We Have a Black Blob

Well, I know we've lived here for three years, but we still haven't emptied our garage. We're working on getting everything organized, but we really need to have a garage sale.

So recently, we've noticed a black blob that scurries sometimes when we go into the garage. I think it's a mouse. Matt thinks it's a lizard. Originally, I thought it might be a spider, but Wyatt swears he saw a tail. The thing is - none of us have actually gotten a good look at it, so it's come to be known as the black blob in the garage.

I think we're going to set a mouse trap and see what we get. We've gotten a good enough look to know that it's about 3-4 inches, but it's moving so fast, and we usually see it out of the corner of our eye, so we really just aren't sure what it is. As you can tell from the pics, there are lots of places for the black blob to hide. I'm really hoping it's a mouse. We had a huge tarantula in our garage in Tucson and I don't think I can handle a large spider again. That was just too dang creepy!!!!

Has it really been 3 months????

Okay, I know it's been forever since I blogged. Life has been so busy, I couldn't think of anything to blog about, which makes no sense at all after writing it. LOL!

So we got the SoCal annual passes to Disneyland this year and I wanted to take the kids the last few days that weren't blocked. Matt got home from work while we were gone and took the dog out and she got out of the yard and ran away.

Pucca is a chihuahua mix, so after she was gone for a week, we were pretty confident that the local hawk, owl, or coyotes got her. We got two puppies because we never thought we'd get her back. Then, about five days later, some boys called to tell us they found our dog when they were riding their bikes.

I picked up Pucca and she was in bad shape and I had to take her to the very expensive vet hospital because it was a Saturday afternoon. They never say "do this or put them to sleep" and you feel so bad for your pet, you agree to pretty much anything. After a ton of money and many trips to the vet, we now have our little dog back and two wolf/malamute puppies.

Pucca with all her bandages

The puppies about 5-6 weeks old


Bella and Duke

Bella

Bella's face and Duke

Duke

Follow up to Easter Eggs - The Day Of....

I know this is late, but I thought I'd post the pics of the Easter Egg Hunt. I still can't believe how many eggs we had out there. It took a LOOOOOOONG time to put out the eggs, but only a few minutes for the kids to pick them all up.

Easter Eggs Anyone?????

I haven't blogged in forever, so I figured I'd post some of these. They'll probably be found at my friends' blogs, too.

We were loading Easter eggs for the Easter Egg Hunt for Primary. Yes, that's me in the ratty sweats looking like I've been ill for a few weeks. Thank goodness the picture is kind of from behind me!!!! Whew!!!!





How do you like Jen's Easter Egg basket?

I have the Disney Channel on while my kids are at school.

What does that say about me????

"Don't make this harder than it has to be...."

I've been working like crazy lately, so I haven't even had a chance to get back to all my lovely blog friends who have been leaving me comments. I'm so sorry about that! Thank you so much for all your comment love!

This blog post fell into my lap - it's a note that Wyatt left on Matt's iPod recently:

Dear dad,


I am sorry to say that you and mom and the girls are kicked out of the guitar hero band. When we play together we stink but I rock in single player. You also stink at excite truck . Don't make this harder than it has to be.

Sincerley,
wyatt who thinks he is the best at all things in wii even though he his.


Just so you know - he's not a conceited or snobby kid. Everyone in our family seems to be telling each other that they stink on the Wii. I guess we're a little competitive!

I have not been kidnapped!

Just wanted to post that I'm not disappearing. I've just been really busy with work lately, so it may be a while between posts. Please don't forget me! I promise to blog soon!

For the latest family funny - Matt was in our bedroom with Savannah and she had just eaten lunch. She said, "Daddy, will you throw me on the bed?" And Matt said, "Well, Mommy might get mad if she hears me doing that." And Savannah whispered, "Then SHUT THE DOOR!"

Just Say No!

I wanted to have a New Year's resolution, but I didn't want it to be just another resolution that I write down and never even think about again. One of my goals for 2009 is to be more balanced. But I still felt like I needed some more defined goals, so I've come up with another one.

I want to be better about saying NO. I'm usually so concerned about not pleasing everyone, I won't say NO. But this year, I'm going to make it a GOAL. Maybe that will make it easier.

And then I thought....I have a lot of friends who have a hard time saying NO. Maybe they'd like to join my "Just Say No" club, too.

So if you have the same problem, and want to try to overcome it and say NO more often, reply to this post and join the throng of peoplepleasers who want to reform.

JUST SAY NO!!!!

Never Blog After Midnight!!!!

I swear. It's really not a good thing. Nothing good can come of it!!! Really. Cuz even when I read an awesome blog post by someone, it's not like I can remember it when my brain is fried. But I can't stop. I'm just TOOOOOO curious. Gotta find out what my friends are blogging. And my imaginary friends. You know. The ones I stalk. And then it's an hour later and I'm still not in bed.

So I'm linking to Della Hill's blog. It's fitting. Happy blogging, facebooking, bulletin boarding, youtubing, and whatever-other-internet-vice-you-have-ing!

A Poem About Cleaning (And Why I Suck At It) by Della Hill

Thanks, Della, for putting into words what I don't want my husband to EVER comment on. (Had to put that in for the next time he reads my blog.) :D

When earth and hell conspire against you, remember you have friends...

I was thinking about a friend today and how someone was mean to her. This phrase went through my head and I just had to blog it.

I am grateful for friends because they make us feel better about ourselves. Friends share their embarrassments so that we're less embarrassed about our own flops. Friends smile at us when they see us in the hall. Friends don't worry about not smiling when everything is going wrong. Friends crack a joke at the most inappropriate time, just because they know we REALLY need the laugh. Friends share a special story that touches our hearts and comforts us. Friends give us a hug. Friends watch our kids in a bind. Friends let us see their messy kitchens. Friends let us see their messy houses. Friends let us see their messy kids. Friends ignore our irritability. Friends listen to us vent.

Friends make it all worthwhile.

Help! The last of my Christmas ornaments aren't putting themselves away!!!!

Not sure what the deal is here.... I've been waiting for weeks now, and some of my Christmas stuff is still out. I mean, REALLY, shouldn't they be away by now????

Seriously! How are the little elves going to come and clean my house if the Christmas stuff isn't cleaned up???

Those ornaments are really slacking!!!!

Someone Stop My Head!!! It Keeps Spinning!!!

I'm wondering if I publicly admit that I'm neurotic, if I'll feel less stressed. I actually Googled the signs of a nervous breakdown the other day because I wanted to see if I was going to have one. I have about half of the symptoms, but the fact that I keep working out and that I'm calling friends and still want to be social apparently means I'm still sane.

It seems that the more stressed I get, the more little stupid things bug the crap out of me. Not sure exactly where I was going with this thought, so I'll just leave it at that.

We went down to the beach for a few days. We don't get the channel that plays The Dog Whisperer here at home, but it was on cable down at the beach and my husband and I watched episode after episode. (I guess they were having some marathon or something.) There was this dog that had experienced some trauma and then the owner had a laser pointer and was playing with the dog, having the dog chase the laser light. And ever since, the dog is always frantically looking around for the illusive light.

Cesar Millan said the dog was neurotic. I guess that's why the word has been on my mind. I'm not calling myself a dog. But I keep seeing that dog frantically running around, looking all over the place, and I feel like that sometimes. Most of the time. A lot lately. But I don't think I'm talking to myself yet, so I think that's another sign that my sanity is intact. Also, there are no voices in my head.

Yet.

And I don't sleep all the time.....another sign that a nervous breakdown is not in my immediate future.

.....maybe I just need more sleep????

Oh, The Blessed Quiet

I checked - it's not a church hymn. I'm pretty sure that if it was, it would be sung in Relief Society.

Yes, the kids are back at school. It's quiet. And I almost don't know what to do with myself! Note that I said "almost". I was just talking to my sister and her kids don't go back to school for another week. They were whining and crying and I could hear them over the phone. I told her they were killing my "high". And then I promptly got off the phone.

I know. Bad sister.

So. 2009. The last year before I turn 40. *GASP* I really can't believe it!

I have ONE goal for this year, and that is to be more balanced, and thus less stressed. That's my goal and I'm sticking to it!!!!

Happy New Year!

I HAVE BECOME MY MOTHER

Really. We're just alike. And we can't stand each other. At least - during the holidays we can't. We drive each other crazy.

What?! It's only Christmas Eve and why should I already be feeling crazy?????

Tonight's our big dinner. Family should be walking through the door any minute. But I just had to throw in a quick post because I find it absolutely hilarious that I've become my mother, and I don't like it one bit!!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

My Favorite Christmas Story

One of my favorite memories of Christmas from when I was a kid was when my parents would ask us each year if we'd be willing to give up some of our Christmas gifts to help those who don't have as much. We always said yes.

At first we would buy gifts or clean up or fix up gently used toys. We did it with other families and we would all go to the house of whomever our parents found and take everything up to their doorstep, ring the doorbell, and run like crazy. Then, from down the street, we'd yell, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!"

After a few years of that, my parents told us that most of the fun is in buying gifts for others, so we just gave money to those they found, so that the parents of those families could shop for their kids.

We've tried to keep this tradition in our family. My dad sent the following story in email and I just loved it. And I just had to share it.

SIMPLE WHITE ENVELOPE
It's just a small white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas --oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it -- the overspending, the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma -- the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church.

These youngsters,dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, 'I wish just one of them could have won,' he said. 'They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them. ' Mike loved kids -- all kids -- and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball, and lacrosse.

That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition --one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipationas their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due to cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

May we all remember Christ, who is the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always.