Fun For Friday

Let's begin this weeks Notable with a little preface. More into family history, which I know you are super excited about.

My Dad has a little bit of a wild streak in him. And I use the word "streak" lightly, here. It's so funny to me that a prude like my mom was never corrupted by him. No, she wasn't. Nope. No way. But oh boy, between my dad and his streak, Stevie and her antics, and Fred egging them on, there was no hope! For many, many years I was told that certain things were off limits to kids. The Hot Tubs at Lava Hot Springs. The Lake Powell beaches after sunset. I'm sure there are more, but I just can't remember right now. Of course, now I understand why we had been told these places were off limits, they had the right idea keeping us away! But once in a while, every so often, my dad would shed his protective skin, and "show some hair", and we would see more than we wanted. Many times Stevie was right behind him at the shoreline, waiting for him to take off skiing into the distance, and at the exact right moment, down go the drawers. I don't think this ever caused him enough anguish to even bother pulling them back up for a few minutes. So thanks to Nikki, here is another Noorda Notable. Enjoy.


Notable: Who can forget the many FULL MOONS we were privileged to see on our many water skiing trips. Full moons do look best over the water you know. Do you remember or were you to young and not easily impressed? (If you need a memory jog ask the fam) I believe I witnessed my first full moon of this variety in the presence of your family. (Oh, and can't forget the presence of Stevie and FRED)

Can anyone say HIT IT!!

For Today

Today's post can be seen over at the Cancer Sucks blog. It's just so much easier to add a link than it is to copy and paste. So click on over, and enjoy.

Mamma, Mia

My mom, she was the bomb. I still hate saying "was", by the way. But she really was. I guess a couple of weeks ago, a family friend, Perry Montoya (doesn't that totally make you want to say "my name is Perry Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die"?) That was a lot of punctuation right there at the end, wasn't it? I hope it was correct. Anyway, he called and said for Bingham High School's 100th anniversary, they wanted to put up a display of my mom's old Minerette clothes. Minerettes are the drill team for those of you uninitiated in the BHS-speak. She was Minerette president her senior year. She was very proud of that.

So the display is up, in all it's glory, in the Alumni room. If you're in the vicinity, swing on by and take a looky look. Also, be sure and check out Troy's mullet in the class of '89 SBO picture. He's a total ladies man, right Larissa? I think Jill has a pretty good legacy there as a cheerleader and a songleader, although I'm still not positive as to what the difference was. I, on the other hand, left a legacy of, well, zilch. Not a fan of the high school days. I was a gymnast and a diver, but then I figured out that a cool car and big boobs made life much easier than being athletic. Totally missed the whole "prepare for your future now" lesson in Humanities. Oops. Then there's Meg, the traitor. The first of the Brown family legacy not to graduate from BHS. But she paved her own road, and for all the right reasons. She still does that same thing today when it comes to life, so good for her. We love her anyway. So there you have it. Just because I know you were dying to know my family and our High School legacies. You're welcome.

Sucker Practice

Emma gets to play sucker, I mean soccer, again this year. She loves it. She really does. Me, not so much. I have such a deep appreciation now for all those years my mom sat through gymnastics meets, and swim meets, and diving meets, and cheerleading camp, and softball games, and even church volleyball games. I remember thinking that she probably had nothing else to do, so I felt like I was doing her a favor by getting her out of the house. How wrong I was.

Games aren't so bad. I enjoy the "competition" of it all. If you can call a group of girls swarmed around the ball laughing until they get their chance to kick it once a competition.

But the practices. Oh, the practices. Wow. Where to begin? First of all, the field we practice at is at an elementary school almost 30 miles away from our house. At 6:00 PM. Which means with traffic it takes us almost an hour to get there. Once we get there, we have to park. Usually a spot is around, but then there's the walk to the actual field. I kid you not, it is another 10 minutes. And mind you I'm pushing a stroller, carrying a diaper bag and a purse, Maggie usually has some sort of toy or blanket, we have to bring coats now, and what else? Oh yeah, the bulk of this 10 minute walk is through the mud. Stroller+Mud=Bad, bad things.

So by the time we actually make it to practice, I have had it. But we still have an hour to kill. And I use "kill" lightly. Last night, I don't think Gretta stopped screaming. You all know it, the Pterodactyl squeal she does. It's so pleasant. I'm sure it doesn't bother the other parents one bit. So we started walking the track around the field. Maggie takes off running, and takes a full on header onto the pavement. Blood, screams, and fat lips later, both kids are crying. What can I do? I laugh it off as one of those moments that is so going on the blog. And here it is. I keep my word.

I do love that Emma loves soccer. She is very talented. And I know she is healthy and happy. I guess in the scheme of it all, that's what really matters. So I'll continue my trek to practice every Tuesday night, and I'll do it with a smile, because that's what my mom did, and that's how it should be done.

And just so you know what kind of day it's gonna be at my house, I found a booger (not my own) on my mouse this morning. Yep, a click and stick kind of thing. Nice.

Veggie Tales

Many of you may or may not know of my fear of veggies. One type in particular. I am very afraid of raw tomatoes. Raw tomatoes are the bane of my existence. Okay, I may be exaggerating a little here, but it's mostly for effect, so cut me some slack. But seriously, they frighten me. The smell, the texture, the feel, it all just makes me cringe, and gag a little.

Yesterday we (neighbor Kate and FFU* Noel) decided to take the entire bushel of tomatoes I bought and make Mom's salsa. I needed their help, mostly to deal with the raw tomatoes. But due to kid issues, running to and from school, naps, and pooping, I ended up having to deal with the tomatoes for a time. I came to one conclusion: they look like testicles. You may realize this is the second time in about a month that I've referenced testicles. Maybe I'm obsessed (Sugar Daddy wishes!) or maybe I just have a sick mind. Let's just say I'm not obsessed, so make your own assumptions.


So we went from these beauties

To these beauties in only 8 short hours. Granted, there are these couple of dozen, and the other few dozen Noel and Kate took. But how cute are these jars? I just fell in love with them as soon as I saw them. I drove an hour each way to get them, and they were worth every penny. They are made by Weck, and the clips just did it for me. I think Sugar Daddy was a little miffed at the cost, but what the hay, it was worth it.


And after all that work, we all felt like this. Poor G, she was just done. She literally fell asleep where she was playing. Poor little thing. She slept here on the kitchen floor for over an hour while I closed up all the jars. Honestly, it was kind of nice to not have her tugging at my pants and pulling them down. Apparently she was a little sleepy. Plus, she didn't feel good. Obviously.

So now it's chips and salsa all around. And fajitas. And tacos. And enchiladas. And anything else you can pour home made salsa over. Yummy.

*FFU- Friend From Utah. Noel and I knew of eachother in High School, but weren't close friends. She was a year older than I. At our first week in our new Ward here, she tracked me down, and ever since then we've been fast friends. The Lord definitely works in mysterious ways.

Tickle, Tickle

I love my back tickled. So, so much. So much, in fact, that I've been known to beg Sugar Daddy to tickle me through an entire movie. Luckily he likes to tickle my back. Okay, I know he doesn't like it, per se, but he does it, so whatever.

I blame Stevie for my love of tickling. When I was a kid, we used to go boating all the time. Sounds like fun, huh? Well, me being the anxiety ridden child that I was, I was scared to death of the boat. And the wind. And the clouds. And I could go on and on. But alas, Stevie was there to comfort me. She would let me ride in their boat, sit on her lap, and she would tickle my back while we cruised along the shores of Lake Powell. So obviously I've related this act to being safe and relaxed. Which makes perfect sense when paired with a spouse, right? Right. Enter Happy's Body Trip back "massager". Totally not a massager. More like the best tickling machine ever! Seriously, this thing is like 100 fingernails all at once! I was in heaven through all of Michael Clayton. And considering it was a good "thinker" of a movie, it was definitely worth it's weight in copper.


And of course, since they were positioned right together on the end cap, we had to endulge in the Head Trip, too. Very nice. Very niiiice.

Funky Funk

Here I sit, adorned in my super sexy sweats, and my "CANCER SUCKS" T-shirt.
I indulged today in a little retail therapy in an attempt to make myself feel better. I raided Sephora, and scored some seriously crazy mad samples. I made home made pizza, bought an entire bushel of tomatoes, a gazillion other items of produce and cute imported German canning jars, and still I feel the funk setting in.

I think most of it has to do with the fact that I'm currently watching Stand Up For Cancer on EVERY.SINGLE.CHANNEL.

S∆4C

And really, it kind of pisses me off.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about having a cause. Hell, I still wear my CS T-shirt to the bus stop every morning. I even wore a yellow wristband for a while. But when suddenly you realize the empowerment is all for naught, it seems so, well, naught. Donate your money, people. Please do. But then don't come crying to me when your mom dies anyway.

Okay, I didn't mean that last part. You can still cry. But doesn't it seem so shallow? Do any of those "celebrities" even know what a real battle is? Have they had their liver shut down? Have they turned ugly shades of yellow? Have they been so weak they can't even lift their heads? I doubt it. So don't give me this literal song and dance and ask for help when not one of them gave a crap about us when our mom was dying.

I'm done.

Friday Fun

Okay, I feel like I need to indulge my grief a little here. It's almost like I can ignore it for a few days, but then it ambushes me, and I get completely overwhelmed. So in the interest of my mental health, I've decided to turn Friday Fun into a version of memory and laughter.

I will be highlighting Nikki and her Noorda Notables. I have no idea where she keeps these memories, because most of them had been long forgotten and stuffed away in the basement of my brain. So thank you, Nikki, for giving me a day of posting without much thought, but still conjuring up wonderful memories of my family. You're saving my sanity, and possibly my marriage! *don't read too much into that, you know who you are. there is no divorce action going on, so spare the rumor mill already.

Get on with it!

Way back when...about 24 yrs ago we had a combined YMYW activity where we were all given tickets to spend at booths in a carnival atmosphere. Away we all went spending our tickets on games etc. There were booths relating to scriptures and other gospel related things, pfft, who wanted to visit those. :) Well after a time the lights flashed and thunder sounded and the stage curtains opened up and there sat three men in white, Judgment Day! We were judged by our number of tickets, then divided into degrees of Glory. If you were sent to outer darkness you encountered Danny. It was....a dark classroom with no windows (the one that used to be by the bathroom), Electric Heaters and Flyswatters. Yes dark, heat and if you talked you were hit with a flyswatter. What should have been He** was actually so much fun, how can you not have fun being swatted with a flyswatter by Danny! :) Those of you who dont remember this probably made better use of your tickets than I! :)

Mom's Day Out

I thought after the kid got in school, it would be all naps and Wal-Mart for me.

I was so very wrong.

Turns out, I have to spend just about as many days in school as Emma does. Lucky me. Yesterday was one of those days. Now, don't go and think that I have to go sit with her in class (like my mom did with me until 4th grade) or anything crazy like that. It seems I have turned over a new leaf, and have finally overcome my social phobia. So now I get to volunteer in Emma's class every week. That was yesterday. Yesterday was also Maggie's first day of Speech Therapy. That's also at a school. A different school. So that made 2 schools in 1 day. Whew.

I know, I know. Some of you with 10 kids are like "Lady, what are you bitching about? Wait until you have to do PTO at 3 different schools, football, cheerleading, FHA, and VICA all in the same day!". I completely agree. You definitely have it harder than I.

But it's my blog, so I can bitch freely.

FYI, I also went to the library yesterday. I felt very Collegiate. Or maybe more Elementary. Whatever.

But for those of you wondering, thank you, Maggie's speech went well. Of course her intelligence is not an issue, she takes after her mother, but it's always good to see it on paper. She has a lot to say, it's just a matter of getting the words out correctly. And what did I do as soon as we left the school? Picked up the phone to call my mom. Again. Do you think I'll ever quit?

Craftay

Remember that fabric I posted the other day? (insert link to past post here, but I'm not doing it cause I'm lazy like that).

Looky at what I made.

I totally jacked this pattern off some lady's booth at Quilted Bear. It was super easy, and took only a few hours to make. This one is for Gretta, but it was supposed to be fore Maggie. Apparently that whole "measure twice, cut once" saying is true. Who knew! So there will be one for Maggie to follow shortly in the cutest brown and pink paisley with a brown polka dot ruffle and a brown and pink flower ruffle. I know, you can hardly stand it. Maybe I should start sewing in the middle of the night, huh? I could probably enhance all the girls' wardrobes sufficiently.

The Counting Sheep

1, baa.
2, baa.
3, baa.

I could go on and on. And on all night. I am having a little trouble sleeping. I have a couple of theories about my new friend, insomnia, though. You wanna hear 'em? Cool.

1. I stopped taking my thyroid medication. I was sweating all the time. Like All.The.Time. Just ask any of my sibs, and they can attest that I was, in fact, exuding hotness profusely. I think this has thrown my circadian rhythms out of whack.

2. I have stress. Not major, life and death stress, anymore, but more like a just -beneath -the- surface, itch- you -can't- scratch kind of stress. It's annoying. And with this kind of stress, if I do in fact fall asleep, as soon as any kind of sound is made, I am wide awake. Not cool.

3. My husband snores like a rockstar. And not like the Jonas Brothers kind of rockstar. More like an 80's hair band has-been kind of rockstar. Good heavens, it drives me up the wall! I swear some nights he is suffocating. And sometimes, I don't really care if he is. At least he would be quiet for a moment. Seriously, though. I love him, I do. But after this Removula surgery, it was supposed to be better. It really isn't. Bummer.

4. As soon as I get comfy, not too hot, not too cold, pillow just right, my brain swarms with words. Just random sentences. No plot or even correct grammar at times. It's very frustrating, what with the voices in there and all. Did I mention I hear voices? I know, you're not surprised. It's okay, neither am I. Or I. Or I.

Okay, so maybe tonight will be different. Maybe it won't. I don't really care anymore. One thing I do know, is if it isn't, I'm not taking it lying down anymore. Get it? Ha, I crack me up! I'm seriously doing something productive in the middle of the night. I can't take another 4 hours of watching the clock, drifting in and out, wondering if I'm awake or asleep. No more, I say.

What do you do with your insomnia?

Proof

Wow, that weekend flew by. In fact, it flew by in such a fashion that my camera never made it out of the bag until just last night. But thanks to a few random pics of our "party" last night, I have proof of our visitors.

Ken and Michelle drove up from Peoria on Friday night. It was so good to see them, and Tressa is such a big girl now! Although her size certainly doesn't deter Gretta from beating the crap out of her. But instead of posting a boring play by play, and no pictures to boot, I'll just do one of my most favorite blog items-Bullets!

• Lou Malnati's sausage-fest pizza. Wow. Lots o' sausage on that one.
  
• The Milwaukee Zoo. Yes, on the Saturday of Labor Day Weekend, oh, and during Harley-fest, too. 'Twas a tad crowded.
  
• 'Smores in the backyard fire pit.
  
• Church on Sunday. Nothing like arriving late, and leaving early.
  
• Cedar Lake Beach. Spent jimmy. 'Nuff said.
  
• Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. Like Sun Valley, but with a ginormous lake. Cold Stone brownie batter ice cream, the "Red Pony" boutique (yes, someone really named it that!), and no cell phone service.
  
• Monday night BBQ. And more 'smores.
  

It was a fun time. Now it will be good to get back to reality. I like the routine of getting up early (yes, it's me talking), and getting started on my day. The weather here is so nice, 70's pretty much all day except the high afternoon when it hits 80 or so, so that makes the mornings especially nice. So back to life, back to reality, back to the here and now.

Big Red Car

Tuesday brought a crazy day at our house. Crazy fun, that is! Thanks to J-Lo and Dubyah, we were able to get in to Six Flags (I almost wrote Sex Flags, how funny would that have been?) for free. It's nice to have friends with connections.

So the kids enjoyed Wiggles World with Dubyah while J-Lo and I did the big kid stuff. I love roller coasters. I really do.

I also love "Amusement Park People". You know the ones. Swimsuit under their too tight shirt, cottage cheese booty hanging out of their shorts, and white socks with unlaced black tennies. Yep. Classy. Here's G enjoying her popcorn while watching the "Wiggles-esqe" show. That job blows. I bet those dudes get major ladies. Not.

Mags on, and I quote, "the most beautiful horse ever". Yes. Yes it was.


And G getting her cowgirl on. Dang, that kid is funny. I just love her.

So we had fun. I had a funnel cake sundae, oh my heaven. The kids had churros for lunch, cause I'm a good mom like that, and I was 15 minutes late getting home and getting Emma off the bus. Again, cause I'm a good mom. Hey, she knows the garage code, and came right in and made herself a snack. She was cool with it. Hey, I was distracted by all the latest runway styles, okay?

Give Away Time

Okay, 'member how I said I wasn't giving anything away for NieNie day?

I lied.





My awesome neighbor Kate makes these adorable bows for her boutique, Jellybeans Boutique Bows. We're talking AD.OR.AB.LE. And she has so kindly offered up YOUR CHOICE of 2 sets (that's 4 bows total, people!) to be auctioned off. You can click here to see all the available colors. All you have to do is the following:

In the comments section of this post, leave your bid amount. Let's do it in full dollar amounts 'mkay?

At the end of the day today, let's say 8:00PM Central Time (that would be 7:00PM for you, Meg, and 6:00PM for you, Jill), the final amount offered up will be given the bows!

Now, if you are the winner, you must pay the amount offered to the NieNie fund. The donation button is on my sidebar, so feel free to click it. After you donate your offered amount, send me the link to your receipt page, and I will send out your winning bows!

edit: Please see here if you would like to participate in another great giveaway auction for NieNie.

Head, Shoulders, Nie's and Toes

Today is NieNie Day. Poor NieNie. Many of you have heard about her story. If you haven't, you can click here. I don't know her personally, as is the case with most of the world, but I feel like I do, and I love her all the same.

There are several auctions going on around the web in her honor, but most of the goody goods can be found over at Design Mom, so head over there and let the bidding begin.

So I know you're wondering what I'll be auctioning off on her behalf.

A new car!

Do I have your attention now?

Let's be honest. I could auction off some piece of crap home made business that will probably fall apart in 2 days time, or I could just support all those that actually have talent and could use the exposure. So just head to DM and do your thang.

What Shall I Do?

Look what I found today. Cute green, blue and pinky fabric. And what, you ask, will I be doing with this? You'll just have to wait and see.

But here's a hint.

I learned how to do a set -in elastic waist.
I love the internet. You can learn anything.

The Greatest Lake

We did something we've been wanting to do for a long time. On Saturday, after the kayak voyage, we loaded up the coolah, and headed over to slum it gangsta style in Zion on the beach of Lake Michigan. I'll be honest, it's a little scary over there. But that never stops us from having a great time. We were blessed with Kate and Pat's presence, and had some good laughs, mostly at their expense.

See that blue chair crumpled up on the ground back there? Yeah, Pat broke that one as he sat down. Oops. Now look more closely at Kate's perch. Yeah, she sat down and busted right through the fabric on that chair, too! Now if that had been me, I would have had the lowest self esteem moment of my life. Not that it would have been the first time I'd broken a chair, but that a whole nother post. But Kate, she just sat there and took the jokes. She's a trooper. A Super Trouper, maybe?

See that huge resort in the background? Doesn't that look like a nice place to spend the weekend? I don't think it's a place you'll be making a reservation at any time soon. It's a nuclear (nucular? GW Bush, anyone?) power plant. You'd think that would make the water a little warmer, no? No. Still freezing. I think the icebergs just melted last week, though.

Here's Maggie and her long lost twin, Madison. These two are soul sisters. They dress alike. They act alike. They're almost 2 years apart, but sometimes we can't tell them apart from afar.

And here's jungle Sean. As soon as he lied down, the kids were all over him. Notice Cayden (I fixed it, are you happy now?) head over heels over him. He thought that was pretty neat, and I think Sean liked the idea of having a boy to play with for a change. Don't get any ideas, that's not happening.

So aside from hanging in satellite Ensenada, and watching all the kids bathe in their Spiderman undies, and the freezing cold water and rocky shore, and biting flies and sand in every morsel of food, we had a pretty good time. Next time, no food items at all. Especially of the chocolate variety. Too sticky.

What You've Been Waiting For

One of the benefits of having your customized road bike stolen out of your garage in the middle of the day is the fact that the insurance company is very kind, and gives you a big fat check. The other benefit is that you can choose if you want your butt to be sore after a ride, or your arms, neck, back, and abs to be sore after a paddle. I chose the latter. This is moi, paddling out on our lake. It was a gloomy, overcast day, with a brisk wind, and only in the 60's. Meg, you would have hated it. Me, I was in heaven. I paddled out to the island, around the other side, and back again. Only an hour voyage, but we had other things to do that day.
And here's what the kidlets did whilst I paddled away. Don't worry, I didn't just leave them alone on the beach. Obviously, since someone had to be there to take the pictures. Sean stayed on shore (he's not an agua lover) and made sand castles and rivers with the girls. Here you can see Gretta does not share his fear of the water.
And Emma showing off her Olympic debut. I remember doing this when I was a kid. We called them "cherry drops". Jill was always way better at them than I was. She was better at a lot of things than I was. Still is. Man, I miss you guys.

Anyhoo, I love the kayak. Love.it. There is just something about being out on the water, nothing but me and the waves, the sound of the paddle slicing through the water, and knowing that I can be out there as long as my heart desires. Or until the kids are ready to leave.

This One's For You

I admit it. It's hard. It's hard blogging, and posting adorable pictures of my adorable kids. (I'm humble, what can I say.) It's hard knowing that my mom won't be on the other side of this blog to appreciate all the latest upgrades. She won't be there seeing Gretta's curls. Or the fact that she only has 3 teeth on the bottom.
She won't be there to see Maggie's big blue eyes, and strong lips. She won't be sitting in her office chair, taking a break from the latest phone call, or game of Free Cell, to take a look, and be transported to my world for just a few minutes through this blog.

It almost makes we want to stop blogging.

For some reason it just feels more empty now. Don't get me wrong, I blogged long before my mom ever even knew the internet existed for things other than porn. (Wait, that makes it sound like all she did was look at porn. She never looked at porn. She just thought only sickos used the internet, not good upstanding moms like us.) And before she read this blog, it made me feel more fulfilled just because I was keeping a journal for myself. But now, since she used to read and comment every day, I feel like I'm not even blogging for me anymore. I used to look so forward to the latest pic or story I would post, because I knew it would make her day. And maybe make her less mad at me for moving away. I guess I'm just in a blog funk. Bear with me.

I just know this picture would make her day. Little footprints down the driveway. And for anyone that knows my mom, knows how much she loved the poem "Footprints", so it's just perfect. So mom, this one's for you. I love you. And I miss you every day.


Again, sorry for the sad, lame-o post. Stay tuned later this week for some mad beach action, the Latin Festival, the Maiden Kayak Voyage, and the Aquarium. I know, you're on the edge of your seats.

Gettin' There

Alrighty. It's been a long, gluttonous summer. A diet of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (mmm), and Diet Pepsi does not a flattering figure make. So it was off to exercise class again. It's the getting there that's the hard part. No, I don't have to scale large mountains, or cross large rivers. I don't even have to pull a handcart or walk, for that matter. I get to drive my comfy Vangina a total of 2 miles, to a nice air conditioned church cultural hall. But still, it's, um, harrrd.

But I made it.


And when we arrived, it seemed the door was locked. But there were kids in there! It took them a few minutes to realize there were no parents around. I guess the key-lady opened the door, the kids ran in, she reached back out to get her new baby, priorities!, and the door was closed. Oops. I saw it as a sign that we should go back to bed. Nobody else really did. Losers.



So we did a little jumping and kicking and stretching to a very cool mix of excellent 80's music. I love some of those songs, they bring back the best memories of sitting in my brothers room in the basement, it had carpeted walls!, and thinking I was da bomb because he was (is) so cool.


And then, on the way home (not really on the way, more like the total opposite way but whatever), I had to stop and get a $1 large Diet Coke. I mean, come on people, I can't just give it up cold turkey. Remember, I've tried that, and lasted approximately 2 hours. But here is proof that I can still stretch. Yes, that is my leg all the way up on the counter top. I guess the exercise thing isn't so bad. I just need the getting there part to be better.