changing plans

This isn't a post pertaining to any significant event; just some Mary Ramblings. 

Today I had my list of things to do firmly set in the stone of my mind when my mojo began to crumble. I don't like my mojo being crumbled. It is a slippery, albeit rocky, slope. 

My first mistake was to change my routine and not run. I used the flimsy excuse that I didn't want to wake Jake: who's home for the weekend and whose bedroom is next to the "exercise" room. (too cold outside also ruled out running outside. I use that excuse frequently as well.)  As if I were ever that considerate. Bad choice, because running always makes my frown turn upside down. 

Things have gone out of kilter from that one choice. I don't know quite how it works; but if I change one thing in my routine everything from that point on suffers. 

My plan, (the set in stone one), was to go buy a dryer, pick up prescriptions, buy a birthday present for Wes's friend, and probably a couple of other random errands thrown into the mix.  

Yeah, well, as I am prepping myself for the day, I hear loud rambunctious banging on the front door but because I was not fully prepped I chose to ignore it. Then I hear the rambunctioness actually enter my home. It's some of Jake's friends (see, I could have exercised cause they woke up Jake). And while I love Jake's friends, they did contribute to the messing up of my mojo. Is it my fault that I hung out with Jake and his friends for an hour or so? 

I really did make a huge effort to get back on track though. I was getting my act together.  I even answered the phone and didn't let it distract me. I was on task. I was propelling forward. I was purposeful and ready to go. 

But the dryer is not the only thing that is broken. The Car. It is broke too. If I hate a broken dryer, I hate a broken car so much more. 

So I am now completely derailed. Once I have a plan it seems like I just can't get my groove back. I look around dazed and thinking what am I going to do now? It's not like there aren't a thousand things to do; I am just deflated. 

Here's what I did. I just gave up. I have been on facebook, reading random blogs, listening to the news, generally just wasting time. So I thought I'd waste some time here.  If you actually read this, then you wasted some time too. Misery loves company. 

*Do you realize how many random blogs there are? I could be derailed 24/7. I am definitely headed in that direction.

first official craft project post.

This is my first official craft project post on our blog! So excited!

What we have here is a "5-minute Valentines Box". That's what you make when your child gives you the note telling you that he needs to bring a valentine box for his valentines the day before he needs to bring his valentine box to school. 

Supplies for this project are:

1 red shoe box

1 lego catalog

scissors

glue

1 boy (this project is definitely geared more for a boy; it requires little thought.)

1 easily irritated mom

optional items:

random plastic toy (to tape on top; see instructions.)

Instructions for construction of Valentine Box:

Find the box.

Find the glue. 

Find the scissors.

Have child cut out pictures of random lego toys. Overcome your OCD self and pay no attention to the fact that the pictures are cut all jiggidy-jaggidy.

YOU glue pictures to box because you cannot be expected to overcome that much OCD.

Try to place the pictures randomly and not symmetrically; random is more pleasing to the eye.

As a final touch you could add your optional random toy. After child has gone to bed, secure the toy with tape. Because there is no way it is going to stay stuck. 

What would kids do without their easily irritated moms?

I hope my box wins first place!

Piano

It's a right of passage. Piano lessons. 

My own journey with piano began when I was 5 years old. I remember that I was very excited and I loved it and I caused a lot of grief for my parents and my piano teachers. Because, while I loved the piano, I, like most, did not like the part about practicing. And somehow teachers can tell when you haven't  practiced. I do recall that one teacher requested that I not be her student any longer. I was a stubborn, contrary girl. 

I must have picked up something because I still love the piano. And while I certainly never became a great pianist, I did learn enough to really enjoy what I could play. Playing the piano is a great stress reliever. Any time I would play as a teenager I would have a better day. I also had a crazy delusion that Donny Osmond was going to walk up to our door, hear me playing, and ask me to marry him on the spot. Plus be on his show. (And to think that some 30 years later I would be sitting next to Donny Osmond in a movie theater...if only I'd brought my piano along...no, bad idea.) The best calling in the church is Primary Piano Player. Hands down. I have had that calling at the very least 10 years in total.

The three old ones, (Kristen, Jake and Jessie), all had their piano lessons from a wonderful woman named Marilyn. (Marilyn was the original "Darla" on the "Little Rascals" show. That is a long time ago, even for me.) She charged $5 a lesson and that was a real deal. (And it is also exactly as much as we could afford.) She was a great teacher; not a great motivator. She was just too darn nice. I'm not sure how K., J., &J., feel about piano. I will have to ask them. (I just now asked J. #2, and she says she wishes she could play the piano.) 

Wes began about 6 weeks ago and I am pretty sure the novelty has worn off. He is doing very well, passing off all the beginning songs as fast as a rabbit; but the realization that this is a skill to be learned and is not just handed to you is beginning to dawn. I know this is something Wes wants to do though because it is one of the few things he has to do that he isn't scheming for some way to be paid for for doing it. Lessons are now $15 each; but I think it will be worth it. He will succeed  because Wes is motivated, and his teacher is as well.

Writing this is making me want to pull out the Primary Songbook and play a few tunes. Yeah, I am that good. I wonder if Donny is out taking a walk tonight?

I wouldn't pay $450 to see anything.

Entering from the inner sanctum.

Looking UP from where we sat. 

Warm up. 

More warm up. Can't get enough of that.

The Carolina Bobcats warm up.

Notice the little boy crying. Those big dressed up characters creep me out too.

He (the little boy) got better.

Game Shot

Crowd shot?

Pretty sure that player is looking at me!

Or trying to NOT look at me.

Amazing action shot! They are ridiculously good looking. 

This is a free throw, right?

Another Action Shot. He's got some great moves.

Okay, if you cannot tell, these are pictures from a Jazz game. A game that Kevin and I attended. And as you can see we are very close to the actual game. Very Very Close. $450 per seat close. Way out of our league close. Pun intended.

Here's the story: Kevin was given these amazing tickets from work and when you get tickets like that it doesn't matter one bit that you have no idea who they are playing, (or really care), or really understand the game of basketball. I did learn that it is somewhat like tennis. Your head goes back and forth, back and forth. I also learned that there a lot of people who go to great lengths to catch little balls that are thrown in the air at random. They don't throw those balls at the $450 seat section though; that'd be way tacky. People in that section also clap like they are at the ballet, very properly and politely. Nary a woot woot to be heard. I also learned that Kevin, and especially I, are big dorks. I was completely dazzled by the shiny floor, the really hot players (me) and the really hot dancers (Kevin and me), and the 3-ring circus that the whole thing actually is. Plus the fact that we were fed before the game in the "special people" upper crust eating room and were allowed to go down anytime during the game and get more free food. Which we never actually did; but knowing we could made us feel special. I took about 60 pictures of I don't even know what. We looked like tourists visiting another country. No clue about the customs or the language of the area. The "plastics" were sitting beside us and you don't know how badly I was trying to figure out how to get a picture of them. I was so distracted by them that I missed part of the game. Eventually I really did kind of get into things; I even gave a little tiny shout out at one point. I don't think anyone heard. Hopefully. 

The funniest part for me was finding out that the Jazz had been on a losing streak and this game was the first one they'd won in a while. We must be like good charms or something. They should give us more tickets. But this time I would prefer to sit with the woot-wooters. (But I'm not complaining about the view; we could have touched the players. And have been tackled and restrained by the security force surrounding the floor. Not that I thought about ever doing that. No, definitely not. Too tacky.)

A Basketball game to remember. 

Special, Special, Special

January 31, 2009 

Jake performed the baptism and Dad the confirmation.

Wes with Jake and his buddies. 

Jake in his signature pose; Wes ???

Aww...the fam.

The pictures definitely tell the story of Wes's baptism day. I'm not an openly sentimental person but I will share that it was a really special day. "Special" gets a bad rap. It was a truly special day.