Something I Can Relate To

I claim the 80s as the era of my childhood. And while my mother would like to erase that decade in history, I have nothing but the fondest of memories during that time (explanation follows).

I now present you with 21 reasons to love the 80s
(unfortunately I can't take credit for creating the list).

1. Ending a sentence with the word SIKE.


2. Two words: Hammer Pants


3. You got super-excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.


4. You made your mom buy one of those clips that would hold your shirt in a knot on the side.

5. You played the game "MASH"(Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House)


6. You remember reading Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and all of the Ramona Quimby books.


7. You ever wore fluorescent clothing. (some of us...head-to-toe)


8. You can remember what Michael Jackson looked like before his nose fell off and his cheeks shifted.

9. You traded Garbage Pailkids in the schoolyard.


10. You remember Hypercolor t-shirts.


11. You thought your childhood friends would never leave because you exchanged handmade friendship bracelets.


12. You ever owned a pair of Jelly-Shoes.


13. After you saw Pee-Wee's Big Adventure you kept saying, "I know you are, but what am I?"


14. You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates.


15. You have ever played with a Skip-It.


16. Don't Worry, Be Happy


17. You wore, like, EIGHT pairs of socks over tights with high top Reeboks.

18. You wore socks scrunched down.

19. You tight rolled your jeans.


20. You owned a bannana clip.


21. You had big hair and you knew how to use it.

If Money Grew on Trees ...

"It's a good thing I don't have a money tree outside my house," I thought to myself last night as Nicole and I perused the aisles at a mega Barnes&Noble. So many, many books -- and so adorable, too! I would buy enough to fill all of the living space in our little apartment and then we'd have nowhere to keep our food.

Instead, we check them out from our library, which Nicole is quite happy to do. But me, I want to read the favorites over and over again! Here are some of our recent reads; give them a try -- these are stories for adults and kids alike.

• 100th Day Worries by Margery Cuyler
• Bounce! by Doreen Cronin
• Chicka Chicka Boom Boom by Bill Martin
• Dream Hop by Julia Durango
• How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? by Jane Yolen
• Mercy Watson to the Rescue by Kate DiCamillo
• Mrs. McBloom Clean Up Your Classroom by Kelly DiPucchio
• Raising Sweetness by Diane Stanley
• The Mixed-Up Chameleon by Eric Carle
• The Quiltmaker's Gift by Jeff Brumbeau
  
• The True Story of the Three Little Pigs by A. Wolf by Jon Scieszka
  

Never ... Again

I've noticed a pattern in my life: every time I say, "I never ..." I wind up doing the very thing I swore not to do. Case in point, our friends invited us on an impromptu camping trip, and we accepted. Aaaagghhh! (Another friend, after finding out where we went, asked me, "You went camping?" And then knowing that I don't own any sweats or anything of the sort, she added, "What did you wear?!")

Camping Wood Heights
The same day that we drove to the campsite, we also went swimming at a pool called Cottonwood Heights.















On our way to the mountains, Nicole sang a made up song that went something like this: "We're off to Camping Wood Heights! We're off to go camping!"

Sleeping Quarters
Nicole: "Mom, where are we going to sleep when we're camping?"
Mom: "We're going to sleep in the truck."
Nicole: "What?! Why aren't we going to sleep out in the woods?"

And thus it was that Nicole slept in the tent with our friends while we slept in the back of the Suburban. And I must say I think she slept better than all of us. Clint wrapped her tight in one of those mummy sleeping bags and then put a blanket over the top of her. She looked up at him and said, "Daddy, I can't move."

He told her to stay still in there like a hot dog and then she would be warm all night. And she did. She stayed in that same position until morning. Last night, when we tucked her in her own bed, she said, "Mom, I don't want to lay like a hot dog tonight."

Grant also slept his normal hours, even though when he woke up in the morning his fingers felt like ice cubes.

Pyromaniacs
The guys found entertainment in building a giant campfire with pine branches and lighter fluid. But when I tried to get the fire going in the morning, using paper, matches, more lighter fluid and soft burning embers, it took me 20 minutes. Good thing I wasn't born a mountain woman because all of the other barbarians would have laughed at me.

Boating
We took the kids out on a small boat around the lake. Since we were there in the middle of the week, we had the lake to ourselves. Nicole loved to "row" while the motor was pushing us along at a wakeless speed.

Grant hated his life vest because he couldn't reach his hands together in front to play with toys or reach them up to his mouth to eat a cracker. We tried changing to a different floating device, but it still had the same straight jacket effect. He eventually fell asleep, but not before we snapped these pictures.

The Outdoor Type
All in all, I think that my kids are better campers than I am. I worried about them getting bored, but they gathered sticks for the fire, climbed big rocks, looked for bugs and threw stones in the lake (sorry, Grandpa!).

We made smores, admired the stars (luckily there was no moon that night) and enjoyed the peaceful forest. So while I said I would not be going camping this year (due to the rattlesnake scare), I'm glad I did. Now I need to rethink those "never" statements and come up with something better like, "I will never go to Hawaii."

Busy Baby

Mothers of little boys
work from son up
'til son down.

Mama's Little Helper

That's the "I-know-I'm-being-naughty" look that I'm always referencing. Hard to get mad at that grin, isn't it?

Mini Vocabulary

Grant is able to satisfy all of his oratory needs with three words and a shriek.

1. Here: Employed as he surrenders forbidden objects, such as Nicole's markers.
2. Hot: Used to indicate that something is warmer than room temperature.
3. Dada: What can I say? This baby loves his dad! (He acts like Clint's shadow.)
4. "Shriek": takes care of everything else from "I want more food" to "Don't take me out of the bath" and "I can't reach my toy."

Now that Grant has the basics mastered, I see no reason for him to learn any more words.

Better the Second Time

Harry Potter 7 will debut in just over a month and the anticipation is eating away at my nerves. It was last summer when I read the first six books in a fury and couldn't believe I'd have to wait a whole year to learn the fate of young Harry.

I borrowed Book 6 just this week so that I could refresh my memory before reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and am surprised to find out how much I had forgotten. After all, I would have claimed to have remembered most of what I read. Indeed, I remember the main events and actions of the main characters, but this time, since I'm not in a such a rush to turn the pages to unfold the plot, I'm learning things that I had skimmed over before. And I think I'm discovering new clues, ones that are beginning to place doubt in my previously cemented ideas about the new book.

So, here's to Harry Potter reruns!

PS: Have you seen a photo of the boxset? It's the hardcover edition; I think the chest adds a nice element of authenticity.







PPS: The movie of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (book 5) is also coming out next month. So far, this one is my favorite of the series. I highly recommend it and hope the film can live up to the book.

From a Distance

In elementary school, my 4th grade music teacher made us listen to the Bette Midler song From a Distance at least 100x per day. Every time she brought out her tape player, I wanted to scream! Aaagghhhh! NOT AGAIN! Then one day, it got worse. She conned the school into buying the sheet music and she brought copies for all of us to learn the song. As bad as this seems, she has additional outstanding crimes of a far more serious nature; but that's another story.

Back to the issue at hand, a recent playground catastrophe has rekindled my love of nature ... from a distance. As many of you know, we live in the foothills, which package includes all sorts of wild insects, animals and snakes. More specifically, we live only a couple hundred yards away from many hiking trails. (For some, this is an asset; for me, this is a threat.)

Our backyard

Now I ask, do I love the mountains? Yes. Are they beautiful? Of course! Are they hosts to thousands of rattlesnakes? Absolutely! Last night, a HUGE (that is the exact word provided by several eye witnesses) rattlesnake slithered across the children's play area outside and into the bushes, where it was eventually captured by a team of policemen. Don't ask me why they captured it. Supposedly rattlesnakes are vital to our ecosystem. Yeah, whatever, I don't care. In my opinion, any snake gigantic in stature that places itself near children deserves a quick trip into another realm, not another bush.

All of this snake hullabaloo has prompted me to research the venomous reptile. Experts say your best bet is to watch your step (hard to do if you're only 16 months old) and if you spot one, give it space to retreat. Now tell me experts, would that be a run-for-your-life kind of space? Or would that be a play-dead kind of space? Or perchance a freeze-like-a-statue kind of space?

Until we figure it out, we're avoiding the parking lots and brushy areas at dawn and dusk because supposedly that's when they warm up on the pavement. We will also be abstaining from all summer hiking invitations and sleepovers in the wilderness (as if I didn't have someplace better to sleep anyway). Sidenote: one friend once said about camping, "I did not work this hard to go pretend I'm homeless."

Worse case scenario, I bet I could transport a victim to the hospital in less than three minutes on foot. That's provided I am not also bit -- and on the foot. They say if you're treated quickly, you're more likely to retain your limb, and in most cases, your life.
Be afraid. Be very, very, very, very, very, very ... do you get it yet? ... AFRAID!

Ride Them "Horses"!

Nicole has a stick horse (wooden pole for a body with a soft, stuffed head) named Heidi. She likes to ride her all over the house and frequently takes other family members to their domestic destinations on her, like an old-fashioned taxi.

Grant doesn't have a horse, but apparently he has an imagination. He has been spotted following sister and Heidi around riding this:

Love Notes

A year ago, Nicole dictated to me what she loved about each family member specifically. I put the special Post-It notes in my dresser and have seen them lying there every day since. This morning I took them out; here's what she said.

Dad: I love you so much because we play games and Nintendo.
Mom: I'm nice to you and I love you.
Grant: I love to get your covers off (when he wakes up). I love you.

She finished each note with "Love, Nicole."

EVIL, Like the Fru-its of the Devil

Two questions:
1. Why is this villain masquerading as the most innocent man to have graced public television?
2. Why is he wearing the same sweater 16 years apart?

I think this picture of Kevorkian is odd in nature. Here is a man, sitting next to his self-invented death machine, wearing apparel similar to Mr. Rogers, and donning the face of Satan's twin. When I looked at his eyes, it reminded of the statement Ted Bundy's psychiatrist said to Clint, "When you look at most people, even murderers, you see a soul; you feel their remorse. When I looked into Ted's eyes, I saw nothing but a black hole. This man had no conscience and sitting in his presence was eerie" (paraphrased).

As you may very well know, Dr. Death was released from prison today after behaving himself for eight years, earning an early out of his 10 to 25 year sentence. And while he is in desperate need of a new wardrobe, I think he could use a continuing medical education refresher course in ethics even more.

Kevorkian has promised to "not help anyone to die" for the next two years (his probationary period), but he is not expected to actually honor his word, since he has made similar statements before. Stranger than that is the fact that he is prohibited from providing care to anyone over the age of 62 or one who is disabled. What?! HE STILL HAS A MEDICAL LICENSE?!! Call me crazy, but I thought that doctors convicted of murder automatically forfeited their licenses -- forever.

I don't think Jack will be needing his sweater long-term. I hear it's hot down South.