Lost Art of the Compliment Part I

In this fascinating article MSN writer, Tom Chiarella flushes out the difference between a true compliment and a "salesman's trick."

This is something that interests and haunts me. The compliment. In 2001, I had had a rough year. Wendell had lost his job, then lost his next job and the next. He was selling cars, a desperate move designed to tide us over until he got a "real" job. Our relationship was a wreck. There was yelling and hurt feelings once I even threw something at him.

We were in marriage therapy and I was deeply depressed. That year, everything that could go wrong had. After I had Anson, Mom took me shopping and bought me a few clothes to fit my new bulgy figure. She talked me into buying a shirt that was black with large flowers on it. She gave me a "shell" to wear beneath in it and raved about how great I looked in it.

Every time I saw it, I thought of my grandma. Although I love my grandma dearly, I didn't want to copy style ideas from someone more that 50 years my senior. But Wendell loved the shirt, too. He raved about it and pretended that I was sexy when I wore it.

My weight climbed 13 lbs after Anson was born, so that by the time he turned one, I had ballooned to my all time highest weight.

My memory is a bit fuzzy on the details, but it was around then that I was invited to a baby shower of a woman I really cared about. And she had everything that I didn't. After several years of marriage and work, she was expecting her first baby, while I already had two. She had a beautiful roomy house with a view, money in the bank, and a tiny figure. Even pregnant, she was gorgeous.

I nervously stood on her front porch wearing my grandma style black shirt. I had a reused gift bag with a cheap outfit that had cost only $5 and I'd still had to use my credit card to get it. We were so far in the hole at that point, what difference did $5 make?

When my friend opened the door, she greeted me heartily, inviting me into her beautiful home. With the slightest look of disgust crossing her face so briefly that I was surely the only one who saw it, she looked me up and down and declared, "You look great!"

Should Be

There are things I should be doing. Like the dishes. Or picking up the living room from the remnants of yesterday's birthday party. I should be sorting through a mountain of papers that Wendell removed from the computer desk, which is now some sort of cleansed shrine to the brand spanking new iMac.

But I'm not. It's Halloween and Beck had had all the fun he could handle, so I'm at home to hand out candy to the handful of trick-or-treaters who are coming by, while Beck watches the umpteenth episode of "Dora Boots" after eating some "nacks" from his trick-or-treat bucket.

Really, I'm playing on the iMac and learning that I need to press the space bar much harder than I did on my PC, if I want to create somewhat intelligible sentences and not have itlooklikethis. I am also disappointed to discover that pressing the "end" button no longer takes my curser to the end of the line.

So, there are adjustments in honeymoon phase. But let me tell you, I'm in love. The mouse, oh my, the mouse is awesome. So sleek and sexy. And fast. It's hard to describe, but it's beautiful.

Beck says...

I love all the funny things that Beck (22 months) says. For example, "naken" is naked. And he counts like this, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, Nate, nine, ten."

Review: The Year of Magical Thinking

"Ooooo," my little sister said, "I've got a great book for you."

"Nothing sad," I insisted.

"Oh, well, um... not sad books..."

"OK," I said. "What's the book?"

"It's called The Year of Magical Thinking. It's all about this woman and how her husband dies, suddenly and how she gets through the first year after his death."

So I loaded up the kiddos and went to the library, where the computer system was down. "I'm looking for Autobiography of a Face and The Year of Magical Thinking. Where do I find them?"

The librarian shot me a look somewhere between what's-wrong-with-you and you-must-have-a-hard-life. "Both good books," she said. I nodded.

"Love Joan Didion, " she informed, "she's a really great writer. But the book is sad." I nodded again, since I'd already heard.

There are times in our lives when we go through Job-like trials, where it seems like the world is caving in around us and we can't possibly get more bad news, only to get more bad news. Summed up, this book is how Joan Didion survived, arguably, the worst year of her life. And her husband's sudden death is only the half of it.

Her frank reflections on grief, mourning and moving-on are refreshing. Although I found myself feeling sorry for her about things that only a devout Christian reader would. For example, she doesn't believe in resurrection or really in any kind of life after death. This torments her as she questions where her husband went and the overwhelming sadness of believing that she'll never see him again.

In today's world, a lack of belief in the hereafter is viewed and sophisticated, scientific, and intelligent. I found myself aching to sit down with her and explain about the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the fall and the Resurrection. But even with all of the knowledge and faith that I have, I am not sure that that negates grief.

I was left thus ruminating when I learned that a woman I visit taught and love, had just lost her husband and was now a widow. Having read this book, I felt that I had a sudden insight into her personal tragedy. Although she was a "cool customer" at the funeral, not shedding a single tear while looking intently in the face of every speaker and singer, I felt her loss and I worry about how she will move through the year.

Review: Autobiography of a Face

Autobiography of a Face is more than a memoir, it is a master piece. The story is Lucy Grealy's own, about cancer, family, bravery, survival and beauty. It begins with her diagnosis of Ewing sarcoma, which required the removal of half of her jaw, followed with two and half years of chemo and radiation.

Grealy gives an insiders view to the world of hospitals and sickness. She writes candidly and poetically about what it is to be brave, ugly, and alone. Despite the subject, or perhaps because of it, the book is movingly uplifting, while making you reassess definitions of beauty and struggle.

Twice a Year...

General Conference was fantastic, as usual. Elder Holland gave a power testimony of the divinity of Book of Mormon, Elder Bednar asked us to be consistent in family practices of Family Home Evening, scripture study and church attendance.

The three main overarching themes I heard this time were: 1) Listen to the Holy Ghost and you will receive the guidance that you need to help your family through difficult times. 2) Beware the ways and the logic of the world. The "natural man" is not able to discern spiritual things. Being vigilant in spiritual "basics" leads to spiritual strength and success. 3) If you or a loved one have wandered from the fold, come back. There is ample love and ample forgiveness to overcome any wrong doing.

A year ago, my sister's father-in-law passed away the day before General Conference. In that session I heard mostly of hope and being strengthened in trials. I recognize that what we hear is a lot because of who we are and what we need to work on.

So what did you hear this conference?

And the Wheels Turn Slowly

Some people are slow. They think slowly, they talk slowly, they move slowly. I am not one of those people. Some people are fast. They get everything done that they need to in a day and more and still have left over energy to make long phone calls while doing household chores and work out.

I am not one of those people either. But, while I admire and even envy "fast" people, I really despise the slow ones. Sometimes I want to shake people and say mean things like, "spit it out!" "Move over" and "decide already!"

So I am sitting in a bit of discomfort both with myself and others for moving too slowly.

First, after a long and obnoxious struggle, I finally have approval from the principal and the SCC and everybody and their monkey's uncle is on board and I can start my reading program. I have funding, I have sponsors, yet, I can't print my list because every single teacher at Cherry Hill must be coddled, stroked and visited with about the program before I can make photocopies.

The thing is, these teachers are smart and plugged in. I suspect they sit somewhere between I-don't-care and Sounds-great-hope-I-don't-have-to-do-anything-for-this. So all the talking is just slowing us down to slow us down.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I'm frustrated with myself. My weight loss has been stalled for a couple months now. I'm journaling, I'm tracking, I'm counting, I'm praying, I'm working out and I can't get the freakin' scale to budge.

Obviously, this is my fault. But why, WHY does weight loss have to be so, so hard?

What I need is way to speed things up. Make for speedy weight loss and speedy decision making. Come on! Let's just step on it.

Fill In the Blank

Annika (3) sitting at the table. "This says write your own word here."

As I peer over the counter, I see she is drawing "A's" and circles on the line of the title page of a cook book. Excellent. I always wondered what those dots were for...

Lend an Ear

I need someone to talk to. Not that I need therapy, or maybe I do--in so much as we all do--it's more that I just want to tell someone my thoughts. You know the I'm-frustrated-about-this or I'm-happy-about-that kinda stuff.


I want to vent to someone about the SCC at Cherry Hill. I want to tell someone about my conflicted thoughts about a neighbor's 19-year-old daughter who's pregnant. I want to explain why my house is always a wreck and what I've been doing today that the house is no better, but I'm still exhausted.


I just want to visit.


But my usual outlets have dried up. The people I usually talk to, vent to, chat with are all too busy or too annoyed to visit. I think it's time I arrange a play date with some girls...

Deep Thoughts for Today

1. When I make dinner, and my children don't like it, but I do like it, I glut myself on it. It's almost like a certain amount of food must be eaten in a given meal and if no one else eats it, then I'm obligated to.


2. At this time of year, when the kids come in from outside, they smell like rotten fruit. I'm cursing the Lee family and their Chinese restaurant and homemade plum sauce. I hate plums. It's time to chop the trees down.


3. Getting stuff translated into Spanish takes a long time and is going to put a serious kink into my carnival plans.

Not the Usual First Day...

Showered with hugs and kisses
I sent them out the door
like many other times,
but today was the first.

Do you have butterflies?
I asked Nathan.
Emma had already confessed
that she had them.

Like I'm nervous?
he answered.
Yeah, like you're nervous.
Nope, he replied, just happy.

But his school was the same.
Friends, lunch, recess
all the same.
Just a new teacher.

But for Emma and Anson
it was different.
All new. All hard.
New friends, new school, new recess...

So I paced
on the sidewalk outside the school.
The sun beat
and I worried.

Then, they were here
with hugs and happiness--
skipping, hopping, jumping.
It was the best first day ever!

Where the Shoe Go?

Beck has a thing for shoes. He likes to try them on, carry them around, find their own or hide them. The other day I caught him stuffing my sandal under his crib. Yesterday, Wendell took his shoes off, then started hunting for them.

"Where are my shoes?" he complained loudly. Eventually I joined in the search offering up pairs of shoes and suggestions as I learned that Wendell has more tennis shoes than I have with all of the different kinds of shoes put together.

So, I did what I always do when I can't find something, I just start cleaning. I grabbed some laundry (Wendell's) left carelessly in the bathroom and dropped it into the bin and stopped.

"Wendell," I called, "I found your shoes. They're in the laundry." Wendell fished out both of his tennis shoes, both of my sandals and Beck had headed down the hall with a box of note cards ready to throw that in the laundry, too.

Some day I'll tell you how fun it is to do laundry at my house...

Yo. Atom.

As Annika (3) and Nathan (7) were fighting over premium spots in the bathroom Nate yelled, "Get off the stool, molecule!"

Almost...

Apparently UVU can't hire me until they see if my class(es) will carry. That's very nerve wracking to say the least! But I've done every thing I can do and when they have the fall schedule up, I'll let you know!

My fingers are crossed.

Oh, and I'm still dreaming about it. In my last dream I took a nap in the afternoon, overslept, got there late, and wore the wrong clothes. In the end I had 15 minutes to give my presentation wearing jeans and a rumpled shirt (since I had napped). I was so uninteresting that everyone in the room left to get in line for a BBQ they were having just outside the lecture room. AHHHH!

Do you think I'm nervous?

Beddy-bye

I have a new goal to go to bed at 11:00 every night for the next week. It's 11:02 on my computer and I'm in my jammies with my contacts out.

I'll let you know how this goes.

Update 8/7/09: So each day has gotten slightly worse. At first I was in bed at 11:00, then 11:40, then 12:30. Heck, last night I think it was 1:00 again. I'm blaming Wendell for that one, we were playing this ridiculous game and he kept saying, "Just one more time around the board..."

What If I'm Discovered?

So I awoke this morning remembering very distinctly a dream where I had a nervous break down (or at least that was the general consensus) and I was admitting myself to the hospital.

Oh. And did I mention I was running around in my underwear? Not that I really want to put that picture in any body's head, but I think it's an important fact. For whatever reason I was carrying my clothes rather than wearing them.

So I posted a little ditty on my FB page asking, "This is normal, right?" I got some very serious replies to what I thought was just funny and it made me think. I mean, seriously, why did I have a dream about having a nervous breakdown and more importantly why wasn't I wearing clothes?

I think I'm worried about being found out. You know. Some one's gonna come up to me at one of these workshops I'm doing and call me out. They'll tell everyone that I'm a fraud and I shouldn't be allowed to do this presentation. Basically, I'm afraid of being found out, exposed if you will.

*Shudder*

Do you ever have dreams than might mean something?

It's a Beck

Beck is 20 months now and I must include some of the funny things he says. He's growing up so fast that already he's starting to correct himself.

One-y= sippy cup (just on our vacation last week, he started calling it a sippy)

Wast-off= blast off (we took a mom and me swimming class and he loved the song that ended with 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 BLAST OFF! He wanted to do it again and again so he'd count 1, 2, 3 Wasts-off!)

Beck can say his own name. When we look in the mirror I ask him, "Who's that?" He sheepishly replies, "It's a Beck."

Beck loves my dad. Every time we drive to my parents house he starts begging for "Gam-pa."

Beck loves "Go, Diego, Go!" He is even learning to say words in Spanish! He begs for it all the time saying, "Go, go, go!" And he carries little toys of Diego around the house calling him, "Day-go."

At night, when I put Beck in bed I say, "Night, night!" And he says, "Done, done."

Mother's Day

So I've been doing post vacation cleaning and I am working to unearth my bedside table. I found a Mother's Day card my children printed for me that I have to share. All spelling is original. :)

Happy mother's day MOM

MARELOUS

OPTIMISTIC

TEACHING

HELPFUL

EXCELLANT

RESPECTFUL


LOVE,

ANSON & EMMA & Nathan & Annika

Shameless Plug

OK, so some of you may want to see my class, "It's About Time." So I'm sticking a handy-dandy list on my side bar so that you can see if I'm teaching a class near you. If you want more details about the locations of any of the classes, just email me.

All Relief Society classes are free and I'll get you prices for UVU ones as soon as I have them.

Oh, and if you'd like me to teach in your area let me know. I'm looking to teach another class in Sept and Oct.

And the Only Thing I Lost Was My Mind

So we took the kids camping. It was the first time since 2001 that we've taken them and the last time we slept in a tent (thanks, Tamma) was 1998. (If you did the math on this, the last time Wendell and I went camping, Emma was 2.5 and Anson was 11 months. The last time we slept in a tent, we were newlyweds with no kids.)

You see, I'm a pretty wimpy camper. But I must confess there are a few draws about camping.

1. Seeing the sunrise. Thanks to Beck getting up and simultaneously refusing to go back to sleep, at 5:00 AM, I saw a sunrise for the first time since I attended girls camp.

2. If you camp with other people, you don't have to fix or buy food for all meals.

3. Long walks, visits, playing games, afternoon naps are all part of the fun.


If you want to camp often, you need the correct tools, which I do not have. So here are things you need to own or rent to go camping.

1. RV or trailer. When we camped in 2001 we were able to sleep in a trailer. This is preferable to sleeping in a tent.

2. A large light to use in your tent see by.

The final piece of advice is that you need your children to be old enough to stay in their own sleeping bags and not freak out when they wake up in the night. (Beck also woke up at 1:45 AM and after screaming inconsolably for 15-20 minutes, Wendell took him for a car ride to calm him down.)

Wal-Mart Parking Lot

Dear Girl in the White Civic,

You nearly ran my two oldest children over as we crossed the street outside of Wal-Mart. Yep, that was me yelling, "Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!!" You shouldn't be driving around any parking lot at 20 miles an hour, but barrelling through Wal-Mart's at noon with a parking lot full of mom's with small kids is unconscionable. I am relieved that you turned the corner before you hit my kids, but really, is a parking spot worth it?

The most important fact out of all of this--is my eye is on you. (696 LHJ)

Rip Your Lips Off

Today I learned, to my horror, that it is possible to wax the skin off of your lips.

Boys Lack of...

Overheard at my house...

Emma: Boys! They just don't know anything about drama!

Where's My Camera?

I wonder if whoever stole my camera took any incriminating photos?

Diaper Duty

After 5 kids, I have to admit that I haven't checked prices on diapers in a while. So after a couponing seminar (at Enrichment Meeting), I wondered how diaper prices compared.

This is what I found.

I haven't had success with "store brands" except White Cloud, which I loved, but seems to have been discontinued at Wal-Mart. So I compared Luvs, Huggies and Pampers at Target, Walmart, Albertson's, and Toys 'R' Us. I also checked on Huggies at Costco.

The cardboard boxes of Luvs at Target or Walmart won. However, if you ever go to get diapers and they're out of the big boxes, it's cheaper to get the large boxes of Huggies or Pampers than it is to get a "jumbo" size Luvs. (Plus, they almost always have coupons in the paper for Pampers and Huggies.)

If Huggies or Pampers are on sale at Walmart or Target and with coupons you can save $3 or more per box, then that's tied/cheaper than Luvs. At Albertson's the sale would need to save you $4 or more to compete. Toys R Us is so overpriced that even with their best possible sale AND coupons, it's still not as cheap as Luvs just regularly at Target or Walmart.

However, if you need S/M size Goodnights, Toys R Us is competitive and sales on the those (especially if combined with coupons) would save serious money.

Huggies at Costco is more expensive than the big boxes of Luvs at Wal-Mart or Target. However, when Costco does their coupons on Huggies, then it's cheaper.

Now you know.

Annika Banannika

Without further ado here are Annika's 3 year pictures.

It's the Best Product Ever

So at the Rec this morning I realized that that news I'd been seeing about another celebrity biting the dust was that really annoying, loud infomercial guy.

He is so mesmerizing. The way he shows you things about the product and yells in monotone. You just have to buy the product...and HURRY.

I especially want to thank Billy Mays for OxiClean. It's in store now, you know. And it's seriously good stuff. I mean Emma might spill ketchup on her clothes at school and when she gets home, it's already been dried on for hours. Then it goes into the dirty laundry where it may sit for several days before it ever makes it in the washing machine.

But just throw in a scoop of OxiClean in with the regular soap and WHAM, POW, SHA-ZAM it's like new. Not just clean--like new. It's way better than Biz. I throw in a scoop of Oxy Clean with virtually every load. It's awesome.

So I'd like to give a shout out to Billy. Thanks for OxiClean.

The Baby Has a Name...and a Description

Instructions: Don't tell me if you don't like it or it doesn't make sense, 'cuz it's a done deal.

Wendell and I had a brainstorming session last night and this is the name and description we came up with for my class.

It's About Time!

It's time to make time for your life. Learn how to take control of your schedule and get you back on your to-do list.

Well, what do you think? Remember, positive comments only. :)

Comments From a 3-Year-Old

M: (turning on the TV) Word Girl is on. Do you want to watch it?

Annika: No. It has (mumble, mumble while eating an otter pop)...

M: It has what?

A: It has bad attitudes. I want Wonder Pets.

All About Beck

Beck is 18 months old and I have been completely negligent about posting about him. You may avert your eyes if you hate those blog posts where people go on and on about their kids, 'cause this is that kind of post.





1. Beck climb out of his crib twice a few days ago, but thankfully hasn't thought of doing it again.


2. Beck still says, "What's that?" 50+ times a day.


3. Beck knows a ton of animal sounds including, but not limited to: cow, horse, cat, dog, pig, monkey, elephant, lion, and sheep.


4. Beck can identify the following body parts: head, nose, eyes, ears, tummy, bum, toes and tongue. The tongue is awesome. He sticks it in and out saying, "Liddle, liddle, liddle."


5. Beck has a problem eating inanimate objects such as erasers, crayons and small beads.


6. When above problem gives Beck diarrhea he cries, "It's a bum!" during diaper changes.


7. Beck thinks biting is a good way to get what he wants. We are working hard to stop this behavior.


8. Beck only has 8 teeth. The top front four, the bottom front two and two top one-year molars. Weird, huh?



9. Beck can say the name of every family member. When I'm calling the kids up stairs, he's my echo.


10. Beck's favorite people to call are Emma and "Aah-ka." (Annika)


11. Beck's favorite people to play with are me, Annika and Nate.


12. If Beck wakes up crying in the night, Wendell is the only person who can get him back to sleep. If I get him, he just cries harder until I put him in our bed. Apparently, I'm a sucker.


13. Beck is a scrawny little fellow. He weighs about 23 lbs and usually wears 12 month clothes. Even then, he often has to wear a belt so his pants don't fall off.




14. When Beck runs, he swings his right arm.


15. Beck loves to use, what I can only call, his falsetto. He loves to squeak way up high. This is good for mimicking the older kids and for creating a cat sound.


16. Beck loves to play the piano. Especially when it's someone's practice time. :)





17. Beck loves his Grandpa H. He will get all psyched if he knows we're going to see Grandpa and will push to get out of my arms and run to Grandpa.


18. Beck named his blanket "Bob." Every morning he throws Bob out of his bed, so I have to pick up Bob, then pick up Beck. Beck will also call for Bob when he's sad.


19. He calls his sippy--"One-y."


20. He loves Go Diego Go, which he calls, "Go, Go, Go!"


21. He can count to three. I wonder where he got that?

Like Me

I'm a likable person. So it's odd when someone doesn't like me. I actually work hard (these are called people pleasers) to get people who don't like me, to like me. And sometimes I'm wrong, you know. I get a "vibe" that someone doesn't like me, but maybe I got the vibe wrong and they actually do like me.

There are two people like that in my ward. One, is a friend of my mother's and my sister's, so it was weird when the vibe I got from her was rather cool. Over the last seven years of living here, I think I got her all wrong and perhaps she does like me. (Although they recently had a son get married and we never got an invite, but I'm functioning on the assumption that it was an accidental oversight.)

The other woman has constantly been in a position of authority in my ward and I think the reason she doesn't like me is that I have so many little kids. She's an ambitious career woman and I think her perception of me, is that I'm not. Unlike the first woman, I've never gotten a cold shoulder, but her friendliness has often seemed a bit forced. Like she's acting like she likes me, when deep down she doesn't.

This is the person that I had to pitch my class to for a midweek activity. Imagine my trepidation. But buoyed with the news that the local university wanted my class for their community education series, I called. She loved the idea! I will be teaching part of my class to my ward, in August, in conjunction with a cupcake exchange.

I could just hug her! And you. Thank you for all of the encouragement telling me, reminding me, that I can do this.

Update 6/29/09: Wendell has been bringing in the mail and never noticed the invite to the reception. We got one! I was too embarrassed to ask someone where the reception was, since I thought we weren't invited, even accidentally. But I got it, albeit four days late. We were, in fact, invited.

The lesson is all of this is don't make judgements. Even if you think someone doesn't like you, odds are you're wrong.

I Dreamed a Dream

After more than a week of email and phone tag, the woman at UVU in charge of Community Education and I connected. And....(drum roll, please)...they want the class!!!!

They want the class! I'm back from doing a happy dance all over my living room. This fall I will be teaching a class about time management and priorities. I'm so thrilled. This fall I will be a paid motivational speaker.

Now, the pay is paltry mind you, but this is a step. Really, it's not about the money for me (although I was hoping to make more than $18), it's more about the practice. And frankly, the fun of public speaking. I love doing it. It makes me so happy.

Whether you like it or not, I'll keep you posted on what happens next.

How Exactly Do I Do That?

When I was BYU Women's Conference, low these many weeks ago, I ran into a woman who, I learned, was an EFY/Education Week Circuit Speaker. We exchanged emails. So, after I hadn't heard anything back from UVU, I emailed her, asking for advice.

My basic question was, how do I become a motivational speaker? Her answer was to start with Enrichment meeting. Offer to do a special class. Then let other people know that you'd be willing to do this at other Enrichment meetings.

It's not like the thought hasn't crossed my mind, but how exactly do you say, "Boy do I have the Enrichment meeting for you--ME!" It's seems so...conceited.

In truth, her advice appeals to me because it would be so helpful to have some presentations under my belt before getting paid to do it, that is assuming UVU picks the class up.

Let's say that I am brave enough to offer to do Enrichment meetings (or a mid week activity), how do you go about finding the contact info?

I've done a fair amount of cold-calling in my day, but I've never cold-called Enrichment Counselors...

Can We Show Some Excitement?

It happened. UVU has returned contact with interest in my class for the fall semester. They were extremely non-committal, but they replied.

I'm so excited that I'm beside myself. It's seems possible that as soon as September, I may get paid for doing something that I love and all on my schedule.

My only disappointment is that, well, no one else is that excited. It's kinda like when you're announcing you're pregnant with your fifth baby. You can count the people who are actually happy for you on one hand. And big reactions are even harder to come by.

I need a friend grab me by the arms and swing round and round with delight. We'd giggle and fall on the couch. Then she'd say, "Can you believe your dreams are coming true?"

And I'd say that yes I can believe since I've been working hard on them for a while now and on the other hand, no I can't believe and she'd nod and say, "You can do it. You're going to be great at this." And I will hope against hope that she's right.

You Could Call Him Rex

So I went for a walk yesterday morning alone and came home with company. This dog, with tiger-like brown and black stripes fell in step with me and walked right next to me, as if I'd asked him to heel, for blocks and blocks.

When I came home, I just walked into my back yard and gave the boy a drink. The dog I'd brought home: a pitbull.
We kept him over night and I called a friend who used to be connected to a dog rescue group. My poor dog cried and cried. So at the advice of about 5 vets offices, I called the pound the next day. A safety officer showed up at my house, just as I needed to leave and I left him there on my back porch with one of those long poles with the loops. When I came home he and "Rex" were gone.

But it's left us thinking about a dog...

Lives of the Rich and Famous

For Christmas, Wendell's parents gave us a $100 gift certificate to the Park City Hotel. As our 12th anniversary approached, I thought that would make the perfect occasion for using our gift. I freaked out a little when I looked on line and found the cheapest prices at the hotel were $250 a night. Going golfing would tack another $110 on the trip. Obviously, we skipped the golf.

Still, I booked the trip and we had an amazing time. But living like the rich and famous taught us a few things that we otherwise would not know.

1. The word "hotel" is very loose. In this case it meant, "resort."

2. When staying at a resort, take cash with you. Otherwise you'll be forced to stiff the bellman.

3. If you aren't prompt with a tip for the bellman, he will stay in your suite for a ridiculous amount of time, explaining and explaining things.

4. Do not believe all websites. We found a website for a restaurant that looked wonderful, but was lame and Chuck-a-rama-esque. We backed out slowly and drove around to find something better.

5. Really fancy cars, whose names I don't know, are good indicators of nice restaurants. (Our restaurant, Easy Street, deserves it's own post.)

6. Always bring your swimming suit, even if you think you don't need it. We found ourselves with a hot tub on an outdoor deck overlooking a golf course, but we had no suits.

7. Wal-Mart in tourist towns is even scarier than in regular towns. But you can find plus size swimming suits there for $9.

8. There is no such thing as complimentary food at a resort. You want breakfast? That starts at $9. Unless you get room service which starts at $6, but you have to figure 20% gratuity, and $3 delivery charge.

9. In a tourist town, there are very few places that serve breakfast after 11:00am. Those places are not called Village Inn, Ihop or Denny's.

10. Rich people like fire places. In our suite we had a fire place in our bedroom, our living room and our deck with the hot tub.

11. Hot tubbing late at night by fire light is fun, even if you're wearing a $9 Wal-Mart swimming suit.

12. Living like the rich and famous is fun and I'd do it again in a second!

I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly thank Mom and Dad for the gift certificate to an amazing resort in Park City. You are welcome to give us this gift every year--it won't get old.

PS Thanks to Wendell for a great time in Park City. So far our 12th Anniversary was my favorite! Here's to the next 12, and the 12 after that, and the 12 after that, and the 12 after that...

Minor Miracle

I'm in need of a minor miracle. I discovered today that Beck has swiped my memory card from my camera. 9 months worth of pictures, that aren't down loaded, are on that card. Everything from birthdays, Anson's baptism, Christmas, start of school pictures, end of school pictures with the kids teachers--all of it gone.

Wendell and I have gone through our entire recycle bin and 3 garbage sacks from different points in the week. That was so rank, I thought Wendell was going to hurl. We've looked under the fridge, the stove, the computer desk where the card had been plugged into my card reader. We've even looked down most of the heat vents.

As silly as it sounds, I'm praying to find it. It's one of those tiny memory cards. Please send any thoughts and prayers my way.

Update: Less than an hour after I posted this, I found the media card in the garbage in our family room. I'm still shaking my head. Ya know what? I think God knows who I am and He cares about what's important to me. I'm so grateful for the divine help in locating this memory card.

As further proof, here are the last 3 pics I took from the last day of school.

Nate with his 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Ward. She's moving to Texas and will be a stay at home mom.

This is Anson with his teacher, Miss Munson, soon to be Mrs. Wilson. We got invited to her reception so we'll see her again in just a couple of weeks.

This is all 3 of my kids with Mr. Davies, our principal. After 5 years at my kids' school he's transferring to another school. We will miss him!

I'm Just Your "Friend"

What I've learned on Facebook so far...

1. I'm probably not your friend, I'm just your "friend."
2. The person with the most friends spends the most time on Facebook.
3. People who were not popular in high school can be very popular on Facebook.
4. You have to work hard to avoid weird conversations. Apparently it's not cool to say, "How do I know you?"
5. Nobody cares about your stupid poll.
6. Begin all "share" posts with verbs. For example, type-- got jury duty. Hooray! This will turn out: Jenna got jury duty. Hooray!

I've Broken Down and Joined

It's true. I'm on FaceBook now. I wanted to find out when my high school class reunion was and apparently you can only find out if you are on facebook. So I joined and I'm proud to say that I already have 41 friends including at least 2 people who "friended" me and I have absolutely no idea who they are.

And You Goofed Up Again

Dear Billing Girl at Dr. Ogden's Office,

I am not paying for the $97 office visit that you billed incorrectly. As I told in you Feb, I get one free preventative care visit per year. If you billed the insurance correctly, like the eye doctor, gynecologist, and pediatrician's offices are all able to do, then the insurance would pay 100% of the approved amount. It is not my fault that you are incompetent.

I will pay for the lab fees despite the fact that I requested that you use LabCorp, my preferred provider. My labs would have cost a fraction of what I will be paying, if I have stuck to my guns on that. But I was the one that said you could do it in office, so I'll pay for those.

That being said, it is not very nice to bill me in Feb, have me contest the bill and never rebill the insurance or me, then send a notice in late May saying that my bill is dangerously overdue. As I told you in your office several months ago, I will be waiting for a new bill to come after you rebill the insurance company.

It is beyond rude to threaten me with collections when you are the one who hasn't fulfilled your side of the bargain. It is also not my fault that someone at your office got excited with the "9" button and stuck two of them in my address where only one exists. This only goes to further prove your incompetence.

If you can not get this figured out, then obviously, I'll never return as a patient. Billing practices of a doctor's office are an important part of the doctor patient relationship.

PS I will need a statement in writing that says you won't send me to collections while you await the insurance company's payment.

Protective or Overprotective

Wendell's day off is Thursday, not Saturday like most families. Wendell is home in the morning but rarely for dinner. So I find myself, particularly as the summer approaches, protective of these times.

During last school year, Anson missed a day of scouts because we were doing a family activity on a Thursday. Only when I thought to call his scout leaders (the day of the activity) and let them know he wouldn't be there, did I find out he was currently the only boy in the den. I confessed that Thursday's were not that great for me and they promptly moved scouts to Tuesday.

So as summer approached I got a call from Anson's scout leader. Could we move scouts back to Thursday only in the morning for the summer? Sure. That would be the same time as Emma's achievement days.

But the more I thought about it, the worse it got. Achievement days are only every other week, so on the off weeks we could (if scouts weren't on Thursdays) go do family activities. Otherwise we have to wait until 11:00 when scouts is over--a terrible time of day for Beck.

I've hemmed and hawed and finally called the scout leader, who was understandably frustrated. She'd already set up everything for the summer and now I was throwing a monkey wrench into it.

What galls me is why I didn't say, Nope. Thursday's won't work this summer. How about Mondays or Wednesdays? Instead I stood by, all pansy like, trying to make something impossible work.

If they were setting up scouts on Saturdays at 10 everyone would have apoplexy. (Except me for whom it would be perfect.)

So what I'm wondering is, am I too protective of Thursdays?

Update: Anson's scout leader called back and said Mondays at 10 would be fine! Hooray! I also fell all over myself apologizing for not being forth coming in the first place and very appreciative that she was willing to reschedule just for me.

And 10 Days Later...

Ten days ago was my birthday. I'm now 33. I'd love to wax poetic or wise, but that response does not come from turning 33. Getting older is weird. In January, when I was still 32, I went to my gynecologist for my annual.

The little secretary girl said, "How old are you?"

And I actually said, "Twent.... 32."

I'm supposing I was going to say 26. Not that it was that fabulous of a year, but it's the age at which I haven't felt markedly older.

I'm young enough to get away with going to bed at 12:30 and getting up at 7:00 on a regular basis. I'm old enough that I've only lost 18 lbs since I had my last baby and he's almost 18 months old. I'm just trying to stay focused on the fact that I'm moving in the right direction, albeit slowly.

When I turned 30 I realized that I had achieved all the goals that I had set out for myself in childhood: graduate from high school, get a bachelor's degree, get married, buy a house, have kids. Some of these "achievements" are just dumb luck. It's not everyday that a girl like me convinces a guy like Wendell to marry them. And not everybody can have their hubby throw loving glances from across the room and get pregnant. On those, I just got lucky.

But I also realized that I needed new goals for the next 10 years. Here is a sampling.

*Be PTA pres and participate in the PTA at all my kid's schools.
*Get healthy--find fun ways to exercise.
*Improve my spiritual life.
*Get out of debt and find fun ways to bring in extra money.
*Early to bed, early to rise.
*Nourish my relationship with Wendell
*Get the house organized!

I think it's a decent 10 year plan. In fact get out of debt can be checked off. Or at least way checked down. But there's more to me than this. You know what I'd really like to do? I'd love to be a motivational speaker.

I know it's not the first time I've said so on the blog, but I'd really, really love it. And you know what? Even though I don't know where to start, I think being in my thirties is making me more creative. I've sent an email to our local community education pitching an idea. I'm working on an outline for said class even though I haven't got an agreement yet. I've also been trying to contact an EFY and Education Week speaker, who I met (of all places) in the line for the bathroom at BYU Women's Conference for advice.

Did you see all those words: pitching, working, trying. And no one has said yes--yet. But I'm far from discouraged. I'm enthused. I feel awake and powerful when I work on becoming what I want. And it's a good goal for the next 10 years.

I can't wait to see what another year will bring, what I'll learn, how I'll grow and what goals I'll achieve.

Birthday, Baby

Sunday May 10 was a day that I'd been looking forward to for 10 years. It was Mother's Day and Emma's birthday--the first time in her life that the two days have coincided.

Emma was born on a Monday, a fact I was bitter about at the time. Her due date was Sunday May 2nd. When she looked big on the ultrasound, foolish first time Mom that I was, I started telling everyone that she was due April 28th although no one at the doctor's office officially changed her date.

When I got Emma's due date, I said to myself, well for sure she'll be born by Mother's Day. So on May 9th as I stood in Sacrament Meeting to get my flower, I was 7 days over due and everything was swollen. My eyes veritably disappeared in my puffy face, my puffy feet were crammed into some type of ugly slip-on sandal and the rest of my puffy-self was encased in a billowing, tent-like maternity dress.

It was with abject despair that I accepted my Mother's Day gifts and subjected myself to my first and most hideous Mother's Day photo-op. At 2-ish o'clock in the morning my water broke. It was officially Monday May 10th.

Although Emma wasn't born until 8:57 pm that night (long story), I knew that eventually her birthday would land on Mother's Day. I was home from the hospital before I had a calendar and enough brain cells to figure out when it would happen. It would take 10 years. When Emma turned 10 on the 10th, it would be Mother's Day.

The morning began with Emma climbing into my bed and we waited in eager anticipation of our first joint breakfast in bed. Emma picked the menu: scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and juice and I provided the bed big enough for both of us.

Wendell and the big boys (with the babies trailing) sang a convoluted version of Happy Birthday/Happy Mother's Day-to-you. At church Emma and I both got to stand at the front of Primary while they sang acapella (since I'm the pianist) a Primary birthday song. (My birthday was on the Saturday following Emma's so it was the first time that our birthdays landed in the same chronological week.)

After church we had a big Mother's Day/birthday dinner at my mom's house with gifts and cards galore. Truly, it was one of the happiest days of my life. I hope it was for Emma, too. And I look forward to many more years of sharing Mother's Day with the first person who gave me reason to celebrate it.

Cloud 9

Today I met with the principal from my kids' future school. It's official. We're going. I went to talk about the upper grade reading program that I (with a small committee) started in 2007 at my kids' current school. First though, I had to get the math out of the way.

I never have gotten a personal response back from Emma's future teacher, Mrs. M. So I was nervous. But Mrs. Hart, the principal, put me right at ease.

"Mrs. M actually spoke with me, and she was very happy about meeting with you. She said that if your daughter needed that additional practice that she would be happy to supply you with the text and materials so she can get what she needs."

Yee-haw! I was so happy to hear that. My final fear has been put to rest. (As a side note, I interviewed the 5th grade ALL teacher from Foothill -- the other ALL school in my city, and she said that she taught using the Investigations or Connected Math lessons, but had homework almost exclusively from the Scott Foresman text which has more practice. This is exactly what Emma will be getting, just at the other elementary.)

I went on to explain how we started the reading program at my kids' current school, how we've improved it and the kind of response we've had. Mrs. Hart was almost out of her seat with excitement! I told her what I'd need to fund it and that I'm already recruiting volunteers to run it. My program also runs on a minimum of volunteers. You just need 2 people for 20 minutes once a month. That's it.

It was so nice to have someone as excited as she was about the program. She was so supportive. And thrilled.

"I was trying to come up with something like this," Mrs. Hart told me, "only it wasn't done and it wasn't this good."

"Why reinvent the wheel?" I asked.

"I definitely borrowed great ideas from others when I was a teacher, now I do it as a principal."

As I was leaving she said, "I'm so excited for the program...and, I'm so excited to have you at the school, too."

It was so gratifying to hear. I have to admit, I like being appreciated.

Saturday Chores

I'm standing in front of the toaster with my hands pressed on the counter watching the bread as it browns. I'm pretending that I don't have the entire kitchen sink so full of dishes that it's spilling out.

It's 10:20 am and I'm still wearing my exercise clothes, no make-up and a hat. I need to weed. I justified my tacky outfit at Visiting Teaching interviews this morning by telling everyone I was going home to weed.

Yet I kicked my shoes off and now sit in front of my computer screen confessing...my laziness. It's not really the work I'm avoiding, although that's part of it. It's being the task master that I'm avoiding.

Come on kids, I'll say perkily and clap my hands. They'll groan and moan and grumble and say it's the only thing we ever do. If that we the case we wouldn't have so much to do.

Then I'll get ornery and get after them. Come on, you guys! How many times to I have to ask? More moaning. Louder groaning. Mom you're so mean. This isn't fair. How come he/she doesn't have to do (fill in the blank)?

There are days that I'm just not up to it. Today is one of those other days. I'm up to the challenge...I just need a few minutes to regroup and prepare for battle.

Even though I was full, I ate my toast. I've posted my blog. It's on to work we go.

To Go or Not to Go

I met with Mrs. M. the 5th grade ALL teacher at Cherry Hill. In fact, I got to the school early and so I met briefly with Mrs. S. the 3rd grade ALL teacher for next year. I really like her and I feel great about Anson going into the program. After the bell rang, I crossed the hall into Mrs. M's classroom.

We had a wonderful chat that ended on a high note as I showed her my upper grade reading program. She loved it! She was so impressed with it and she wanted to keep the info I had brought to show her. I have meeting next Thursday with the principal to see if she likes it and is willing to fund it.

I was disappointed to learn that she teaches 100% Investigations (the 6/7 grade version is called "Connected Math"). In fact, it's not so much the teaching as it is the lack of reinforcement in the homework. She showed me that they do have a text book with some drills, but that she rarely uses it.

Let me explain what this means. She showed me a worksheet with 3 problems on it. Each problem was about a different subject. The first problem went like this:

59 divided by 5
a. What is 5 X 10?
b. What is 5 X 11?
c. What is 5 X 12?
d.If you have 59 students who all need a pen and the pens come in boxes of 5 how many boxes do you need?

I love that this problem shows what strategies you need to learn to divide. I love that it has a real life problem address the "what do you do with remainders?" issues. But I hate that it never actually asks you for the answer to the problem. And I also hate it is the only problem of it's kind.

Now if there were a whole sheet of division with this, I'd be a happy camper. It is my belief that students fundamentally need practice to learn new math skills.

Here is the email I sent the teacher. (Tip: Keep in mind that when you speak based on your child, no one can argue with you. As a parent, only you will know what's best for your child.)

Thank you so much for meeting with me yesterday. I have an appointment to meet with Alisa Hart next Thursday and talk about setting up the upper grade reading club. I'm really hoping that we can do it and I was flattered by how much you like the program.

I have to admit that as I've reflected on our conversation I'm still just a bit concerned that there aren't enough practice sheets in math for Emma. When you explain something to her, so often she appears to understand it, but when she practices repetitively it is easier to determine whether or not she gets it. (If she's missing one or two--she gets it; 6-7 missed and there's a fundamental misunderstanding.) For her, repetition really solidifies the principle and helps math become second nature.

I'm actually really excited about the way you teach math. And I'm excited for Emma to learn to think mathematically and explain the whys and hows behind the numbers. But for her, it's also a matter of practice. Would you be willing to send her home with a worksheet that reinforces the topic each day? Or perhaps you could send home a note (or email!) with the corresponding unit in the Scott Foresman textbook? I would even be willing to come to the school once a week and help you with photocopying and/or grading if you'd like the reinforcement worksheets for your whole class.

I really want the ALL program to work well for Emma and I'd like to help you in any way I can.

If I can pull this off, I will have fundamentally changed the way math is done in the ALL program at this school. That difference is THE difference maker in doing or not doing this program.

I have one more week to decide. I'm leaning toward going, but don't talk to me tomorrow because I might be against it by then.

Promo

On Friday we got great news! Wendell got a promotion at work. He's now the Used Car Manager at the Ken Garff Honda of Orem store.

It was a little funny the way he got the news. His boss texted him and told him to come to sales meeting Friday morning. Without ever having a private conversation with Wendell, extending him the position, Wendell's boss just announced at the meeting that Wendell would be the new Used Car Manager. This delighted and surprised him as much as anyone.

He starts today. He'll get a new schedule today and that will be a little tricky to work around, but in this economy I can feel nothing but grateful that Wendell's still moving up in his company.

Blog Rant and a Book Review

I do have more interesting things to say than my blow by blow drama of "do I or do I not put the kids in the new school/program."

But I have problems. I mean, I'd love to tell you all the nitty gritty details but someone who reads my blog might know someone else and word my get back that I'm ticked. See. So I have trouble writing freely about the things I would like to rant about most.

Instead, I will do a book review on Rich Dad, Poor Dad.

Imagine that a CPA and an investor get together and write a book. It would suck. It would be redundant. It would almost bore you to tears and it might still be great financial advice.

Honestly, one of the worst books I've read in a long time. It is so poorly written that I can't believe it was ever a New York Time's Best Seller. Personally, I have a much higher expectations for non-fiction books.

If you can suffer through it (I don't suggest it), you will learn to think of a few things differently. For example, is your house an asset or a liability? Asset, right? Wrong. According to Kiyosaki your equity is an asset, but your mortgage is a liability. When your house is paid off, then it's definitely an asset. But until then, he argues, it's a liability. He puts it this way. If you buy a bigger house do you then have a bigger asset? Not if it comes with a bigger mortgage, then you have a bigger liability.

That's cool. And boring.

Roller Coaster

I never knew that deciding whether or not to put my kids into an accelerated classroom would come with so much drama. I talk to one person and I feel up, then I get information from another and down I go.

I will be meeting with the 5th grade ALL teacher next week and I'm hoping that will help me settle my decision. I can't even put into words the emotions I'm feeling: concern, frustration, anger, helplessness, etc.

I had a dear friend's father volunteer to tutor my children in Math, this summer and/or next school year. I've had people tell me that they would never participate in such a program, because they don't want it to go to the kid's head. Some people have said that they don't think it matters one way or another. If that's true why do I feel that people have such strong opinions?

I promise I'll post on something more interesting next time...like why I ripped all my hair out in the last two weeks. Yea, that'd be interesting.

Investigations

I found out today that the ALL program my kids are officially signed up for uses "Investigations" Math. It's a conceptual based program that I think is TERRIBLE. I was part of a wave of parents who helped get Investigations out of our elementary school. It has taken Emma two years to recover from K-2 of Investigations. This year, Emma is actually now advanced in math.

We have some exceptional 5th and 6th grade teachers at my kid's elementary school and we don't use Investigations. We have until May 15th to submit the paperwork accepting or rejecting placement at Cherry Hill. Unfortunately, mine is already turned in. However, I think I could withdraw it and keep my kids at the regular elementary.

I feel so conflicted I could almost barf. I know I could supplement the kids with extra projects and neat things like that. I've heard from so many people of their kids getting overwhelmed with homework.

One woman told me her son had 2-2.5 hours of homework a night at the beginning of the school year.

The 3-4 program also seems different from the 5-6. So where I'm worried about putting Emma in, I feel less worried about putting Anson in.

I'm also concerned because the kids will be so disappointed, Wendell will be disappointed, my friend Allison will be disappointed when we don't carpool. I feel like, if I don't do this program I'm letting "Everybody" down.