All Nighter

It began at 9:00 Thursday night, when Austin remembered that his end of semester project was due the next day. I came in to check on him at 11:00 and he was about 1/5th of the way done, and most of that had been done in class. It was a poetry notebook assignment that he should have been working on for the past several weeks.

I told him I would help and began typing in the poems he had written and printing them out for him. We had to find a picture to go with each poem. It just kept going on and on and on. At 2:00 am, Rocky came into the office crying. He had a migraine. So I took him upstairs, rubbed his head and gave him a hand massage, then eventually held his head for him as he vomited violently into the toilet. Poor kid. He gets a migraine usually 1-2 times a month. It sucks! By about 3:30am he was back asleep and I came down to check on Austin. He was about 2/3rds done. So I continued to help him. We were being very goofy because we were so tired. We kept making up stupid poems and laughing at ourselves.

He didn't have quite enough poems written so I brainstormed with him and we came up with the following (for his "personification" poem):

THE SHREDDER

It crunches it down and chews it up,
He greedily gobbles it into his gut.

He chews it and swallows it,
Without any savor,
Because it is white and has no flavor.

But wait oh no!
He’s going to be sick
I’ll press the red button,

To give him the Heimlich.

The Shredder

We continued working until:

Uhgg! This was taken about 15 minutes before we finished.

Stay awake Austin!!!

Austin wrote the following poem for me:

Ode To My MOM:

My dad may not be a handyman,
But that’s what mom’s are for

She fixes the sprinklers, and the sink,
And mops up the kitchen floor.


She can be quite funny,
She gets a laugh or two,
And if you’re feeling crummy,
She’s always there for you.

This is the picture of Bill that Austin included with his ode to his mom.

This is the picture of me that he included in his ode to me.

An ode, to his mom. Gotta love that kid!

Finally at 5:35 I went to bed and Austin got ready for his zero hour class. He went to school without any sleep. Crazy. It worked out okay though, because on Friday night he went camping and he was too tired to care if he was comfortable.

When Austin came home from school on Friday, I asked if he got his project turned in. He said that he was wrong. It's not due till next Wednesday. It was a different assignment that was due today.

Go figure!

Pool-cicles

This is how you create pool-cicles:

Immerse cute kids in very cold water.

You know they are done

when they come out blue and frozen.

Rocky and Keaton are almost done.

Dani, our little 11 year old friend, who swims with us all summer.

She is turning into a pool-cicle.

Remember my first post? Well, I decided I would update you on the progress the pool made that weekend. By Friday the pool got to a whopping 71 degrees (I used a meat thermometer that I think is more accurate than my two floating pool thermometers). The boys decided to go swimming anyway and invited over some of their friends.

Doesn't he just look kinda blue and frozen.

I decided to watch, as swimming in water that cold tends to make breathing near impossible for me, especially when the outside temperature is anything less than 105 degrees. The water was so cold that the boys turned blue. I think they were beginning to turn into pool-cicles.

This is a game of pool ball, not to be confused with a game of pool, which also uses balls.

Warming up after the first day of swimming in the pool.

By Saturday I realized the pool heater is broken. Not working at all. Uhgg! The solar blanket stayed on the pool most of the day and by 4:00pm the pool temp was at 77 degrees, which is cold, but bearable. The boys had a full fledged pool party that day, complete with pool toys, sodas and snacks (I made the guests bring their own), and girls.

That is what makes it a party; the presence of girls. I'm not talking the 11 year old sister of Alex who is a fixture at our house when the pool is open, I'm talking tall, pretty girls, with tinkling laughs and witty remarks. The girls that once they get there, the boys aren't quite sure whether or not they should talk to them. Mostly they do though, and it is fun to watch. Of course, this means that I have to spend the entire time outside observing teenage equivalent of peacock strutting. It goes more like this, "Watch this!" they yell as they cannonball off the diving board. Occasionally I have to remind someone that pushing other people in the pool is not allowed. The party lasted for about 4 hours at which point the teenagers all went to the snow shack and the 11-12 year olds came in and sat with their wet bums on my couch while they played Mario Cart.

By Sunday the water was warm, at least the top 6 inches were warm. Just as I predicted. And my day was packed and I didn't skip church to swim. By Tuesday the weather was cold again, in the 50's and rainy with hail storms.

I'm hoping that we can get the pool heater fixed soon and that it is totally cheap. I'm actually going outside in a minute with my tool box to see if I can figure it out. I'm sure I can, I've already fixed a clogged sink and flooded kitchen and a broken dishwasher in the past week. If not, well, we'll continue to be poolcicles until it warms up.

Men's Room

This past weekend I met up with my brother and two of my sisters in Phoenix to surprise my dad for his 70th birthday, which is actually today. Happy Birthday Dad!

Me and my Dad

We had a great time and it was fun to laugh with and talk with my siblings. Without the spouses and kids it reminded me of growing up together and we had a great time. It was wonderful to see my dad and his wife, Rosemary. I enjoyed spending time with them and visiting and the delicious food Rosemary made for us. It was an experience I wont soon forget.

Robin, me, Dad, David, Sally and Lainey

My sister Robin posted on her blog, http://robinblogz.blogspot.com/, about the trip a little and my misadventure into the men's restroom at a gas station. I would like to share the story from my perspective.

So we pull into the Shell station and head inside. I am busy gabbing away and not paying any particular attention to where I am going. My bladder is urging me on to the bathroom and I come to the door and open it, still talking to my sister. As I walk into the bathroom my thoughts go something like this, "Wow. This is a big bathroom", "Hmmm, there are urinals in this bathroom." "What's that? There is a man, using the urinals in this bathroom." By this time I am a good 5 feet into the bathroom. "Wait, is this the ladies room?" At which point I let out a high pitched "Ahggg" and turn and run out. As I leave, the man at the urinal, who probably has that public peeing anxiety, yells "F*** Off!" Which makes me laugh even more. My sister, Robin, hurried with me into the ladies room where we laughed at the angry urinal peeing man. Robin continued to laugh at me for walking into the men's room in the first place. I was afraid to leave the bathroom, for fear he would be waiting for me. But I think he was too embarrassed.

This is a problem for me. It is the third time I have done this. The first time I walked into a men's room there was no one in there. The second time was at Edward's theatre right after a show had let out and the bathroom was packed. That being the case, I didn't get very far because a bathroom packed with men is very different from a bathroom packed with women and the difference was so obvious that I knew immediately I had made a mistake. A bathroom packed with women is noisy, and there is a lot of standing and primping in front of the mirrors. A bathroom packed with men is quiet with a lot of standing, NO primping, and avoiding eye contact. It is a stark contrast. That time I managed not to squeal "Ahgg" and instead just silently turned myself around and left. I think the only people who saw me were the gentleman who opened the door for me and the one I passed on his way in as I was exiting.

I have of course, intentionally used men's rooms before. I've done this at conferences when the majority of people in attendance were women and there was no one using the men's room. I did this at the Yamaha Motorcycle shop when some unfortunate woman apparently required 45 minutes to do her business in the single stall woman's bathroom. I've done this at BYU Women's conference, and at an educational seminar. Perhaps it is all these explainable usages that seem to undermine my discernment when entering public bathrooms, resulting in angry peeing men shouting profanities at me.

Darn angry peeing men!

Dr. Butterfield

Today I went to the doctor. Not the ear, nose, throat doctor, but the "other" doctor. Yup. It's been 5 years since my last pap. I'm not going to go any further on that. I am writing about something altogether different that happened while at the doctors.

First, my regular (if you can call him regular when I haven't even seen him for FIVE years) doctor was unavailable, so they assigned me to Dr. Butterfield. Dr. Butterfield is probably in her late 50's or early 60's. She came in, smiled and shook my hand, introducing herself. Already I liked her; I didn't feel self-conscious sitting there naked covered only by my slit up the back "gown". We reviewed basic medical history and she didn't even comment on or chastise me for waiting 5 years to come in. I liked her even more.

As she looked over my chart she was asking questions and then she came to "exercise". I had truthfully written down that I engaged in practically no intentional exercise. To which she said, "I see here that you don't exercise." She said it with the same tone of voice as if she was saying, "I see here that you have two kids;" Nothing accusatory or insinuating.

I responded, "Not recently. I go in spurts".
Dr. Butterfield, "Okay, here you go" (handing me a sheet of paper), "You need to exercise 30 min a day, 6 days a week. This is the minimum required level of activity."

She went on to explain that 20 minutes of that needs to be in my target heart range, showing me how to find that on my handy little sheet of paper she'd given me.

I must have nodded or said something because she then said, "Okay, what's next?" and went on to my calcium intake. The calcium conversation followed a similar pattern.

The entire exchange was carried on in a manner that suggested she fully expected that not only was I on board with this whole exercise thing, but that it was a novel and exciting prospect to me. Not that she talked down to me, just very expectantly. I almost felt like laughing, and acquiescing. "Okay doc, I'll do it. 30 min/day, 6 days/wk. target heart rate – 20 minutes. No problem."

So anyway, now I've got to go. I need to get in 30 minutes before I go to bed.

Lemonade Stand

Today is our neighborhood's annual garage sale. It is always a huge affair and there are usually little traffic jams where the best sales are. I wanted to get some things together to sell, but what it comes down to is that I haven't had the time to devote to gathering, sorting, pricing, and I don't want to devote the time to setting up, sitting, and being a cashier. I want to spend my time shopping. Today I bought two black dog food dishes for my Scottish/Jack Russell Terrier, 5 Hardy Boys Mysteries, and "The Chronicles of Narnia". All for $3.50. I can't wait for tomorrow

My boys, also, want to shop. However the younger one, Rocky, has no money for shopping, so I have devised a plan for him to make some money to spend on garage sale day.

Abby, Hillary, and Rocky selling lemonade from our fabulous lemonade stand.

Rocky turns 12 this summer, so I better take these kinds of moments while I can, because I don't know that they will extend much beyond this summer. So, what do you say; a nice cool glass of lemonade for 25 ¢? And please tell me all about your favorite garage sale finds!

58 Degrees

The pool is cold. Yesterday one of the pool thermometers said 54 degrees, the other said 62 degrees. Today the weather is supposed to get into the high 80's; which is an amazing and totally fabulous prospect because winter was here last week. I know it was my sister, Robin, who moved to Colorado Springs, but I am certain that she sent some of their weather here.

So I bit the bullet and put the ugly solar blanket on the pool and cranked up the heater. It generally heats the pool 1 degree an hour. Now, I am not a major procrastinator, but planning 20 hours in advance is not something I do well. But…I did this time. Yay for me!

This morning I went out to check the pool temp. 58 and 66 degrees according to the two thermometers. I have no idea which one is correct. Furthermore, I have no idea why in the past 12 hours the pool temp has only gone up 4 degrees. I am thinking at this rate it will be swimmable on Sunday. I'm pretty sure that my day is packed on Sunday, Now, I don't want my kids to feel they can swim on Sundays (this is a rule we made when we bought a house with a pool), so I think if I bug out of church right after sacrament meeting, and skip YW (I have fabulous advisors), I can come home and lie in a nice warm pool for about an hour and ½ before I have to go back to church and get the boys (and they will never know). The problem with that is that my conscience would never allow me to do this. I would feel guilty for abandoning my responsibilities and spending the Sabbath in a less than appropriate way.

And since winter is coming back on Tuesday, I might just have to brave the cold water, knowing it will just get colder.

*******Some of you who read my blog may realize this post has been edited. That is because apparently someone thought I actually did ditch church to swim and I wanted to make sure no-one would be offended and think badly of me because of something I said in jest. (I did come home on this day with a bad headache and took a short nap before my afternoon meetings.) Please note that this blog is written with great humor and a desire to laugh at my own shortcomings.