Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my two true loves and me went to the Marketplace and saw the Big Tree.

It was a beautiful night so we took the Jeep. We didn't even really need our jackets. Last year it was rainy and cold. It actually felt like winter. This year it was warm, warm, warm. (I like to be warm. Even in December. Or maybe especially in December.)

The Big Tree

Big Ornaments and a Big Smile by the Big Tree

Nicco told the Big Man he wants koo-koo birds for Christmas. I think that is his default request. He gets shy and nervous around Santa. (Koo-Koo Birds are no longer a Thing...I searched and searched and found the last few in existence. I hope he finds a new default next year!)

On the second day of Christmas, I took my little boy to the Oro Valley Holiday Parade. We were late-ish. There was no place to park. I drove around the Town Center parking lot, watching all the other cars leaving because there was no space. I kept going. I saw a row of about 5 empty spots. I assumed they were handicapped but as I drove past as I turned around to leave, I realized they were electric car charging stations. I parked. Nicco asked if I would go to jail. I said no. He asked if I would get in trouble. I said no. He asked what would happen to me. I said the worst thing that can happen is that I will get a ticket that I won't pay. I didn't get a ticket.

This is what happens to Snow Men in Arizona.

We saw Nicco's little friend Elizabeth. She marched in the parade with the Girl Scouts. It was a fun surprise!

I think the Ironwood Ridge Wrestling team must have won a championship or something. Or they lost something. Like a bet. That's why they marched in their singlets.

I thought of my wrestling nephew when the wrestlers marched past, and I thought of his little sister when these girls in large, poofy, fluffy, sparkly tutus marched. The Tutu Garden. Where beautiful tutus bloom. Funny. And girly. Waverly would have loved it, I think.

Santa's keeping his eyes on the Oro Valley kids...he's been spotted all over the place!

On the third day of Christmas, we went for another evening Jeep ride. This time, through the Painted Sky neighborhood. We missed the Night of Lights so we did our own. No crowds! Yippee!

I was fiddling with the camera in the dark and somehow switched from the screen to the viewfinder so I couldn't see what I was taking a picture of. Ha ha.

A lit up fancy house!

On the fourth day of Christmas, we went to Nicco's First Grade Music Performance. While we waited, Patrice mentioned how he just wasn't feeling the Christmas spirit yet. I was feeling the same way, but when those Littles got up and started singing and dancing, my heart grew three sizes! I may have even cried a little.

Nicco and his sweet teacher, Mrs. G. He told me the other day that he doesn't really want to go to second grade, he just wants to stay in Mrs. G.'s class. Funny, he said the same thing last year about Mrs. Cornwell!

On the fifth day of Christmas Nicco said to me, "Let's make a craft! I have an idea. We can find paper and a tube and scissors and glue and we can make a tree." And that's what we did.

We also sipped hot cocoa. The weather went from very warm to very cold in one day.

On the sixth day of Christmas, we had a friendly get-together at our house. The Daddy got us a fire bowl. Hooray! Nicco has been absolutely DYING to have a fire. After dinner and before dessert, The Daddy lit a fire and Nicco snuggled up.

It was a cold winter's night...he buried himself in his blanket, but he still wanted to feel the fire.

On the seventh day of Christmas, I bought hot cocoa from Starbucks to give to the crossing guard. I think he was surprised. It made me happy.

On the eighth (how do you spell that???) day of Christmas, I was targeted at Target. I was just wandering the aisles looking for some comfy pants for my boy and a lady approached me and said, "I'm practicing random acts of kindness. May I give this to you?" I cried a little. I'm so worn out from negativity and arguing and bitterness and sadness and evil. I told her how happy I was to see her spreading sunshine.

When she walked away, I opened the card she handed me. It was a $10 gift card inside a note that said, "To honor the lives we lost at Sandy Hook I am doing 26 acts of kindness. This is my 4th. In honor of Jack Pinto, age 6. God Bless You!" Then I cried a lot.

On the ninth day of Christmas, I realized that if you procrastinate long enough, you can avoid the crazy lines at the post office. Totally worth it. For me. Maybe not for my sisters who will potentially get their gifts late, but I think they'll live. And forgive me too.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Old Man Winter left a sprinkling of the white stuff on the mountains.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my twelve year old nephew said he's a believer in the mayan apocalyptic prophesy. He's a doomsday prepper, he said. His mama asked him what he's done to prep for the end of the world. "Enjoy my life," he said. The end is near! Prep, everyone! Enjoy your lives!

On the twelfth (how do you spell that???? It just doesn't look right, but I'm sure it is.) The grandparents arrive! My boy said he was going to have a show and a sippy and then sit in front of the door for a few hours until they get here.

We are waiting...waiting...either for the end of the world or for my parents to arrive. Either way, I plan to follow my nephew's example and enjoy it.

The Reason for the Season

...according to Nicco.

"Grown-ups had to be invented so someone could get married so Jesus could be born so we could finally have years."

Some Things My Seven Year Old Said Today

We went to dinner tonight. Nicco, from the back seat said, "Turn on the music, yo. I want to rock."

When I snuggled him for sleep he talked about his dinner. He said the patty was pretty good, but not too good. "Like Dad said, " he said, "it was kind of fancy, but not too fancy. But the  fries were good."

We talked about potatoes. Nicco likes potatoes. Especially fries. He said we should have fries again. Daddy makes the best fries. I said we should make smashed potatoes again soon. He said, "Are you kidding? Anything that's a potato is a Friend O' Mine."

Home

"Security" by David Bowman

"Then were there brought unto him little children, that he should put his hands on them, and pray...Jesus said, suffer the little children and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

Happy Three Dozen Day!

12/12/12

We won't see this for another hundred years! Do the mayans have a prediction for today?

How should we plan? How should we celebrate? What should we do?

I'm thinking 1 dozen chocolates, 1 dozen doughnuts, 1 dozen cookies.
Or maybe 1 dozen bagels, 1 dozen roses, 1 dozen chocolates.
How about 1 dozen cupcakes, 1 dozen eclairs, and 1 dozen chocolates?

The possibilities are endless, really.

Book Club, Christmas Edition (a post that is only fun for Book Club Ladies)

(Kristen, this is for you.)

We have Book Club and The Other Book Club. We have Our Ward and The Other Ward. The two (or four, I guess, depending on how you look at it) intermix and mingle a lot, to the point where Book Club considered dissolving and assimilating with The Other Book Club.

On the one hand, I think that is a great idea. Most of the Book Club ladies also go to The Other Book Club. The Other Book Club also reads a lot of books that I think I would like to read and talk about with smart ladies. But Book Club is familiar and intimate. I like that too. So I'm torn. Except that my very nature screams Resistance, Non-compliance, and therefore, Non-assimilation. I think I come down on the side of Keep the Two Separate, but not Too Separate.

There is one grand exception...we should totally merge for the Christmas Book Club Party. In spite of getting screwed royally (twice!) in the gift exchange, the Christmas Book Club Party was surely best done together. Lots of Food and Lots of Laughs definitely go best with Lots of People.

Some notable notables from last night:

Tax is Awesome!
Because we merged last night, some people didn't know other people, so we went around the circle introducing ourselves. And my friend Kristen filled in the gaps in everyone's life story if she felt interesting gaps were missing. We came to Melanie, who apparently is the only one who knows everyone and tried to get out of saying anything about herself. Kristen started telling the Story of Melanie, and Melanie took over. We found out that she's a non-practicing attorney whose specialty preference, were she to practice law, would be tax law. This, she said, is because it's like a strategy game. A game of chess with the IRS. Fun. Interesting. Exactly the opposite feeling I have about Tax. The lovely lady sitting beside me, who apparently, is a liberal ObamaZombie (I didn't know ObamaZombies could be lovely, but they can in certain circumstances. Like if you don't talk about taxes), said "So you could be Mitt Romney." I said, "Or Tim Geithner. If the smart money move is to move your money, why wouldn't smart money people make that move?" Melanie said, "It's all legal." Lovely Zombie said, "Too soon? I guess some people are still hurting." Well, my Zombie friend, it's true. And lots of people will be hurting for a long, long time. But that's a conversation for another day. We move on.

I'm Winning This Conversation
In the introduction phase of the evening, Zumba and Basketball came up. My sweet friend said she would never play basketball with these other ladies because they're scary. One of the Others asked, "Have I ever harmed you?" to which my sweet friend replied, "Only because no points are involved." The Other lady said, "There are always points involved. I'm winning this conversation." That was the Winning One Liner of the night. Congratulations, D'Nel. Winner.

Pox and Flu
The book for last night, which I didn't read, was Octavian Nothing (and a whole bunch of other words in what may be the longest title for a book in the history of earth.) It sounded very interesting. Apparently, when small pox was a thing, there were pox parties where everyone got infected/inoculated and the ones who survived won. There was a much higher survival rate among the Pox-Partiers than individuals trying to survive on their own. Turns out, in the book I didn't read, that there were lots of experiments on people. I gathered that the experiments were done at least in small part to control the people. The Small Pox was used by the Controllers to Control! Precisely, I said, why I don't get a flu shot. Ask yourselves, I said, Why the Government pushes the Flu shot so strongly. Just. Ask. Why.

Ho Ho Ho
There's a fancy lady who likes to come late to book club. In pretty dresses and high heels. She claims it's because she was at a meeting at church, but I think it's because she's a diva and likes to make a grand entrance. We'll call this Fancy Lady "Crystal." Betty, the Hostess, had many mugs. We each got to choose a mug and keep it! For a Keepsake! The Sparkly, Golden Mug was already taken, so Crystal had to make a different choice. Someone suggested she take the mug that said Ho Ho Ho. She pretended to take offense, but took the mug. At least briefly.

Fifty Shades of Lori
Lori is the kind of person who can say outrageous things with a straight face so you giggle uncomfortably and wonder if she is actually serious. I guess if you know Lori well, you don't wonder. You just know she's not. But then, she does have that way of making you question what you know. In the introduction phase of the evening, Lori said, "Some little known fact about me...hmm...most people don't know I was born in Egypt. (gasp, wow, how interesting!) I was found in a basket among the bulrushes." Okay, you got us! Once upon a time, it must have been recent, she said she would like to read Fifty Shades of Grey for her selection of the month. This was at The Other Book Club so I can only imagine the blushes and uncomfortable giggles among the Mormon Mommies at Book Club. +1, Lori.

Two Time Loser
The Gift Exchange began with three awesome gifts. Chocolates and books about chocolate and sweet smelling soaps with which to enjoy a book in the solitude of a sweet smelling bath. When it came to my turn to choose, I debated whether to steal one of the previous gifts or to open a new one. Against my (as it turns out) better judgment, I opened a new gift. Now, here's the thing. I'm the only one (until Janelle came along...thank you, Janelle!) who doesn't like Twilight in my group. At least I think I'm the only one. I'm certainly the only one bold enough to say it out loud to the Twi Moms. At least my Twilight friends aren't crazy, like others I've heard about. They are only mildly cuckoo-pants for sparkly teen vampires. Anyway, I've voiced my anti-Twilight opinion and it seems to come up a lot. I don't know why, but it does. I swear I only said it once, but I must have said it loudly. So I opened The Gift, and it was Eclipse, the movie! Now, I can be a good sport if I have to. I was able to laugh at myself and really feel good that my gift to Kristen was the single most hilarious moment in her life. Of all people, I got the Twilight gift. Oddly though, no one wanted to steal it from me. I guess they all have it already. That was my first loss in the gift-exchange game.

When things were wrapping up, Crystal winked and smiled and said, "I'll trade gifts with you. I have teenagers at home." Sure, teenagers. I kind of think Crystal fancies herself a teenager. I told her she could just have it, she didn't need to trade me. She insisted, no really! you can have my books. I insisted back, no really, you can have the DVD and the books. She handed me the books anyway, and I took them anyway. For appearances. Believe it or not, sometimes I care about appearances. The books: Jane Goodall, Hope for Animals and Their World; GREEN, American Style; and The Plot to Save the Planet, How Visionary Entrepreneurs and Corporate Titans are Creating Real Solutions to Global Warming. Two.Time.Loser.

I put my books in my bag and Kristen of the Twilight Movie asked what about my DVD. I said I gave it a good home. From the back corner of the room, Crystal said, "Did you say you gave it to the Ho?!?!??!!!?" HOME. I said. I gave it a good HOME. Where it was wanted. MMMM. Hommmmmme. I think we gave Crystal a complex last night. Or a lot of attention. Which she loves. Our gift to you, Crystal. The Spotlight. Revel. Bask.

And that is what happened at Book Club last night. And if anyone wonders what my gifts for the 2013 Christmas Book Club Party will be, I'll give you a hint...three books about saving the planet.

(P.S. I just found out that Skyfall won the box office wars against Whatever Twilight Movie Was Recently in Theaters. Daniel Craig kicks sparkly vampire butt.)

Aspirations

My Nicco wants to be an artist.

He's also a Fine Young Capitalist.

On our way to school this morning, the most interesting cloud was sitting over the mountain. I said to my boy that I wished I had my camera. I hoped that the cloud would still be there when I got home so I could take a picture. (Alas, it is not.)

Nicco said, "That cloud is meant to be painted. When I grow up and be an artist, I'll paint it. And I'll sell it to you."

~snort~ (that's what I did. I snorted.)

Magi

The gifting tradition at Christmas comes, of course, from the Three Wise Men bringing gifts to The Newborn King roughly two thousand years ago. It's a good tradition that maybe got out of hand along the journey of two thousand years, but still a good tradition. I have about a dozen people I need to acknowledge and thank for their role in my kid's life and mine...teachers, visiting teachees, etc. I was just going to bake cookies and put a bow on top, but I think these cups of cocoa are much cuter, and only $3.50 apiece!

Thanks for the idea, Big Sis!

Speaking of visiting teaching, my ladies came to my house the other day and one told a story of some random "victim" of something, maybe Sandy, I don't know, but she "needed" pretty much everything, food, shelter, clothing, so instead of turning to the Red Cross or her church she went to facebook and demanded cash. She didn't get any so she guilt-tripped her "friends" and her "friends" guilt tripped everyone else and sure enough, the cash poured in and the "victim" presently posted all the super awesome expensive gifts and name brand clothes she bought for herself and her daughter. These "victims" have pretty much sucked the compassion right out of my spirit.

I am focusing on local homeless folks who don't have internet access and actually cannot provide food, water, and shelter for themselves. Specifically, the homeless fuzzy buddy who came meowing at my door.

Before anyone tells me I'm crazy, you should have seen my little boy in his compassion-filled tender heartedness. He wants to keep this fuzzy buddy, but I let him know clearly and without question that this is a visitor until we can find her a home that is not ours, preferably her actual home. I gave her food and water and a potty, I gave her scratches (she's a loving little cat, unlike some other furry friends I know...), and I put a FOUND ad on craigslist. If I don't get any takers, I will take this meowing, purring, softy, snuggly, loving cat to a shelter. If she's a pet and chipped, they will find her owners. If not, they'll keep and care for her. I. Will. Not. Keep. Her. I promise.

 

My visiting teachers also brought me gold, frankincense and myrrh. Well, real frankincense and myrrh (cool!) and gold-ish colored pebbles. Nicco was curious and asked me what was in the bags. I read the information from the paper that Holly brought with the gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and I told him they were gifts for the Baby Jesus. After dinner and after I snuggled him to sleep and settled in to watch a movie I noticed a little extra something among my international nativities:

 

 Gold

Frankincense





 Myrrh

I'll have to leave the gifts with the babies. It's too cute.

Outtake

We took pictures for our Christmas card today. We tried a couple different positions and places and we even tried to get the cat in the picture.  Nicco had a hard time with the sun, but even so, it's hard for me to believe it was this painful:

I Spy

I spy with my little eye two boys with Christmas Fever!

 

Okay, maybe just one of the two actually has the fever, but the other one is at least a good sport.

Traditionally, the day after Thanksgiving is the day to put up the tree and other Christmas decorations but with turkey day falling so early this year, I was just not ready nor in the mood for it quite yet! But, the Christmas Fever became Actual Fever and the small boy stayed home from school on Monday, so the Dad humored and consoled him by putting up the lights. 

With the lights up, it was just a matter of time and nagging harassment before I gave in and put up the tree. And, I spy with my little eye a very naughty and sneaky cat.

Look at her. With her evil squinty eyes.

To the great disappointment of the small boy, I insisted on NOT putting any "ordaments" on the tree until after we saw how the cat dealt with the tree. Not being quite in the Christmas mood to begin with, thinking about cleaning up shattered glass really brought out the Grinch in me. The cat was not too bad on that first evening of the Plain Tree, so we added lights on the second day. Mostly she sits under the tree, with that wicked look on her kitty face, daring me to do anything about it. On Nicco's third sick day, we added the soft decorations. The cat has played with those, so the others remain boxed up.

On the third sick day, I decided to go ahead and call the doctor. I called at 8:40, ten minutes after the clinic opened, and was told there was an opening at 9:30 and at 10:15. I had not yet showered, so I took the 10:15. I arrived to a PACKED waiting room. What the crap! Seriously? A packed waiting room in a clinic with only one doctor only 1.5 hours after opening? I would not be surprised to see the place packed at the end of the day with a whole day of appointments getting backed up, but that early? Seriously? So we waited. And waited. And waited some more.

After an hour and a half of waiting I was tempted to just go home because I knew I would pay my $20 and be told that it's some virus. Drink plenty of fluids, get plenty of rest, thank you very much, cha-ching! But I figured I'd already sat there that long, I may as well stick it out to the end. We got to the exam room, the nurse weighed my kid (really? they knew why I was there...and I had just gone in for the well child visit a couple weeks before) then took his temperature and said the doctor would be in soon. Sorry for the wait, he got behind. After about 20 minutes in the exam room, my little monkey was bouncing off the walls and the Physician's Assistant came in and asked some questions, listened to heart and lungs, looked in mouth and ears, made some notes and said the doctor will be in soon.

Another twenty minutes later, the doctor came in and did all the same things the PA did, wrote a prescription for a codeine-laced cough syrup and anti-biotics for the bronchial infection. Well, I was glad I waited after all, poor kid. We went out to get our lollipop and receipt and the waiting room was completely silent and empty. Good gracious sakes, people! Learn how to schedule appointments!

Yesterday was the fourth sick day and my boy was tired (codeine!) and just wanted to watch t.v. But he also wanted to be snuggled up in a Pillow Fort. And I spy with my little eye Nicco, watching a show via periscope.

Oh my goodness.

Feast

I'm watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving with my kid.

They are making toast and popcorn for dinner. I asked Nicco if he would like toast for our Thanksgiving dinner.

He said, "Toast, Mom? I don't even like toast. All I like is ciabatta bread, not toasted, and without the skin."

So, I'll take that as a no.

Pilgrims in Space

Not surprisingly, Nicco has been learning about Thanksgiving traditions and history in school. Also, since the third grade class did a patriotic performance a few weeks ago we've been listening to his patriotic songs CD in the car. One of the songs mentions pilgrims. More on this later.

The boy has been talking about all the things he is thankful for. It's a good thing to do. It's good practice. He made a booklet about gratitude at school yesterday. It says, with his answers in italics,:
    
     On Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my cat.
     I'm thankful for my family because portecshen [sic] (protection).
     At mealtimes I'm thankful for vitamins and protein.
     At school I'm thankful for my spelling tests each Friday.
     Outside when I look at nature, I'm thankful for trees because they give us oxygen and shade.
     I'm thankful I have clothes.
     I almost forgot! I'm also thankful for pilgrims.

About these pilgrims. On our ride home from Mesa when the line "Oh beautiful for pilgrim feet, whose firm impassioned stress, a thoroughfare of freedom beat across the wilderness" came up on the CD he asked, "Did pilgrims find this country?" I told him that there were people already living here but then explorers found the country. Pilgrims were the first people to settle it and build cities. He said, "I'm thankful the pilgrims built cities. We should say thank you to those pilgrims when we're in space."

The Fastest Kids in the (South) West

My weekend, in a (few) nutshell(s).

 

After school on Friday, I got my kid and hit the road. We were very excited to see our family and watch our girl run. We were very excited to spend a couple nights in a hotel...hotels are adventures. 

 

We arrived and called Aunt Di to see whether we should head to the race course or whether we should wait and see what dinner plans there were. She told us to head on out. We did. We found Miss Lucy and "pretty much her best friend" Kami and hooked up with the rest of the people. I had to follow Diana to dinner because she has a nav system and I don't.

Lucy Biles: "I beat everyone!"

Nicco was a little shy with all those crazy high school kids (they're teenagers, after all) and strangers, but he was happy anyway to see his big cousin. He smiled and giggled at her. We ate, visited, then parted ways. The racers needed to get good sleep before the big day.

Back at the hotel, Nicco wanted to sleep on the side of the bed by the clock because he was "more curious about the time" than I was. In the morning, he woke up and told me "It's 7:14 already!" so we got up, showered, packed our necessaries, ate breakfast, then headed out to the course. We got there before our family so we got acquainted with some of the other XC parents. Such good people. I had a tinge of nostalgia and was afraid I would turn into a hot puddle of sentimental tears. I kept it together for the most part.

We also watched people while we waited. XC kids are in large proportion colossal nerds. I love them. I also read team t-shirts. One said "I'm XC and I know it." Ha. One said, "We're not the Marines. We leave people behind." Double ha! One said, "Work will win where wishing won't." Nice alliteration! And, ah.

 Nicco with the sun in his eyes and his sweet big cousin Lucy.

 Lucy's coach almost photo-bombed them, but instead he pushed our girl! Such a joker.

Before the boys' race, this little 9 year-old girl sang the national anthem. It was pretty much amazing.

The boys team won their state championship and hoped to qualify for nationals at this meet. The top 2 teams automatically qualified, with a handful of wild-cards on the edge. The wild card teams have to wait anxiously for results from the other regions to find out if they make it or not.

Here's my boy watching the finish of one of the races.

And here's my boy killing time between races. He was very patient and good on what was probably a mostly boring day for him.

 (Today I'm thankful for portable technology with which to entertain small children.)

 Our speedy girls, Kami and Lucy, pre-race.

 Warming up.

 An anxious Mama and Coach at the start.

The top four runners, just beyond one mile. There were these two sets of two leading the other 220-some girls. They ran shoulder to shoulder, sometimes jockeying for position, trading places here and there. The computer chips kept live-stats up until the 2nd mile, then everyone was in suspense to see the finish. It was a blind finish, so we had to just wait until they came around the corner.

Lucy ran strong and had a solid 4th place finish. Those Colorado girls ahead of her were just a little too fast. She and the other top 5 finishers broke the course record, she ran her personal best, and she retained her title of Fastest Girl In Utah, enhancing it a bit by becoming the Fastest Girl in UT, AZ, NM, and NV. Good girl!

This is why I love Cross Country...friendly rivals. There is no "let's go stomp on their throats and kill!" attitude in XC.

The sun made it difficult for Nicco to see his i-pad screen while he waited for the awards. He improvised.

Lucy and 18 of the top 21 finishers. She qualified for the national championship in two weeks. We're so proud! She was one place out of medals, but lucky her, she did not go home without hardware. Nicco brought two plastic dollar store Winner medals up to give to the girls. It was cute.

 Here are the kids, being silly. So shocking that kids would be silly.

 Again, with the silliness.

And the runners (minus one) with their coaches. Minus One was off pouting, I think. The boys came in 4th in a tie-breaker. Their little hearts were nearly broken. But not quite, because they still have that wild-card shot at nationals.

After running races and waiting for awards and waiting to process info for nationals and waiting for everyone to take pictures, everyone was pretty much starving and exhausted. We went to Whataburger for lunch and Nicco got to sit next to his cousin while he ate his patty. He smiled and giggled. He was not the only boy smiling and giggling at Lucy and Kami. Although for entirely different reasons.

The parents took the kids back to their home base, I took Nicco back to the hotel, then while the kids played and celebrated, the moms went to see some silly movie and Diana came to visit with me. We got some good sister-time in, and I loved it. It was so much fun.

This morning Nicco wished he could see Lucy again, but everyone had a long day of driving ahead. I'm glad my drive was only 2 hours, not 12. We're home safe and the Daddy is off on his motorcycle. And all is right with the world.

I'm So Exciting!

Once upon a time, Nicco said he was so exciting when he meant he was so excited. Since then, I almost always say (in my head) I'm so exciting! when I mean I'm so excited! I know my big sis relates.

Speaking of Big Sis, she (and her offspring) are the reason for my emotional state.

I get a road trip! Yay!

I'm picking up my boy from school this afternoon and heading up to Mesa for the Nike Southwest Regional Cross-Country Championship! Which I expect my super-speedy niece to win! Well, to be fair, maybe I don't expect her to win. I would not be one. tiny. bit. surprised if she does, however.

I'm going to spend an evening, a day (at the races! yippee!) and a night with my sister basking in the reflected glory of my State Champion niece. It will be all nostalgic and fun. Nostalgic just because I ran cross-country too once upon a time when I was young, not because I have any remote idea what it is like to be fast, let alone a State Champion. Then again, I'm not sure Lucy has any idea either. Machines don't have emotions.

Good times ahead!

A Story; or Be Careful What You Wish For

I have all sorts of wild emotions swirling about my heart and mind. I'm disappointed, angry, sad, betrayed, bitter...

I don't want to be angry, sad and bitter. Can't help the disappointed and betrayed, but I can control the others.

As a family, we have decided to really focus on our own self reliance. Watching the election and the weather disaster and the government's response to the disaster in the North East really spurs the interest in depending on NO ONE for our own well being and survival. This will give us a sense of peace and confidence to replace some other negative thoughts and feelings.

We are going to have a provident living Christmas!

As an individual, I want to focus on being more compassionate and kind. I'm pretty selfish. Referring again to the Nor'east, being perfectly honest, those people have pretty much voted the compassion out of me. I don't feel bad for people who can't manage the minimum preparation with at least A WEEK'S NOTICE of pending disaster. I'm an ant, dammit, and the grasshoppers can freeze and starve for all I care.

I kind of feel bad for people whose homes got destroyed and swept away. No amount of food storage or preparedness can help you in that kind of disaster. But all the people in the streets fighting and screaming for help just asked for MORE government interference in all of our lives and guess what...they aren't that reliable. In fact, FEMA shut down because of bad weather.

So, with all this bitterness, I really do want to be kind. I don't like being hateful. It's no fun. I've spent a few days really pondering and focusing on being more generous with my time and helping my actual neighbors in their need. Lo and behold, on Monday morning I had an e-mail about a family who just moved into our ward, the Mama just had a baby and just came home from an extended stay at the hospital because of a blood clot and they are not yet unpacked. Could anyone help her unpack, watch her kids, bring her dinner? The next day I had a text from my friend asking if I would have time Wednesday to help her pick up a car in Phoenix. Last night I got a call from another friend asking if I could watch her kid after school because Plan A fell through. It was an emergency.

Well, I asked for it after all. So yes, yes, and yes.

I spent Tuesday morning helping New Jenny unpack and dropped pizza and salad off for her family on my way to a Relief Society meeting about canning meat. (Provident Living!) I spent this morning on a pleasant drive up to Phoenix with my friend. We chatted and got to know a little more about each other.

As we pulled up to the place where she was picking up her car, I told her I brought my taser just in case. She said, "The razor-wire is making you a little nervous, is it?" So in industrial Phoenix, she finalized her transaction with a very pleasant man, whose daughter (roughly 30, I'd say) worked at the reception desk. He gave Emily some pointers on driving the '67 Bronco but then when my 5'2" friend asked how to adjust the seats, he said, "Uh...that might be a problem." The seats don't adjust, she doesn't drive a stick...so we decided to trade drivers. The seats were still a bit of a stretch for me, but not as bad. The helpful and kind Seller of the Vehicle found a big fat phone book and a pillow for a back rest to bring the "seat" forward a little. He duct-taped (you can do anything with duct-tape!) foam blocks to the pedals to bring them closer too. I think he felt bad sending two girls not much older than his own daughter out on the road in that car.

Emily decided she could drive it after all. I promised to follow close behind. We stopped for gas and a quart of oil, but we couldn't figure out how to pop the hood. A (homeless?) guy approached us and offered assistance. Emily was on the phone with the Kindly Seller of the Vehicle who drove down quickly to show her how to pop the hood. It was slightly tricky, but easy if you know how. Homeless Guy wasn't leaving. I was glad I had my taser, just in case. Homeless Guy asked for the empty oil bottle. "I use it for...something else," he said mysteriously. "Mumble mumble bicycle mumble mumble." Okay...

Kindly Seller of the Vehicle didn't leave until Homeless Guy wandered away and Emily was safely on the road. Thank you, Kindly Seller of the Vehicle!

Emily and I made a deal to trade cars about halfway home, but she just kept on going past the mid-point. When we pulled into her driveway, she said she was so miserable she just wanted to push through and not stop for nothin'. She thanked me profusely for my willingness to help and I told her I was glad she called. Really! I was! I'm her visiting teacher after all, so I should be the person she calls for help!

Now that I am home safely I am digging out playdough and cookie dough to entertain and feed small children when they come home from school.

And now my generosity plate is full, thanks! Maybe I'll go back to bitter for just a day or two...

{{Shivers}}

I only just officially turned off the air conditioner.

I'm supposed to have a good 2-3 weeks, a month even, where I can open doors and windows and let the fresh air in before I have to turn the heater on.

The other day when Nicco talked to his grandparents, they mentioned cold and snow. He said it's cold here too, like in the 60s or 70s. Which is fine for outside but it's down to 68 in the house!

This will not do.

Season of Gratitude

Wowsers.

Just, Wow.

My little boy came to me just now and said, Mom, aren't you glad you were born and live in this country?

Yes, I said. I am extraordinarily thankful that we live in this land of freedom and opportunity.

He said, Soldiers fight and die to protect us and our country.

Yes, I said. And I am very thankful that there are soldiers who are willing to fight and die for our freedom. They fight and die to protect good, honest, hardworking, strong and industrious people.

Like Dad, he said.

Yes, like Dad.

So I'm going to be thankful for two things this year, he said.

What are those two things, I asked.

What we just talked about and my family, he said.

I'll tell you what, I'm thankful that amid my weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth as I obsessed over politics leading up to and through the night of the election that THIS is what my boy came away with. Gratitude and love.

Lost Tooth Follow Up

My cute and silly little boy. He's cute and silly. He wants me to take pictures of odd things so they can "be a memory forever." I agree with the sentiment, but not especially with all the things he wants to remember forever.

 

I did agree to take a picture of the "I lost a tooth!" sticker he got at school today. And now it's a memory forever. 

I told him that every time I lost a tooth as a kid my Dad would say "Now you have a hole in your head!" He laughed. I was planning to secretly call my Dad to tell him to mention the hole in his head the next time he spoke to Nicco, but I forgot.

When he got home from school, I asked Nicco if he wanted to call his grandparents to tell them about his tooth. He said sure and called them up. He talked to his grandma briefly before his grandpa got on the line. He said "I lost my tooth today!" I heard my Dad in the background say "Now you have a hole in your head!" Hip-hip-hooray! He didn't need to be told! He said it is one benefit of being predictable. You don't have to be reminded to be predictable.

Nicco put his tooth in a treasure box. I asked him if he wants to put it under his pillow for the tooth fairy. He said "No, I want to keep it forever. Besides, I don't really believe in fairies."

Well, says the Mom to herself, that was easy.

Finally!

At each of the  four dentist visits in the past two years Doctor Flynn has told Nicco that he will start losing those baby teeth soon. The x-rays show the adult teeth pushing up, but no wiggling.

Because a handful of preschoolers, lots of kindergartners, and all but one first grader had lost at least one tooth, Nicco has been exposed to several tooth fairy and losing teeth storybooks.

One day he said to me, "I'm tired of being a baby. When am I going to lose these darn teeth?!?"

Last Saturday he bit into a carrot at lunch and his eyes got big and welled up with frightened tears, his face paled, his little chin quivered and he said to me in a shaky squeaky voice tinged with panic, "Mom, mytoothiswigglingbecauseIcrackeditandthatisnotgood. THAT.IS.NOT.GOOD."

I patted his noggin and told him to let me have a look. I wiggled it and told him the crack he heard inside his head was one part carrot, one part root. I drew a diagram of a tooth and explained the process of root deterioration and told him that this is normal. He was comforted.

The next day, he was eating cake and told me thanks for the red frosting. I told him it was probably blood, not frosting. I didn't put any frosting on the cake. He ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror and had a small freak-out about the blood. In the same squeaky panicky voice, he asked me "Is this normal?" to which I responded yes. Sigh of relief.

The four days following the initial crack were highlighted roughly every 30 minutes with the question, "Is it ready yet?" No matter how many times I told him he'll know when it's ready and it could take a few days, he just kept asking.

This morning I asked him how his tooth is doing. He let me wiggle it. I got a big smile. He asked, "Is it ready?" I said, "Yes! Are you?" He nodded. I got a little piece of paper towel and told him it might hurt a teeny little bit. He giggled and bounced and said, "DO IT!"

I pulled, he put his tongue in the hole in his head and said, "That was it? Are you kidding me? That didn't hurt a bit!" Then he ran to show his Dad.

He finally gets to join all his other classmates on the "Lost a Tooth" chart at school. Perfect timing too, he's the Special Person of the Week this week.

I haven't seen smiles like this since Christmas!

The End

I believed in that Shining City on a Hill.

We are not that Shining City on a Hill.

Like my little sis said, this is a nation of godless, lazy, selfish, entitled, greedy dependents.

This is the end of politics for me. I'm going to turn it off and put on my metaphorical earmuffs and blinders. TFG will suck my soul and spirit from me otherwise. And he's not worth it. Neither are his mindless supporters. I don't have faith in the American people anymore. Traitors. Slaves to a tyrant. I don't believe in America anymore. The nation of our founders died yesterday, may she rest in peace. A republic, madam, if you can keep it. Ha! Sorry Mr. Franklin, we couldn't keep it. We had a good run, but it's over.

Am I bitter? Why yes, yes I am. I am bitterly clinging to my guns and my religion because that is what's left. I have faith in God. And I have faith in my Ruger.

And when SHTF, and trust me, S will HTF, all those wards of the state who think that Big Brother will take care of them will cannibalize and be cannibalized first. And when the zombies come, my family and I can sit back and pick them off one by one.

We'll win.

Makers v. Takers

Sadly, this is what we have become.

I believed in America.

I believed in individualism.

I believed in Freedom.

Now, I believe that we take what we can take.

Gas it up, burn it down.

And move to the caribbean.

It's Morning Again in America

It's going to be a long day, Patriots.

Vote.

I voted!

Let's get this done.

It's a Sign

There's a saying in Colorado that you know God's a Broncos fan, why else would he paint the sunset Orange and Blue?

 

So how do we know God's a Romney supporter?

Spooktacular

Our Halloween season began just a day after we got back from vacation. We went to the pumpkin farm with some friends. This was before Nicco's field trip and he didn't especially want to go with our friends because he didn't want to spoil the school sponsored excursion. We didn't especially want to go because we just got back from our trip and still had unpacking and laundry to do.

 

But, our friend has a very unpredictable schedule and we knew this might be the best chance for fun together so off we went.

The kiddos climbed to the top of the huge and giant Straw Mountain. 

USA! USA! USA!

They bet on blue in the piglet races.

They tried to feed the animals at the petting zoo, but for some reason, the animals just weren't all that hungry.

I'm sure it had nothing to do with the never ending stream of people shoving cups full of food in their faces.

They bounced on the bouncy pillow.

They raced around the hay track in these carts. We tried to discourage Nicco because it looked like work and I had this funny feeling that he would get frustrated and mad. And, sure enough, after his foot slipped off the pedal twice and it was hard to get going again, I had to push him around the track. Irritating. Oh well.

 

The Daddies showed the kids how it's done:

We rode a big truck out to the dusty pumpkin fields and found our perfect pumpkins.

The kids were dusty, tired, and satisfied. Success.

 

There was also a zip line...Nicco couldn't resist. His review? Not as fun as the Monkey Jungle. I guess we'll have to go back! (To the monkey jungle, I mean. Not the pumpkin farm.)

That child of mine loves all holidays. He loves all celebrations. He counts down from one to the next and is always looking forward to whatever is coming up. So, in spite of my natural minimalist tendencies, I try my best to do fun and exciting things for my kid around holidays.

 

I made mummies for dinner:



 And ghosts in the graveyard for dessert.

 I thought these spooky treats were clever and fun. Nicco was not impressed. "Mom," he said, "Those are just hot dogs in bread with ketchup. They are not mummies and blood and bandages."

I brought out dessert and told him it is spoooOOOoooky...GhooooOOOooosts in the graveyard...ooooOOOOoooh. He said, "Mom, you're not scaring me at all." I was tempted to turn off all the lights and set him in front of the Michael Meyers Halloween movie marathon. You want scary, buddy, I'll give you scary. I chose not to traumatize my sassy little boy after all. But I wanted to.

We walked around the neighborhood trick-or-treating. I love Halloween in Arizona. We were in shorts and t-shirts, and many of the neighbors were out on their patios or in their driveways greeting the kids. So fun and friendly.

My little Mario was a hit again. At one house a couple of teenage boys told him "Awesome Mario costume, Dude." Nicco whispered to me, "I can't believe teenagers called me dude!" I think he was a little bit proud.

Speaking of teenagers, we went to Burger King for lunch the other day. We had the play place all to ourselves, which I think is great. Nicco wished for someone to play with. Then we saw a family with two older kids walking towards the play place...slowly approaching...Nicco quickly hid behind a slide. When they sat down at the table just on the other side of the door, my boy came out and said, "Phew! That was close." I said I thought he wanted someone to play with. He said, "Not teenagers Mom. Teenagers."

 

This morning as we walked along the sidewalk to school Nicco told me that 6th grade is when it starts getting bossy. Kindergarten, first grade, and the lower grades are pretty good, but the older grades are bad.

 

Why, I asked.

 

You guessed it, Teenagers.

 

ooooOOOOoooo....Spooky.

 

Happy Halloween!