It was missing something.....

Before.

After.

A knight?

As I was cleaning out Mark's backpack I discovered a piece of paper with Mark's writing assignment. Mark wrote:

"I'd be really rich. I'd marry a princess."

Not sure what the original question was, but I think he has knight in shining armor aspirations.....Its always good to raise the bar....I think....

Our latest obsession.....

Scissors.

Yes, she has found the scissors. Yes she likes to use the scissors. Yes on Friday she decided that cutting limited to paper was entirely too overrated. The result, a large hole in BOTH legs of her leggings, along with a matching hole in her dress.

I am taking bets on how long before she cuts hair....either her own, or the barbie, or both.

Lazy, Lazy, Lazy

As you know the regular pace of our lives is frantic on a good day, and complete insanity on a bad day. So with the approach of the three day weekend, and no commitments, and no plans, I decided we would vacation at home. (Especially since being home is a luxury, and my house is a playground. Literally.) We even skipped church on Sunday. I know bad....but it was stake conference and Lauren would have been on the stand singing with the primary, leaving me with Mark and Katie, ALONE on metal chairs for three hours. (Technically stake conference was only two hours, except Lauren was to be there an hour early, which would make the stake conference experience three hours for me.) Jeff and Linda were out of town so I didn't have re-enforcements. I decided that even with Ipads, three hours would exceed manufacturer's specified recommendations for Mark and Katie.

Lauren and I decided it would be a 70's retro weekend. We started on Friday night with Battlestar Galactica and watched a few episodes. We continued Saturday until we watched the ENTIRE show, finishing at about 1:00 a.m. Sunday morning. After getting a few hours of sleep we started in on season one of Charlie's Angels....lets just say between Sunday and Monday we made a significant dent in season one.....

While the cats were watching TV, the mice were playing in the basement.

Yep, pretty trashed.

More mice playing.....

It was nice and relaxing. On Monday I decided I should justify my existence, and I sorted through my DI stuff, and itemized it for tax purposes, and took an SUV full to the DI. I also made the kids clean up on Monday night and do some homework.

We are all re-charged and ready to take on the week!

Lauren's Birthday , Part 2

If you were lucky enough to get one of these....you were invited to Lauren's friend birthday party. Trust me it is a coveted invitation, especially if you know the type of parties Lauren's mom throws.....

There was a cool gift bag for each attendee.

Adorable cupcakes.

For her birthday Lauren chose to take her friends to a studio called "Color me mine." It is pottery that you paint and then it gets fired, leaving you with fantastic artwork.

Here are the girls working on their mugs.

After painting it was cupcakes, punch and games, including the Magic 8 Ball.

A few of the finished products. (The dishes are mine, after all why should those girls have all the fun? )

It's Birthday Time - part 1

Happy Birthday Lauren! This is part one of the birthday festivities. The family party.

Lauren and her presents. Yes say it now, she is spoiled....

Rather than go out to dinner, Lauren wanted everyone to come to the house and have Rick make her favorite food, which is spaghetti with mizartha cheese.

Super cute headbands she received from Arianne. FYI, Katie is extremely jealous.

A Barbie. FYI, Katie is extremely jealous.

Lauren's favorite gift, a blinged out case for her Ipad.

Time for birthday cake. (It was also Linda's birthday, but we are on the down low this year, because it was a BIG one....and Linda does not want to discuss it...)

And we topped off our birthday by sucking the helium out of a balloon. Honestly I don't think it gets better than this!

Attitude lives at my house.

Attitude lives at my house, and its name is Katie. Katie believes it is her moral obligation to remind me on a daily basis the inadequacies of my parenting skills. The current lecture I am receiving is about her not getting a Fun Dip for Valentines day.

On Sunday night we put together her Valentines for pre-school the following day. The Valentine consisted of a little Valentine card attached to a Fun Dip. I made sure each child in her class had a Valentine. When I picked her up from pre-school on Monday the first thing I heard was that I had failed to address a Fun Dip Valentine to her. Now its not that Katie did not get Fun Dips, because several of her class mates gave her Fun Dips, and she knew that we had left over Fun Dips at home. It was my forgetting to make sure Katie gave herself a Valentine. Every person she met for the next 48 hours was told of the Fun Dip slight, and my inadequacies as a parent. The worst part, she said it with such a indigent, self righteous attitude, that after a two minute conversation you really would believe I was the worst parent on the planet.

I can hardly wait until she is 13.........

Each day is a gift.

Each day is a gift. This is a saying on my wall right above a picture montage of Lauren eating dirt when she was 18 months old.

Ten years ago today that beautiful creature entered my life. I had no idea that one brief moment in time would change me forever. Nothing before her birth, or since her birth, has had such a dramatic impact on my life. NOTHING. The arrival of Lauren was not only a new chapter in my life, it allowed me to heal and close wounds left from my mother's death. Lauren completed me.

From the beginning Lauren had lessons to teach me. First, timing. Lauren was due on March 5, 2001. Now being the planner that I am, I had carefully timed out her birth. You see I had items on my agenda for the month of February that simply could not be re-scheduled. Arianne was set to get married at the end of April, so Lauren had about a 10 day window of time between February 27, 2001 and March 8, 2001 that her arrival was allotted to. She missed that memo....

In early February 2001 she decided she was done, and the world was ready for her. She grew in two weeks what it should have taken her six weeks to grow. The bun was done, the oven was being turned off. My doctor gave me a choice to be induced either February 14, 2001 or February 15, 2001. I elected to avoid a Valentine baby and chose February 15, 2001, besides it was Linda's 50th birthday, and Lauren's arrival would double as a birthday present.

On to the hospital for our 6a.m. call. As Rick and I were walking in, a women and her husband rushed past us to admitting "claiming" to be having a baby. Apparently the nurses believed her because they rushed her off, and during the few minutes we were in admitting we heard the mother scream and the baby cry.

Now I had these grand plans that while cruising through labor I would watch all 13 hours of the HBO series "From the earth to the moon" which I had video taped in anticipation of giving me something interesting to watch. What NO ONE told me is that while in labor it is a bit difficult to concentrate, even with an epidural. Unfortunately this series required concentration. It was great for Rick, he was totally entertained. I made a note to myself, "next child bring Danielle Steele movies."

It was during labor that I discovered what a high pain threshold I truly had. I had told the nurse when I checked in that as soon as it was possible for me to have an epidural I would like one. I had NO grand illusions of natural child birth. I am all about the DRUGS. Well apparently my instruction must have been filed in the circular file, because after about 6 hours of labor, pit drip included, I decided I could not tolerate the pain any longer and asked the nurse how much longer it would be before I could get an epidural. Her replay "Oh honey, you could have had that a while ago, you have been having strong contractions for quite some time." All I have to say on that matter is it was a good thing she was standing on the OTHER side of the room when she said that......otherwise my title might have changed from criminal prosecutor to criminal defendant.

Awww the epidural. Pain free at last. Then the nausea began. Did I mention my bodies natural reaction to pain of any kind is nausea? Well I will spare you the details, but lets just say every 15 minutes, you could set a clock by me. By 5:00 p.m. my doctor was concerned my labor was not progressing. My cervix was only dilated to a three and had not progressed in three hours. It was looking like a C-section. I was devastated by this news. You have to understand a C-section was NEVER a thought in my mind when it came to child birth. The women in my family, (well me excluded) have these great birthing hips, so I naturally assumed a baby would simply slide right on out. I didn't even know anyone in my family who had a C-section. WE JUST DON'T DO THAT. Apparently my cervix is not exactly where it is supposed to be, which makes it impossible for the baby's head to push down and dilate the cervix. Who knew???

After getting over the initial shock that I would most likely being having a C-section, I resiged to my fate. Now mind you I am still throwing up, or rather dry heaving. Around 6:30 p.m. they wheeled me into the operating room and began to prep me and the baby. Since my epidural has not worn off, no need for a spinal block. (Although I now know from subsequent C-sections, a spinal block is the way to go, because your stomach mussels can't contract, hence no throwing up/dry heaving.) I recall lying on the operating table, buck naked, sick to my stomach, with about 20 people milling around me. I thought to myself "I really should be bothered about this situation, but oddly enough, I really don't care."

I continued to dry heave. Rick and doctor enter, dry heave. The doctor cuts into me, dry heave. The doctor removes Lauren and she begins to cry, dry heave. I see her in the incubator about 10 feet away from me I cry, then I dry heave. They start putting me back together, dry heave. They wheel me into recovery, dry heave. (Again, had I had the wisdom I now have, I would have DEMANDED the anistologist give me anti-nausea medication. Let me tell you by the time I got to Katie's birth, not a dry heave to be found. Drugs are a wonderful thing.)

As I am sitting in recovering, I am still dry heaving of course, and they ask if I want to hold my baby...."NO. Give her to her father!" I feel like I have been run over by a 10 ton truck. I can't stop dry heaving, and the last thing I want to do is hold what caused this problem to begin with. At this point Rick is a bit concerned about my bonding with the baby.....and probably justifiably so....

Finally about two hours after she was born I was ready to hold her. By this time she has become acquainted with Rick, Grandpa Hales, Grandma Hales and Ciarran, but still has not yet met her mother. It was time. I held her as they wheeled me from recovery to my room, still dry heaving of course. It was late, I sent her to the nursery for the night. I might have gotten some sleep if those dang nurses had not been interrupting my R.E.M. every 20 minutes with blood pressure and temperature checks. Finally about 5:00 a.m. Rick yelled at the nurses to leave me alone. Got three good hours of sleep. I was ready to face the world, and check out my child.

She was gorgeous. Full head of dark hair, Rick's dimples, and a cute button nose. Best part, she liked me, even though I had dissed her the night before.

Now 10 years later she still likes me. Gone is the dark hair, its of course blond, the dimples still exist, and I think she still has a cute button nose. She is graceful, elegant, and had exceeded every expectation I ever had. In one word she is a delight, and it is delightful to be her mother.

I often tell her that she will NEVER understand how I feel about her until she has her own baby. She looks at me like I am crazy, because she doesn't get it, nor do I expect her to get it. One day she will get it, and hopefully I am right there by her side, reminding her that each day is a gift, even if you are dry heaving.....

Happy Valentines Day!

Happy Valentine's Day, from our house to yours!

If you come to our house you can...

Pout because your brother is licking the pink frosting and you are stuck with the white,

or enjoy a yummy almond flavored sugar cookie!
Now go hug someone you love!

Oh, I am liking this....

This is a pre-view for a new Broadway production set to open in the spring called Wonderland, as in Alice in Wonderland, but with a new twist, you know like that story could be even more twisted....

Its giving me NYC fever....not a good thing.... I am quite sure its going to be as big as Wicked, which is one of my all time favorites.

Critical Mass

So sorry if you had contact with me in the last 48 hours.....it probably was not a pleasant experience.

My life which usually runs on an insanity scale of about an 8 out of 10, reached a 10+++. Pretty much no one was safe from my wrath. My problem is I let things build up, and then it is usually something really minor causes a nuclear explosion, leaving those in the wake to wonder "really??"

The source of stress: a business deal I am working on. I am trying to buy something, that another individual is selling. We have been hammering out the details. I have been working feverishly for the last few weeks trying to pull this together. (You know like I don't have anything else in my life, like three kids, a full time job, a house to maintain, a church calling, Lauren's impending birthday....etc., if you read my blog you know....)

I have acted in good faith. I have done everything asked of me, in a timely manner I might add. This week I made a request of the seller, a request that was reasonable and not uncommon in this situation, and the seller said "no." It was the last straw, my very last nerve, and I lost it.

Completely, and entirely lost it. Told the seller my motivation to meet THEIR deadline, had come to a screeching halt. Told the seller I would complete our deal when I was good and ready to complete our deal, and that I might not even complete our deal, because they were not the only vendor of this product. I was MAD. I am still MAD. And quite frankly rightfully so. For a month now my stress level has reached unparalleled new heights, to the point that I am grinding my teeth at night and waking up unable to move my jaw or chew. Honestly I do not need this, them or their product in my life. Nothing is worth that kind of stress, especially in light of all the wonderful things I do have in my life.

Now combine that with work....usually my board has 3-4 difficult cases. This week 20 out of the 25 cases were difficult. As in mind numbingly difficult. I love my job, and it was just the roll of dice, you never know what a case is going to be like until you start digging in and working it. By the time I finished my board meeting yesterday I was completely spent.

So last night I decided to go to Relief Society. I thought with the rough two days I had that some spiritual enlightenment might ground me. The topic was "Where you heart is," something I thought would help me to refocus. Wrong. First we all HAD to divide into groups and do skits. I did not go to Relief Society to be participatory, I wanted to be feed. I had been WAY too participatory in the last two days, I needed to be FEED. After the skits, it was a lecture by the Relief Society president on how we spend our time, and all the things we SHOULD be doing. Great guilt to go along with all my stress.

Actually I did not feel guilty, it just ticked me off, because she has NO tolerance for anyone who choose to do things with their time different from how she would chose to spend her time. In her mind no matter what stage of life you are in you have time for missionary work, genealogy, etc., and the time I spend on the Internet reading blogs, connecting with friends on facebook, or relaxing is wasteful. So you know that experience I had on Monday night when I read a blog that helped me to clarify a spiritual issue I had been struggling with was a complete waste of time because I was not reading my scriptures, and nothing good can come from reading anything that is NOT published by Church. In fact I believe in her mind Deseret Book might be questionable.

So after telling us we do wasteful things with our time she then stated the name of a man and said he was in our ward. She asked the sisters who knew him to raise their hands. One sister raised her hand. A couple of other sisters after conferring with each other raised their hand and said they knew who he was. She then proceeded to tell us he has been attending our ward for three months, and has no family and very few friends, and that it was sad that so few sisters in the room knew who he was. In other word she was "shaming" those of us who did not raise our hands.

Then I got ticked off again. I don't have an elitist ward. Quite the contrary, my ward is very friendly. I can tell you names of every new sister in my ward in the last year. I can tell you something about them, because I have a conversation with EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. I am not alone. I have seen other sisters welcoming the new sisters.

What the Relief Society president failed to realize is the cultural realities of being Mormon. We as sisters seek after other sisters. We generally don't look around sacrament meeting checking out the men, and saying "I don't know that man, perhaps I should go introduce myself, and invite him to dinner." (Well at least if you are in a family ward, that is probably different in a singles ward!) Now if I found myself sitting next to a man I did not know in sunday school, or sacrament meeting or even at a ward function, I would most certainly introduce myself and inquire about him, but Mormon women in family wards, DON'T seek out men they don't know. Its simply not done in our culture. SO QUIT IMPOSING YOUR SHAME AND GUILT ON ME, and go leture the Priesthood about taking care of their own.

I think I will hide in a cave for the next few days, I am not fit for public consumption.

We earn our reputation, dang it!

As previously stated we have quite the reputation in our ward during Sacrament meeting. Add this one to the list.


On Sunday Katie, not satisfied with just any old piece of Sacrament bread, had to dig through EVERY piece of bread in the tray, in order to locate the largest piece of bread. I tried to stop her but the girl is just too fast and too stubborn. My apologies to those who had the tray after us.....

When all is quite...

Ok, she does not wear the crown to bed, but the eye mask, yes.

I have never doubted from the moment of Lauren's arrival, that my mother had a hand in picking her out. It just something that as a mother I know. In many ways we are alike and in many ways we are different, but the one thing we have always been is close.

One of the ways we are alike, is this child is a night owl. Has been since day one. (Again another reason I believe my mother picked her out. She would NEVER send me a morning child, that would be cruel and unusual punishment, even for MY past bad deeds.) Lauren has finely tuned the practice of obstruct and delay when it comes to bed time. She practices her piano while I put Mark and Katie to bed and finishes her piano practice about the time those two are safely tucked in. Then she wants to "chat" or she wants to watch something on TV with me, in a nut shell she want to hang out with her mom, and get her mom's undivided attention. I don't blame her. And truth be told I like hanging out with her. I like learning about things she likes, I like telling her about things I like, I like hearing about her friends, I like laughing at stupid stuff on TV with her, I like knowing about what annoys her, I like planning things we are going to do together. I like being a part of her life.

Right now it's so much fun. At 9, excuse me almost 10, she still thinks I am "cool." She still wants to be my friend. She still cares about what I tell her. She still thinks I have good taste. She is not embarrassed by me. She wants to hang out with me.

I know its not going to last....I know in a few years I will not be as "cool" or "hip" or have such good taste. I know I will probably be an embarrassment, and hanging out with me will not be something she wants to do that often.

So I am trying to savor the moment while it lasts. Trying to build a foundation to sustain her through rocky teenage years, hoping that during those rough waters occasionally she will still want to hang out with her mom, that I will not be a complete embarrassment.

A foundation so that after she gets through those teenage years, she will recall that perhaps her mom knew more than she thought. A foundation for her life.

With any luck in 10 years or so, she will again think I am "cool," or "hip" or that I have good taste. She will want to have late night talks with me, watch stupid stuff on TV, ask my advice, tell me her problems, and let me be a part of her life.

So yes, in the quite moments of the night we are working on our future.

Each life that touches ours....

The tabernacle in Paris Idaho.

When my dad died a little over a year ago there was no question who would be the speaker at his funeral, it would be Lawrence Wasden. Lawrence was my dad's home teacher for years. It was a inspired pairing. My dad loved to talk politics, and Lawrence lived politics. When my dad and Lawrence became separated by a ward boundary change, Lawrence still continued to come and visit my dad, no longer out of obligation, but out of friendship.

Lawrence began his talk at my dad's funeral by recalling that about a week before my dad died he had this feeling that he needed to go visit my dad. He got busy and distracted with life and did not act on that feeling. Then a week later he gets the call that my dad has passed away. He expressed his regret that he had not stopped, paused and acted. As I sat on the stand I thought about my own busy, demanding life and how often a thought of another person had popped into my mind, and I, like Lawrence, in the demands of life, brushed it aside. I resolved to do better, to be better, to stop, pause and act.

I am trying. I have a dear neighbor who lives just down the street. She is a wonderful lady, 102 to be exact, and well on her way to 103, (May 25). She is sharp as a tack, slow to move, and hard of hearing. A telephone conversation with her is difficult at best, and a visit in person needs to be kid free with lots of speaking loud. (At least I am good at that, the speaking loud, the kid free not so much...)

Iris is her name, and she and I are cousins. We not only share a polygamist grandfather, we come from the same wife, and that wife only had two children. Iris comes from one of those children and I came from another. Several years ago Iris gave me the privilege of reading her life history, and it explained sooooo much....I have decided I will pick nature over nurture any day of the week. We are two peas in a pod. Iris loves politics and as a single lady ran around in the political circles of Washington DC in the 1930's. Then a charming lawyer swept her off her feet, but did not derail her running in political circles, even after having a children. She was a single mom during WWII, while her husband was fighting in the war, and a society bell in the 1950's. After her time in DC ended she moved to Palm Springs in the 1960's, where her charming lawyer husband became quite a lawyer to the stars. She has traveled extensively, been and done just about everything, including meeting the Queen of England.

Above all Iris is graceful and elegant. At 102 she dyes her hair, and never leaves the house without being dressed to the "nines" with red lipstick, of course. She is a true lady in every sense of the word. I want to be Iris when I grow up.

Iris has been on my mind lately,....like a lot. I keep thinking I need to go visit with Iris. Then life gets in way, and I am reminded of what Lawrence said at my dad's funeral, stop, pause and act. I had run into the young couple that lives in Iris' house and helps care for her, and I inquired about Iris and they told me they though she was slowing winding down. Now that feeling I was having to visit Iris was even more pressing. Finally last week Iris was at Church. (She doesn't get out a whole lot in the winter, she does not want to slip and fall.) I took the opportunity to schedule a visit. Thursday was the agreed upon day.

I arrived yesterday afternoon. Iris told me I was a day early. After I convinced her it was Thursday, not Wednesday, she apologized for not being dressed in her usual fashion, and could not believe she had lost a whole day somewhere. We started our visit by talking about all our relatives in common, looking at pictures of homes she and other relatives grew up in, along with pictures of those relatives. Iris gave me a picture of the tabernacle in Paris Idaho, since our common relatives hail from Paris.

She asked about my life, my kids, and I in return inquired about her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. We told stories, we laughed, we enjoyed each other. Several times during the conversation Iris told me she could not believe she was still alive at 102, and "for the life of me I can't figure out why the Lord has allowed me to remain here."

Then our conversation drifted to more spiritual things. We talked about prayer. Iris told me that every day she prays to live a courageous life, a gracious life, and a grateful life. I paused. I thought. Her comment lingered in my mind. A courageous life, a gracious life and a grateful life. Wow. That is exactly the life she lives.

I wrapped up my visit, it was time to pick the kids up from school. Iris thanked me for coming, and I thanked her for sharing with me, and we promised to visit again soon.

As I walked the short distance to my house I thought about my visit. Despite the cold temperature, I felt very warm, very full, and very grateful for the pearls of wisdom Iris had just given me.

A courageous live, a gracious life, a grateful life. That is the life I want. I know why the Lord has allowed Iris to remain here, she has a lot to teach those who stop, pause and act.

Toy Story 3

Here is the conversation I had with Katie this morning as we were getting dressed to head over to grandma's house.

Katie: Grandma does not have Toy Story 3.
Me: That's too bad.
Katie: Can you buy Toy Story 3?
Me: We already have Toy Story 3.
Katie: No! Can you buy Toy Story 3 for grandma for her birthday?

Nothing like a little self interest involved in the purchase of a birthday present for grandma. Perhaps grandma might also like the Barbie from Toy Story 3?

Every. Single. Night.

With the arrival of Ikea in Utah several years ago I stumbled across their completely cute, colorful and plastic dinnerware. "Perfect." I thought. "How fun to have such cute colored plates, bowls and cups for the kids to use." With of course the added benefit of the indestructibility of plastic, a necessary must for my kids.

Enter: Reality. Yes the plates, bowls and cups are cute and colorful, which is EXACTLY the problem. Every. Single. Night., there is a fight over the green plate. One, or sometimes two of my children end up crying because they did not get to eat dinner off of the green plate. You know dinner off of the blue or orange plate just doesn't taste the same. Just ask my kids, they will testify to this.

The insanity had to stop. My goal for 2011 was to simplify my life, and eliminate unnecessary stress.

Meet my new red dinnerware. Just as plastic as the Ikea stuff, but all the SAME color. Every child gets the same bowl, same plate, same cup.

Do we fight over the color of our plate? No. Now we fight over who gets the "first" plate. Because you know that the food on the second and third plate does not taste the same as the food on the first plate. Just ask my kids they will testify to this.

Arrrrruuuggggg!