An Early Christmas Gift

We interrupt your regularly scheduled

blog reading 

for a trip to Orlando.

See you in October.

Welcome to Tinseltown (and Other Compromises)

Kennedy: Would love to have highlights in her hair to add some razzmatazz.

Kristen:  Recalls the days of her Jr. High youth when it was only the naughty girls who had their hair colored. At least that's how it was at BJH.

Compromise:  Went to salon-a-la-Randee for some hair blingity-bling. Hair tinsel.  It is tied into your hair and is temporary (usually falls out when your hair naturally sheds or you brush too hard).  Kennedy went for purple and pink (not nearly as dramatic as the picture on Randee's salon blog).  It is very subtle but just adds some shine and sparkle. While she now has a little sass in her mane, she still looks very much like a nice girl (which she is).  

{click to enlarge}

All parties are happy with the compromise.

******

Kennedy: Would love to have her own cell phone.  Feels she needs one because of the after school games she has to go to as part of her officer duties. Some game days, when they travel by bus, she doesn't get home until 5:30 p.m. and by then the school office is closed.

Kristen:  Hates the whole cell phone epidemic with teenagers.  HATES teenage texting. Has entirely too much to say about the topic and has her own soap box packed and ready to use at a moment's notice.  Agrees with Kennedy that cell phones are good for safety and convenience reasons. 

Compromise:   Kennedy, Taiden, and Britt will share a family phone.  The phone stays in the kitchen unless it is needed for one of the following reasons: after school games or activities, going to the swimming pool, park, on a bike ride, etc... without mom or dad, going somewhere with friends, any other reason that having a cell phone would heighten safety and peace of mind. HOWEVER, there is no texting plan with this phone.  

All parties are (mostly) happy with this compromise. (The 13 year old would still love to text.) 

******

Jeff: Idea of a great family vacation is to spend a week camping and enjoying the great outdoors.  Kayaking, hiking, campfires, sleeping in the wild, and grit under his nails.  No crowds, noise, or overstimulated senses. Becoming one with nature and purging stress and fatigue.  Using latrines and giving high 5's to mosquitoes.

{Dad's Near Death Trip '09}

 

Kristen:  Idea of a great family vacation is to spend a week at any Disney themed area.  Not picky.  Could be Anaheim, Orlando, France, Tokyo, or in the middle of the ocean on a Disney themed boat.  Loves the energy that comes along with going to any of the Happiest Places on Earth and loves the thrill of experiencing it with her kids over and over again.  Having been born in southern California, anything Disney reminds her of her childhood and of going home to that time.

{Brittan '04}

Compromise: Jeff's vacation choice wins out April - August and Kristen's wins out in the off season. Camping, kayaking, Echo Lake in the summer.  Orlando in the fall.  To ease Jeff back into the world of princesses and pixie dust, Kristen promises to do the following:

1.  Smuggle in an inflatable kayak so he can paddle over to Tom Sawyer's Island and camp out there for awhile.

2.  Point out that even in themed parks, there are plenty of animals around. Mice, ducks, bears, rabbits, dogs, and birds.  Even exotic animals like elephants and Tiggers and huffalumps.

3.  Take a picture of him dancing with the belly dancers at the Morocco Pavilion in Epcot for bragging rites.  

4.  Hike over to Expedition Everest and come face to face with a yeti.

5.  Observe the night sky and stars from another part of our country.

  

All parties are happy with the compromise.

******

Shaw: Likes sleeping in between mom and dad.  Will take a power nap from 8:00 - 10:00 p.m. and then wake up wailing as though his bed is on fire.  This production of Come Get Me NOW 'Cause I Can Keep This Up All Night Long and Wake Up My Three Siblings, always works. The other kids have to sleep (3 boys sharing a room is not working).  Shaw knows this and plays on our current square footage shortage.  (Never underestimate the rational and fully comprehending mind of a 17 month old.)

Kristen and Jeff:  Don't like that sleeping arrangement one bit.

Compromise:  Shaw starts out in his own bed.  10:00 p.m. hits, the thrashing begins and he triumphantly makes his return downstairs.  Queen bed + 2 adults + 1 restless toddler = dark circles and baggy eyes.

All parties are SO NOT happy with the compromise (or lack thereof). Little Shawski has big changes comin' his way when we get back from our vacation.  

{Note to self:  remember to call neighbors about possible crib transfer over to their house starting sometime in October; promise a bottle of homemade vanilla}

Keepin' it Real

I'm posting this brief confession for Jeff's sake.  He wondered, with a smug look on his "Ed"ish face, if I was willing to post about all facets of my life.

Yes, I am.

***

I ran out of gas yesterday.

In front of my kids' school.

My boys had to walk, just a couple of blocks, to their dentist appointment.

I had to call a reliable "go to" gal in my ward.

Luckily, she stock piles gas and had an abundance on hand.

I guess using all of my gas up, by going to Tai Pan Trading with a friend, isn't a smart thing to do.

And forgetting to get gas on the way home is an even un-smarter thing to do.

In the future, when my check gages signal lights up in my car, I will pay closer attention.

It's not fun running on fumes.

'Cause a car won't run on vapors.

And neither can we.

In life.

Is it Just Me?

A.  Am I the only one who got this joke from my last post?

(Speaking to G'pa Hoover) "I hope you're not a member of AARV."

Jeff usually gets all of my cryptic jokes but he had to ask me about this one. Did anyone else get it besides me and my abstruse mind?  Perhaps I was reaching too far and missed the humor of the masses mark.

B.  Does anyone else think that Lagoon trail, heading north from 300 N. until in reaches Main Street, smells exactly like sweet pickles?

Call me crazy (my kids and husband do) but that portion smells just like home canned bread and butter pickles.  The potency is intensified at the half way point. When you go for a run, or a power walk, or saunter, inhale deeply and you'll see what I mean.  Jeff informs me that it is just the fallen fruit from the trees that is smelling fermented and vinegary. I personally think there are hidden jars of pickled cukes lining the path so that passerbyers have something to discuss over the dinner table.

Or, perhaps, blog about.

C.  Does anyone else think that my hubby has a remarkable resemblance to Tom Cavanagh? 

You know, from of the cancelled TV show  - Ed.  Not only in looks but in quirky humor and kooky cuteness.  The show was taken off air years ago (much to my dismay - it was one of my favorites)  but we still have friends who call him "Ed".  Some of his clients have made the same comparison.

D.  Does anyone else ever do stupid things like this?

No, I am not talking about the disheveled scissors, and pencils, and pens, and markers all shoved into the same cup holder.  I'm talking about the toothbrush.  MY toothbrush.  The kids pointed it out to me one afternoon.

Good thing I found a replacement.  I guess it was a busy morning.

E.  Does anyone else agree that this is an awesome "self reflecting" spot for rambunctious boys?

F.  Can you think of anything cuter to watch, on a Sunday afternoon, than a toddler frantically slurping down a juice box without taking a single breath?

The whole time he drinks his juice I keep thinking, "breathe...breathe...breathe".  His eyes start bulging due to lack of oxygen.  I could just gobble him up whole.

Also, as is apparent in this video, Brittan has taken a liking to singing his Primary songs Southern Baptist style.  "I believe in my Savior Jesus Christ..." has never been sung with such gusto and supreme verve.  I'm sure the Primary President is glad we'll be on vacation next Sunday when the kids do the Sacrament program.

A Moment of Silence

Dear Great Great Grandpa Hoover,

You have had a long and productive existence. Unfortunately, Monday you just gave up the ghost.  As I write this blog post, I feel somewhat ashamed of your temporary resting place.  A large, black receptacle doesn't seem respectable for a vacuum of your age and rank.  In a few short days, you will be away from us forever.  Out in the landfill amongst other broken and decrepit housewares.

I guess it's better than a watery grave?

For 16 years you've been a part of this family.  One of the oldest things we've owned as a couple. An original wedding gift.  Even when you hit your mid-life crisis and stopped being able to give us your power surge, you just kept on cleaning and taking our abuse.  Abuse in the form of overloaded bags, face plants into walls and furniture, and having to chew up your own cord when we made you run over yourself.

I hope you're not a member of AARV. 

Moving on, we liked you well enough that we stayed within your family tree. We picked up a new, flashy youngster that bears your noble Hoover name. Your Great, Great Grandson.  I will admit he's a bit more flashy, and boastful, and hi-tech.  But that sucker still weighs as much as you do.  

You Hoovers may need to consider a diet.  You're killing my back.

One thing that you had, G'pa Hoover, that your firecracker of a Grandson doesn't have, was the capabilities of vacuuming SHAG carpet.

What'dya think of that, little Windtunnel showoff?

He also seems a bit patronizing.  See below?  He has a green and red light that flashes on and off to indicate when the floor is clean.  "Green means clean".  I guess I'm just a dumb housewife who needs help determining whether my floor is dirt-free?

Yes, there is an arrogance and attitude about this punk with allergen filtration.

Shaw will put him in his place.  He'll have his attachments all in disarray and scattered throughout the house in no time.  Let's see how tough Hoover the second is when slurping up baby drool.

Farewell, Gramps.    

And know that we won't soon forget you.  Every time I see your handle, lovingly removed by my son the scavenger, I will think of you and your self propelling willpower to serve our family for 16 years.  And worry not, for if your heir does not live up to his name, he will be swiftly driven back to Costy-Co.

Where he will forever live in shame in the returned pile.

Idle Hands are the Devil's Workshop

So go to this website for hours upon hours upon hours of projects. Projects that are sure to keep the boys (and girls) (and husbands) in your home lackadaisical-free.

That last sentence made it sound like I am insinuating that you have more than 1 husband in your home.  I certainly would never assume that.

My apologies.

Darth took Jeff a long time.  I'm thinking about 1 hour from start to finish?

I can NOT guarantee that your children will come through unscathed.  A paper cut or two may occur.  Please don't hold me responsible.

I recommend printing these guys on card stock.  This Storm Trooper is smooshed because 10 year old hands aren't always precise and meticulous with flimsy computer paper.

The Garbage Can Analysis: Our Personalities Revealed

Here is the object of our study...

...our kitchen garbage can.  This white Rubbermaid is hidden snugly in a corner cupboard so as to not emit noxious fumes that may overwhelm fragile sniffers or those with sensitive schnozzolas.

With 6 people residing under 1 roof, this vessel of rubbish tends to fill up quickly and aggressively.  Scraps of uneaten food.  Empty cartons of this and that.  Boxes of breakfast morsels and crackery goodness.  Rinds, and cores, and peelings, and stems.  Typical, all-American slop that shows we are well fed but not yet recycling savvy.  

(The latter will shortly be changing because our town will soon be recycling curbside with the rest of you green thinkers.  Hallelujah!  I'm glad.  I don't need any more rain forest or landfill guilt resting on my shoulders.)

When this tower of trash reaches unthinkable heights, there only seems to be one person in the house that takes notice.

That person would be me.

4 other individuals (Shaw is off the hook for now) completely capable of seeing the architectural instabilities of the rising garbage level.  4 individuals completely capable of comprehending that building the heap upward from the can will end badly.  Splattering, and spilling, and toppling, and dripping, and oozing. 

But again, I am the only one who has the wits for such rocket science.

It's at times like these, when the trash has cascaded and leaked down the side of the can and onto the, now, sloppy mess on the floor, that I grab the can, place it in the middle of the kitchen floor and wait.

Wait to see if anyone has the wherewithal to actually empty the garbage.

Anyone besides myself.

The fascinating thing is that the way each person reacts to the looming garbage can, in the middle of the kitchen, truly reflects each of our personalities.  It's quite telling.

 

Jeff - Our ever busy provider, husband, and dad sees the can in the middle of the kitchen, makes a mental note that it's new placement is quite convenient. He now doesn't have to waste 1.3 seconds opening the cupboard door and any extra time in his daily routine is precious. Although pleased with the cans relocation, he does take note of produce that has fallen by the wayside of ripeness.  Fruit and veggies that have gone uneaten and have rotted away along with his hard earned money.  The sacrificial celery, from the back of the fridge, that is now wilty and flimsy.  

The can remains unemptied. 


Kristen - "I'll be $%&@ed if I'm going to empty that garbage again!  That can will sit in the kitchen unto kingdom come.  I'm not a maid.  Am I the only who can see around here?"  My blood pressure will rise each time I pass near it, my temperature will approach the boiling point, my heart will race and my desire for order and cleanliness will inch me towards taking care of it myself, but the stubborn Scottish streak in me prevents it from happening.  Instead, I march out of the kitchen, slam my bedroom door shut, and curl up into a ball in the corner.

"Somebody, please make it go away!"

Kennedy - Walks into the kitchen singing her latest iTunes download, sees the garbage can, detects the smoldering gases it is now billowing and bellows, "MOOOMMMMM!  The garbage REEEEEKS!  EW!  GRRRRRROSSSSSSSSSS!"

The can remains unemptied.



Brittan - Comes into the kitchen looking for a sweet treat and notices the can. He starts rummaging through it's contents looking for things that can be salvaged for building purposes. Boxes, tubes, cardboard, cans.  Anything that might resemble a robot part or warfare piece. I usually catch him in the act and tell him that the trash is the trash and to leave it as trash.

Again, the can remains unemptied.

Shaw - Is taking the doctors suggestion to put on a few pounds seriously (he's only in the 15%ile for weight and needs to bulk up a bit).  Shaw sifts through the trash looking for scraps from previous meals.  He'll nibble, and gnaw and then start throwing out rubbish by the handful.  The kid is fast with the flinging.

The contents of the can are emptied at this point.  All over the kitchen floor.  I uncurl myself from the fetal position in my bedroom corner, and shakily pick up the carnage.

Taiden - After pillaging the refrigerator where he has probably eaten a yogurt or made a snack that has most definitely been doused with ketchup, he looks in the corner cupboard for the can. He can't find it. He calls to me, "MOOOMMMMM!  Where's the garbage can?"  I, congested from a lot of ugly crying, nasally whimper, "Taiden, it's right behind you.  In the middle of the floor.  In plain sight.  With greenish-hued vapors rising from it."  He turns.  He looks.  He sees it.

And the garbage can gets emptied.

A Hearty Dose of the Good, the Bad, and the Good

This post is mostly for my own personal record.  Not one incident is truly blog worthy, so I'm combining them all into one lengthy entry.  I apologize if it's a snoozer.  Blog worthy themes have been lacking this past little while. You've probably already noted that.  Thanks for being patient.

These past 6 days have proven to me that you never know what's coming around the corner in this earthly life.  Most of my days are spent doing fairly normal things and experiencing life in a generic tone (with a few hiccups of excitement or frustration here or there).  But these past 6 days have mixed things around and shown that I should always be on the lookout because trials and blessings come skipping down my street hand in hand. 

1. Friday night, we went with our good friends, Randee and Jeremy Mitchell, to the Bountiful LDS Temple.  I love the temple and the peace that I feel there.  I'm ashamed to say that I don't get there nearly as often as I should (especially since it is a mere 15 minutes from my house) but it was a wonderful experience and it was fun to go with friends.  After the temple, we stopped by my parent's home to check on the kids and introduce the Mitchells to my parents.  My dad had promised to be on his best behavior, but for him that means making the effort of dressing up in his Christmas plaid pants, donning a striped dress shirt, putting on a necktie with one side hanging really long and the other side ultra short, and parting his hair down the middle so that he had a very close resemblance to Alfalfa. It's because of experiences like this that I have spoken those 3 special words to my dad all of my life - "Don't embarrass me!"  We went to the Sego Lily Cafe afterwards (see suggestion in sidebar) and then went for Nielson's Frozen Custard.
2. Saturday, Jeff decided to venture out kayaking with the 3 older kids.  He took his brother, Ryan, as backup in case the kids started a mutiny.  He checked the water levels in the morning.  He thought he'd be fine.  But because the water is controlled by the higher ups (not sure who that is or what their credentials are) the levels can change without warning. Long story short, my kids shouldn't have been on a kayak by themselves. Within 5 minutes of being in the swift current, they hit a tree and capsized.  As they were freaking out and crying because they were now in the water rather than being on top of it, and were splashing around like they were going to be swallowed alive by the Weber River Gods, Britt stood up and said, "Hey guys, I can stand!"  The water was less than 3 feet deep. How they didn't scrape their knees on the rocky bottom while they were panic stricken is beyond me.  Jeff ended up ditching his kayak and riding down with the kids the rest of the way.  The good?  My kids were safe and I didn't kill Jeff (for putting them in a scary situation).  The bad? When the kids tipped over, they lost a $90 paddle that was borrowed and that had to be replaced. Jeff earned himself a very short leash when it comes to future high adventure outings with the kiddos.
3. I've been more irritated than a Pit Bull with hemorrhoids over the whole Obama speech controversy.  Jeff keeps telling me to let it go and I've simmered down a lot, but I'm still irked.    
4. Jeff put his Honda Civic on KSL.com to try and sell it.  Within 48 hours, he'd had a dozen calls, 6 emails, and several people wanting to come see it.  Nothing but positive responses for the condition of the car and the price.  Except for one email in which a guy called Jeff a nasty name, ridiculed him for trying to sell it for that price, and just being an ornery son-of-a-gun.  Why do people have nothing better to do with their lives than to email strangers and be mean?  I don't get it.  Maybe they just need a hug or someone to tell them their mullet is looking extra nice that day. Who knows!  Anyway, Jeff should have the car sold in the next couple of days and should get full asking price.  For this we are grateful.
5. BYU beat Oklahoma!
6. Yesterday, we found out that our new interest rate for our mortgage is 3.625%.  That will be saving us $111 per month on our mortgage payment. This is locked in for the next year!  Woo-hoo!  Pennies from heaven that will go towards paying off rocks in sewer lines.
7. I've had the chance to do some house cleaning with a friend to earn some money for our upcoming Florida trip. Again, I am most grateful.
8. Last night, as I was picking Taiden up from scouts at our church, I saw a man and woman walking down the street while heavily involved in an argument.  The man was being very physically rough with the woman and yelling profanities at her.  She kept trying to get away but he would push and grab at her and was trying his hardest to block her way.  I didn't have my cell phone with me so I jumped in my car and followed them down the street.  I AM SO TIRED OF MEAN AND IGNORANT PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD!!!!  I could tell that they weren't drunk or strung out on anything.  I pulled over, asked the woman if she needed help, but she said, "No, I'm fine."  The guy was relentless and kept up his aggression towards her.  By then, one of the scout leaders had followed me and had pulled over too.  The guy finally realized that I wasn't going anywhere and decided to stop and walked off in another direction.  The woman continued on and I followed her until she was around the corner, at which point I asked her again if I could help or if she needed a ride somewhere. Before you question my judgement, let me assure you that I had a feeling of peace that she was safe to pick up and that she was just someone who needed my help at the moment.  I never would have picked up a stranger had I not had that confirmation within me. I drove her to the courthouse west of the freeway where she said her sister was going to pick her up. We didn't do a whole lot of talking (it's hard to make small talk with someone who has just been assaulted) but I felt like I needed to say something.  So, I said, "I don't want to butt into your business but you really don't need to put up with that.  That's not OK, and that's really not cool."  She nodded her head and agreed.  Whether or not she truly realizes that I will never know. Not our typical ride home from scouts, that's for sure.  Yes, things like this happen even in Mayberry.

One Foot in the Grave

Ryan, Jeff's youngest brother, was over for Sunday dinner yesterday. Brittan was his usual motormouth.  Poor kid.  When he has a new audience, he tries to get in as much dialoguing as possible.  He has no personal space awareness and often is glued to his listener.

He also has no filter.

...

Brittan:  Dad,  how old are you?

Jeff:  39.

Brittan (to Ryan who was sitting next to him on the couch and who he had been making casual conversation with): Oh, your brother's going to die pretty soon, Ryan.

...

May you live your life to the fullest in these last remaining days, Honey. Who knew that almost 40 is the new almost 90?

Seriously?

Post preface: I don't  get involved in a lot of conversations regarding the political world. Mainly because conversations I've had among family and friends don't usually end well and views and opinions run deep into people's souls.  To the core of their beings.  You tell someone you disagree with their political views and it's like you just kicked their dog or pinched their (ugly) baby.  Jeff and I will discuss and banter because we've learned to agree to disagree.  Neither one of us like to sleep on the couch, so we kiss and make up.  I also know that he's a crazy Canook so he doesn't know much and he knows I'm just an imbecile of a housewife so I don't know much either.  It's an even wash.

(Don't be hatin' on me, Canada!  You know I love you!)

While we both have generally viewed ourselves as Republicans, he voted for Obama and I voted for McCain.  So, in a sense, we cancelled out each other's votes.  That's how much political clout we have.  

...

Since it's swarming in the media, I know that most of you probably received the same letter or phone call I did yesterday.  The ones with concerns over the upcoming address our current President plans to deliver to the students of this nation. The ones letting parents opt out of having their kids watch the address during school via TV. 

By the way everyone is reacting, you'd think Obama was going to deliver the first ever Presidential address on sex education.  With graphic posters and correct anatomical vocabulary.  And free samples.

I really don't get what all the fretting is about.  He is our elected President.  He is the leader of our country.  I'm assuming he just wants to encourage our students to stay in school, work hard, live up to their potential, and make the most of their education.  You can see more about it here.

What's the harm in that?  

Am I missing something?  Is there a hidden message or agenda somewhere there that I, in my imbecilic mind, can't see?

Not everyone likes Obama or his politics.  That is fine.  But he is our President and, because of that, I will continue to have respect for that office.  Does it mean I have to agree with everything he says?  No.  Does it mean that I have lost a voice of my own of how I think things should be handled in this country?  No.   But just because my views may or may not always be in line with his, it does not discredit his position nor does it make him all bad or all good.  HE IS OUR PRESIDENT.  He is in a position of leadership.  Our countries' freedom to vote put him there.  So whether or not you like what he is doing every second of everyday, does not make him a saint nor the devil incarnate.

We've forgotten how to be fair in this country.

I remember when Pres. Reagan was shot, I was in 3rd grade.  All the students in our school wrote "get well" cards to him and we sent him bags and bags of jelly beans - that being the presidential candied treat of his choice.  We were so excited to have some type of small connection with our President.  Though we'd never meet him face to face, we were aware of him and he was aware of us.

But were people all up in arms thinking there was some political propaganda that we were being put through in the form of telling the President we were sorry he got shot?  I think not.

So, now we have a situation in 2009 in which our President wants to talk to our kids.  Not about stimulus packages and health care reform, or clunkers for cash, or the housing market. He wants to take the time to talk to them about what they are ALL experiencing right now.  A common thread - their schooling.  He, of all people, should be the one to deliver such an address. As the first American elected as President without Caucasian coloring, he has PROVEN that if you work hard, don't let shut doors get in your way, and never give up, you can do anything.  Anyone can have success if they are willing to work for it.  

He wants to talk and encourage and uplift.

But we're not willing to let him do that?

Really?  I guess we haven't come as far as I thought.

Saw This on Oprah Today

Just Another Day

Today I vacuumed up an entire box of Banana Nut Cheerios 

off my family room floor.

What did you do today?

{If your day has anything to do with pedicures, pina coladas, power lunches, or a fat paycheck, then I'd really rather not hear about it.}

Sorry.  It's just been one of those days.