009-09-25T10:20:00.000-07:00

I have just been informed by Lily that she does not want to keep growing. The reason: She doesn't want to be six. I have no idea why six is such a repulsive age, but her brother is currently six so she must be observing some things about his life that she does not care to submit herself too. I would think that it may have something to do with being expected to clean his bedroom on his own without assistance, but the fact is, at three, Lily does a much better job of cleaning her room on her own, so that can't be it. She thinks school looks fantastic, so I don't think school is the reason. I'm thinking it might possibly have something to do with being expected to sit through Sacrament without a snack or a toy that's got her bothered. She really likes her Little People and Animal Crackers....that's got to be the reason. It may also have something to do with the fact that we've told her we are no longer responding to any puppies or catties in our house, and that we will only speak to Lily directly. We did tell her that she was growing up and needed to use human words. That has to be it! Grrrreeeeaaaaaaat. I totally ruined my child's formative years by requesting she drop the cat act. Oh well, I can live with that. Maybe there's a part in Cat's the Musical she'll use to rebel against me when she's grown. Wouldn't I be proud? Oh, yes, I'm sure I would be. But it would be kind of funny, don't you think if she grew up to be an actress specializing in being a dancing animal, all because at three I decided I was tired of only speaking to animals?

I'm glad you found Jesus, now find the Gas Pedal! (and other remarks)

2009-09-24T06:00:00.000-07:00

"Is that a costume?"
"I think that baby is Dwight Schrute's Love Child"

"Congratulations, you beat a monkey"

"Listen to me very carefully...I am not a kid...I am a girl."

"Should I try to fall asleep with my eyes open or shut?"

"Your talent is you can break anything without trying."
"Wanna know how much I made with this horse? 62 thousand dollars, and I bought a castle, it cost $600."
"I won 800 levels of this game, but Lily is the best opponent because she beats me every time."
"I deeeeeeeeNOUNCE my iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiindian heritage"
"I absolutely love you"
"I think I would say 'I'll just stand back here and watch my wife take care of you' because I'd be laughing too hard to aim"
"I set my alarm for 78.8 so I could get up early to clean my room"
"I have a sneaking suspicion this deed will not go unpunished"
"They call that blackmail in some arenas"
"I was really good at Patt-a-Cake when I was younger"
"Either get a picture of that, or grab a quarter to drop when I pull up behind her."
"As it turns out, its a little embarrassing to order 5 double cheeseburgers, a large fry, a large onion ring, and only one Diet Coke while in the car alone."
"Don't take this wrong, but...you've never missed a meal."
"I think my success lies in helping other people be successful, less pressure that way."
"I'll think about three little birds while you hunt down 'these two dudes'"
"Is it LEGAL to have an organized Smoke-out?" (and no, we're not talking an anti-cigarette campaign here folks.)
"Villain is an excellent vocabulary word, much better than just 'bad guy'"
"Country- C O N C H R E"
"Mom, was does Lady Spread Stink mean?"
"Pigs Iiiiiiiiiiiiin Spaaaaaaaaaace"
"Wakka Wakka"