Is It Graduation Season or Something?

Is there such a thing called graduation season?



I believe there are two ways to take in a graduation. Either watch it on someones blog (that way you don't have to sit through all of the blah blah parts and wear your hands out clapping quarter heartedly as each name is called........) or watch it the way my baby did. I'm not sure which got more attention. The 6th graders graduating or all of the parents sitting close by wishing they could curl up on a chair, flash red "McQueen" undies, and lay in a pile of drool as their metal chair sings a higher tune vibrating along with their accompanying bass snoring.




This native received the "Hope of America" award. There were four students chosen out of the entire 6th grade.



This native and one of his best friends were two of the four.



I'd like to present to you........the 6th grade graduating class of 2008-2009 and inform you........that you are no where near done with your schooling, in fact! You aren't even half way there! Today we played "dress up" and we'll do it again in another two years.......when you "graduate" from 8th grade.......and again in another four years.......when you "graduate" from high school.......all in preparation for when you truly graduate.....from college. Until then.......we will continue doing these mock graduations so that when the day finally comes and you do graduate from college you won't care and just ask to have your diploma sent to you in the mail only to have your mother yell at you insisting that you walk so that she can BLOG ABOUT IT!

Levi's Kindergarten Graduation. Take Two

Yesterday was Levi's Kindergarten graduation. We had Levi take Kindergarten again this year. We're afraid that since Levi has taken Kindergarten two years in a row, he will think that after every school year there is a graduation.



This is Levi's Kindergarten teacher. He loves Mrs. Thibault. Remember this post? I've refused to make him spaghetti ever since!



Actually, we love Mrs. Thibault too and are bummed Levi can't do Kindergarten until he is 18. Mrs. Thibault, you wouldn't mind would you? You'd make an exception for Levi wouldn't you? I thought so! Look for Levi graduating from Kindergarten again about this time next year. I'll be sure and post all about it.

In case you were wondering........

If ever you find yourself sitting on the front of a bike in one of these seats, flying down a mountain trail, you must do this as you pass people coming in the opposite direction:




I can't decide if the noise he is making is funny or disturbing.......

We're a Drippy Family

What do you do with a whole gaggle of kids on a holiday when the weather is perfect and you've got time in a day?



You spend a good hour getting every one's bikes tuned up (I say "you" cuz that would be where my SM comes in), you pack a lunch (I say "you" cuz that would be where having a helpful 10 year old comes in), you get everyone loaded up on their bikes, and you hit the trail.



The 25 (give or take) miles of trail. We started at our house and rode up to Bridal Veil Falls. The weather was perfect even though looming clouds threatened to ruin the day but they just bluffed. After we reached Bridal Veil Falls the SM knew we'd all have to put our exhausted bodies back on those bikes even though the coma state called, "I just had lunch and want to sleep now" was hitting strong so he pulled out the ice cream weapon.



On the way home we stopped at Macey's and got ice cream cones. (Our oldest native decided he'd rather spend his holiday with his cousin.......punk......)



This native named his ice cream "Fred".....and then he bit off his head.




Levi hasn't quite figured out that you eat the ice cream first....before the cone......or you've nothing to hold onto.



If you've nothing to hold onto, then you have to shove the whole thing into your mouth real quick but not before you get drips of ice cream all over.




Then again, even if you don't eat your cone first, it doesn't guarantee that you won't get drips all over despite your best efforts.

Candy apple RED nail polish and Memorials

When I think of my grandma, my dad's mom, the first thing that comes to my mind is candy apple RED nail polish. Not the orangy red stuff. It had to be RED. Blood dripping red. She had beautiful nails. I did NOT inherit her nails but I DID inherit her love of candy apple red. It is my favorite color.

I also inherited her love of hand work (my mom says that is where I got it from), and my love for off the wall craziness. My grandma had the best sense of humor.

I learned a great lesson from her. The last year of her life she spent in our home. She was dying of cancer and yet clear through to the end she kept her sense of humor.

Every year I place a bottle of candy apple RED nail polish on her grave. Her grave is in MT so the years I'm not able to visit on Memorial Day I make sure and have my mom and dad place a bottle of RED nail polish on for me.

Grandma! I'm thinking of you today and in your honor cuz I love and miss you tons!!! I'm painting my nails CANDY APPLE RED.....even if they are broken and cracked stubs.......and by this time tomorrow the paint will all be chipped off......I'm still honorin' ya lady!

She's got a style all her own.

One of the perks of having West Nile is I get to sleep in and my SM gets the kids up, makes them breakfast, and sees them off to school. Later, when they get home I get the privilege of seeing what they looked like all day.

A few days ago my baby girl had a concert. When I saw what she was wearing and how she'd "done" her hair I was trying to decide if my SM letting her wear what ever she wants and "do with her hair" what ever she wants is a good thing.

I have decided that yes, it is a good thing. I love that my baby girl put camo shorts with a dress with jewels and winter boots. It means she's still a kid and cares more about climbing trees then if her outfit matches and if her hair is snarly free.

Would someone please explain this.......

Why is there two empty containers put back in the fridge?




Because I have teenagers!

This is how we roll.........

A couple of weeks ago I took a test that tested my brain. What "age" was it functioning at. I tested in my 70's. My mother is in her 70's and while she was here last we were laughing at how we were both going through the same things.



Yesterday while out biking with my baby as we do most days we met an older couple on the river trail. I've passed them several times as we've gone in opposite directions and we call out our "hellos". Yesterday, we were both going in the same direction and so we chatted for a few minutes. The husband told me that he and his wife were in their mid 70's. He then said, "well, we're keeping you from your ride, we go kind of slow for old people". I assured him that no, this was how I roll. This was how fast I always went and we said our goodbyes as he and his wife continued on their way.........leaving me in their dust.

Can I just make one request? If I'm going to spend the rest of my life "elderly" can I have the wisdom that goes with it? Ya, ya. I know. I can just hear my mom's response as she laughingly will tell me, "Sure! You can have all the wisdom you want, you just won't remember it.........."

Mountain Biking

Years ago when my SM and I were dating and I was willing to try anything to impress him, he asked me to go mountain biking. The ride was an all day affair which started up Provo canyon riding behind "Y" mountain and ended coming out at Hobble Creek in Springville canyon.

Since this ride lasted many hours we were supposed to start early in the day but for some reason on this particular day we did a lot of inspecting of each other's faces in close proximity so we got a late start.

As the ride began I quickly came to realize this was not a joy ride. I kept thinking, "If only I can make it to the top of that next rise, then I can coast down the rest of the way" only that next rise was always followed by another rise. Brian would sit patiently waiting at the top of each as I labored my way slowly up. Thighs burning and lungs wheezing.

Finally we made it to the summit and I was never more excited. I thought I could sit back and fly down the mountain making up for lost time as dusk was fast approaching. Flying down the mountain and shale rock are not two ingredients that you mix. Teeth clenched, fingers clenched around the brakes, I went down with a lurching screeeeeeech, screeeeeeech, screeeeeeech my brakes screaming in complaint. Lurching and screeeeeeching your breaks also does not work on loose tiny pieces of shale rock so your bike starts to wobble but correcting it in loose shale rock only results in your bike going one way and you the other.

What I thought was going to be an easy decent turned out to be me walking next to my bike sliding in shale rock wondering when my SBF (sexy boyfriend) who was who knows where miles below me would figure out that I was no where to be had. I reached a bend in the road and there he was sitting patiently, as he had the entire ride waiting for me. He got off his bike and we continued walking like that for the rest of the entire ride which was going to take us even longer now since the "fast part" had now become the excruciatingly slow part.

As darkness descended upon us in a velvety thickness, the moon not yet up to provide illumination, we came to a pasture full of cows and their calves. Black cows.......and their babies. Growing up in the boonies where I did I knew that you do not come between mama cows and their babies. They have something to say about it and they don't start with niceties. Not being able to see a thing except black blobs here and there if they were up close, I got kind of scared. Okay, I got really scared and I did something I'd done while growing up out in the boonies. I started to beller Primary songs. I didn't care that my SBF probably thought I was a wimp and nuts. I'd learned early on about bellerin' Primary songs and knew that it worked and you know what? He bellered right along with me! I bet he was scared too. Ya think? I didn't think so either but it sure made me feel better when he obliged me and joined in.

You see, there were many times growing up that I'd "forget" to do a chore and then late at night when it was all pitch black dark my mother would lovingly remind me that I still needed to get that chore done........even if there were Bogey men behind every stinkin' bush from here to the next county and state even! So, I'd head outside just sure I was going to be snatched up and eaten alive and then wouldn't my mom be sorry she'd made me go out all alone excepting I wasn't ready to be sacrificed just yet so I'd beller Primary songs. You couldn't just hum or whisper them because then you could still hear rustling in the tall grass and bushes but if you bellered! Well then. Boy howdy! All of those Bogey men into the next county and state for that matter could hear ya and since it was Primary songs you were singing......wouldn't dare try to take a bite out of you because that would be sinning right?? And wasn't there some sort of protection, some sort of invisible force shield that was wrapped all around you when you sang Primary songs? Least that was what they taught me in Primary every Sunday. Least that was my interpretation when ever I was out bellerin' to the Bogey man.

"I got up my invisible force field........just like in Star Wars........you can't get me........cuz I'm singin' Primary songs..........". I didn't ever dare taunt the Bogey man though just in case there was some weakness to the force field that I didn't know about and so that night on the mountain walking with my SM I taught him all about bellerin' Primary Songs and you know what? Just like when I was a kid it worked! The Bogey men, cows and their calves went running over the hills to greener pastures and I sighed a big relief when we finally crossed a cattle guard and those mamma's and babies were well behind us.

Incredibly, my SBF asked me to go biking with him again! I bet it was for my voice. It certainly wasn't for my sea shells!

Pet Peeves

I have a pet peeve. Several actually but this one hit me in the face this morning as it does most mornings. Dirty dishrags.

Every morning I grab the dishrag and sniff it. If it has that ripe reasty smell which 10 out of 10 times it does.......then down it goes into the laundry to be bleached to death. Bleach is my friend. I love bleach. Remember bleach my friend? I've not talked about my friend bleach for awhile but we are still really good friends. Not close like we were last year, I'd decided to put some distance between us. A little healthy distance can be good in a relationship. Speaking of....I just read this post from last year and oh my goodness! What a year it has been! After reading this one you can see why we needed to cool it on our relationship. Me and bleach. Bleach and I.

Anyway, here is my pet peeve. No one in this wigwam (SM excluded) seems to get that a reasty raunchy rag smell isn't so great wiped all over the kitchen table, faces, hands, dishes, etc. cuz it transfers that blecky smell on to all surfaces! Nothing is worse then picking up a wash rag, washing your hands with it and then at some point bringing your hands to your face only to smell.........ugh.......THAT SMELL!

I try to throw the rags at the end of the day into the laundry but invariably somehow another shows up without my knowing and here we go again! My nostrils are assaulted!

What is some of your pet peeves?

What did you have for dinner last night?

This morning while I was feeding Levi breakfast he asked me, "Mom, you remember what we have for dinner last night? We have tacos with mayonnaise and whip cream. Mmm, they were good".

Funny, that isn't what I recall us having for dinner but then again, with my cooking I could see how it may have tasted as bad as a taco with mayonnaise and whip cream on it.........

Driver's License Renewal 101

Step one: Go in the afternoon when all of the goobers are out on probation trying to renew their licenses.

Step two: Bring your baby with that wants to know what that weird paint is on that guys legs and asks really loud "cuz it's messy"! (Tattoo)

Step three: After filling out all of the paper work make sure you get in the line with the guy who wants to tell you all about his wife telling him it was him or the cows and since all of his cows were dying he decided to get rid of them. This way you can be sure that several people who came in behind you will move forward in their lines while you are "stuck" listening to "The Tale of Two Biddies".

Step four: When your turn finally comes and your number is called make sure that your baby is sufficiently filled before hand with loads of water so that at that precise time he wails that he needs to go potty grabbing himself and crossing his legs making it impossible to ignore him. Telling him to "hold it" only results in him wailing, "I am howding IT".

Step five: After taking your baby potty get back in line and finally make it up to the nice lady who takes your money and then tells you to stick your forehead against the bar and read the first line of letters to you. Make sure while you are doing this that you baby bounces against your leg thus making you unsure if you are reading line one, two, three....

Step six: When you are finally able to get your photo taken make sure the town drunk is standing in line next to you.

Step seven: As you are sitting waiting to see your photo on the screen make sure and listen to the town drunk as he tells you exactly how to take a licence photo. (Slurring is a must) "You take your hair and mess it all up and then get a drunk look on your face. That way when the police pull you over for drunk driving they'll think that is what you always look like".

Step eight: Never pick the first photo. Ask to have your photo retaken so that the town drunk who is still giving you advice can look at your photo and declare that it looks just like the first and it looks great! To which you inform him that that is the first photo and if he weren't so snockered he'd be able to tell the difference. You then ask the lady behind the counter to take another dang picture and work some magic for crying out loud!

Step nine: After you give up and declare the camera broken because every photo of you is crappy, pick up your purse and baby and try to get out of the DMV but not before the guy behind the counter who told you about his cows he don't got no more makes some joke about you that the whole DMV gets but you don't.

Step ten: Once you have escaped the DMV building, climb into your car, drive very carefully because by now you are steaming at the whole experience and now understand why you are surrounded by so many freaky drivers and head straight to your local bakery and buy the biggest donut you can find that is smothered in chocolate. Inhale donut and then buy another for the road plus a dozen more because this is a blessed day. It is your husband's birthday and that is the best you can do cuz you've just spent hours with folks who control who drives on the freeway with you and if you thought you were scared before.....now you are very scared. Very very scared!

Iz busthed!

My dang dummm computer iz busthed so I'm borrowing my SM's for two seconds before he takes it away from me (the nerve......he has to do this "work" thing--like my blogging isn't IMPORTANT OR SUMPTIN').

Anyways, I dunno when it will be fixed so things are gonna be kind of sketchy.

Sniffle.....I feel like I've just had a tourniquet put on me arms......now what the heck am I gonna do with my time! :D

You are special because.........

Last night my baby girl had the lesson for Family Home Evening. For those of you who do not know what F.H.E. is.....it is an evening that you set aside once a week and spend it with your family. Turn off your phones if need be so you are not disturbed and dedicate an hour or so with time spent with just your family. Monday nights is our night. If you'd like to know more about F.H.E. you can go here.

My baby girl told us a story about a little girl who had been treated poorly and how she retaliated with acts of kindness. She then had us all make crowns that we gave to each other and as we placed them on each other's heads, we told that person what we thought was so special about them.



My SM made this one. I'm thinking the pretty tulip in the background may have been a source of inspiration....what do you think? My SM picked Levi. He said Levi is always happy. Even when he is sad he can turn around in two seconds and be happy again. This is what makes Levi so special.




Native number 4 made this one. He put birds on it. Pretty cool with the blue background. He gave his to native number 7 and told him that he always makes me laugh and he is fun to play with. This is what makes him special.



Native number 1 made this crown with the secret message "friend" and "King of the World" in code that native number 4 had to figure out when it was placed on his head and told that what makes him special is, he is really fun to play with and always makes me laugh.




Native number 2 made this one. I like the swirls, smiley faces, and stars. He placed this on native number 3's head and said that he is a really good artist. This is what makes him so special.



My baby girl made this two toned beauty that was placed on her daddy's head and told him that he is special because he is her daddy and she loves him.



Native number 3 made this one and placed it on his sister's head. She was supposed to figure out what MAD stands for. After yesterday I thought I had a pretty good idea. We still haven't figured it out. A-stands for Awesome. We got that much figured out so what ever she is......she's AWESOME and is a lot of fun to play with.




I made this "royal" crown and placed it on native number 1 and told him that he is a hard worker and obedient. This is what makes him special.




Levi with the help of daddy made this tulip crown which when it was placed on native number 2's head we told him he was "Aladdin" as the tulip kept falling down in his face. Levi told this native he loved him. That is what made him so special.




My baby who loves "Thomas" made this one with the help of his daddy, my SM. I was the lucky recipient. I'm special "cuz I do".

Not bad for an 8 year old planning and giving a lesson all on her own. I have to second what each of the kids and my SM said and say that I think they are all pretty special.........cuz I do!

Happy Blasted Mother's Day!

For those mothers that read this blog did you have a good day yesterday? Were you spoiled rotten as you so deserve? Did your children make you homemade cards that melted your heart? My hope and wish is that you said a loud and exuberant, "YES" to all of these. My hope and wish also is that you received home made cards that melted your heart and not a card like this:



Pretty isn't it? Those tulips.....when I got the card I thought it was so precious!



And when I saw this it melted my heart! Isn't that just precious? And then I opened the card..........



I busted up laughing! "O" means only that she's growing old. Okay so it wasn't as if my daughter actually wrote this right? It was just some paper she cut up and pasted in the card. I couldn't wait to see what my precious baby girl had written to me so I looked to the other page and was met with this:



Dear Mom, this is not a good day because first I coudint find my shose 2nd you didint Let me where my black drees 3rd you didint let do a puzzle! love Kirsten
P.S. I put away my shose!

Yesterday when I was doing my baby girl's hair for church she told me through tears, "this is the worst Mother's Day EVER"! I had the nerve to get after her for not putting away her shoes so she couldn't find them.........she'd wanted to wear a play dress to church and I wouldn't let her......and then to top it off!!! When we got to church I wouldn't let her play with a puzzle during the meeting!!!

I am going to keep this priceless card in a safe place. Someday when my baby girl is having babies of her own.......and Mother's Day comes around.......I am going to give it back to her. I hope she gets as big a kick out of it as I did.

Today is opening day! I'm so excited. I love this place! Don't know what to do today? May I make a suggestion? You won't be sorry!!!

Let's play, "I spy" and see if you can find me amongst all of the vendors. I'll give you a hint. If you hear any loud squawking and see feather's flying I'm probably close by and I'll be pleading with who ever's display I've just knocked over that "I'm sorry, I didn't do it! I'm just clumsy"!!!!!

My name is Ferdinand.

When I was a little girl we had this book. I wore out it's cardboard cover with all of the times I opened it and read the story between its weathered and worn pages. I'd sit and look at the pictures and marvel as the story unfolded. I never grew tired of it even when I knew what was going to happen.




Yesterday was a perfect day for exploring so my baby and I loaded up on my bike and we headed off. As we tooled along we came across some of these and all I could think about was Ferdinand and I understood like I did back when I was a child.



I wanted to stop my bike and plunk right down there in the road and just smell the flowers.



Just call me Ferdinand.........

Book Review

I've been reading this book and I am here to tell ya.......you need to read it. When I first started reading this book I was thinking along the lines of "for my children" but realized as I continued to read that this book is talking to children and adults.

I read a chapter about attention deficit disorder last night and how being in nature can help with that and so many other handicaps and disorders. Like animal therapy (dogs, cats, horses, etc.) institutions are starting to use nature therapy.

As I was reading my thoughts went to Levi but then as I continued to read I thought about myself and the struggles I've been having. Might this not help me as well?

The statistics in the book are staggering.

Soo, as I start to feel the rug being yanked out from under me again I think I am going to turn to nature for therapy. I'm going to go and plunk myself down in my back yard and stare at the "native plants" that have crept into all of my flower beds since last I weeded two years ago.

Conversations with a two year old....

Sitting right behind my house is a field that I not only enjoy but I pretend that I own. Two fields actually separated by a ditch that the natives spend hours playing in. We'll talk about the ditch another day. Today, I'm talking about the North field. The field that has sat dormant all winter but this spring the farmer has taken his disks and tilled that sucker under adding odoriferous.......let's see. How do we put this delicately cuz I'm a lady. That which was once green then chewed and is still green but no longer resembles what it once was when it entered a four legged creature which produces the milk which we put on our cereal every morning. Get my drift? I mean not MY drift.....my point. Cow patties, cow pies, crispy frisbies, etc.

Anyway, the farmer comes every spring, he covers the field in "fertilizer" and then disks it under. When you are three years old, ten years old, twenty, thirty, aww heck big machinery is always fascinating.

A few days ago the farmer who happens to be two farmers, father and son came in separate tractors. One with the fertilizer and the other with the disks to turn it all over into rich soil. As they drove past my windows my three year old heard the tractors and went running to the North window, climbed up on the back of a chair there, and pushed aside the curtains so he could watch.

Native: Twacturs mommy! Two twacturs.

Mom: Oh cool! What are they doing?

Native: Dey stoppt.

Mom: Are they talking to each other? (I meant the drivers.)

Native: No, twacturs don't have moufs. Dey can't talk, but dey have wheels!

Silly me, guess I've been watching too much "Thomas the Tank Engine" with my baby and I got carried away thinking all engines could talk! I'm sure glad my baby cleared that up for me because that could have been really embarrassing. Folks around here might hear me talking to my truck and then they'll start thinking I was crazy or something!!

I am too a lady dangit!

My Sexy Man makes thee best grilled burgers. I love em. I love em. I snarf em. He says it is funny to watch me have to open my little mouth so wide to get such a big sandwich inside. He didn't call my mouth little but I knew that is what he meant.

He thought if he took a picture of me snarfing that he'd have proof but may I point out to all of you that not only am I taking a little lady of a bite (come on, I'm eating a burger for cryin' out loud. I can't take too little of a bite) my little pinky is raised in such a lady like fashion as well! Sniff!

Hungry?

Then go here and make some of these....... I know! It looks like a regular ol' tulip in a pot doesn't it? It's not. I promise and when I served it to "the ladies" yesterday at book club they looked at me like I was plum crazy when I told them to dig in! I had to prove it by shoving my spoon into the "dirt" taking a bite first. Like I'd poison my guests! The very idea........



Or go here and make this........I promise. You won't be disappointed. As you can see, I had to hurry and take a photo of this deliciousness before it was inhaled......




by this guy. Not one of the ladies by the way.....this is after the guests left and when I wasn't looking he decided to dish himself up some cake. He's learned it is better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission. Actually, he doesn't know what asking for forgiveness means. He just looks at you innocently with his cheeks packed full and says, "what's your name"? He's learned to talk fast and furious when he's in doo doo. Change the subject.....good one. I wonder where he learned that from........and the doctor's say he's mentally handicapped.......