Welcome to the Circus, otherwise known as, "My Life"

As I drove back from the car dealership this afternoon, I wondered to myself, "are other people's lives like this?? I never really hear of other people's lives being this wacky."

As I glanced around my van, which three of my family members refer to as, "the crap mobile" I thought of my friend's van, (Ill keep this anonymous, and call her "Jane".) Jane's van looks like she just bought it an hour before, everyday. It is shiney and clean and smells like new car. Im pretty sure Jane has never tossed Happy Meal boxes to kidlets in the back row, never had anyone throw up on the van carpet, or lost sippy cups full of milk under her seats, Im certain of it. And, how do I know? Because, Jane, was kind enough to drive my kids and I to swim team yesterday, due to my key-less-ness, and I was able to experience the beauty that is her van.

Jane's house, is much like everyone else's house I know; you feel like you have walked into a page from "pottery barn", in a good way. Kids dont leave their toys on the floor, no, they are all put away into decorative storage baskets. No finger prints or graffitti on the walls, just matted pictures of the perfect children. The kitchen sink and counter tops? Aside from the Williams Sonoma, fragrant hand soap and coordinating lotion, they're clear!

But anyways, I thought of how everyone else's life seems so in-sync, and I sighed.

I was determined to stop comparing myself and just to be grateful for my crap-mobile, I had even missed it after the days of keylessness. So,I drove home from the car dealership, thankful for my new keys, and relieved that the saga was over.

The whole thing began, at 8am on Wednesday morning. We were all planning on picking My Honey up at the airport. He was returning from a business trip, and had taken Super Shuttle, leaving his car at home. Everyone was ready to leave, except for Little One, who thought to herself, "No sense getting out the door on time THIS morning, I think Ill poop myself and give my mom something to do." So she did.

As I went to change her, I realized that I was out of diapers, but thankfully, there was a big box of Huggies in the car. (note to dad's, it's not possible to carry everything out of the car, including kids, and all their gear, and groceries, unless you are Jane.)

Pooper, my responsible 7 year old, offered (was threatened with no Webkinz time if he didnt comply) to get the box out of the car... he took my key, unlocked the car door, brought the box into the house....and......????

I changed Little One's diaper, and we all got into the car. I asked Pooper for the key, and he didnt know where it was.

Just so you know, Pooper takes my key to get into the car often, usually in the morning, when he is running around looking for his shoes, which are typically in my car, because he changes in the van for swim team after school. He always puts the key on the driver's seat for me, after opening the car. But not today.

We searched the car, searched the house, and before you know it, nearly an hour had passed, and My Honey called wondering where we were, as he was standing outside of baggage claim at the airport, the airport that was 30 minutes away.

I loaded the kids into My Honey's car, transferring all the car seats, and we were good to go.

Over the course of the next couple of days, I searched high and low for that darned key.

Part of searching "high and low" means, searching IN the car. Unfortunately, after taking out the car seats and putting them into My Honey's car, I mistakenly locked the van. great!

So, I called a towing service, who came out and opened up the car, only with a lot of fanfare.

I should point out, that, due to the misfiring of brain cells in my head, our gas was turned off on Wednesday evening, and by the time I got home, it was too late to get it turned back on. Now, just so you dont think Im a complete nincompoop, the notice even pointed out, that I last paid them IN FULL on February 19th. So, it wasnt like I had just gone forever without paying, it's just that the gas company has a grace period of like, negative days.

So, Thursday morning, I paid the bill, and the chipper gal told me they could, "come out Saturday to turn it back on." Um, Saturday? That's not really working for me. So, she put me on hold, and told me they could have someone out within 4 hours. (So glad I didnt accept the Saturday thing!)

Because the moon and the stars and the tides seem to be in perfect alignment with the rhythms of my life. The tow truck driver and the gas man showed up at exacly the same time. and for good measure, I had just put Little One down for a nap.

As soon as the gas man went into the house to do his thing, the tow truck dude unlocked my van, and the car alarm began to sound.

I looked at the tow truck driver and he stared at me blankly. I asked him if he could turn off the alarm, and he said I would need the key.

Suddenly, my eyes rolled back into my head, and it was as if I could hear circus music, and there was confetti and a trapeze artist, and a bunch of smelly elephants and a big banner in front of my house that said;

"Hey look over here! The gas man is here because we forgot to pay our bill, and we also have a giant tow truck out front, maybe our car is getting repossessed, and, oh, we cant turn this alarm off either!"

I felt like such a spectacle on my quiet street.

and the alarm didnt stop!

I played under the hood, looking for the alarm (to pull the wires) and was tempted to just yank the entire battery out of the car, but the alarm stopped. That is, until Pooper opened up the passenger side door, and it set the whole thing off again! Suddenly (or not!) the tow truck driver told me if I open up all the doors, the alarm will go off, and it did. and the baby was crying.

Too end this long story, we woke up at the crack of dawn to take My Honey to work this morning, and afterwards went to the car dealer to get new keys made. And then, we came back home with the new keys.

They had given me directions to use this emergency key, complete with punching in a secret code, using my foot to pump the gas pedal a certain amount of times. The guy in the parts department wished me luck, as he can never get the secret-brake-pumping code thing to work. I went home, tried it, and it worked.

This was only half the process, as I now needed to drive my van back to the dealership (another transfering of all car seats) so that they could reprogram my van with a new code or something fancy.

While back at the dealership, the kids were playing nicely in the playroom, and I noticed a little dog trotting by. Apparently, one of the employees brings the puppy to work each day. Little One got a lot of laughs at the puppy, it was cute.

A bit later, while on the ground picking up some of the playroom Legos, Pooper said, "Ewwww! This floor is wet" and followed with, "It's pee!!" as he sniffed his dampened hand.

For a fraction of a split-second, I thought, "that darned dog shouldnt be allowed......" but before I could even begin to think it, my head turned, and I was staring at Beauty.

If you have read this blog, you know that Beauty ...well, I dont know how to say it, except that she is unwilling to listen to the "I have to pee" warning that goes off in her body.

I knew it was Beauty. About 10 minutes before, she has asked to use the bathroom, and I should have known, that it was an "after" use, probably to wipe the dribble on her leg or something.

I called her over, and while her dress was dry, the Disney Princess panties were soaked.

So, for the next 15 minutes, while waiting for the car to be ready, I cringed everytime that little dog came over to us. I was pretty sure that he would start sniffing the pee spot on the carpet, and lights and sirens would go off, and everyone would know, that the MOTHER OF THE YEAR was in the building, the mother who's five year old daughter peed in the playroom. And the mother who didnt notify anyone, or try to soak up any of the moisture. No, the mother that just prayed to God that the car would be ready soon, so she and her kidlets could just go back home and hibernate.

And all the way home, I wondered, if anyone else ever has days, or years, or lifetimes like mine.

so much to say.....

Sorry for the long delay,

I had started to write a little series on visits to the Easter Bunny to get our picture taken, but ran into a problem sizing this years photo. And trust me, I need to post this years photo for you to get the gist of things.

In the meantime, so much going on here, not the least of which is the fact that Pooper lost the key to my car, and the hunt includes having the car alarm go off, over and over again, without being able to turn it off.

And, speaking of cars, about an hour ago, I BARELY TAPPED a car as I was backing out of a parking spot (driving My Honey's car, since, I cant find my key), going a whopping 3.2 miles per hour. There were no marks or scratches on either car, but rather than be a "hit and runner" I went and looked for the owner, to say, "I backed into your car, but I wanted you to see there are no marks."..and instead of being met with any sense of sanity, the 19 year old lexus (or was it an infinity or bmw??) owner (I think mom co-signed) absolutely went nutzo, with lots of drama and cussing..she even had the nerve to ask me, "Do you even know how much this car cost??" I all but called the cops for my own protection...but Ill leave that story (along with the Easter Bunny photo saga) to be done after I get a nights rest.

And, oh, tomorrow will be day 3 without a car key, so you know there will be something to blog about there too.

Is it just me?

Something has been on my mind lately. It's one of those odd things that I keep mulling over in my mind, wondering the answers to a quizzical situation, and, well, Im just wondering if Im alone.

Im a news junkie, you already know that. So, Ive read, ad nauseum, about Spitzer's affair, about Obama's pastor, the housing market, all of it. It's interesting the first time around, maybe even the first few times, but then I move on.

But one news story has stuck in my brain like a dead rat behind a stove, and I havent been able to move on. I think there are a few things that are still unclear to me, that I need to have answered, before I can put this news story behind me.

It has to do with that lady that sat on the toilet seat for two years. Did you read about her? She sat on the toilet seat, and fter awhile she began to get sores, and then those sores healed or grew or SOMETHING, and adhered to the toilet seat. When her boyfriend finally called 911, TWO YEARS LATER, to say, "hey, somethings wrong with my girlfriend, she wont/cant get off the toilet" the rescue crew arrived, and they couldnt get her off the toilet either, so they BROKE THE TOILET SEAT OFF THE TOILET, and took her to the hospital with the SEAT STILL ATTACHED TO HER REAR and then the ER doctors PRIED THE SEAT OFF HER.

Um, my head hurts when I try to process this. The progression of events is not being accepted into my brain. Im not understanding a few things, and I need some clarity before I can move on to the next odd news story.

First of all, what prompted her to go to the toilet? Was she just going potty, or was she mad at her boyfriend and in a fit of tantrum, went and sat on the toilet? My neural transmiters NEED to know this before they can start trying to understand what happened.

If she was just going potty, then what happened? Why couldnt she get up? Was she, like, constipated, and sat there for hours? or, what???

If she was having a tantrum, maybe she was just refusing to come out of the bathroom because she didnt want to talk to her boyfriend, and 15 minutes turned into a few hours and maybe he said mean things through the bathroom door, and so, she stayed a while. But, it's important to know, how they heck did this weird situation get started??

And then, there is the issue with the sores. I know it's gross, but I need to understand this. Did she already have sores? Did the sores come about because she sat there for so long that her skin got sore? How long before she got the sores?

The reason the sores matter, is because, apparently, it was the eventual skin growing over the sores that caused her to get stuck, I THINK?????

Let's back track...when did it come to be, that she couldnt get up? Did she ever try to get up? When? Was she refusing to get up or she couldnt get up? That's important to know.

And, how long had she been there before he skin started GROWING AND ATTACHING to the toilet seat?

I almost need a picture of this, I know, it's disgusting to even read about. In fact, if you are still reading, you are either gagging, and/or a true news junkie like myself.

We news junkies dont shy away from the disturbing things in life, we are drawn to them. Like pre-teen girls to Hannah Montanah, we are drawn to those things that display the bizarre of humanity.

Back to this gal, I think If I could see a picture, it would help. Was she really obese, and her rear is actually stuck in the seat? or, is it like the news seems to explain, that her skin had grown on/over the toilet seat itself? I think if I could see a picture of this, a lot *might* be cleared up for me.

To make matters even more complicated, her boyfriend is now being charged with some sort of abuse, because he didnt help her sooner.

That in itself raises a whole host of new ponderings; at what point did his lack of intervention become abuse? did he try to get her off of the seat? I mean, if the firemen couldnt get her off, and they doctors had to use a crow bar or something, what did we expect this guy to do, and when? And, maybe instead of getting in trouble, he should get a reward. I mean, I dont know too many boyfriends that would stick around with a girl on a toilet for two years, especially when her skin had grown onto the seat...Im just guessing, but that might be a "deal breaker" for a lot of guys.

Did he go in and talk to her each day? Was he nice? What did they talk about? Did he bring her meals? Did they play checkers or backgammon? Did he put a tv in there for her? Did he bring her a toothbrush so that she could have fresh breath, even though her backside was stuck to the toilet? Did she flush the toilet so the water wouldnt go stale? Did she keep going potty? How many rolls of toilet paper did she use?

Really, the questions could go on forever, and I know I will never get them all answered, and that's ok, but, I really do need to just have a tad more information, so that I can get some sort of understanding on this odd scenario, enough to file it away in my minds "weird news" filing cabinet.

Anyone else with me on this? Anyone else left wondering what in the world happened here?

With a cherry on top!

Well, the weekend was so much fun, that it seemed a shame for it to all come to an end.....

Tomorrow, Ill need to call the orthopedic doctor, first thing, to get in to have Pooper's cast made. His arm is not very secure in the ace bandage/splint, and with two bones broken in there, it doesnt take much movement to send him shreiking in pain. But, that doesnt seem like *quite* enough excitment, does it? I mean, broken arm - smoken farm, that's just too ordinary. So, to spice things up a bit, Pooper decided to lose the silver crown on his tooth. Not that he actually "decided", as in planned it, it just happened, 'cause that's the kind of kid he is.

So, I called the dentist, to tell him that the crown that was on the "root canal" tooth, has fallen off, and did he think we needed to fix it today, or could we wait a day. He said, "no problem, I can just put it right back on today."

Oh, but wait, we have lost it, most likely, Pooper swallowed it. And while most kids would probably poop it out, my guess, if I were a bettin' woman, is that Pooper's silver crown, will probably snag on his intestines, or something fun like that, just for the heck of it. So, we will make a point of going on a treasure hunt, each time he goes potty, to make sure it is accounted for.

Now the dentist will have to make a new crown. He said if Pooper isnt too uncomfortable, we can do it tomorrow.

Bonus prize for us, Pooper is already loaded up on pain meds, and they will probably cross over and cover his tooth (even though they arent quite taking away the arm pain, at least now, the meds will be good for SOMETHING.) I told him that Im gonna try to get his arm cast done first thing in the morning, and then we will pop on over for the new crown. So, tomorrow should be like having Christmas on the 4th of July.


But wait, something is missing here....I mean, we are a family that needs things to be hopping with drama. It doesnt seem like we have enough going on....hmmmm, how about we fall back on our old stand-by, the vacation home we call the Emergency Room, naaaw! that's old hat.

I know, how about if My Honey and Little One, who were in Atlanta, Georgia, have some plane mishaps, yeah, that should keep us on our toes. Let's just say that when they got to the airport in Atlanta, My Honey noticed that the plane was delayed, and expressed his concerns to the ticket gal;

My Honey: It looks like the plane delay is gonna make me miss our connector in North Carolina.

Customer-service-agent-from-Hades: Oh, dont worry, we value YOU as a customer, and we will make sure you dont miss your connecting flight.

My Honey: But, it's pretty impossible for us to make it, because the flight from here to NC is late, and Im gonna miss the flight, and Im travelling with a ONE YEAR OLD CHILD, so can you please switch me now to another flight, so that I get to Los Angeles TONIGHT?

Customer-service-agent-who-should-be-fired: Oh, but you are customer, so you are KING, I will make sure we hold your connecting flight, so that you and your sweet baby get back home to Los Angeles tonight.

So, My Honey and my baby board the flight from Atlanta to Charlotte, and when they arrive in North Carolina, they are instructed to RUN to their connecting flight, but, silly them, that flight had already left.

So, running, huffing, puffing, all for naught, they are out of luck and STUCK IN NORTH CAROLINA FOR THE NIGHT.

There are no other planes that can get them home tonight.

And, because US Airlines is itching to lose all of their customers and go bankrupt, the customer service agent in North Carolina refuses to give My Honey any kind of compensation. It took climbing the ladder, complaining to the manager's manager, to get them to finally spring for a cheap motel and a $10 food voucher. Whoa!

So, now they are in a roach motel, with no room service, or transporation, or any place to get milk for my Little One. And they will rise and shine early in the morning, so that they can start all over again and pray to get home tomorrow afternoon.

And, I think that might hold us over for a bit, a little bit, until the next fun thing happens in our household.

Paddy Murphy's Law

I cant tell if it's the 'Luck of the Irish' upon us, or just that I'm living out Murphy's Law, but things have not been dull around these parts.

If you've ever wondered some creative ways to put a damper on a good time, here are some ideas for ya:

1. If you and your oldest daughter are at Disney's California Adventure, having the *best time ever* (truly) watching repeat shows of the High School Musical street show, and going on Tower of Terror, and enjoying yourself more than you ever have, even though you have been there 31,806 times, then it would be Murphy's Law, to have said time interrupted with a call from your son's school. The call would be all staticky, because the lack of clarity re: what happened is necessary to increase any worries you might have, but you know he is hurt and to hurry to get him.

2. If your husband and baby ever fly across the country to visit his parents, for a wonderful SURPRISE birthday, because it is both parent's birthday, and the baby is great on the plane, and having a wonderful time with her grandparents, then it would be Murphy's Law, if that town across the country had a record breaking storm, complete with tornadoes that suck windows and furniture out of high rise buildings and softball sized hail, because, nothing says, "I miss my baby" quite like having her across the country in harms way. And, Happy Birthday to the grandparents!

3. If you have ever tried all year to do something, like, skip a bar on the monkey bars at school, and you finally do it, it would be Murphy's Law, that when you finally achieve this feat, that you fall and break two bones in your arm. And, make sure it's on the weekend that your dad and sister are on a vacation, and your mom has promised to take you to the community Spring carnival (games, bounce houses, and other things boys with broken arms cant do), and also, you have a Little League game.

4. If your husband and baby go away for the weekend, and you are excited to do some fun, non-baby stuff with your big kids, it would be Murphy's Law that one of your big kids breaks his arm, so that all of your plans are pretty much squashed, oh, and your baby and husband are in the midst of tornadoes, just to make sure your fun-time mood is thoroughly dampened.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

It's time for that schizophrenia we call, "Daylight Savings"

It's hard to believe that making a one hour adjustment to our clocks could cause such discombobulation, but somehow it does.

When I was in high school, my English teacher mentioned a tribe of people that had no concept of time, they only thought in the present. Well, I couldnt quite get that, and perseverated on it for quite some time, like, it's been 27 years and hear I am talking about it.

The group was Indian, and I dont remember if they were, "Native American" or from India, but they had little resources or technology. I remember my teacher talking about them walking miles to get water to boil for dinner, and pretty much that is where my incessant need to understand this concept set in, and my ears turned off.

"If they never thought of the future, they wouldnt go get water? right? I mean, it took hours, and a long walk to get the water, but if they werent thinking ahead to dinner (and boiling the water) they wouldnt have ever gone to get it in the first place? right?"

Im sure I drove her crazy, as I just couldnt wrap my head around people that never considered time, ever, at all. It just didnt seem possible.

Then we have our tightly wound culture, which is a bit nit picky in the time department.

For example, when I was in high school, we had 7 minutes to get from class to class. Not 6 or 8 minutes, but 7. As you can imagine, this caused the start time for all classes to be things like; 10:42 and 1:34...nothing rounded to the nearest 5, nope, everything was down to the nearest 60 seconds. Detentions awaited those that didnt have their watches synchronized.

When I worked for the county orphanage, it was like a black comedy on the insaneness of time. We had to check in at a desk to get our keys, and up above the desk was a giant digital clock which counted down to the SECOND!

Getting to work was no easy task. Forget about the horrendous freeways we deal with in Southern California, getting to the "control desk" was a feat in itself.

Once you found a parking spot, which was not easy, as there was always construction from the neighboring jail and courts which seemed to have continual remodeling, you then had to get into the building. You would buzz a bell at the door, wait for someone to let you in, buzz at another door, then go to your mailbox and get a tag, which you would bring up to the control desk under the gigantor clock.


It was ridiculous. It was like a maze or scavenger hunt, and God help you if the people that should open the doors (when buzzed) were busy, and took an extra few seconds.

The county was very strict, and if you were 1 second late, you were late. And it didnt matter when you actually entered the building, the time was counted when you were at the desk with your tag. AND, if you had 3 tardies (throughout your employment, it didnt start over each year) you would be SUSPENDED.

I was suspended once. I had worked there for 5 years, and had never been more than 2.5 minutes late, and was suspended.

I see I've gotten off on a tangent about the ridiculousness of time, but can you imagine the folks in that Indian tribe, getting all bent out of shape if they got to the water hole 3 seconds too late?

So now, we have gone and changed our clocks an hour. We have shifted in space, a whole 60 minutes, and for some, it's hard to function under the new order.

When I was single, I liked daylight savings, because it would stay dark longer in the morning...which allowed me to sleep in without the sun waking me.

Now that Im older, Im not such a fan of this feature. I havent been able to "sleep in" in over 8 years, so there is no benefit to the sun rising later. No, now that I wake up early, it helps me to have the sun there to prod at my eyeballs and get me moving, and with daylight savings I dont get that assistance. Im forced to stumble around, in the dark, and turn on lights, and grumble that if God wanted us to be up that early he would have given us an earlier sunrise. And bemoan the ridiculousness of schools starting so early, how are we supposed to feed and dress our kids and get them to school at such an unreasonable hour?

Im of the mindset that you should wake up naturally, when your body is ready, like you see them doing in those mattress commercials, silky jammies, soft curls in their hair, smiles on their dewey faces as they greet the morning sunshine, which filters in through their window sheers.

But now, with daylight savings, we dont get that opportunity. It's gonna be dark in the mornings, DARK. Im not looking forward to our first Monday (ie. school day) under the new time, Ill let you know how it goes.

As for the second half of daylight savings, the savings part, where it gets to stay dark longer. Well, that has some benefits, of course.

In our house, the biggest benefit is that when Pooper gets out of the pool at 5:15pm each day, it will still be sunny and warm. This winter, it was often getting dark, and very cold, and that made practice dreary. I know he is happier about the time change, so that he doesnt feel as if he, "swam so long, until nighttime."


I know the late night sun is great for those whose parents let them run around like helions until it gets dark, but my kids arent in that group, their mom is not that nice.

The downer, is that my kids go to bed at 8pm. Actually, they go pick out their bedtime story at 7:35, and are in bed with their books by 7:45, so that lights are out and bedtime is over by 8pm.

Thanks to daylight savings time, that would be the same 8pm when it's still sunny outside.

It's gonna be hard enough to convince my kids to get in bed when the sun is saying, "hey, Im still here, it's too early for bed!", and even harder when they hear the screams and laughter of the neighbor children, frolicking outside beneath their windows, singing high school musical songs and riding their bikes.

It's just a darned hour. Why do things change so drastically over 60 little minutes?

I meant it when I said I still obsess about that Indian tribe. Im pretty sure they are a relaxed bunch. No bedtimes, no alarm clocks, and no daylight savings time.

Researchers have discovered that peeing in public is a genetic disorder

I dont know when this all began.

I have two early memories of peeing in public, or, shall I say, thinking about peeing in public.

Number one, about three or four years old, playing with my brother (2 years my junior) and some neighborhood boys. One or some of them stopped to pee in the bushes and the world stopped turning, and I realized that they had a really cool trick, and I wished I could do it too. But I couldnt. And I didnt.

Number two, around the same time period, some of us kids in the neighborhood would run through the sprinklers in our underwear.....but only one of us (that would be me, the GIRL) would have to go inside to use the restroom.

Those are them....perhaps the moments in my life when the seeds were planted.

I've always been modest, so, it's not like you would ever actually see me peeing in public, at least not with my pants down.

However, from 7th to 12th grade, I have countless recollections of doing crazy things with my friends, we would end up laughing so hard that the end result would be me peeing in my pants.

One such incident happened when my mom sent me to the grocery store. I must have been 16, cause I could drive, and so we went to Albertsons to gather what my mom had told me to buy. Something happened in the produce department. I think my friend was goofing around, flipping her feather bangs back and forth, dramatically, which made us both laugh, laughing so har we were crying, and before you know it, it was as if Niagra Falls had sprung a leak, and try as I might, there was no stopping it. So, still in hysterics, we left the store, I went home to change, and we returned 20 minutes later to resume shopping.

So, it was pretty well ingrained by my teens.

Im gonna have to say my mother (the notorious Grandma J) was definitely to blame. I still remember driving home from *somewhere* in her Nissan 200SX, when she announced that she had to go to the restroom. Realizing we were nowhere near a bathroom stop, she decided she would just pee her pants, in the car, rather than try to hold it and risk an accident. I was disgusted, but Im sure this totally damaged my senses and is one of the reasons that I continue with this concept of urinating out in the open.

Fast forward to today. Im a mother, 3 small children, at the little league fields. Pooper is warming up, the team is ready to take the field, and Beauty comes up wiggling, "I have to pee!".

As it is with Beauty, her "I-have-to-pee-body-alarm-system" often malfunctions, and does not alert her to the need until it is far too late. As she does the fancy footwork, which clearly says, "I cant hold it any longer" I look far off into the distance, over at the public bathrooms about 1/2 a mile away, and realize, we wont ever make it. Not to mention I have Little One to carry. So, the switch in my brain went on and I told her we would find a place to go outside.

Right near our field, was a small hill. I gave Beauty a science lesson, and taught her to sit at the top of the hill, so that the pee would run downward....a very easy way to sit and pee in public, without anyone noticing, and relatively hygenic, RELATIVELY.

I was sort of ashamed to have initiated my daughter into this terrible behavior, but I convinced myself that there are worse things, and besides, nobody saw a thing.

A couple of innings into the game, and Pooper is on third base, ready to run home, while holding his crotch. Not just holding it, in that baseball player way, but really HOLDING IT, making it known to all that he has to pee.

Again, my option is the public bathrooms a million steps away....I would have to take him, and the girls, and he'd likely miss most of the game, and then I thought, since Beauty did it, and she is a girl, surely I could get away with Pooper peeing outside. So, I grabbed him, dragged him over to a tree, and told him to quickly go.

I turned away, watching his team get their gloves and hats and race out into the field, and I turned back, and there was Mr. Discreet, pants down around his ankles, shoulders back, making a giant golden arch up agains a tree. He might as well have put up a neon sign that said, "hey look! Im peeing in front of everyone!" After what seemed like forever, and some snickers from the stands, he pulled up his uniform, grabbed his glove and headed out to the field.

Ok, the season has just started, and Ive clearly identified myself as the world's most horrible mom. but at least nobody wet their pants.

The game is almost over, and Beauty comes up, no lie, and has to go again.

The game is only an 75 minutes long, for goodness sakes, did my kids save up a day's worth of pee for this particular outting?????

Id have told her to hold it, but, Im telling you, this girl is no one to mess with when she says she has to go. Same dilemna faces me, we just arent close enough to the bathrooms to get their in time, so, yep, she went and did her sit-at-the-top-of-the-hill routine, and did it pretty well, I might add.

Im pretty sure, to those that noticed, we were the topic of conversation later in the evening; "did you see that one mom and her kids? they all kept peeing outside, buns out in the open, and she let them!!!"

I wouldnt feel so bad if other parents did the same thing, but they dont. They miss innings to walk to the bathrooms, and some have even driven home to go!

Lots of families have their issues; skeletons in the closet, family secrets, and it seems that ours is just out in the open.

Words that cant be spoken

Sometimes this blog is just a fun hobby, and sometimes I really need to get things out.

This past weekend, tonight included, has been a time when I would love nothing more than to vent and ramble on this blog, and to even ask for your advice and input. But, I cant.

Sometimes, I blog about myself, or my family, and, really, there is nothing they can say or do about it, because...well, because they dont read my blog, so they dont know what I say about them (evil laugh!)

There are times that I blog about others, but I try to do so anonymously, like, by calling them, "Jane" or something, so you dont know who they are.....or, by showing pictures but making sure you cant actually identify the person.

Oh sure, Ive danced on the edge a few times, like when I posted an actual picture, face and all, of the frisky man in the neighborhood that kept hitting on all the women joggers , or when I posted pictures of my soon-to-be-adopted-daughter-Sondra (although Im doubtful that was her real name.)

But this time, the situation is too sensitive. It involves children. It involves behaviors that havent been proven. It involves something that I hope can be resolved in a way that brings healing and restoration, and I think sharing it on this blog could risk that outcome.

I will say that my son has been complaining that he is being bullied at school. I will say that I have heard him sobbing, painful sobs that reveal a heart that has been hurt.

As a counselor with teens for many years, including at the Jr. High and High School level, where there was a "zero tolerance" for bullying, I have taken steps to insure that children were not harassed or harmed while at school. I know the damage that can be done when, to both parties, when people set out to hurt someone. I know that I will not allow my kids to treat others in a hurtful way, and if I find out they are doing so, I will do everything necessary to rectify the situation.

But it's different now that I am on the other end, when it is my child that is being bullied.

I will say that there are times that our children must face painful situations, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, except pray. Thanks to God, I have seen those situations turn out well.

With this current dilemna, we can and are doing something about it, including praying about it, and I hope that God shows us once again, that He is the Great Counselor, Great Healer of hearts, and that everyone involved will feel encouraged when things are over. It is God's nature to take what the devil tries to tear apart, and turn it into something good, and that is my hope for this situation.

and the winner is...............

Sorry Im late, as Im sure you can all appreciate, I wanted to take the time to savor each and every vacation story. And, to write all the names down, fold up the pieces of paper, and conduct the drawing, well, all things take time.

But I've got a winner.....it's Bossy! Bossy, please send me your address and Ill get your $10 Starbucks card in the mail.

Thanks to all of you for taking part in the contest, I hope you had fun!

and to those still waiting for the reply from the landlord.....well, me too!

**Contest Time**

Ok, I spent a lot of time talking about our "Vacation" and I use the word "vacation" quite loosely, as it actually was more like our time on "work detail".....and it has prompted me to wonder about YOUR vacation experiences.

So, please, share with me your most memorable vacation. It can be your most enjoyable, most romantic, most wild, most disasterous, any vacation you want to share.

Entries should include a little story about the vacation, not just, "I went to the desert"....

Everyone that enters a "little story" about their trip will be entered into a drawing, and one of my kids will pick the winner...and, hold on to your seats, -and I dont mean in the airplane-seat-as-a-life-preserver-kind-of-holding-on-to-your-seat, but in a WHHOOOOO WEEEE, this is going to be GREAT, kind of "hold on to your seat"......

The winner will receive a $10 gift card to Starbucks.

I found a few Starbucks cards in my "gift card" pile, and since the only things I get at Starbucks are hot chocolate and frappucinos, and since both of those have more calories than a Big Mac, and Im trying to reduce the size of my rear so that it might one day FIT in an airline seat, Ive decided I shouldnt go there anymore, so Im giving one of my gift cards to the winner.

So, please join in.......everyone has until midnight Pacific Standard Time, and the winner will be announced in the next day or two.

commercial break

Now, for a word from our sponsors...

Oh, I dont really have sponsors. To have sponsors, you have to have more than 4 readers, so, that kinda leaves me out. Although, I do have those ads at the bottom that have been clicked on ZERO times, but they dont really count since 0+0=0.

But, bossy just had a contest, and Im in a copying kind of mood, and besides this saga of our Winter Wonderland needs a breather, so, Ill be searching my house for a prize item and tomorrow will have a fun contest.

And, by searching my house, dont worry, Im not giving away my unmatched socks, Im gonna look through my gift cards and pick one to give away.

A disclaimer, it's not going to be worth $500 or anything, Im not Pioneer Woman as Grandma J so kindly pointed out to me when I had my last contest...but, it will be something, and it will be fun, so hurry back tomorrow!

and....we are still waiting for the response from the LANDLORD.

Winter Wonderland, Part 6

Yesterday I sent the landlord a letter.

I purposely didnt send it immediately after our stay, because I knew that the cabin was going to be used this past weekend. I wasnt sure if he and his family (he has 3 children, according to the pictures in the cabin) would be using the cabin, or if it was being rented out to a vacationing family, but either way, I felt it best to wait until after this weekend to send my letter.

You see, I got a feeling, that T thought I was just being "high maintenance." The remark to just wear a sweater, or telling me that, "it isn't going to get HOT", seemed to imply that I just couldnt handle mountain life.

I am certain, that if he and his family went up for this past weekend, he would see first hand the conditions we faced. And Im pretty sure his wife and kids wouldnt be satisfied with a "sweater" in the 55 degree cabin ...(and, by the way, there was a little more snow that fell the week after we left, so no chance that the snow had melted away.)

If, the cabin was rented out by another family, I highly doubt that would have been as patient and understanding as we were, regarding a freezing cabin and snowed in entrance. Im sure he got an earfull from whomever stayed there this past weekend.

And, let's not forget, that the tenants all got to enjoy hot water, compliments of My Honey!

So, I thought it best to wait, so that the landlord had more information, before sending my letter regarding our stay.

I sent this yesterday, here it is.....

Hi T,

I wanted to give you some feedback re: our rental of your cabin.

It's a great cabin, and I can tell you have put a lot of work into it. It
looked very nice and had everything we needed for a great stay.

The location was also nice. The area to the left made a great sled run, and we
enjoyed taking a walk above the stream.

I would encourage you to look into a service to clear the area before other
tenants arrive. We had many friends renting cabins over the holiday weekend,
and they all reported that a service had been hired to clear the snow so that
they could park and enter their cabins safely.

(My Honey) and I spent 4.5 hours, just trying to clear enough of a path to get the
kids inside safely. The 2.5 feet of snow had packed into ice and was very
difficult to remove. The kids had to wait in the car while we did this, and as
you can imagine, when you are only there for a weekend, it's not much fun to
spend the first day just trying to get inside.

Additionally, I think it would be helpful for you to have a local handyman that
you trust to take care of issues such as the heating and water. The heat never
rose above 58 degrees, which was pretty miserable. The pilot to the hot water
heater was out, and it took (My Honey) a couple of hours to get it lit, since it was
electric and couldnt be done with a match. I know if he was going to be
putting in hours doing fix it work, he would have rather done it at home, rather
than on our vacation. As it was, we didnt have hot water for half of our stay.

I am including some pictures, so that you can see just how much snow we had to
contend with. As you can see, the snow on the stairs, which had turned to ice,
and impossible to clear with the snow shovel (by the way, it took almost an hour
just to unbury the snow shovel which was under two feet of snow on the back
porch.) it was up to (My Honey's) knees, and we had to chip away at it with a hammer
and wrench.

I can tell by the upkeep and condition of the cabin that you are consciencious,
and wanted to pass along this feedback so that you can ensure that your future
tenants are able to enjoy their vacation.

best regards,
kim

Here are the pictures I attached, hopefully he gets a good sense of things and realizes that this is not acceptable to rent out a cabin and leave the vacationers to try to clear their entries themselves. I will say, it probably doesnt help that My Honey looked so happy clearing the stairs, but at least he knows we try to make the most of things. and...by the way, I didnt put "My Honey" in the real letter...








It's been less than 24 hours since the letter was sent...let's see if I hear any reply.

Winter Wonderland, Part 5

I must have gotten some sleep, eventually, because I was awoken (or awakened, or woken up, or whatever the grammatically correct way of saying THEY WOKE ME UP) by the children giggling and running upstairs. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of the bed, which had achieved some level of warmth.

I eventually dragged myself upstairs to the family room. It was 6:30. Beneath the down comforter wrapped around my body, was a sweat outfit, on top of wool thermals. And I. WAS. STILL. COLD.

It was an understatement to say that My Honey and I were a bit peeved. We grumbled a bit about how horrible it was that the landlord never called us back. We reminded each other that we needed to keep our happy faces on for the kids, who were having a great time in spite of the chilly temperature. He decided to go down to "tinker" with the heaters again, only coming back up to announce that, "they arent working." (grand revelation!)

I peaked at the thermostat, which was now at a whopping 58 degrees.

My Honey and I couldnt wait to call the landlord, and My Honey even said he would tell the landlord he would need to come up and fix these things right away! We decided we would wait until 8am, so as not to be rude.

The time never ticked so slowly! I couldnt wait to call him and get these matters resolved.

It was at this time, I called to commiserate with Grandma J. (she gets up at 5am, so there was no harm in calling her early.) Of course, instead of an understanding ear, Grandma J. reported that it was only 45 degrees in her house, and she felt just fine in her robe. She was lying, and had no sympathy, so I hung up.

8am arrived, and we called the landlord. and left another message.

Long story short (in an effort to protect you from my utter frustration)....the landlord called back at around 10am. He talked to My Honey, and I could tell by the depressed look on his face, that the landlord had no plans to fix things.

So, I took the phone and it went something like this:

Me: Hey T, yeah, the cabin never heated up last night, it's 58 degrees.

T: Well, you are in the mountains, it's not going to get HOT.

Me: Oh sure, I know, but it's pretty cold.

T: We usually wear our sweaters
when we are in the cabin.

Me: we all have 3-4 layers on, and are still shivering. We arent people that need to have a lot of heat, I mean, the 60's would be fine, but it was only 55 when we went to bed.

T: I dont know how reliable that thermostat is, they are notorious for being unreliable, so, that might not be the actual temperature.

Me: I dont know, but I know we are freezing. Havent any other tenants had a problem with the heat? If this is how it usually is, I would think you would have heard before, so maybe something isnt hooked up correctly.

T: nobody has ever complained. I mean, it's not hot, we keep a sweater on, but that's how it is in the mountains.

Me: (resigned re: the air temp) OK, well, what about the water? The water is ice cold too, the water heater isnt on.

T: I dont know about that, Ive never had it go out. I told your husband to see if he can figure it out and call me back.

Me: Ok. He has already spent a lot of time trying to warm things up, I know he doesnt want to spend our entire weekend VACATION on home repairs. He'll give it one last try.


When I hung up, I was fuming. Not enough to emit any steam to warm the place up, but I was really mad.

After another hour of tinkering, My Honey did get the water heater lit, no help from the landlord.

Im pretty sure if we wanted to have a "home improvement" weekend, we would have stayed home and done some jobs on our own house. It was ridiculous that so much of our time was being spent on things that, come to find out from everyone we talked to, should have been taken care of before our arrival.

We finally decided that the best plan for our day would be to get out of the icebox, er, I mean cabin.

We forced ourselves out from under the comforters and blankets and got dressed to go into town.

The kids had a great time, looking at shops, and a little patriotic show for the Presidents Day Weekend. Beauty was excited to see Uncle Sam and she and Pooper talked about him much of the rest of the weekend. They wanted to know who he was, how old he was, and was he everyone's uncle? how could that be?



We bought some bird food to feed the pigeons on the lake.....got some candy from the homemade candy shop, cause it's a vacation after all, and by golly, we were going to have some good times, even if I gained 8 pounds!



The second night was much like the first.....loaded up the fireplace with logs...ate a bunch of our ding dongs and popcorn.... went to bed pretty early because it was the only place that would eventually get warm.

On the final morning, we couldnt pack up fast enough! The sun was shining and we wanted to get out into the warmth and enjoy our last day. We took the kids to a large innertubing area on the way out of town, and we all had a blast! On the way home we listened to our folk music.

I cant say it was the vacation we had planned for, or hoped for, or needed....but it wasnt short on memories, no, we will always have lots of memories of living the mountain life.

Stay tuned to read my letter to the Landlord!

Winter Wonderfland, Part 4

We were all in good spirits as we drove away from our cabin. We went down the path, over the damn and soon were out on larger streets, and on to the main highway.

The Lake Arrowhead Village was just 2 miles away. I was careful to drive without swerving, as Pooper was still feeling nauseated a bit. Actually, more than a bit, because within a mile, he needed to throw up again, and again, and again.

Thankfully, we found the world's greatest restaurant (I guess that's how most restaurants would seem in our situation, but this truly was delicious) and there was no waiting time (a miracle on this holiday weekend!) Our table had a lake view, and, with the exception of Pooper's frequent trips to the bathroom, we really enjoyed our time.

We were joking with the hostess and waitress, that we had really worked up an appetite chipping away at our packed snow for the past few hours. They looked puzzled, and asked a few questions. When they had figured out that we had rented this cabin for the weekend, and had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to remove enough snow to get inside, they looked disgusted.

"When people rent out their cabins, they are supposed to have all the clearing done before you arrive." Said the cute gal, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, there are services that do that for the rentals, it's pretty standard." echoed the waitress assuredly.

Hmmm....I guess that would have been nice, but, oh well, maybe they dont rent it out much or something.

After dinner, we stopped at the supermarket and still feeling optimistic about the grand weekend we were about to have, I let every kid pick their own snack item....

"Whatever you want, this is vacation, and having whatever yummy snacks you want is what vacations are all about!" the kids looked surprised, that the mom that rarely even lets them have juice (high sugar content) would let them have open reign on snacks.

Pooper went off the deep end (sarcasm) and picked microwave popcorn (clearly a Grandma J influence)...I mean, can you imagine, being able to have ANYTHING and picking popcorn? I dont really care much for popcorn myself, not that I dont like it, and Ill certainly eat it out of boredom, but, at least to me, it's sort of like chewing on cardboard, or rice cakes, not my first choice.

Beauty was fickle, so I helped direct her to the Hostess aisle, and then went on and on about how scrumptious Ding Dongs are...and she took the bait! Ding Dongs in the house!

My Honey got some peanut butter crunch bar thingys....and myself, well, in an unconscious act of foreshadowing, I selected some ice cream bon-bons. That's right, my snack was FREEZING!

We got some basics for the weekend, cereal, fruit, milk, and firewood, because, it's mountain living, where we burn real wood in our fireplaces.

We journeyed back home, and everyone was excited to get inside the warm cabin.
I dont need to rehash the rigomoral it took to get us all into the cabin...but eventually we did it.

We got inside, took off our icey shoes and I noticed that, it was still pretty chilly, and as I marched on over to the thermostat, I was perplexed to see that it read 55 degrees. Fifty Five, as in 5-5, as in VERY DANG COLD.

Just as the frigid conditions were registering in my mind, My Honey hollered out,

"Hey, we dont have any hot water, something wrong with the water heater because the water is ice cold."

I pulled out the detailed email from the cabin owner, and went over (and over and over) his instructions re: the thermostat, the water, etc. We were to turn on the thermostat (check) and (I quote) "it should take about an hour to warm up" (NOT CHECK). Turn the water on, using the wrench a 90 degree turn (check), turn on the downstairs bathroom to make sure the water is on (check).

There was no mention of a water heater.

I decided to give the trusty landlord a call. It was 7:30pm, not too late, and perhaps he had some helpful hints re: getting the water to warm up, and oh , yeah, how to get the heater to work!

I left him an upbeat message, and waited for him to call back.

I helped the kids get into their PJ's, which ended up being layers upon layers of thermals, leggings, sweats, etc.

My Honey and I tried to keep the mood positive, for the kids.....we all wrapped up in blankets and comforters, hoping they would warm us up - in addition to our layered jammies, and ate our snacks, with a great big blazing fire in the fireplace (which, by the way, did nothing to ease the chill)....and within the hour, the kids were asleep.

We werent sure that Little One would even be safe sleeping in this cold. I had brought a pack N play for her to sleep in, and My Honey and I found some blankets on an extra bed, and wrapped them around the sides of the pack N play, hoping to cut down on the chill, insulate her a bit, without causing SIDS or something......

And then My Honey and I continued to shiver, our moods turning to frustration and annoyance....but still hopeful that things would work out, once the landlord called to tell us how to correct these issues, but perturbed that he hadnt bother to call us back.

As time passed, we tried to distract ourselves watching television, but it didnt work, we were still unbearably cold. So, we decided to go try ONE LAST TIME to see if we could warm the place up.

My Honey and I could hear the "blower" of the heater, but there was no air coming through the vents. With a flash light in hand, we hunted around for the water heater and air system. Both were located in a closet area, located off the bathroom.

Now, My Honey has a lot of strengths, but, to be perfectly honest, being a Handy Man isnt at the top of his "strengths list"....Im not sure if it's even on that list at all, but if it is, it's at the bottom, right next to "great disco dancer" and "creative scrapbooker"....it's just not his thing. In his defense, it probably COULD be his thing, I mean, he is smart enough, but he apparently has never been interested enough to make being Mr. Fix-It a part of his portfolio.

We are both staring at the water heater, looking for the pilot light, which we cant see, because it isnt lit. The system has an "electric ignition" so, it couldnt be lit with a match. We each read and reread and read to each other and read to ourselves, the directions on lighting the water heater. We tried to ignite it, and it just wouldnt work. HMPH!

The other heating system, as in the system that is SUPPOSED TO blow hot air into the house, sounded like it was blowing, but we couldnt feel any air coming out of the vents. We poked around the heater, and really had no clue...nothing was obvious to us, so we had to wait for the landlord to call and give us some direction on how to get it working.

As we retired to our room, I thought it best to close the bedroom door, because;

1. maybe our breath (and My Honey's gas) would get trapped in and help keep us warm.
2. every door and window seemed to have a 1/2 inch gap, and I didnt want to let any more cold air draft into the room.

My Honey, on the other hand, was not comfortable with the door closed, as he wanted to be able to hear the kids. They were all in the room right across the hall, and we kept their door closed (for the reasons I mentioned above) but he wasnt certain we could hear them in the middle of the night if both doors were closed.

As we slid into the sheets, we both gasped, as it was like sliding across a frosty, frozen, pond. As we huddled under the covers, moving our legs to try to create some warmth against the sheets, My Honey began to worry aloud;

"If the heating system is blowing, but there is no air coming in, THAT WE KNOW OF, I wonder what is blowing and if it's carbon monoxide, because you cant smell Carbon Monoxide and Im wondering if that is blowing into the rooms."

Great...that's all I need, is paranoia!

I tried to counter his fears;

"We've been here for a few hours now, wouldnt we be dead, or at least a bit woozy by now? And, what creates carbon monoxide? Does it come from regular heaters? Doesnt it have to be some old fashioned heater?"

He was serious, worried, "I dont know."

Well, there was just no way either one of us was going to sleep. If the freezing air didnt keep us awake all night, the thoughts of our kids suffocating from the noxious gases that might be leaking from the heater would keep our minds from getting any rest.

So, I decided we should call the Fire Dept. to allay our fears. But, I had no phone number for the Fire Dept, and was too cold to search the house for a phone book, I could barely move!!

I called 911, and quickly let them no this was NOT AN EMERGENCY, but I needed the NON-Emergency number to the Fire Dept.

They switched me to the EMERGENCY number of the Fire Dept....which made me nervous, because I feel as if I need to talk real fast, or I might be tying up the line when someone else had a real emergency (I know, they probably have more than one line, but anyways...)

I explained our plight, and the Fireman gave me told me I would have to call a different number, which he gave me. I began repeating it in my head, as I hung up the phone, and began to dial the number...AND THEN THE PHONE RANG.....AND THEN THE PERSON THAT CALLED HUNG UP.

I was certain it was the landlord, finally calling (near midnight now) because he felt awful that we were freezing and feared the liability of frozen people in his cabin....so, I dialed *69 to see who had called. And it was nobody, and in the meantime, I forgot the NON EMERGENCY number to the fire dept.

GREAT! Now what?

My only option was to call 911 again, and risk being in big trouble for abusing the emergency service, and also feel like a dork for not writing down the number (no pen handy, and I wasnt about to leave the bed to go find one.) So, I called again.

Embarassed, I got the number a second time, and called. And, guess what, the same guy that answered the emergency number, is the guy that answers the non-emergency number.

I pretended I didnt notice, and gave him the whole story again; renting a cabin, we can hear the heater blowing, but no hot air, is there a risk of carbon monoxide poisoning?

his answer: I dont know.

my response: Well, does a heater emit carbon monoxide? would that be possible?

his answer: I dont know.

my response: what types of appliances pose a danger of carbon monoxide poisoning?

his answer: it depends. We would need to look at the unit.

My response: ok, thanks.

I would almost rather freeze to death than have fire engines come roaring down this narrow road, lights a'flashing, up the icey stairs to check out the heater (not really, but...)... I mean, this had all gone too far.

So, I convinced myself that if there were a danger, we would have already died, and if not, and we were all dead in the morning, at least it would be peaceful and we would all be together, and the stupid landlord would be in big trouble and have to live with the guilt of freezing us to death for the rest of his life!

Winter Wonderland, Part 3

So, since pulling up to the cabin at noon, we have spent a good few hours chipping away at the snow, trying to clear enough to get the kids into the cabin safely. The shovel was of no help, so My Honey and I broke up the ice with a hammer and wrench. Sort of like a chain-gang, just hitting it, removing the blocks, bit by bit.

As the kids grew restless to get into the snow, I decided to take a break and change them into their snow clothes. Since the original plan (which was pretty much out the window, although I dont know if I knew it yet) was to have some snow play, I had kept their snow clothes, hats and mittens in a separate bag, and had dressed them in clothes that would be appropriate to go under the snow clothes...so, it was easy to get them out, dressed and into the snow to have some fun.

Pooper had been itching to build an "igloo", in fact, the day before, he was on the phone with one of the little girls from school, who was also going up to the mountains. We had talked about meeting up to let the kids play together, and this is the conversation I heard from Pooper on the phone:

P: Hey, me and you can make an igloo

P: (looking puzzled) yeah, they are easy.

P: No, I can totally make one, you just make a bunch of snow bricks.

P: It's easy, Ill show you.

Then when he got off the phone, he said, "mom, it's easy to make snow bricks, right?"

I told him that while the snow can be tricky, I was pretty sure he would be able to do it.

So, while dad slaved and sweated away on our "vacation", Pooper got to building his igloo, which eventually was downgraded to a "fort"



Beauty enjoyed sledding, and started out on the "driveway" eventually graduating to the perfect sledding area next to the cabin. That sled run is actually a dirt road, the same dirt road that the landlord suggested that we park on, if we werent able to clear the "driveway".



Little One, also my fiesty one, wanted to go sledding too, and she didnt want anyone touching her or helping her, no siree, she was gonna do it all by herself, and she did!





Before we knew it, the sun had ceased to temper the chilling air. It was after 4:30pm, and we knew we needed to get some food (nobody had eaten since breakfast! Hello!), get to the store, and get back to the cabin to settle in before dark.

The driveway was still packed with snow, as was the front of the stairs....we determined that the kids would be just fine, and we could get them up to the cleared section of stairs safely.

Once at the top of the stairs, there was a large area that was covered in icey-packed snow.



My Honey and I carefully got over the snow, while holding on to the side of the house, it was tricky, but we could do it. It wouldnt be safe for the kids, so the two of us worked together to get the kids to the top of the stairs, and then help lift them over to the door. Sounds simple, but with 3 kids and 2 adults, it became a bit tricky every time we came and went, to help one child down, leave them at the car, come up to get another, etc. etc. But we did it, because, it's mountain life, and it's a good life.

We got all of our bags inside, and let the kids take a look around. It was a nice cabin. They had obviously done a lot of recent work, as everything seemed new. There was a great kitchen and family room above, and down below were 3 bedrooms. This was fantastic, we'll have to come again and invite some friends....really a great cabin in an awesome location.

My Honey finished one remaining task, that had been in our outline from the owner; he turned on the water. We were now ready to roll, we couldnt wait to get into a warm restaurant and stuff our faces. Mountain life really builds up the appetite!

Before leaving, I glanced at the thermostat. We had turned the heat on about 5 hours prior, yet it had only moved a few degrees...it was now 53 degrees. Hmmm.... I was hopeful that things would be warmer by the time we came home later on that night.

Winter Wonderland, Part 2

As we turned off the main, mountain highway, we were consumed with the snowy forest. We winded down little side streets, carefully following the directions that the cabin owner had emailed to us, and found our cabin on a narrow path. The road was just barely wide enough for the car, lined with 2 feet of snow that had been cleared by a plow.

The kids were bubbling with glee, and even Pooper was shrieking in between his barfing.

As we pulled up, and doubled checked the address with the numbers on the cabin, we soon realized that we would not be able to pull into the "driveway" as directed in our notes. The "driveway" was packed in with snow, and we could see no other place to park. The road was narrow, so we couldnt just leave our car there, blocking the road. The only place that we could possibly park, would be about a mile or two up the road, across a damn, and that didnt seem feasible with the kids and luggage.

I made my first of several calls to the cabin owner:

Me: Hi T, we arrived at the cabin, but are unable to park in the driveway because of the snow. Is there another place nearby to park?

Cabin Owner: If you dont want to park on the snow, there is a shovel on the back patio of the cabin.

Me: Oh, ok. There is about 2 feet of snow on the drive way, so it wouldnt be possible to park there, we'll go up and get the shovel.

Cabin Owner: Really, Im surprised that there is still snow. Is there any on the stairs?

Me: Yes, the stairs have a lot of snow too.

Cabin Owner: The temperature has been warm during the day, Im surprised any snow is left. Well, be careful going up the stairs, just kick off any snow so that it doesnt get icey.

Me: Ok (still excited and totally ignorant to the impossibility of shoveling the drive.)

Now, for the record, we have had a lot of rain and snow in the past month. This past week, the daily highs were in the mid 50's and the nightly lows were about 30. So, that equates to a little melting of the snow pack during the day (although the cabin faces NW, and gets little sunshine in the front)...and that slushing snow just refreezes each night. So, just to be clear, this was not fluffy, snow....it was hard, packed, ice.

We leave the kids in the car, which is parked in the road, in front of the cabin. We figure they can hang out in the comfort and warmth for a bit, until we can clear things enough to get inside.

Thankfully, Pooper is well versed in throwing up, and can tend to himself without any assistance from My Honey or I.

My Honey and I then begin our journey to shovel off the drive.

Soon we realize, that it is quite a feat just to get up the stairs. They are slick and hard as a rock. They are solidly frozen, and dont give in at all to your foot. We both hold on to the side railing (which I worried would collapse against my weight) and managed to climb up the ice pack on the stairs. Whew!

Using the secret code given to us, we go into the cabin. I immediately turn on the heater, while My Honey heads out to the back patio to get the coveted snow shovel.

Unfortunately, he could not find the snow shovel anywhere! The back patio was also covered in a couple feet of snow, and I could see the handle of a stepping stool poking out of the ice. As I looked around, I could also see just a hint of grey plastic, from the snow shovel. It was buried beneath the snow, but was angled so that the edge of the shovel was up against the cabin, sticking out, as if waving at us, "help, get me out of here!"

Luckily, there were two tools on the kitchen counter; a hammer, and a wrench. My Honey got started with the hammer, and began pecking away at the frozen tundra, to rescue the shovel.

I journey back to the stairs, with the wrench, and tried to make some headway on the mountainous snow piles. We would not be able to get the kids up to the cabin without first clearing the stairs. My Honey and I barely made it up to the cabin ourselves, and it would be unsafe to attempt to bring the kids up and over that ice.

As Im chipping away at the stairs, the kids and the car in my sights, I holler out to them often, "This is it guys, mountain living, isnt it fun?!!" I would say with a chuckle and a smile. I was still delusional about getting this all cleared out and continuing on with our vacation.

We had arrived at the cabin around noon. We were hungry, but had planned to bring in our bags (and start the heater) before venturing back out to eat. We figured that after lunch, we could enjoy some snow play, and then head over to the supermarket to buy some food, paper products and firewood. We wanted to be back to the cabin to cook dinner before darkness set in, as the cabin would be tough to find in the dark, as we were not acquainted with the neighborhood.

Noon soon turned to 1, and 2:00pm was fast approaching. I had cleared a few steps, and My Honey finally got the shovel from beneath the snow.

It took him an hour just to get the shovel. That's when we realized that this project was a lot harder than it looked!

We assessed the situation, and decided that it would be impossible to clear the driveway. The stairs were a must, as we couldnt get the kids into the cabin without some clearance on the stairs.

While I had cleared a few stairs, there were still over 20 to go. My Honey decided that he would clear just a 1' foot path on the stairs, just enough to walk up. To try and do anymore would be a waste of time, as it was, we would be lucky to get the task done before it got dark. Here he is, working away, this picture was taken when he was almost done.



He did it all with the hammer, as the snow shovel was made of plastic, and was completely worthless on the hardened ice. Everytime we tried, at best, the shovel would bend, it was impossible to use it to clear anything. Here is another photo after My Honey had cleared our path.




The kids were still in the car, whining occasionally, but generally being pretty good. Now that I think about it, their best behavior of the whole trip might have been when they were in the car...hmmm.....something to note for the future!

While My Honey chipped away at the icey mounds on the stairs, I went and got the kids into their snow clothes, so that they could play in the "front yard" while daddy worked.

Yessirree...this was mountain living, sledding in the snow while daddy worked on the yard....just normal mountain living, and boy was it fun!

Winter Wonderland, Part 1

Things around our house can get kind of hectic. Hectic in the sense that we sometimes want to strangle each other, or we threaten to trade people to other families, not really, well, ok, really, but, not because we dont love each other, just because we need a vacation.

One day, a few weeks ago, we were all sitting around trying to think of our last vacation, and we came up with Andrew's "Make a Wish" trip to Florida to see Spider Man. That was November of 2005, and while it was a wonderful trip in many ways, it was also hectic. Without going into all of the details, the journey there took 17 hours and 2 plane changes....and that about sets the mood.....

So, a few weeks ago, I decided to take a hallucinegic drug, er, I mean, use my imagination, and pretend that our wealthy Aunt Julianne bought us a tropical vacation on the Home Shopping Club. Im not sure if they sell trips on the HSN, but, it was a dream....

I then went online, and browsed all of the vacations that I would like to take....The Beaches Resort, with Sesame Street characters in the Bahamas was my trip of choice, but since Aunt Julianne is on restriction from making purchases from the TV, I decided to look into some get-away ideas at a more reasonable rate.

I remembered President's Day 1998, when My Honey and I went skiing in Durango, CO. It was an amazing trip (also the trip where the kids we chaperoned smuggled in drugs, and we had to call the cops, and the other chaperones called the cops back and told them not to come....which is another saga all-together....) But, I remember the snow, and how fun that was.

Then, I remembered when we took Pooper and Beauty up to the snow for a day, a few years ago, and how much fun that was.

Then, I considered that the kids had a 4 day weekend for the Presidents Day holiday, there was snow on our local mountains, the weather forecast was for mild temperatures....local+snow+mild forecast=perfect opportunity for a trip to the snow.

Perusing cabin rentals online, I found one that looked perfect, and inexpensive...it was also the only thing available, as everything was booked....which made it worth looking into.

Super long story short, we rented the cabin for 2 nights, and made plans to go on a road trip.

The kids were so excited. I went to the local second-hand-kids-clothes-store and got some snow pants and boots, and we were good to go.

Once packed, we were on the road.

We journeyed 90 miles over the next 2 hours. The second half of the trip was mostly winding, mountain roads.

We listened to The Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, and eventually, the "Freedom Rock" CD made it's way into the car stereo.

I dont know where I got this CD, most likely it was a bonus when I joined the, "Sounds of the 70's" CD club back in the 90's. It was full of peace-loving songs, and the kids just loved it.

Pooper's favorite, was, The Night They Drove Ole Dixie Down. We played it about 10 ten times, with me stopping the song periodically to explain that it was "folk music" and give accounting to him of the meaning and history of the song.

Beauty's favorite was, One Tin Soldier. Again, I stopped the song often so that the kids were clear about the "treasure" that was buried on the hill, and how it was really just a loving message of "peace on earth" and how the greedy people of the Valley wanted something that wasnt theirs, and killed people because their materialism overtook them and caused them to value riches more than people. Ok, maybe a bit too deep for Beauty, but an important lesson, none the less.

And, both kids got a kick out of, "War, HUH, What is it good for?"......although Doug and I were sure to point out, that while the man said, "absolutely nothing".....we were able to live in a country that was free, safe and full of hope, because soldiers were protecting that freedom for us!

So, as you can see, the ride up was rich in culture, thanks to our "folk music" lessons.

As we made our way through the snowy, forest, Pooper's car sickness got the best of him. We were close to the cabin, and were anxious to get the kids inside, especially Pooper, so that he could throw-up in a real toilet, rather than a fast food bag.

Unfortunately, when we arrived, we saw this.




That's right, that's a cabin, with the drive way covered in snow. And the stairs that go up two flights to the front door, are also packed in with a good 2+ feet of icey, snow. (at the time I took this, My Honey had already cleared some of the stairs at the top, but trust me, when we pulled in, the stairs were covered, and My Honey and I had to climb through it to get inside the cabin.)

Stay tuned for the further adventures of our Winter Wonderland.....

Greetings from Antarctica

Ill write more later, oh boy will I write more later.......but in the meantime, I really need you to take my newests poll...it will help me determine if my brain is freezing.

Times they are a changin'

Valentine's Day #1

My Honey and I had just started dating, after many months of friendship. He had recently moved to Arizona, and I was still settled in Southern California. I became a regular on the Southwest flight from John Wayne to Phoenix, the first time being for Valentines Day, 1997.

I was greeted with roses, a gift bag full of lotions and sprays in my favorite fragrance; Sun-ripened Rasberry.

My Honey and I left the airport and headed to a wine shop, for a night of wine tasting. It seemed very fancy, and although I dont drink, I was looking forward to the event. You see, we wouldnt actually be drinking, we would be "tasting."

Little did I know, that "tasting" 16 different 1/2 glass of wine, is the same as DRINKING 8 glass of wine. Which is the same as being super drunk!

I thought I was so cute in my size 4, Ann Taylor skort and brown clogs. I tried to act refined and SOBER while we were at the shop, so as not to let My Honey know that I couldnt handle "tastings." Although, Im pretty sure he got the message on the way home, when we spotted a car accident on the side of the road. I opened up the car door, wanting to get out and help, however, the fact that our car was driving past the scene (and not stopping) caused My Honey to reach over, pull me inside, shut the door, and realize that he had a completely bombed date.

Whatever plans he had after that, I dont remember, because instead he stopped at the first Chinese restaurant for take out, so as to get some food in my stomach....my empty stomach that hadnt eaten since before my flight.

Im pretty sure I passed out after I shovelled a carton of Orange Peel Chicken into my face. How romantic.

Valentines Day #12

Little One was screaming and crying, wanting to be held, as I helped Beauty out of her swimsuit. Pooper was still in the pool, finishing up his last 100 yards of freestyle. Through the chaos it hit me, "Oh no, I dont have anything to make for dinner, and it's Valentine's Day!"

I managed to get Beauty into some borrowed sweats, since I forgot her clothes, and Little One settled into my lap, with a free hand, I grabbed my cell phone to call My Honey.

"What should we do for dinner?" I asked

"I was thinking we could go to some place that doesnt take reservations. If we get there early, we can beat the crowd" He assured me.

"Sounds good. Pooper will be done at 5:15, and we will leave as soon as I can get him changed into some dry clothes." I said, feeling good that we had a plan.

Unfortunately, My Honey arrived at the restaurant at 5:30, only to find out they had a 2 hour wait. We figured that any other place would be the same, and decided on meeting at our favorite taco joint.

Albertacos. It's cheap, greasy, authentic, delicious, and the most unromantic joint in town.

By 6pm, we were gathered around our table, enjoying the guacamole, and commenting on how the busy hole-in-the-wall was empty because everyone else was waiting 2 hours for their dinner.

By 7pm we were home, and by 7:15 I was fishing poop out of the bathtub.

While I doubt that 12 years ago I could ever have imagined spending Cupid's holiday this way, I have to say, that in many ways, this Valentine's Day was just as romantic as the first, maybe even more so.

How did you spend your Valentine's Day?

Bossy, please dont be afraid!

I dont want to scare any of you, especially Bossy , because I am (hopefully) on her corporately sponsored, "Bossy's Exellent Road Trip", but California is a hot bed of earthquakes.

The other night, while doing my "night owl" routine of catching up on all the news-junkie-political-goings-on, I got a bit dizzy. It was as if I was swaying, ever so slightly. I quickly glanced at my glass of water, sitting on the desk, trying to catch any minor ripples or swishing, and there were none. But I didnt give up that easily, you see, I'm a native Californian, felt my first earthquake at the age of 5....

...it was February, 1971, and I was sleeping, dreaming of kindergarten, which I loved, or maybe dreaming of my new snow cone maker or Suzy bake oven, but undoubtedly dreaming of something when my mother came into my room, in the middle of the night's darkness, to wake me up. (now, wouldnt you just let your sleeping child sleep? but anyways....)

Grandma J: "We are having an earthquake!"

Me: still groggy, "No we arent"

GJ: insisting, "Yes we are!"

Me: "I dont feel anything."

GJ: "Look, the lamp is moving" with her hand, suspiciously close to the fancy 1970's lamp, dangling from the ceiling by a clunky chain, at which she was pointing.

Me: "You pushed the lamp."

GJ: "Ok, wait til tomorrow, you'll see."

And that was my recollection of the 6.7 Sylmar quake.


but, back to the other night....I knew that dizzy sensation, it had a rolling effect, the same feeling that you get when you are a adrift in a boat on a quiet lake.

So, fingertips already on the keyboard, I clicked over to the US Geological website to check out our earthquake map, to see if there had been any slight tremblers.

Lo and behold, there had just been a decent sized (5.4 on the Richter scale) shaker near the California-Mexico (wide open come cross me!) border.

The really fun thing about the website, is you can submit your own experience...did you feel it? was there damage? etc.....all of which you rate on a scale. Soon, you can see who felt it, via maps or zip codes...and how strong it was across the area. I was suprised to see that even though we are 250 miles away, at that late hour, in my little zip code, 6 other people had reported feeling the effects. Kind of cool in a "surfing the web" kinda way.

As I was clicking through the website that night, suddenly, but unfelt by me, a second earthquake was recorded at same site!! When I woke up in the morning I checked again, and there had been several more.

That was a few days ago, and just look what the map looks like now

I told my honey, "If I were a betting wife, and just be lucky Im not, Id put some big dollars on a big quake around this part of the globe, and soon!"

And then, this morning, I saw that further south in Mexico there was a big quake. Glad the continent shifted to the south and not the north....but by the looks of the map, things have not yet settled down.

I dont want any of you to go and get worried....we get quakes here, and almost always they are harmless. It's not half as scary as living along the south-eastern shores, that get hurricanes cruising through each year....or the tornadoes or ice storms, or even snow storms that cause destruction across the rest of the country. No, our quakes are not too bad, and considering we get to live in near-perfect weather conditions, year round, (a balmy mid 70's) today...it's not a bad deal.

But, I did just want to throw it out there, sort of as a pre-"I told you so" sort of way...that we may be getting ready for a bit of a shake up around these parts.