Saturday, August 29, 2009

A Brady Bunch Reunion

(a couple of highlights from the weekend)

Reunions: 

Scanning the crowd of 70 plus people, Douglas asked, with an air of amazement and a large swoop of the arms, “Are all of these people related to us?”  Indeed they were, for we were at a family reunion.  As far as “all” goes, I was told that this group wasn’t even half of what could have been there if all members had made a greater effort to reunite.  It’s hard though,especially when you live so far away and when, as a married-into-the-family member, you find you only recognize half of the people there and know only an eighth of that half’s names.  At least this time I tried to get a good look at faces so that I could, should I spot them in a line-up, or at a Maverick gas station on our way out of town, recognize them.  Unfortunately, that particular relative I saw at the gas station happened to still be on the only visually- recognizable’s list.  Ah well, there’s always next year.

On after-school entertainment:

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After-school TV watching time…well, it’s usually just dvds as we use a digital antenna for anything live.  As a result we’ve got about 8 channels, 4 of which are in Spanish.  One of the English language channels is KBYU which plays a lot of religious programs along with family friendly entertainment.  Since it seems most of what is made today isn’t so clean, this station has had to dig into the archives, pulling up things from the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s.  So, on Friday, after the boys got done watching something like Arthur, I heard that old familiar haunt, the Brady Bunch theme music:  “Here’s the story of a lovely lady…” (AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! help.).  All it took was about 10 seconds of that before Douglas ran into my room and threw himself prostrate onto my bed.  There was no weeping or wailing or gnashing of teeth but there was one adorably spooked face that looked pleadingly at mine while saying, “The weirdest show just turned on in there!  Could you please change it?”  It might have been the tune, the boxed in kids, or the hair and cloths style, but whatever it was, it scared my poor boy and had to be stopped.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

“If these walls could talk…”

Mama’s Losin’ It Challenge

5.) If these walls could talk...

imageor ceilings 

If these walls could talk, first they’d ask us if we could remove the petrified boogers, spit-wads, and the mosaic of Cheetos hand prints, so they could see better. Now if the walls haven’t lost their hearing from the high-pitch squeals of people ranging from zero to 7, they might have something to talk about.  But there is still the chance that some of their mouths have been handicapped from dents, gashes, and pencil or crayon tattooing, thus making their stories slurred and maybe somewhat profane.  After all necessary mending has been taken place these walls would probably say the following:

Basement Wall being supported by tv couch (BWTV): Ack! ew, spiders are such nasty creatures, did you see what that one was just doing to that fly?

Adjacent Wall (AWW):  Well, you should see what’s going on in the window well over here.  Hey, look, those kids are coming down again to play!  Yipee!

BWTV:  I just hope they don’t hit my wall again.  Have you seen how dirty their feet can get and you know where they usually rub them?  On me!

AWW:  At least you get to watch TV with them.

BWTV:  Wonderful.  If I have to watch another episode of Blue’s Clues I’m going to start shedding paint!…Ah! Is that a gun? No, no, no!  Please don’t point that at me! Yes, that’s better, your brother will make a much better target and besides, suction cups stick better to foreheads than they do to walls with semi-gloss paint.

1st Boy:  Did you hear that?  It sounds like it came from the wall. 

2nd Boy:  That’s weird.  Walls shouldn’t talk!

3rd Boy:  Let’s get it!  Ready, aim, fire!

BWTV:  AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!  Let’s watch Blue’s Clues again!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

“Get me out of this stinkin’ fresh air!” (not really)

We camp because we fish and we fish because we camp.  Yes, it’s that logical.  Just today, I found a long forgotten suitcase containing the remaining cloths from our trip to Fish Lake.  I was positive before finding this bag that I had once had more cloths.  I was correct in my thinking only this collection still harbored the smell of campfire smoke, fish, and something like mint Rolaids, I think.  We had a great trip and after a day and a half I think we finally acclimated to the 8,500-ish foot elevation.  Good times!  Thanks dad for organizing this trip for us all!

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Lots of waiting and chanting of “here fishy-fishy-fishy-fishy” in subdued yet hypnotic tones.

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IMG_2723 [640x480]I meant to have more pictures but after the second day I just kept forgetting to bring it.  Sorry, we just need more photo documenters in the family.

Do punch stains make me look older?

Isaac enters the world of Four.  This is a belated update on Isaac turning four as he managed to do it last month. We’ve been having so much fun that mommy kept forgetting to put the pictures from the camera onto the computer.  Within minutes of acknowledging that he was “older”, he had new expectations as to what he should be able to do.  When he realized that mommy hadn’t signed him up for swimming lessons with his older brothers, he said with his big brown tear filled eyes, “but I’m older now.”  I still feel guilty that I didn’t sign him up too, but will certainly do it next time as I am such a sucker for those eyes of his.  One benefit that he has discovered by being older is that he gets to go to preschool!  I’m so glad he’s “older!”

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Of Tid-bits and Drill-bits

1.) Your trip to the ER...spill it.  (Mama’s Losin’ It Challenge)

imageTeeth are very functional and, when kept in good condition, can be helpful in enjoying one’s food, biting one’s enemy, and enhancing one’s smile.  So, despite my fear of dentists, I remembered my reasons for going and made an appointment for a check-up and cleaning.  At that time I was a few months pregnant with my now 4 year old son. 

My appointment went like many others I’m sure, the ritual of, “So, how often do you floss?  How much sugar do you eat?” And then the post x-ray expletives predictably followed by, “Wow, you’ve had a lot of work done!”  (I’m not a Buick, but yes, I have had a lot of work done).  Turned out I had a cavity and it was so small, they could handle it on that very same visit.  I kind of think that’s the best way to approach unwanted procedures (the same goes for OB appointments and certain uncomfortable routines performed in such offices).

After an ample serving of Novocain, my mouth was sufficiently numbed and ready for drilling.  The dentist and his assistant were very nice and did their best at carrying on, and translating, a conversation in Open-mouth (similar to Fish, but airier).  It is almost impossible not to swallow during such procedures and of course I did it quite often while specks of tooth, silver, and the previous night’s popcorn were quarried from my mouth.  Then it happened, mid-sentence between the words “augh and ugh,” that the dentist suddenly stopped and nervously asked, “did you just swallow?”  I then answered, “uh-huh.”  Even behind the dentist’s highly reflective glasses, I could sense the worry in his eyes.  He continued, “did you feel anything when you swallowed?”  By this time they had allowed my mouth to return to it’s normal position, still numb, but no longer limited to the abstract language of Open-mouth.  I told him that I had not felt anything but the worried look remained. He then said something like, “I’m not sure but, I think you might have just swallowed the drill bit and I’d like to send you to the ER right away to get it removed.  It might not have gone down, but just in case.”  Apparently drill bits do on occasion pop off but the lady with the water and sucker thingy get them before they go down the patient’s throat. So, off I went to the hospital.

The procedure went great with the aid of a still numb mouth and then a wonderful sleeping potion.  I woke up after the procedure feeling more rested than I had in months.  I will always remember that drugged state as the epitome of restfulness.  The doctor put some sort of scope and grabber down my throat and found the inch long, still sharp, drill bit somewhere in my intestines.  They gave it to me as a souvenir and I still have it with plans to get it encased in a locket to take to every dentist appointment to be held like a charm to ward off evil teeth demons.  Also, a reminder to any dentist of what can happen. 

My dentist naturally paid for the procedure and apologized several times.   After all was said and extracted, I felt like calling him and thanking him for the great nap.

Christmas 2017- The Case of the Giggles

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