Hurray for Better Days!

...all is right with my world.

• Going to run "not on the two mile loop" around my house, but I'm heading for the hills. Literally. Ahhh...sweet freedom.
• Was able to travel to Los Angeles and attend the temple today... that quiet time was MUCH needed. A big thank-you to my cousins and Aunt (and Grandma!) for watching my kids while I was away. It was a LONG day, but worth it. Was able to get some thoughts fixed in my brain with all the quiet thinking time I had.
  
• Ate a cheeseburger from In and Out (In N' Out?) with grilled onions. YUM. French Fires? not so great. Later I had a Nestle Tollhouse Ice cream sandwich. That hit the spot.
  

"This isn't a bad day, this is what you'd call 'EXCITING'!"

So says Ryan when I tell him I think this is the worst day of my life to date.
He continues with, "It's not like anyone if the family died or got seriously hurt." True, true.

But my day has been thus so far:

Wake up at 5:30 am to go for a walk. A walk, rather than a run, because I am taking a break. I take our stupid dog, George the Great-stubborn-Pyrenees, because he likes the exercise, and I like the mountain lion killer instinct in him. We meet up with our biologist neighbor, again, with his female dog (IN HEAT) and George, the "I weigh more than my owner and and have a brain the size of a pea and am so stubborn I should be a donkey" dog is done following me. No, he's not on a leash. Yes, he will be next week. Anyway, I have been getting up before dawn to run because it's the only time I have to myself. MY ONLY OPPORTUNITY. This week I ran into this neighbor TWICE. Haven't seen him all summer, yet this week, he's out walking again! You know what? He doesn't have any kids, and he doesn't need to taking his dog out for a walk when I'm out running! But the best part? (The part that is rational, the just said part is all emotion-feel-sorry-for-myself-I-hate-people...) He stops me and asks me if we are going to put skylights in our house. WHAT?
"Oh, you should come by and see our skylights. They are triple glazed, and so efficient."

Me (while trying to hold a 100+ pound MALE dog back off his cute little Kelsey) "Oh. Um, no, we don't really care for skylights because of the energy transfer of heat and whatnot. Plus, our floor plan is almost completely open with numerous windows for the main living area. The bedrooms are a little dark, but since we sleep in there, that doesn't really bother us."

"Well, you should consider it. It's really nice not to have to turn on a light in the daytime. Plus, you have that 12 foot porch all the way around your house, it must be dark in there. Are you going to run a swamp cooler?"

"No, we are going to go with air conditioning." (My trying not to kick my dog who is being truly obnoxious and scaring the other dog.)

"Really? You know, with this climate, AC just sucks what little moisture out of the air. A swamp cooler would be much more efficient. And with our straw bale walls we have an R-value or 60 and our roof is an R-value of 38."

"Ya, well, we are putting in TWO air conditioning units so we can control different zones in the house." ("So there! And damn your environmental save the earth views!" Do I need to say I was eye rolling by now, wishing he'd just take his dog home already and leave me alone? He makes me want to plow my back 20 acres into alfalfa fields. That would make him really upset. Oh! See? I'm a fighter, not a lover. That's bad.)

After a few more exchanges about how nice his skylights are, he finally notices (?!?) me struggling with my dog and leaves. I hold George until I think they are far enough away, and as soon as I let go of George, he bolts for the cutie dog. I bolt the other direction towards home and sprint (Aack!) into the trailer where I start to wash my arms off of dog spit and fur. Did I mention when I am holding George that he doesn't really appreciate it? And that his mouth envelopes my appendages? Not like he's biting me, but kinda. I wake up Ryan and tell him the situation. I grab a hunk of salami and get into my car to try to retrieve the stupid dog. I find him, with the neighbor and his dog, and we go through the EXACT SAME THING. "You really ought to consider those skylights..." and me sitting on my dog after the salami wouldn't work. I again wait and wait until they are across the street and a quarter mile away... I can't believe how fast "stupid" can run when he wants to. I came back sobbing hysterically because my sitting on the dog cranked up a lot of adrenaline and produced many scratches and a bruise from a tooth (again, not a really bite, but my leg was in his mouth...) AND I felt like this guy and his dog were invading my personal space and my personal time. Ryan went and got him for me.

I think I might need some therapy as to why my running time (with no interruptions) is so danged important to me.

I shower. The kids wake up. We get ready to spend some time with Ryan because the kids haven't seen him in days, and he's going to be gone all next week. Can't find Ed's shoes. ANYWHERE. He wears Will's. While driving we see a Great Pyrenees running amok in a field and Ryan says, "Looks like someone else has the same problem." We leave and get donuts for the kids. Jessie has a nasty, smelly, leaky diaper problem that gets changed in the parking lot of the donut shop. Now she looks totally white trash because she has no pants. We make it to the big city and go to Lowe's for some house wrap and more wood stain. The kids were the WORST behaved I have ever seen them. They have been so good lately, and they regressed terribly this morning. In the stress of that (IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A GOOD DAY WITH DADDY!) I left my purse at Lowe's. In the parking lot. With my wallet. With our grocery money for the rest of the month. Credit cards. I discover this about 10 minutes later, we turn around with me having a full fledged anxiety attack. I couldn't breathe and I was like a leaky faucet with my eye balls. Last summer (summer before?) when Ryan dropped his cell phone at the movie theater, some guy picked it up and in less than 24 hours racked up $1300.00 worth of charges. I was thinking of this and imagining the worst. All my credit cards maxed out, our house money gone... I run into the store when I see it isn't where we parked and asked the lady at the counter if anyone had turned in a purse. She said, "I'm not sure, let me ask..." I seriously thought I was going to fall over. A guy came over and said, "Oh, ya. Let me go get it!" It was locked up in the back. Nothing was touched. Maybe it was the poopy pants I had stuffed in there that acted as a deterrent (they were wrapped in a paper towel! I thought maybe I could put them back on Jessie if they were just wet, but in the store I discovered they were MORE than just wet).
Actually, I met the man who turned it in. He had a Lowe's shirt on, and was walking in the parking lot and saw me with it. He said he had found a brand new cell phone just the other day in about the same spot. I thanked him profusely. I hope it was profusely... I was still having my anxiety attack. I couldn't see straight... I'm grateful for honest people.

After another 10 minutes of sobbing and no air, I was able to calm down. We went to the fabric store and made it home without incident. So, it's been better. Now I feel emotionally drained, and I'm pretty sure my new Scentsy wax melter thing gave me a headache. I'll be glad when today is over so I can start again.

As for George, we are going to get him a choke collar, a fun and dandy new leash, and some serious doggie lessons. Ryan said I should write to Cesar who-ever, the Dog Whisperer. I'm thinking I wish I'd had a cattle prod. Just one little poke. We'll keep George. But my next dog is going to be another German Shorthair.

I have a problem...

I want to sew. Bad.

I want a dress form.

I want some fabric.

I want a sewing room.

BECAUSE I'm tired of bugging Jocelyn every week with the question, "So, have you done any sewing this week?" in the hopes that she has done something. Because it might fulfill some weird void in my life.

BECAUSE I saw the cutest, most wearable, most orange linen dress that cost a lot of money, that I KNOW I COULD MAKE MYSELF.


I'm not sure I remember how to sew. Yet, I do... I'm just out of practice. I know I forgot how to use my serger and will have to re-read the instructions.

One more reason that I can't wait to have my house done!

Potty Training?

My name is Jessie, and I want to use the potty. Thank-you.

Jessie is 16 months old, as of last week. She is currently fascinated with the potty. She calls it "pah, pah." She takes off her diapers and brings me new ones. She has taken off clean diapers and gone properly on the toilet. Now, she is very young. I'm not going to stop her though- that would be dumb! What am I supposed to do? Tell her, "No, you wear diapers." I think not! It's really no wonder about the potty- we practically live in the bathroom. We travel just long enough to where we have to use the potty before we leave and when we get places. We crowd into the handicap stalls in restrooms (so cozy!). She is getting a first rate education in all things potty! I do have to say that putting her on the toilet every time she goes to the bathroom door saying "pah, pah" only to have her sit and smile and point at everything can be inconvenient. But short of duct-taping her diapers on, I don't really see an alternative. You go ahead an save me that monthly diaper expense, Jessie. I won't mind at all.

A day full of events!

Sunday we got up early and headed to my sister's ward for Charlotte's blessing. Ryan was able to make it for the blessing portion of it, and then he headed up the mountain back home to work. The kids were well behaved, even with cousins around. Kendra and Michael don't like their kids climbing all over the place, and neither do we, so it was understood on all sides what the expectations were. Makes life lots easier that way. After church we went to my Grandma's house to have a little picnic. She lives right around the corner from the church, so it was an easy drive when we went back to church for Riley C.'s baptism. Ryan's cousin Jeremy and his wife Eliza were in town. It was fun to visit with everyone. My kids were once again fairly well behaved... I wonder- might they be growing up? Just a little? It's promising. Jessie was smokin' tired though. I felt bad for her. Ed managed to pee all over his pants twice (once at the fireworks, and twice at church). Not pee IN his pants, but rather ON his pants. It happens like this: Little boy needs to "go." Mom sits little boy on toilet, and before we can make sure all parts are pointed in the right direction, boy "goes." Stream of urine comes up and out of the toilet and onto Mom's leg, or come through the crack where the seat and bowl are. I'm going to end this by saying I'm thankful he was well hydrated so it was more like water.

Independance Day

Not OUR fireworks, but pretty anyway!

For the Fourth this year we went to the "Law Enforcement" party. I've only been once before, and after talking to Ryan, we agree that there were fewer people there this year. It was still fun! We got there at 5:30 pm. The kids ate food, played on the grass, and bugged the Reiswig boys. My boys thrive around other boys. They become different animals- Will especially. I guess that's the time he gets to be "all boy" because all of a sudden he's karate chopping and punching with the best of them. Nearly FOUR hours later the fireworks started. They were great. I rarely get all patriotic feeling because it's so hot and late in the day, but seeing the ariel fireworks over the water made me think of canons and ships and how grateful I'm not in battle right now. I'm glad to live in America, where I can get my meals supersized if I want to. Well, that and all the freedom of speech and religion and all that! (No, really- I love that last part more than the supersizing. I never supersize my meal, because I'd get unhealthy fast! But I'm grateful that I can if I want to!)

The kids had fun- There were a lot of ooo's and ahh's and "Bingo!" That would be Ed. Ed also sat next to a friend of a friend. This friend was probably 10 years old. Ed would say "Whoa! Did you see that one, Bobby?" And, "Bobby! That was awesome!" I leaned over to Cori and asked her if the kids name was Bobby. It wasn't. It was Josh. And he never corrected Ed. Good sports with my punks, I tell ya!

Oh, and the labeled shirts? We all wore yellow. The kids had our last name on theirs. It made it easy to keep track of them. Next time I am NOT wearing my matching yellow shirt (it doesn't have my name on it...) because I figure the next time my three year old drops his shorts so he can show his friends his cool Thomas undies, I'd rather hide.

Harris Ranch- ah, the memories!

Ryan and I went up to Harris Ranch near Coalinga to meet some friends for dinner. We hadn't seen Dave and Melissa for eight years! We were both in Coalinga as CHP families, and they are also LDS. That's always nice to have other LDS CHP friends because they "know." Know about graveyards, afternoon shifts, blood, beer, and bad guys. We had a good dinner in the Ranch Kitchen. You can also eat at the steakhouse, but that costs more money AND it's the same beef. Mostly. Unless you order the fanciest cut, which they don't offer in the Ranch Kitchen. Anyway, after dinner we played cards. I haven't done that in YEARS. It was fun. We stayed the night and I woke up early and went for a swim. They have an Olympic distance pool (the full 25 meters) and the pool kicked my butt. I can run five miles without stopping really comfortably. But I struggled swimming 440 meters (about a quarter mile). My form was terrible- I could feel it. Granted, I haven't truly tried to swim in about 10 years. I was not happy with myself, but still fairly happy to be in the pool at 6 in the morning with only the pool guy sweeping the edges.

I used to work at Harris Ranch. It's what any self respecting, recently graduated college, barely married, living in a smelly rental house with no children would do. I got a job working their events. It was fun! I had to work a lot of Friday and Saturday nights, but I attended many wedding receptions that were done up to the nines. Cakes that looked like gifts, dancing to fun music, guests that were mostly very happy and so grateful when you brought them another Margarita. There was no real waitressing, just balancing huge trays full of heavy plates- it was perfect. I learned how to fold napkins and set a proper table. I don't remember the details of that anymore. It was a long time ago, and we don't have a table to set! But we will. Oh, yes. I will have a table to set someday. And I will set it nicely. Actually, I'll make my kids do it. I quit working there when I was hired to teach Jr High Language Arts. I loved almost everything about Harris Ranch- the $2.00 break meals, the leftovers (seriously), and discovering the cheese and almond bar. The cheese/almond bar was done for events that wanted wine but no meal, and it was great! I did not like the really immature attitudes of other workers- a lot of high school type stuff going on about who was making out with who, and a lot of swearing (you know, the unnecessary kind. I'm sure some people will think there is no appropriate time for swearing- I'm not one)... I'm an old lady at heart, I guess.