The Sunday Funnies

Last night, DH took Savvy to the first REAL soccer game of the season. REAL was playing against the Chicago Fire. Chicago has a famous soccer player (Blanco) from Mexico who plays for them. DH said there were quite a few fans wearing Mexico jerseys cheering quite loudly everytime Blanco got the ball.

On the flipside, anytime Blanco made a mistake (which wasn't that often), REAL fans would start chanting "ov-er-rat-ed! ov-er-rat-ed!" At some point during the chanting of "overrated" -- Savvy said to DH, "Why are they yelling 'Opr-ah Win-frey'?"

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This morning, I reminded the kids it was fast Sunday. Jay proceeded to disagree with me - after all it's not the first Sunday of the month. Aussie intervened, "It really is fast Sunday because next week is the Jelly Bean Council." We all looked puzzled. "You know, next week we get to play bingo with jelly beans?" he said.

Then we figured it out: Jelly Bean Council=General Conference.

It's just so nice to see that raising our children righteously in the gospel is really (ahem) paying off.

Note to self: Monday's FHE: The importance of Jelly Bean Council...errr...General Conference.

Sally, Sweet Sally, Where Art Thou?

This past winter, my dad knitted Savvy a warm and wooly hat. She loved it so much that she wanted to wear it everywhere. Unfortunately, the hat was a multicolored maroon, forest green and white - so it didn't match a lot of things. Plus - it was a little large on her head. Apparently, she chose the biggest hat rather than the one that fit her head. Savvy wore it so often that I begged her to stop the insanity. When she asked why - I finally told her it was because she looked like a thug. I mean she really did. We then started calling it her "thug" hat. Once Grandpa realized that the kid wore his thug creation everywhere, he accepted my petition for a new hat with a more neutral color scheme. He chose a nice navy blue and gave it to her over the Christmas break. He made it in just her size and she was thrilled beyond belief. She even went as far as to name her hat "Sally". A big improvement over thug. Sally became a member of our family - almost to the point of embarrassment. There were only three places she wasn't allowed to wear her hat - one was to church, the second to bed, and third was to school. If I had known how often Sally was going to invade family parties, Christmas morning, shopping, going with friends, hanging out inside the house, etc. - I'm sure I would've put even more limitations on her hat wearing. Unfortunately, no one could've guessed the love that Savvy would have for Sally.

Obviously, I didn't have a great love for Sally. But DH absolutely HATED the hat! Everytime he came home from work he'd comment - I haven't seen the top of your head in months. He'd even take it away from her to let her "head breathe". He tried everything to have her give Sally a rest. Sally became her security blanket - and Savvy refused to go anywhere without it. Savvy wore it so much that it started to get all balled up and nappy.

As the days got warmer, DH and I reminded Savvy that Sally would have to go into retirement for the spring/summer/fall months. We set a Sally Moratorium date of March 20th (the first day of Spring Break). Secretly, DH and I would rub our hands together in glee as we thought of Sally's last day on this earth--because we both knew that Sally would not be returning for another winter in our household. We had decided that Sally would ride with us to AZ to visit friends. On the long car ride, Sally would need some air. As DH gave Sally air outside the window - he would "accidentally" let go - and Sally would spend the rest of her days keeping a cactus warm on those cold desert nights.

Spring Break was only a week away, when Savvy brought to light some horrible news. She had LOST Sally at the swimming pool. "Oh cruel, cruel, world!" she dramatically cried. "Why couldn't you wait a few more days? I didn't even get to say goodbye!"

"TGIG!" (thank goodness it's gone) DH and I secretly whispered.

It's possible that Grandpa might make Savvy a new winter hat for next year - maybe he'll even make 7 or 8 hats for her in shades of light pink, sage green, pale yellow, light blue, navy blue, white, & cream (hint hint) - but Sally will always have a warm (albeit somewhat uncomfortable) spot in our hearts forever.

How Great I Art

I was just reading my good friend Jolene's blog and it triggered a memory in me that I had long forgotten. Considering the ranking hullaballoo I've been put through by DH - it kinda warmed my heart.

Jo talks about the memories she found in an old box of cassette tapes hidden deep in the recesses of her junk room. Her story reminded me of the most memorable cassette tape I ever received from a missionary. "Jack" was just a friend from high school. But at some point during his mission--he decided we were more than friends. (I guess 2 years away can really mess with a guy's mind--plus I have to admit--I am a pretty lovable girl).

Anyway, Jack made me an hour long tape where he talked to me about his mission and such. At the end of his tape he said, "Nicole, I am going to sing you a song that reminds me of you on a daily basis." He preceded to sing, "How Great Thou Art".

Cheesy? Yes.

Sacriligious? Of course.

The look on the face of my hubby if I had saved it and played it after receiving a "7" on my chicken parmesan? Priceless.

The Rating Game

My DH has the toughest rating system this side of Russia. My husband is a frequent subscriber to the scale of 1 - 10, 10 being the highest ranking system. He has used it regularly in our 14 years of marriage. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the highest - how would you rank that dinner, baseball game, movie, car, date, trip, job, kid, marriage--you name it and my DH has probably ranked it somewhere between 1 and 10.

The good part of DH's rating system is you always know where you stand in every aspect of life. The bad part of his rating system is he is one tough rater! Once, I made his most favorite meal of chicken and rice--he ooohed and awed at the famousness of how great it tasted. So, I asked him, "DH on a scale of 1-10 what would you give my chicken and rice?"

"Man, this is so good - it's at least a 7," he replied.

"A seven? A seven?" I shrieked. "That's a C = are you telling me my chicken and rice is average?"

He ended up giving it a high 8 (still offensive I know - but at least I wasn't average anymore).

He's given vacations a 7--that I thought were an absolutely fabulous 10. Musical numbers in church? He's yet to hear a song worthy of a 10 (and I'm singing in half of them so it's extra insulting). My blog? a 7 (which will surely be changed to a 5 if he reads this hehe). His favorite TV show is Heroes - and he LOVES the dang show - his rating for it? An 8. Well - it is a high 8 of course.

I'll admit, for a while, it was a competition for me. I wanted a ten! I'd take it anyway I could get it. I'd cook my best chicken enchiladas ever - 7. His favorite Taco Soup - 8. French Toast Souffle? 7.5. Lasagna-7. You name it - I cooked it and he ranked it as a 7 or 8. This was after he would rave at the delectability of it.

Finally, the day came when I realized I wouldn't be receiving a 10. EVER.

Picture it: A cool November evening in countrified Idaho. His mother had just put the final touches on a meal divine. A meal that I had tried to duplicate to my best ability (receiving his highest mark of an 8). It was DH's favorite: Chicken Parmesan.

He took 2 bites. Oohed and aahhed. And said, "Mom! This is so good. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the highest--I give it a......10."

It was a sad day really. A day when I discovered that the scale I was being rated against, was weighted heavily against his mothers cooking. It was on that day that I gave up trying to please his impossible scale. It's just too tough. I can't beat it. I've accepted it and moved on. (Okay-so maybe I haven't moved on quite yet. Secretly, what I want is your surefire recipe that would knock the socks off of DH and earn me a 10 on his tough scale.)

Retraction? I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that last night after dinner (sloppy joes)--I totally tried to set my DH up when I asked, "So how would you rank this dinner on a scale of 1-10." He said, "This was so good - I'd give it a 10." Of course, he denied having previously read my blog - but I secretly think he did and he was trying to make me feel guilty - which it did.

A Smelly Issue

On our last night of vacation, the greasy, fast food finally caught up to Aussie. It manifested itself in a smelly way. The kid had gas - and I mean bad. Nobody wanted to sleep with him--even his own mother banished him to the other side of our small hotel room. Of course, it turned into a game for him. His goal: to offend his sisters with his smelly smell of a smell (which did I mention was smelly?). Everytime he passed the lethal gas - Aussie would yell - "I must use my powers for truth and justice! mwahahaha!" His sisters were not amused.

Today, on the way home from swim team practice, Aussie again was plagued with poor nutritional (i.e. bad diet) gas.
Savvy said, "Mom - Aussie is so disgusting. He farts, he burps, he has bad breath -- he should be sent to juvie!"
The all knowing big sister, Jay remarked, "Juvie is for kids who break the law - they steal, set schools on fire or try to kill their parents." (sheesh!)
Savvy responded, "Well, what about brothers who smell? That should totally be against the law!"

The Sunday Funnies

We just spent a fun Spring Break in the Valley of the Sun. On the way to AZ, we passed an exit sign that said, "Zions Nat'l Park". Savvy asked, "Does that mean there's a Zion's Bank down that road?"

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Speaking of Spring Break...over the weekend, Savvy proudly told a joke to anyone who would listen--and I mean anyone. Even though it did get painfully old (after the 20th time of hearing it), I thought it would be appropriate to share today. My apologies.

Savvy: Knock Knock.
Mom: Who's there?
Savvy: Easter
Mom: Easter Who?
Savvy: Easter Bunny

Savvy: Knock Knock.
Mom: Who's there?
Savvy: Ana
Mom: Ana Who?
Savvy: An-another Easter Bunny

Savvy: Knock Knock.
Mom: Who's there?
Savvy: Yeta
Mom: Yeta Who?
Savvy: Yet-another Easter Bunny

Savvy: Knock Knock.
Mom: Who's there?
Savvy: Easter
Mom: Easter Who?
Savvy: Easter's over, Easter Bunny go home.

Savvy: Knock Knock.
Mom: Who's there?
Savvy: Boo
Mom: Boo Who?
Savvy: Oh - don't cry! Easter Bunny will be back next year.

The Name Game

I went to our RS Lunch Bunch today and visited with a fun group of girls. One of the girls (Misty) is pregnant and having a boy in June - so the topic of baby names came up. Misty told us her top boy names - her number one name was Colton (which I think is so cute).

Anyway, Misty said how she would never name any of her kids with a name ending in "Y" because it just isn't a name that a child can grow up with & sound smart. She referred to herself and said that when you think of "Misty" you don't think of a smart adult - you think of a ditzy, nice, fun, cute cheerleader. So, Misty's ultimate goal in naming babies is to give them a "smart" name that works with both a babe, toddler and adult.

Another girl commented that her friend had wanted to name her baby boy with a "strong" name - and named him "Steel". She said how it was almost awkward to hold this sweet smelling baby in her arms and call him a piece of metal.

Generally, I try not to pass judgement on a name (at least until I get to know the person)--but I have known children named Talon, Storm, Jaggar & Autumn who have lived up to my every expectation. One of Jay's swim coaches is named Thor. When she first started talking about him - I'll admit I had a Nordic superhero pictured in my head. When I saw him, I was a little surprised--he looks like one of my brothers--about 5'9, dark hair--no superhero tendancies.

Until I was fourteen, I was known as Nicki. Then we moved to a new town and I went with my given name Nicole. I still have a few family members who call me Nicki - and it's very nostalgic to me--I like it. But, if you were to ask me the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear the name Nicki? I'll be honest - I'd say a stripper (not sure why - since I never entertained the idea of that profession-I promise!). I still like being called Nicki - but I'd never request "Post-Nicki" friends to call me that (unless I was entering a mid-life crisis and headed to Vegas--but that's a whole nother post folks).

After lunch bunch, Misty sent me an email. She signed it jokingly as "Love, Happy-Go-Lucky, cute-fun, but not so smart, Misty". I emailed her back adding other nice adjectives that I think of when I think of her name. But, it made me curious as to what she thought of when she hears the name "Nicole." So, I asked her. I gave her the whole Nicki to Nicole theory and this is what she emailed back.

Misty said, "Nicole is the perfect name!! I love it when you can have a kid name and then it works for (Nicki to Nicole) a grown up name!! Although Nicole does remind me of my cute friend who I used to get into a little too much trouble with--the kind that could talk her way out of any ticket...but when I think of Nicole I think of YOU--smart, talented, creative, but down to earth and a music record voice. So maybe people get more of the whole picture of me than I think. I do think I became my name a little though--chicken or the egg? Who knows."

Maybe Misty should add "extra humble and modest" to my name - since I'm posting her kind comments about me on my own blog (I did email her back and told her to add "kind and generous" to her Misty moniker). But, I LOVE what she said about how she "became her name". I think it's true. We are all given a name as babies - and as we grow up we can choose whether we are going to create good impressions or bad ones--our actions determine what others are going to think of us and our names.

As we were choosing names for our kids, it involved a lot of research, lists and discussions. There were names that I loved that my DH hated because it reminded him of somebody he couldn't stand and vice versa. I don't have any regrets with what named our kids-so I guess we did a good job (I suppose we'll find out later how well we did when one of them changes their name to Calliope or something). When I was JR. High age, I kept a journal -- filled with silliness about who I was going to marry and what I was going to name my kids. Scarlett ranked at the top of that list - my oldest can be grateful she dodged that bullet.

So, loyal readers - how do you feel about your name? Do you like it? What guidelines have you used in naming your own children? Inquiring minds want to know.