#7

We live in a desert, not Outback Chocolate Cake, a semi-arid climate favorable to lizards and sagebrush. Except this spring it has rained and rained and rained and raine... there are still ski resorts open and flooding is eminent.

Sunday at dinner #7 announced, "Today is not Sunday!" We all gazed at him, "It's Rainday, not Sunday!" He took a bite of his pickle and Banana pepper sandwich (he refuses to eat meat), "Duh, it's raining!"

Adorable Hubby and I looked at each other and shrugged, you can't argue with that kind of logic.


Yesterday #7 asked Adorable Hubby, "Is Lady GaGa real?"

"Ummm..." said Adorable Hubby looking my way for a help. He got a shrug from this Boy Mom, I believe in Lady GaGa like Utahans believe in too much rain.

Manic Monday

Remember that song????


It's just another manic Monday (oh-woe)
I wish it was Sunday (oh-woe)
'Cause that's my Funday (oh-woe)
My I don't have to runday (oh)
It's just another manic Monday.

Me too, love the Bangles

Walk like an Egyptian...

The Bangles remind me of a college roommate. Every morning she washed and blow dried her hair, then ratted it out with a 1/2 can of Aqua Net. It was gloriously big and messy and wonderful. I admired her moxie, she was the whole, 80's Girl package and she thought I had nice calves...




We all had nice calves in the 80's because, hello...




What God and freakishly high heals didn't give us, fishnets and leg warmers covered up.

Wow! Tangent!

Uhhhh....

Oh! Random stuff going on, that's what I was going to blog about.

You can always tell I've dedicated myself to finding the laundry room floor when you end up with one of these long rambling, random posts. If only public nudity wasn't so frowned upon you would be spared all this.

I've had some great Mothers day gifts. From a homemade butterfly ring, to a funeral spray (now that was a thoughtful gift that the next lucky recipient will never suspect I re-gifted). This year I got three darling cards from three darling boy that will forever be my babies. #5 worked really hard on his, it opened the wrong way (precious) pictured a crepe paper sun and flower and said:

Mom,

I am like the flower growing in the light of the sun (you).

Oh, and you are as sweet as this Kit Kat bar.


A mini Kit Kat bar was taped beneath the last line.

"Oh, sweetie that's so nice of you!" I said.

He gave me a hug, a kiss and an angelic smile, "I know, can I have the Kit Kat bar?"



Baseball season is in full swing...Ha, get it??

Sorry!

Four games a week, four practices a week, farmers tans and late dinners; but, so worth the $80.00 a kid to watch your six year old pick dandelions and chase butterflies with his cleats untied and his pants on backwards. Luckily his shirt hangs down past his knees and he can't keep it tucked in so I'm the only one who knew his pants were on backwards, or so I've convinced myself.

The weather: The weather needs to be admitted to the lock down unit and heavily medicated. I can handle warm days and cool days, sunny days and rainy days; but, warm, cool, rainy, sunny days all on the same day???

My yard is NOT coming along at all. I put on capri's and a t-shirt, head out, trowel in hand, to frigid temperatures and rain. I go in and change to jeans, a sweatshirt and wool socks walk out and it's 80 and sunny. That's why the only planting I've accomplished are the planters on my front porch. I can't seem to make it past my front porch with out a wardrobe change. My front porch is really cute this year.

I got to chat with Missionary boy ( #1 son) on Mothers day. He's amazing, so grown up and content to serve and love and learn. Except for the Mothers Day when #5 was born, talking to my #1 goes down as the best Mothers Day gift to date.

Now why didn't I post that last bit up with the Mothers Day stuff?

I'd really like to get into a pair of these,without endangering myself and others when I moved. Bits of metal and rhinestones, with an unknown trajectory, fired at a high velocity from the backside of a 40 something mom with a junk food habit is an act of terrorism in most states. Don't take my word for it, call your local Homeland security officer.

I'd settle for a pair of these.


Only without the holes and the shoes that are an ER trip in the making...unless, tripping in the shoes is supposed to explain the holes?? But why is one pant leg rolled up higher than the other? Oh, and the shirt is adorable; but, the girls really can't go out unsupervised. So, completely disregard this outfit and picture me in something cute and totally appropriate for my age and body shape...but hot!

I'm down 6lbs from my winter weight high, Yay! Shivering and sweating at the same hour and a half baseball game is really paying off.

Thank heavens for only three weeks left in school. Please let me survive. Please let my kids survive. I'd probably really regret strangling one of them by August.

Wellllll, I'm off to change the washer/dryer and color Easter eggs...don't ask!

Happy Mothers Day

I've been wanting to do this post for quite some time. I had intended to call it Book Ends because this post is about my sister Jenny and me. I am the oldest child in my family of eleven siblings and Jenny is the youngest. I think Jenny was three years old when I left for college so no one can claim that our similarities are due to my influence on her young impressionable mind.

It must be genetics.

Jenny and I have lived across the street from each other for the past nine years now. She with our Mom, me with my testosterone brood. It's been really fun to discover how similar we are despite the many years between us. Well, fun for us, I'm fairly sure my Mom wonders where we came from with our tattoo loving, tank top exchanging ways.

Jenny was the first person I went to after reading the anonymous "Friend" letter demanding my #2 son cut his hair and quit leading the church boys astray with his rebel ways. "Talk me down!" I said, handing her the letters and the pictures of missionaries and a convict. She read the letter, laughed and said, "No way I'm talking you down, I want to see you let loose on this!"

A few weeks ago Jenny started a blog, she calls it a book, soccer, movie blog, check it out at Alternate Readality on my sidebar. (Cute blog name, right?) Unfortunately soccer season was in full swing and Jenny was rooting hard for Real Madrid, her "soccer boys", she may have focused on soccer a lot in those first few posts. She posted a couple pictures of one soccer body boy shirtless, but with an assurance to those who might take offense, that she had even better pictures but didn't dare post them because, hello, our Mom would be scandalized.

She emailed me the "even better" picture of Sergio Ramos, the one she hadn't posted... is it hot in here? Now I intended to post that picture on another blog of mine with less of a family geared audience as a part of this post. Adorable Hubby and Jenny thought this post should be a Mothers Day post on this blog so I'll just describe the picture.

Jenny and I both agree that Sergio has a hot name and even hotter body, his face....so, so. But, when you're as impossibly hot as Sergio it's only fair you're not completely perfect. Any who, in this picture Sergio's hair is brushed out in shoulder length locks of manliness, and he's wearing only what God and soccer gave him (And WoW! What God and soccer gave him!) with a pair of soccer cleats covering his man parts.

I responded this with this email.

Dear Sergio and Jenny,

Which picture represents the soccer standards you hold dear?

(This is Sergio)





Please Read, For the Hotness of Soccer, especially the section about hair length. It states, and I quote, "Just because you are impossibly hot and have the body of a Greek Olympian doesn't mean you can wear your hair like one. Don't you realize that some players are balding and will be sad if they have to mouth kiss another player who mocks their follicley challenged hotness with his flowing locks of manliness? And certain players would be uncomfortable grabbing the ass of a player who wears his hair long. What would Soccer come to if hot, sweaty men no longer lip kissed and Glute Grabbed their fellow players?"

Sergio, since you brought your "man locks" to Real Madrid, like, two other players have grown their hair out too. See what your example is causing?




Please for the love of all that is Soccer, cut your hair, quit with all this open praying stuff and slip some guy the tongue already...perhaps that cute Australian player. Now he has nice short hair.




And, Jenny, quit encouraging Sergio.

Sincerely,

A Friend


Jenny responded with.

I was laughing sooooo hard I had to read it three times just to appreciate it! Thanks for all the hot pics. I'm not ashamed!


Now I'm not a huge soccer fan but I love that she is. And she can send me pictures of hot, scantily clad soccer players anytime...so I can be supportive and sisterly.


Jenny and I share a love for pedicures, tattoos, cute clothes, awesome shoes, movies, tank-tops, books, lime-coconut cup cakes, seasonal t-shirts, junior mints, Be-Dazzlers, sarcasm, writing, adventure, beaches...the list just keeps going.

We do have one little sibling rivalry however.

Who has the better cleavage...


Jenny?

or me?





I text-ed her this picture a week ago, and wished her a Happy Mothers day.

Why?

A couple years ago on Mothers Day we sat next to each other as a church member spoke about the evils of Sexting...on Mothers Day Sunday. We kept poking each other in the ribs and may have whispered how we wished we had our cell phones.

Jenny text-ed me back last week with her cleavage shot and, "It's not Mother's Day but what a great way to brighten my morning"

Clearly she was conceding the Cleavage Wars in my favor.


Mom, I know sometimes you wonder how you got eleven kids to turn out so great. Consider what you had to begin with and how you ended... how could you have failed with all that going on??

Love you, Jenny!

Love You Mom!

Happy Mothers Day to all you Moms out there.