Carrie Fisher-isms

Well, I just finished reading Carrie Fishers new book, "Wishful Drinking." I have to highly suggest this book, it's a fast read, and very entertaining. I read it today while the kids were at the dentist, and the other people in the waiting room must have thought I was crazy. I would go from chuckles to giggles to laughing so hard I was crying. Man, this woman is funny. Messed up, but funny. When she's talking about sending out delivery announcements after her daughter was born, she sent this out (Sarah and Elizabeth, you might want to take notes)

Someone's summered in my stomach,
Someone's fallen through my legs,
To make an infant omelet,
Simply scramble sperm and eggs.

Blond Moment?

Blond Moment or the beginning of Senioritis?
Our water softener usually takes a couple of bags of salt each month. Well, it had been a while since I had added salt. Summer 2008 to be exact. Just what we need right now, another bill. Not wanting to think about it, I put it out of my thoughts. You know the good old “bury my head in the sand” trick. We really cannot afford to get it fixed or replaced right now, so I have been putting it off. We just replaced our furnace, our water pipes froze, and now this? Maybe “someday” we’ll get a new one, ours is probably 15 years old, and due to be replaced.
When our pipes froze, Max had to do some work in the laundry room, and noticed a strange thing. Our water softener was not on the fritz, it was simply unplugged. Ignoring it really did work this time, no high costing service call. Now like magic it works again.
Not checking to see if an appliance is plugged in…duh. I’m on that road to nowhere land, the path of needing to take my Ginkgo (when I remember to take it that is) Can I still claim to be having a blond moment?

How Far Is 5.8K?

Mora had its annual Lanternloppett last night, and Max & I decided that it sounded like fun. Night cross-country skiing by lantern light, that could be fun and somewhat romantic. We don’t get out with out the kids often enough. We had a plan, after dinner, we loaded up my van with our cross-country skies, poles, and various cold weather gear. Off to Mora we went. I was nervous; I haven’t cross-country skied in years, 16 years to be exact.
The dark 5.8K trail was lit by lanterns; there were four cabins along the route, complete with food and bonfires. There were maybe 100 people out skiing, and the cabins were jam packed with people eating, drinking and laughing. We went past the first cabin, but stopped at the second. The cabin was filled with welcoming Swedes in turtlenecks and itchy wool sweaters. They offered us hot cider and food. There were so many different types of food available: crock-pots filled with food that smelled delicious, cheese, crackers, cookies, and firewater. Everyone was so nice; they said we could come back any time and use the trails. It was comforting to see so many friendly Scandnavians in one place.
As we headed back out onto the trails, I couldn't’t help but notice that we kept being passed up. I felt bad enough being passed up by a guy and his 10 year old son, but geeze, did I just get passed up by a couple of spry 70 year olds? Luckly no one shouted, "Eat my dust!" as they raced past.

Was I bending by knees enough, or too much? I told myself that maybe I’m just really out of practice, and not out of shape. After all, I'm the one who takes the dog out on daily 2 mile walks, and exercises on a regular bases. It did make be feel a whole lot better when I saw the cabin we started at, “Oh yeah, we’re done!” Was the mantra I kept repeating in my head. Wow, I really felt the last ½ of the trail. It was fun, and I will do it again, but I really need to get more practice in. How far is 5.8K anyway? I did have to look it up, it's 3.603953 miles, by the way.
We did the whole 5.8K, and I have the blisters to prove it.

They Grow Up So Fast...

They just grow up too fast. I picked up Tess from preschool yesterday, and she pointed out “her boy” to me. I guess this little boy helped her get her coat on (I can’t believe she fell for one of the oldest pick up tricks ever) and now, God help me, he’s her boy. She is four, she doesn’t need a boyfriend, but at least he’s her age. Unlike Tom, who loves the older ladies. Tom’s latest target– his gymnastics coach. She’s a cute and tiny woman in her late 30’s with kids of her own, so luckily she thinks his attention is cute. Tom made her a card, with his phone number in it, I might add. She called Tom “her little Sweetie” and he just beamed. Max’s comment summed it all up: “our boy has moved up to Cougars.”

Grandma Shared too Much Info

In honor of getting back in touch with Charissa, I have another family story to share.
My husband, Max, has a Grandma who is just too funny, especially when she doesn't mean to be funny.
Picture this setting: Easter dinner at Grandma's. Grandma is in her 90's and this tiny frail woman is still pretty sharp, and still surprises everyone with her comments. My hubby was looking at a picture of an old car with Grandma & Grandpa standing in front of the car. His Grandma walked up behind him, and made this comment, "Oh, that was the first time your Grandpa and I did it in a car." And then she walked away, leaving my poor hubby standing there with his mouth hanging open. The look on his face must have really been something, because his Dad came over to see what was wrong. All Max could say was, "Grandma just told me that this (motioning towards the picture) was the first time Grandma & Grandpa did it in a car." And then both Max and his Dad were speechless, and more then a little embarrassed.
Grandma shared just a little too much information that day. The family still laughs at that one, of course not in front of Grandma.

Just Kung Fu

I heard a really cute and embarrassing story this past weekend, and yes, I need to share it.
My Mother-In-Law, Sue, told me this one. It's about when my hubby, Max, was a youngster. He walked in on his parents one night. Understandably, he was confused about what he saw and asked, "What are you guys doing?" His Mom, without skipping a beat, said,"We're doing Kung Fu." That's not even the funniest part of the story. Some time later, he went with his Mom, Dad, and Grandma to a drive in theatre. When the couple on screen started to get frisky, Max turned to his Grandma and said, "Look, they're doing Kung Fu!"

Pull My Finger

As I’ve mentioned,my 4-year daughter is a tomboy.Her latest trick is the good old standard joke of–pull my finger. Where she heard that one, well, I've got no idea…Ok, I do have a good idea. I’m not the most delicate flower in the world myself. I do have the amazing ability to out burp most 12-year-old boys, and what a wondrous gift it is too. I like to think that just maybe that gift was what won over my husband, that and my sparkling personality.
I guess that is where my little girl gets her gassy gifts. It is incredibly funny, the look on peoples faces when the hear this sweet looking little girl, all dolled up in a cute dress, saying, “Here, pull my finger.” They look at me as if to say "I didn’t just hear what I think I heard, did I?" And then they hear the rumble that always follows.
I’ll just keep putting her in pretty pink dresses, and hope she finds a man, strong enough, and funny enough to think that her farts smell like roses.

Crust Free

Did I hear water trickling? Oh, what a beautiful sound. Max stuck his head into the bedroom at 7am and proudly announced, “Do you hear that sound? We have water again! I thawed the pipes with your hairdryer. I’m so relieved, I really need a shower. I’m so crusty; I was seriously looking at a snow bank to clean my backside.”
Well, that is desperate. I was planning on calling my Mother-In-Law who lives 30 miles away and asking if the whole family could come and bathe, and do a little laundry. I hadn’t even considered the snow bank option.
After 2 days with no running water, we are officially crust free, and proud of it!

Ah Shucks, Thanks Kid

Tess gave me a big hug today, and then reached over and poked me in the chest. Maybe I should explain that Tess is my 4-year-old daughter, and she has gotten very interested in breasts lately. She is learning that they come in all shapes and sizes. Her Auntie is pregnant with twins and Tess was just amazed at how huge preggers boobs can get. “Those sure are huge,” she said as she stared at her Auntie’s chest. Luckily, her Aunt is very cool and just laughed and said, “Yes they sure are.” Well, in the past, when Tess has asked about breasts, I have told her that some day, when she’s older she’ll get some too. “No thank you.” was her answer. Like I had just offered her gum or something. Tess also told me that she wants, “little boobs someday, like yours Mom.”
“Ah shucks, thanks kid.” Was all I could say, and then I turned and looked at Max. I thought he was going to swallow his tongue trying not to laugh when he heard that comment. Well, yeah little boobs. With my luck, she will get huge ones at 14, like her Aunties.

Frozen Pipes

What is about not being able to use the bathroom, that makes everyone have to use the bathroom? Our pipes froze last night, so we have no water. Because we can't flush, now we all have to go. You really don't truly appreciate indoor plumbing, until you don't have that luxury anymore. Life is cruel that way. I did manage to thaw them out, so it's all good now. Long hot showers, hand washing, and potty breaks all around!!

Determined or Just Stubborn?

When Leif was six, he wanted to learn to ice skate. Our visions of him as a future pro hockey player were complete with competing college scholarships to Ivy League schools. Max had played as a wee lad, and I wanted those tiny-bronzed ice skates. We started his lessons at the local ice rank. He was so excited about learning. I outfitted him in over sized snow pants– the idea being the extra padding would help shield his small butt from any hash falls. That poor boy spent more time on his butt, then on his skates. Every time he fell, I winced. He would fall, scoot over to the boards to get up and then fall again. He would fall and then get right back up and keep trying. It broke my heart to see him try so hard. I spent the 90 minutes of his lesson planning on how I could make all this up to him. Ice cream at DQ, or a toy at Wal-Mart? Anything to help my poor little boy to feel better, all that falling had to hurt his pride as well as his bum. When Leif finally got off the ice, I ran to help him get his ice-skates off and to tell him how brave he was and how proud I was of him for trying so hard. His first words were, “Wow, Mom, I’m really good at ice skating!” Did we see the same lesson? I was so proud of his determination. He still is that determined about everything he does, some times, we just call it being stubborn.

Snow Turds

I think everyone is a little OC about something. My obsessive-compulsive tic is kicking off snow turds. You know, snow turds are that ice and snowy build up behind your car tires, they get up into the wheel wells. I want, and need to kick them off–all the time. I have a hard time controlling myself in parking lots. Other cars snow turds call to me, “Come, and kick me loose. I bet you can get me to fall off in one big chunk.” I am powerless. I used to think that maybe it was just me that got such satisfaction from kicking them; but I am finding that I am not alone. There are others out there. It is so freeing to come out and say it, “I like to kick snow turds! “ There, I said it, I feel so much better. Maybe I will start a support group. What would we call ourselves? Turd kickers anonymous isn’t specific enough. There just might be people out there who like to kick dog turds. And who am I to judge?

Oscar's Story

My 10 year old Oscar has started writing, I'm so proud. Here is part of his latest, it's very good-and I'm not just saying this because he's my boy.

Infection
1998
A virus broke out. It has taken half the world. We will be next if we don’t fight. The virus is-Kraken Dieases. You start to change from the inside out. The victim grows tentacles out of their back as they start to change. The hands and fingers grow very long. The teeth also grow very long. Their legs turn into tentacles. They live on land and water. It is very hard to kill one.
How do I know? Well, let’s just say I have some experience. Who am I? I am Andrex, I fight with Steven. He is good at fighting.
One day Steven and I were scouting. Steven was bitten. I killed the Kraken.
“Oh no.” I can’t stop the bleeding. He is going to become one.

Stevens Power
“Will I ever see him?”
“I don’t know.” The Doctor said.
“What do you mean? You don’t know.”
“You don’t know. Fine.” I said, as I walked out the door. I remembered, I forgot Eli. I hope he isn’t dead. I have to get to his house.
I said, “Hi, Eli.”
“What are you doing here Andrex?”
“My friend is in the hospital. Can I come in?”

snowshoe by the moonlight

I love, love, love to go snowshoeing. We live on ten acres in the country, and I try to get out snowshoeing in the back yard as often as I can. I especially love going out alone at night, and last night was perfect. It was still and cold, the moon was full, and we got over a foot of fresh snow last week. It was absolutely the perfect night to go out.
We also have a lot of wild life around our place, and I love to follow the game trails. Last night, around 9 pm, I was out snowshoeing and following a deer trail. The full moon was guiding me as I rounded a turn in the trail and... I flushed a pheasant. I’m not proud, but I screamed like a little girl. I’m lucky that I didn’t pee my snow pants too. After getting startled like that, I went and got our dog Bertha and took her with me. If there were any more surprises in store, let the dog find them first. I like to keep my snow pants dry, thank you very much.
The rest of the night hike was un-eventful, and after another 20 minutes, both the dog and I were ready to go in and go to bed. I might just make it a rule to take her with me. I did see big cat tracks a couple of years ago, so company just might not be a bad idea. Besides, after having four kids, my bladder just cannot handle surprises like that.

Facebook Pressure

The pressure of Facebook is getting to me. I wanted to see a friend’s page, so I started the process of registration. Now I feel the pressure to actually complete the process. I keep getting e-mail invites saying, “_____ has added you as a friend” Well shoot, I do want to see how old and fat so and so got, but is it worth the time commitment? My curiosity might just get the best of me.
And by the way, I never did see Dave’s face book page.

My Super Heroes Family

My family is full of Super Heroes. In need of help? Dada, we are on the way.
I am Super Woman; fear my skills at changing a poopy diaper, while talking on the phone and making dinner!
Max is Sarcasm Man, always ready with a quick biting comment.
Leif is The Titanium Toe Nail; he needs jumbo toenail clippers for his fingernails.
Oscar is Shark Boy, with an extra row of bottom teeth (we had to get 6 of his bottom teeth pulled, I’m sure he gets that little freaky trait from his fathers side)
Tom is Danger Boy, ready to climb anything or jump over a sleeping dog.
Tess is Super Bladder, less said about that one, the better.
Even our pets are Super Heroes.
Bertha the dog has freaky strength, able to pull trucks and un-suspecting Grandmas with great ease. Bigfoot the kitten is just plain crazy. And Eve and Lilith the cats are just charging their super powers in the sunny window, waiting to be needed.

Bertha Bear

I'm reading "Marley and Me" for my book club, and feeling the need to talk about my dog-Bertha. Bertha is a shaggy black bundle of love and energy. She looks to be a Smooth Coated Retriever, but when we picked her up, we were told a Mastiff-Newfoundland-Lab mix. The dad was the biggest dog I've ever seen (and I've had BIG dogs before, 120 pound German Shepard, and a Great Dane) The father dog rested his bowling ball sized head on Max's shoulder-with all four of his feet still on the ground. Bertha ended up being what we call medium sized dog-65 pounds. She's all the dog I can handle. I do believe that she has Newfie in her because she is freaky strong. She has the kind of super strength that allows her to break logging chains, and pull the bumpers off of trucks. We really did have to use a towing strap as a tie down, because she broke Max's logging chain and then she pulled the bumper off the truck she was tied to. (If you know Max, you know that we have a "few" cars and trucks in our yard-all in need of "just a little work") Bertha can be mellow-after her daily 2 mile walk, she's a pussy-cat.
We had to have her kenneled this past weekend, because we were out of town. My mom stayed and watched the younger two kids, and I love my Mom enough not to want her to get dragged down the road by my dog. I do have to laugh at the thought of her taking the dog for a walk, or putting her outside. It'd be more like Bertha taking her for a drag across the icy drive way and down the road. I can just see our black dog dragging my Mom away, and her getting smaller in the distance.
"Where is your Mom? I thought she was here for the weekend?"
"Oh, she took Bertha out and must be to Mora by now."

The Time I met Jesus

I know, you thought I was weird before...I just keep getting weirder.

I still remember the time that I meet Jesus. I was an unhappy four year old with a new
baby brother at home. My mother has admitted that it was a tough time for me. I felt
unloved, ignored and forgotten. With all the work of having a colicky newborn to care
for, my mother just did not have any time or energy left for me. After a particularly rough
afternoon, I decided to run away from home. I felt unloved and very alone. I thought that
nobody cared or would even miss me anyway.
I was walking down the block away from home when I felt this warmth. It can only be
described as the way the spring sun feels on your face. The way the air is still cool, but
the sun feels so good, so warm on your face that you get goose bumps. I stopped and
turned to see what felt so good on the side of my face and saw this glow, and in the glow
was Jesus. He told me I was loved, and that things would always work out for me. I felt
so much better, so loved and so much safer. I decided to go back home and not to run
away. Things did get easier for me as my brother got older. However, I never forgot that
special meeting and how it changed my life.
Did I really meet Jesus? Who knows, but that four year old needed to believe. As an
adult, I really cherish that memory— the memory about the time I met Jesus.

Sweet Relief

I owe you an extra of story, I was out of town for a couple of days-not just lazy (OK, I am lazy, but I have a good excuse this time)

“Relief”

R-o-l-a-i-d-s may spell relief to millions but to me, relief was the sweet feeling of finishing delivering my son. I was so scared about my impending Delivery. It was on my mind a lot during last three months of my pregnancy. I had heard every horror story imaginable. I still don’t know why some people felt the need to terrify me with their stories of pain, day long labors and even death. I was already aware of what could go wrong, I had seen the same sad movies. The stories had left me feeling scared and unsure. I doubted that I could handle the pain that women wore like a badge of honor. The other experienced mom’s loved to go into every gory, horrible, painful detail about their deliveries. Was it really that bad? I could only imagine it was. Fear was an understatement, sheer terror was a better description.
The dreaded day arrived like any other, only wetter. My water broke, or maybe I had finally lost all bladder control. We arrived at the hospital, and then…nothing happened. And nothing happened for six more hours.
“We’ll have to induce you” was the phrase that I had heard was to be avoided at all cost. But by the time it was said to me, I was all for it. Any idea at all to get this thing rolling was fine by me. Four hours into my contractions, I lost all sense of composure. I wanted drugs, a lot of
drugs and I wanted them now.When my Doctor asked if a medical school class of “only” fifteen could watch my delivery I said, “Sure, bring them in, the more the merrier” By this time I was medicated and so out of it and would have been open to having my father-in-law and my first boyfriend there too. If I had been more able, I might have had a few choice things to say to the suggestion of fifteen twenty five year olds staring at my goodies . With all my moaning and grunting, my poor husband was perfectly useless. He had lost his mind and was completely freaked out.
While God, my husband, my doctor, and fifteen perfect strangers looked on I gave birth to my son. As they all marveled at the new life before us , all I could think of was, “I’m done, I did it!” Such sweet relief it was.

Winter Camping with the Cub Scouts

Well, I'm back from Ely, MN. The Boy Scout Troop and some Webelo Cub Scouts went up to the Boy Scout Northern Tier High Adventure Base north of Ely, MN for a new Webelo winter program. The Boy Scouts got to go winter camping, and the Cub Scouts had fun and staying on Base. It was great fun getting to see the younger boys learn about winter camping and they played outside all weekend. They all went home tired, but excited about Boy Scouts. I need a couple of days to digest all the details from the trip. I'll post more about the trip later. Here is a picture of Oscar making a ice fishing pole.

Polar Bear Plunge

Well, the deal is done, mission accomplished! The Polar Bear Plunge of 2009 was a success, and I have the pictures to prove it. I’m the one in the smart looking red mittens. (What, so I get cold hands)
The temperature was around 20, with some killer wind, and the water— freezing. I don’t think I’ve ever moved as fast as I did when I scrambled out of the hole in the ice. I didn’t know I could move that quickly.
Jump in, dunk, and climb out as fast as I could, easy breezy lemon squeezy. Before, we were all laughing and joking, trying to sound brave. Then the big jump in, and out we flew lickty split. I’m glad to be done, and proud to have done it.
The “kids” all had fun, and what a way to bring in the New Year.