Tim Recently Discovered He Isn't 16 Anymore

For Christmas I gave Tim some ski passes. He was like a little boy when he opened them. In Tim's glory days he was a major snow-boarder. Or so he tells me because since we've been married he has never gone. I prefer snow skiing....and even at that I'm not very good....and skiing is expensive when you are going to school and raising a family. Tim has been so excited since Christmas to hit the slopes and last Saturday he finally got his chance.

Tim took his snowboard that has faithfully been carted on 4 of our moves. The day started off with an omen of what was to come when he pulled out his goggles and they left, what I'm sure used to black but is now, orange foam particles all over his face. He took it in stride and said he thought he could get by without goggles. I sent him off and right before he left I told him not to do anything stupid. Little did I know that he had already done something incredibly stupid.

The first run of the day he took a hard fall and Tim thought to himself, "That didn't feel right." What was wrong was that both his bindings broke and his board was heading downhill sans Tim. Wes rescued the board and poor Tim had to haul himself and his broken board all the way down the mountain. Tim said he tried to ride it like a sled but he got going so fast and it was hard to steer. That is one funny mental picture.

After that he rented a new board and they were off. Wes and Tim thought it would be a grand idea to just skip lunch and keep going....all day...when this is Tim's first time boarding in over 8 years. Tim brought some snacks...Capri Sun and a granola bar. Um, yeah...great snacks Tim. On the last run of the day Tim started to feel a little out of it and thankfully a warming hut was right there so he told Wes he was going to go sit down. Tim got in the shack and the dude next to him asked him if he was ok and Tim said, "I think....." Boom. Tim passes out. The Ski Patrol bust in and administered oxygen and water out of what I'm sure could not be a sanitary coffee mug. He got to ride the tram down while sucking his oxygen. Exactly when it hit him that he wasn't 16 anymore I'm not quite sure? When his board is so dried out from years of neglect that it breaks, or when he saw the shack and needed to sit down, when his head hit the window, when people assumed he was from some coastal area and couldn't handle the altitude, or was it when he realized that he had eaten 3 waffles, not normal ones but Eggo waffles, with syrup for breakfast and nothing else save some sweets to last an entire day of snowboarding when the most exercise he gets in a day is pulling the lever on his office chair to raise it?

When he came home and told me this story I was part horrified, part amused, and part upset. My parting words that day were, "Don't do anything stupid." My advice was exactly an hour late when he consumed said waffles for breakfast. I love you Timmy. I'm glad you didn't split your melon when you passed out.

The Wicked Wax Witch

Since the day I started caring about the way I looked I have hated Salons. I know most women love the salon. Not me. I hate salons because for the most part the women that work there are mean, superficial, over-make-uped (not a word) little witches. I know just working at a salon doesn't make you a horrible person and I must exclude the girl who currently cuts my hair and Tim's sister.

I'm a natural kinda girl. I've come to accept the way I look and honestly I've come to a healthy self esteem where I think I look pretty good. Not so fast declare the people at salons. I always need to lighten my hair, darken my eyebrows, exfoliate my face, wax my upper lip and much more private areas. The not so subtle hint in their voice is, "You don't look very good and you would look a lot better if you allowed me to do xyz." I'm not totally anti-beauty treaments. I just like the result to look as natural as possible.

Now that you have the background I can vent about my latest trip to the salon. The truth is kids I have a uni-brow. It's not Sesame Street Bert but I do like my brows waxed regularly. There's a salon just down the street that can get me in whenever and there is a waxer that is really good and she uses hard wax so it's a ton less painful. For these reason I put up with Christy, the Wicked Wax Witch. Because of Tim's work schedule it has been awhile since I've been in. So sue me ok? The first thing Christy did was scold me for letting it go so long and comment on how crappy my tweezing job looks. I nicely informed her that I have three kids and a husband working a lot and so I don't get in as often as I would like. She suggests me bringing in the kids. Um yeah. I laughed right out loud and told her she wouldn't want my three kids in her little waxing room. She helpfully told me that I just need to make waxing a part of my routine. Routine lady? My routine is to make it through each day and not yell at my kids and help them become productive human beings. Sorry that waxing my eyebrows is not done as often as she would like. I not so nicely changed the subject and paint me purple and call me a grape if she didn't change it back to the lack of my eyebrow beauty. Telling me, not nicely, that my eyebrows are too light at the ends and that, "I really need to tint them darker." I'm sorry but you need oxygen not eyebrow tinting. So after she had expounded on how much better I would look she told me that I would not need to wear make-up if I would just let her tint my eyebrows and eyelashes. She then told perhaps the world's biggest lie when she said, "That's what I do. I tint my eyebrows and eyelashes and I don't wear any make-up except tinted moisturizer." I guess I've missed all the other people who were born with blue eyeliner and jet black chunky clumpy eyelashes. By this time I had told her twice that I wasn't interested in any tinting and she just kept talking. So I stopped talking and was seething inwardly. I couldn't say half the stuff that I was thinking because the last thing you want to do is tick off the person who is applying hot wax to your face.

At the end she said, "Are you on your way to work out?" Which I took to mean one of two things. She either meant, "I hope you are going to work out and that is why you are dressed in stretch pants and sneakers with no socks." or "You look fit so you must work out." I was hoping for the later because I had Claire 8 months ago and you know what they say about 9 months to put on the weight and 9 months off. I couldn't have been more wrong. Thankfully I said, "I'm not going to work out, why?" To which she replied, "Oh, your red and I wanted to put some make-up on you if you were going to be seen at the gym." I told her through gritted teeth I was just heading home and that only my kids were going to see me. She actually had the gall to say, "Well kids are so honest." Can you say VAIN!!!! By the time I left I was ready to explode!!

Do people like her ever stop to think for one split second as they are listing all my beauty flaws that perhaps I don't think they look good? That maybe I think the two inch stripes of blond hair amidst obviously black hair looks terrible and trashy. Or that it makes my eyes water to look at their eyes because I can't even see their pupil through the mass of mascara caked on. Oh but I forgot she doesn't wear make-up she was just born that way. Or that the backless shirt that has black lace over a black bra looks like you just stepped off the Vegas strip...the old one? Oh no, it's me who needs work. And in case there is any doubt about what work I need she is more than willing to tell me.

Cell Phone Please!

I have a major pet peeve going on. I'm sure it will lead me to say something inappropriate at some time in my life. At church on Sunday I saw so many people...not just teenagers....using their cell phones. It makes me want to scream. Seriously people, I make my 5 year old and 3 year old wait to have snacks, coloring books, etc until the sacrament is over and they make it. The very least you could do is leave your cell phone in your pocket until the sacrament is over. I mean come on!! Do people have such pressing matters that need to be dealt with while they are at church? While they are sitting in Sharing Time? I think not. I see that pinball game you are playing and really it is offensive to me and dare I say the Lord? Perhaps if I vent here I can stop the urge I have to slap their cell phones out of their hands and give them a piece of my mind.

It's Just a Little Crush

Claire apparently has a huge crush on Wes. Wes doesn't look like he minds it too much.

I'm a Closet Psycho...or So I'm Told

Per my New Years Resolutions I invited a family in our ward over for dinner on Sunday. We had a lot of fun and the mom likes to read so we were talking about books. We seemed to like the same books and she also watches the TV show Lost which I really like too. I felt like I had her tastes pegged pretty well so I suggested The Hunger Games. I like all different kinds of books and this one happens to be a favorite. It is a violent premise but I feel like the author dealt with it really well. I love the main character. Mostly, I really like this book and a lot of my girlfriends liked it too. I got Tim to read it and he loved it, I got my brother-in-law to read it and he liked it ok, my brother Nate read it and called me to see if I had read it because he liked it so well.

So my neighbor called me today and said that she can't believe I like this book. That she read a little of it to her husband before bed and it gave him a nightmare. When he woke up this morning he said, "Jessica read this book? She seems so shy and nice." I am nice and shy by the way. I'm not a psycho. Anyway she said I totally rocked their view of me. I called Nate to tell him what happened and to ask him what he thought since he really liked the book too. We agreed the book is violent but not gory in any way....Lost is much more graphic.

I said to Nate, "I'm very distraught. You don't understand, they think I am total weirdo now."
Nate - "Wait, how long have you lived there?"
Me - "About eight months."
Nate - "It was bound to happen that they figured out your a weirdo. I think it's amazing you kept it a secret this long."

Thanks Nate. I feel much better now.

Starting to Sound Familar

I love to tease Gage. He has the best laugh and he gets when I am joking and is pretty clever about joking back. If you know me, you know I tease the ones I love....much to Tim's dismay sometimes. Today, I told Gage that Claire had a messy diaper and I thought it was about time he started learning to change her diapers.

He laughed and said, "I'm not changing her diapers....no way!"
I said, "Well, when will you start changing her diapers? I could really use your help."
Gage - "Not until I'm 40 hundred."
Me - "What about when you're a dad? Will you change a diaper then?"
Gage - "Only if the Mom is gone."
Mom - "What about when your a Grand-dad?"
Gage - "Same answer as the Dad!"

Typical.

Hair Clips

Claire finally has enough hair that I can pull it to the side and put the tiniest little bendy hair clip into it. It looks so cute and really minimizes the dracula widow's peak she is working on. The only downside is that I think she pulled one out of her hair today and ate it. I hope it all works out in the end.....get it? Funny.

Adieu White Blankie

My kids are blankie kids. None of them took pacifiers but they have latched onto a favorite blanket....much like their mother did before them. The blankie soothes almost all hurts and is a necessity for sleeping. Gage had his white blankie, Luke has his Dog Blankie, and since Claire can't talk I'll name hers The Pink Blanket. Do you notice that in the last sentence Gage had his White Blankie? My relief society president gave me the White Blankie when Gage was born and he has loved it ever since....loved it so much that he practically loved the top right off it. When he saw the tear beginning he instantly took matters into his own hands and proclaimed that we had to consult Grandma Carol. She can fix or sew or make anything in Gage's eyes. She suggested that we just replace the top, but I felt like if we replaced the top it wouldn't be The White Blankie anymore, so I told Gage I would put it up until Grandma had time to fix it. Well, it's been in my closet for over a month now and he hasn't asked about it. I think that partly he was able to transition to a new blanket that he sleeps with kind of (the adorable boat quilt Carol made for him) but I think mostly he just doesn't need a blanket anymore. I even pointed out The White Blankie in an old photo when it was still white instead of gray and he said, "Oh yeah, that's nice." No emotion. How does that happen? Linus never gave up his blankie like so much trash. I feel like I've lost a good friend. For so many years that blankie was everywhere Gage was. And now....nothing! I guess he is growing up and I don't know why it makes me sad, but it just does.

I took this picture in my closet so he wouldn't see it because I don't know what scares me more....him having a blankie and being too old for it....or him not giving a care when he sees it.

My Big Three Year Old

I swear I blinked and Luke turned three. He's changed so rapidly the last few months and has fully left his babyhood behind. Tear gasp tear. One thing that has not changed is how darn sweet he is. He is the most affectionate and loving of my kids. Although Clarie is pretty snuggly and might de-throne Luke from that title. Too early to call. All month I have been working with Luke to hold up just three fingers and he kept saying, "I'm not that many!" Then He would hold up four fingers on each hand and say, "I want to be this many!" He kept telling people he was eight and then they would look at me like, "What kind of mother are you?"

Luke has recently discovered super hero's and Batman is his favorite. In honor of his new-found obsession we had a Batman Party. Batman balloons, Batman gifts, Batman colors, and a rousing game of, "good guy, good guy, bad guy"!

I decided to make him a Batman cape and I was actually quite impressed with my bad self that I whipped it out in a night with no pattern and with the help of Grandma Paulette appliqued the Bat Symbol on the back. I guess you still got your skills mama. The boys have been playing constantly with all things Batman, including the boy equivalent of a doll house, The Batcave. Luke chose a pink cake mix at the store for me to make because it smelled good. How he could smell anything through cardboard is beyond me. I don't really care for cake anyway but that pink cake was pretty bad. Alas, by his birthday he had mastered holding up just three fingers and now each morning when he comes into my bedroom at the unearthly hour of 6:30 am he proudly tells me he is, "This many!" Holding up the appropriate amount of fingers. It is hard to get mad about being awakened every morning by that little cutie.

I'm On Cloud Nine

After I finished potty training Gage I vowed I would never do it that way again. In some ways it marks a turning point in Gage's personality....seriously I think we warped him. We came to the conclusion that we forced him to do it too early and there was too much tension and anger involved. I've been feeling the pressure to train Luke. During Christmas break I decided to just do it even though he had shown no interest or even the propensity to take off his own clothes. One day into it I was starting to feel the all too familiar anger. On the first day he went poop three times and had peed his pants 6 times. I had a mountain of laundry in my bath tub and a sweet little boy who cried every time I said he needed to sit on the potty. The next morning I was on the phone with a new friend from my ward who has 5 kids all really close in age and her youngest is turning 5 this month. She told me to just wait until he turn 3. She believes there is something magical about the 3rd birthday. I whined, "But Melissa he turns three next month!" She insisted that it didn't matter that I should wait especially if he was crying. She's such a softie! I figured she must have something going for her since she has trained 5 kids so that second I put him back in diapers and I haven't said a word about the potty. There were random times during the month that he would suddenly sit on the potty and get down to business but I just praised him and he moved on.

Last Thursday Luke turned 3 (more details to follow) and Saturday I decided to try again. I told him that we were not wearing diapers anymore and I let him choose between about 10 pairs of super hero unders. Gage helpfully offered some of his, but Luke declined in favor of Captain America. I'm on cloud nine because since then he has had no pee accidents...he even made it through all of church. The other duty he has had a few accidents but yesterday and today he has sat and sat happily playing with his toys and done ALL his business. No tears. No dirty clothes. I love seeing his sense of accomplishment. He is so proud of himself and dutifully asks for his Starburst afterward. It is heavenly!!!

I read an article once that said a woman needs three types of friends. One with no children to remind you what you used to be like. A contemporary who can feel all your pain first hand. And one older mom who can give you advice. Melissa is my advice mom....although she hardly qualifies as older. I firmly believe that the Lord puts in our path the people we need the most. She called on a day I was in tears and ready to pull my hair out with stress and her advice was just what I needed.

It's so nice up here on cloud nine!! Way to go Luke.

I Have No Slant

I've always hated my handwriting and to my horror and dismay my sister Rachel told me the reason my handwriting sucks is because I hold my pencil incorrectly and with a death grip. Whose fault is that? Kindergarten teacher....Mrs Wilson what do you have to say for yourself. 1st grade....Mrs. Bush? Where was I? Oh yeah, so according to Rach, who has lovely handwriting btw, your letters are supposed to slant when you write cursive. She says it is all in the wrist. I've been practicing for a week and I still have no slant and I can't just hold onto the pencil lightly.