My Sabbath Day

Yesterday, just after Sunday dinner, our doorbell rang. I answered it. A rough teenage girl, barefoot and in her pajamas - with many piercings in her face - stood on my front porch. She said she was new to the area - had just moved here - and she was lost and wondered if she could use my phone. Hoping she wasn't here to case the joint, I said sure - and sent one of the kids to get it for her.

She called her friend asking him if he could come and pick her up. Then she said to me - "I don't know where I am - what's the address over here?" I told her the main crossroads of my neighborhood. She told the boy over the phone where she was and then hung up, said thanks and left. I shut the door and didn't pay attention to where she went - I just assumed she'd head over to the main crossroad and wait.

About five minutes later, my phone rang. It was a cell phone number I didn't recognize, but I figured it was the boy looking for the teenage girl so I answered it. I was right - he asked for "Taylor". I told them that she had left to where I assumed she told them to meet her. He told me she hadn't specified a meeting place and that they were lost and asked for further instructions. I gave them better directions and hung up.

Within a few minutes, they called again. They were in front of my house and still couldn't find "Taylor". Man - I was hoping I wasn't in for a home invasion because these kids were rough characters too. They were in a beat up old SUV - but they seemed truly concerned about Taylor. I went out onto my front porch and talked to them - telling them maybe she went out the other side of the subdivision. It really was a puzzle. They took off in the direction I told them - and I never heard back from them.

I just dropped my kids off at school, and was reminded of "Taylor" and her plight as I turned into my subdivison. It's pretty cold outside - I hope they found her. I have the boy's cell phone number - so I could call - but I won't. I'm just curious - and I'll admit a little worried about this girl without shoes.

Thinking about Taylor this morning, makes me wish I would've done more. Or at least offered her some socks. It was around 5 in the evening - probably about 40 degrees outside - and she had no shoes and a light jacket on. Underneath her gothic makeup and piercings, she seemed nervous. Was she on drugs? A runaway? What kind of trouble was she in? Why did she choose my house? It wasn't like mine was the first house she came to in our subdvision. What was her story? Why do I care about someone I'll never see again?

I guess, I care because of my own future teenage daughters. I have good kids and I pray everyday that they will make good choices and be safe. But, if they are ever in a desparate situation -- I hope they will be able to find a mom who will help them, let them use her phone, and maybe offer them some socks.

Mediocrity at it's Finest

My mom asked me the other day if I liked my dermatologist. I told her he was okay but I wouldn't really recommend him to anyone. This concerned her. "Why are you going to someone you don't like?" she asked. I informed her I was too lazy to drive to a better doctor who was 20 minutes further away (this guy is already 15 minutes away). I also told her that I was fine with mediocre doctors as long as it wasn't for something major. I mean, how hard is it to shave off a mole? I think I could've done it myself - but I like the numbing medication too much.

So, this morning I had a dermatologist appointment for "nevus eradication" (the medical term sounds so much fancier than "mole removal"). The secretary from the office had left me a voicemail message two days ago reminding me of my 11:00 appointment - and informing me at the Dr's request to arrive 20 minutes before said appointment. At my last visit - I had waited 30 minutes in the waiting room and another 30 in the examining room - but I figured I'd better do what they said.

Upon my arrival at the office, (at 10:40 no less) I noticed a fairly crowded room. Being that he is the only Dr. in the office - I figured I would have quite the wait. Honestly, I really don't mind waiting for doctors -- as long as they have good magazines and I don't have any kids with me. But, I did wonder when the "prep work" I was there for would begin.

At about 1130, the nurse took me back into the Dr's examination room. She sat down to get my stats - and said "You are here for...You are here for..." She was scanning my file and couldn't find my purpose for the visit. I reminded her "nevus eradication" (well actually - I used the layman's term - but I'm trying to be famous right now). She continued to look and couldn't find it anywhere in my chart. She said finally found my info. But I think she was faking it because she felt so dumb. She looked positively puzzled.

She started to prepare the tray for "nevus eradication". Then she got this huge camera and said she needed to photograph said "nevus". At this point, she left the room. Out in the hall, I could hear her talking (those doctor office walls should be soundproofed). She said, "You know that lady who we have no idea why she's here? Well, she says it's for "nevus eradication" and I need to take pictures and I don't know what to take a picture of."

At this point, I started to reconsider my take on mediocrity. I mean, good grief - what if "nevus eradication" didn't mean mole removal? Admittedly, I was already nervous about getting shots in my eyebrow and forehead - and this chick definitely wasn't making it any better.

The mystery lady in the hall miraculously found the information in my large but concise three page file and showed it to the nurse. She came back in and sheepishly took her pictures. She had me sign some paperwork saying I wouldn't hold them accountable for stuff (I think mediocrity was on that list). Then the doc came in (at noon - for those of you keeping track) and I'm pretty sure he knew what he was doing - at least I hope he did.

Yes, the shot hurt. Yes, the nevus' have been eradicated. And No, I won't be going back to that joker. Maybe mediocrity is okay for some things - but I guess dermatologists aren't one of them.

Halloween, My So-Called Favorite Holiday

Call me a pagan - but Halloween has always been my favorite holiday of the year. Well, at least it used to be my favorite holiday -- until the pressure of the sewing of Halloween costumes overtook my sanity.

I will admit the hatred of costume making is largely due to my procrastination. My kids generally have their costumes picked out in the spring - I'm not kidding. I guess I've instilled in them such a great love for Halloween that the planning generally begins around Christmas time - with the final decision being made around Easter (if only I could instill such a strong love for housework or pulling weeds). So, if I were a smart one, I'd commence with the sewing around Memorial Day weekend. Surely, by doing this I'd have the time and energy to sew 3 costumes (minus the burning of the midnight oil).

When my kids were younger, my mother warned me against sewing costumes. She told me that as they got older - the costumes would get more difficult. I ignored her and had my fill of cute little panda bears, a mermaid, an elephant, rapunzel a flower, and a bee among others. Those were the days. And now my mother's prophecy is coming true. But truly, it's not the costume patterns that have gotten more difficult - it's just my kids are so much bigger - and it takes so much longer to make these larger costumes.

Last year, the twins were Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia. J was a spa girl - which involved only buying her a robe and green face cream - easy peasy! Of course, the week before Halloween, I spent many a late night getting those costumes finished. I even informed the kids that they would be being Luke and Leia this year (of course, in the Spring their request of being a ninja and a witch didn't seem like such a big deal).

This year, I actually bought the fabric and patterns in September. I was so proud of myself. Then my 12 yr old informed me she wanted to be a go-go girl. I tried to beg off on even making her a costume - I mean she's 12 for heaven's sake - but through the power of tears and "but you haven't made me a Halloween costume in 3 years - she won. Things would've still been okay if I would've started the sewing in September - but in mid-October, I had a craft night in my ward that involved me cutting out a bunch of wood - and stressing out over. So the fabric patiently waited in my craft room (the kids waited not so patiently).

With the craft night behind me, I finally felt like I could begin the sewing. I stayed up till midnite Monday night, 2 am Tuesday night. Went to Idaho for a funeral on Wednesday and returned home Thursday at 10 pm. Stayed up til 3 am Thursday night - so the ninja could be ready for fighting at the school Halloween party on Friday (might I also add that sewing costumes in the wee hours of the morning is not recommended - when Mr. Ninja tried on his costume on Friday morning - one sleeve was 4 inches longer than the other, the ties on the front of the costume didn't match up - and his pants ripped out about 2-3 inches in the side seam during recess). Luckily, the 2 witch capes I made (one for my niece and one for my daughter) - were much easier to handle - and so far nothing needs fixing for the witchy poos.

That leaves me with today. Tonight is the trunk-or-treat - and I still have 2 yards of hot pink vinyl calling my name. And yet - here I sit, blogging, procrastinating the day of my repentance - and still planning on cleaning my house before I begin the making of the costume. When will I learn my lesson? Maybe next year. As for now, maybe I'll change my favorite holiday to a low-key one like Veteran's Day or Labor Day (at least until my kids are out of the making of the Halloween costume phase).

Inspired by a Baby

Picking a shenanigan to blog about is usually not a struggle - considering the many I'm faced with on a day to day basis (and sometimes minute to minute). But, today it is difficult for me to focus on the fluff in my life - when my heart is breaking for my dear cousin's recent loss of her baby.

In June, I blogged about what a great example my cousin and her husband had been to our family. Over the past four months - with their newborn baby in the PICU- they have continued to inspire us on a daily basis. They have been truly amazing in their faith and devotion their darling baby, Luke.

Being a part of Luke's life has strengthened my testimony so much - it's amazing what power a sweet little baby can inspire. Before Luke was even born - his life looked bleak. The dr's knew from ultrasounds that he was suffering from a chromosome deletion - and that there most definitely would be heart problems - but that there also could be a myriad of issues. Many prayers were offered in his behalf. He was born in June - a robust little cutie - the biggest and healthiest looking baby in the NICU. And he proved to me what a little faith and prayer can do.

Although he was born with some major heart issues - he survived his heart surgery like a champ. Then came the ups and downs throughout his recovery. He'd have a good week only to have a bad week. On life support one week, and then on mild oxygen the next. Again, many prayers of faith were offered for Luke. And again he proved to me what a little faith and prayer can do.

In September, we almost lost him. The dr's thought he wouldn't make it through the night. Many, many prayers of faith were offered - he was spared. And again he proved to me what a little faith and prayer can do.

Luke was progressing with such leaps and bounds that there was serious talk of moving him out of the ICU this past week -- truly a miracle. They put that on hold due to a fever. Prayers of faith again were offered for him. On Friday, his mama got to feed him a bottle for the first time. And again he proved to me what a little faith and prayer can do.

Saturday, Luke went into cardiac arrest. Prayers of faith were offered on his behalf from many. But this time we had follow the will of the Lord - and know that Luke's completed his job here on earth. He's perfect. He's living with Heavenly Father. And he's happy! I have faith that our prayers will bring comfort to Luke's family at this time - and once again Luke is proving to us what a little faith and prayer can do. He has blessed our lives and we will never forget him.

Top 10 Ways You know you're Addicted to Diet Coke...

10. You don't like to water your Diet Coke down with ice - you need it full strength baby.

9. You're out of Diet Coke in both fridges and you frantically begin searching the house for unopened, warm DC cans (finding one in the basement in the craft room -- in this case of desperation, you are willing to water it down with some ice cubes).

8. If you committed a crime that required capital punishment - you're last request would be a Diet Coke.

7. The last Diet Coke standing in your fridge is in a dented, beat up can (it was dropped accidentally a couple of weeks ago). You were hoping DH would drink it - and he hoped you would. Out of desperation you open the can - only you have to use a sharp object to pierce the bulging top. Now you keep spilling DC on your shirt - because of the bulge & dents in the top of the can.

6. Diet Coke encompasses the bulk of your food storage.

5. When your visiting teachers drop by a treat for the month, it's a 20 oz bottle of Diet Coke.

4. On those quick trips to the grocery store when you just need the necessities - you grab: milk, bread, eggs and Diet Coke.

3. Most people use an outside fridge to store a surplus of groceries - every shelf on yours has a case of Diet Coke on it.

2. The due date on your Diet Coke supply never stands a chance in expiring.

1. On those Diet Coke sales when they have it five 12 packs for 10 dollars - with a limit of 5. You've been known to go in and take advantage of the deal 3 or 4 times in the same day.

0. You actually could've filled a "Top fifty list of ways you know you're addicted to Diet Coke."

Birthday Party Memo to Self...

When planning a birthday party for twin 9 year olds:
Remember to do it on two separate days (a year from now I'm sure I will have forgotten this tidbit). But try to remember that 9 year old girls and boys may be different sexes but the one thing they have in common is they are NOISY! WILD! and RAMBUNCTIOUS! each in their own special way.

When planning a birthday party for twin 9 year olds:
Don't assume that everyone will want to just skate at the roller rink - budget in the bounce zone.

When planning a birthday party for twin 9 year olds:
When one of the boys goes missing (for 10 or 15 minutes) don't freak out and think he's been kidnapped by one of those hoodlum jr high kids. Realize that after pizza, cupcakes and a capri sun - he's probably in the bathroom taking care of some unfinished business.

Nicole, after racing around the skate rink - freaking out about losing her neighbor boy says: "Isaac - have you seen Adam anywhere?"

Isaac: "He's been pooping for like 20 minutes!"

When planning a birthday party for twin 9 year olds:

Remember that treat bags are a necessity. Put it at the top of your list - or be prepared for mutiny - forgetting is not an acceptable excuse.

Finally, when planning a birthday party for twin 9 year olds:
Make sure you have plenty of diet coke & a secret migraine combination of drugs.

You Have Now Entered The Sonic Zone...

Since the invention of Happy Hour & 99 cent coupons, I have been a loyal customer at Sonic. When I lived in AZ the workers at Sonic knew my van, my order and whether or not I was still in my pajamas. Since Sonic was near my kids' school and I had to drive them every day, it was sometimes a twice a day visit.

When I moved to Utah, our new Sonic had Happy Hour in the morning from 6-11 am (they've sinced done away with that) and in the afternoon from 2-5. I'd have one on the way home from the gym everyday - and sometimes in the afternoon whilst I ran my errands. The turnover of employees at this Sonic is high - so I didn't get to know any of the workers as personally as I had in AZ - but I still had my favorites. The boy with the pierced chin really knew how to make a good Diet Coke with lime. The girl from Brazil had such a cute accent, was always quick, and sometimes gave me an extra lemon wedge.

My experiences and memories of Sonic have been good ones. I mean, what's not to like about a place that will give you your lifeline at half price? Now let's fast forward all those hopes and dreams to my last visit at Sonic. My sister and I had just had a long, tiresome day of shopping. We were thirsty, hungry and we had coupons. It was 1:50 - 10 minutes before Happy Hour - but we were so ready for a big drink, a shake, and a 99 cent onion ring - that we were willing to sacrifice our coupons.

We got in line at the drive thru where a man in a red truck was waiting to place his order. He gave the girl his order and the preceded to sit there and wait. We didn't know what to think - was this man not aware of the drive-thru pick-up window concept? We sat their until 1:59 - at which point my sister drove into one of the ordering stalls. We placed our order (and yay we got the happy hour deal).

We waited and waited and waited -- a couple of times employees with orders on their trays would come up and ask us if it was our order. We saw one girl going from car to car trying to figure out where her tray went. Pretty soon we saw the manager of Sonic - helping with the delivery of food - he didn't have skates on but boy could he run fast. Sonic was packed - there computers were apparently down - and angry caffeine deprived women were getting ready to charge the building. Oh - and the guy in the red truck was still sitting in the same spot. It was like we had entered the Twilight Zone.

Finally at about 215, we see the guy with our order coming our way. This kid had on roller skates and he was hauling so fast - that my sister and I looked at each other and said "man- he's fast". Just as we were looking back at him in our amazement of his skating skills - he biffs it. I mean he went down hard - tray and all. It was like slow motion - he went down and slid right into my sisters van (we checked for dents later). He jumped up as quickly as he could - and we asked him if he was okay. He was mortified - we were mortified - (and trying really hard not to laugh).

Somehow during the melee -- he had managed to hold the tray above his head - and so only the drinks were ruined (the shakes were a little messy too). He handed us our sack of greasy mozzarella sticks and onion rings and headed back in to fix our drinks. As he skated away - my sister noticed his brake mark from his skates on the ground. There was a black streak on the ground about 2 feet long. We started laughing so hard we couldn't stop - and of course we didn't him to see us laughing at him so we really tried to get it under control.

When he came back with our food, we very politely took it and didn't giggle once. He skated away and Jill took a spoonful of her chocolate malt and started to laugh. Apparently they hadn't made up new shakes for us - they just wiped the spilled ice cream off the side - so Jill's chocolate malt had reeses peanut butter blast in it. It was so retro! It reminded me of the old reeses peanut butter cup commercial - hey you got peanut butter in my chocolate!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qSd70jkrQg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGsWqGX6bvA

Oh - and to top it all off - the guy in the red truck had finally moved forward - and was STILL waiting for his order.