Why we had a Rhinoceros for Dinner

So yes, you may be looking at this picture of a broken chair and think, why did the White's invite a 2 ton rhinoceros for dinner? Why? Well my friends, it was not a rhinoceros, it was ME.

I know, I know. Humiliating yes.

But I might add...these chairs are quite old and literally on their last legs (we have even banished another precarious chair to our bedroom so it won't be sat upon)...and I was thinking just before this tragedy occurred, 'oh, these chairs are fine...we'll just use them until they fall apart'. Apparently the chair had the same idea in mind.

I mean, I know I have a pu-dunka-dunk. I know. I am not in denial...but this accident happened with only one butt cheek. In fact, the left cheek, imagine what could've happened with BOTH cheeks.

And did this happen when I was home alone, having a nice quiet moment pondering life? NO...it happened during Sunday dinner and while AW was on the phone with neighbor/friend. And he HAD to tell the hilarious story...and everyone was laughing. And Grace said, "Mom you weigh too much." So I laughed too...but to tell you the truth, I hurt: 1. My left butt cheek. 2. My elbow. 3. My head, and okay...my feelings a little too. Now everyone keeps asking me when I'm going to do the "Booty Chop" Kung Fu Panda style.

So. Now off to buy new chairs...going to Four Chairs because I have been dying for some apple green kitchen chairs. Fate has spoken, I shall have those STURDY apple green chairs.

Party Like It's...1989

So...went to my dear friends 40th birthday party and GASP they had a DJ. A real DJ. Like from some 'members only' club with a wig on and more disco balls than I could count. And at first everyone was like, WHAT? Dance? Us? No. We have like five kids and we can only do the white boy shuffle. But after he started playing 'You Dropped the Bomb on Me' from the Gap Band, I was in. Game. ON.



In high school I LIVED for church dances at the Stake Center...serious party time. And he started playing songs like "True" and "Chains of Love" and I was thrown way back to my UNITS outfit with matching creeper shoes, big bangs and even bigger earings. Long live the 80's. I must admit I even knew every word to "Like a Virgin" and could see my mom's disapproving face in my head. I came home sweaty and hoarse wondering WHEN could I do that again. I think I'm reinstituting the Dance Party at my house with Lucy Gayle.

And I was also reminded why I married my man...sister, he has got some MOVES. I mean his New Kids on the Block routine at his high school talent show is still LEGEND. Serious skillzzz.

Want to have a good laugh(?)... OR: Why you should try things on

So last week I was off to my SLC book club, with my most loving and beautiful friends (who I miss living next door too so very much). And I was super excited because I NEVER get to see them. Okay. Not never, but hardly ever get to see them, even though we are a mere 30 minutes away.

Anyway...Book Club at the SLC Country Club, with beautiful women I love and admire, eat chocolate, gossip, revel, (cackling and giggling allowed)...all good things. Yes? But here was the problem. I wanted to look cute...you know a little fancy...and there was a blouse I had been eyeing at this place: Our Little Store but they opened at 11am...and it was like 10 or something. So I thought, okay. Babysitter comes at 11:00...I'll throw on a skirt and a shade shirt, pop down to the store on my way to Book Club and voila...I will be looking ever so stylish and BC worthy.

So down to Little Store and (gasp) they are only open on W-F-S!!! Can you believe? I ogled the blouse on display...I may have even pounded on the glass window...just a little. Alas...best laid plans always go kaput.

So. New plan. Who cares right? Although, Shade shirt was a little snug. You know, especially around the boobie area. So, drive to SLC and spy another wonderful little shop...Four and Twenty Sailors (cutest kids clothes ever!) and they sell women's clothing too. And happy day! Sale rack right outside---so I find a cute red and white stripe trapeze top, cute red buttons, size 10 (a little big, but it'll work) sales lady rings it up and says, "This runs a little big." I say, "No problem." And off I go, not a moment to spare. Park the car, jump out, and stand in the parking lot to pull on new and oh-so-lovely top when...SCREECH.

Wait.

One arm in, head in, but sooo very tight, like trying to wiggle through a hot-dog casing, my other arm-al-most-in...and YES. On. But. So not fitting right, it won't even button up the side.

Then: Old man drives by in a golf cart looking extremely suspicious just because I am sweating and struggling and my arms are waggling out of the blouse like a deformed hermit crab. (This is really not good for my self-esteem.)

Finally I say forget it and toss the blouse in the car and march away, with just a shred of dignity intact.

Go to lunch as I am.. only now a little red-faced and sweaty. And what do the girls say, "Jen, you look so cute!" Of course.

AND...went to return shirt.
Me: This really doesn't run big, it's quite small.
Sales Lady: I was wondering why no one was buying it, it's so cute.
Me: I know, it's really cute, but it doesn't fit right.
SL: How old is the little girl you're buying it for?
Me: WWWWHHHAAAAAATTTT? (That was inside my head). UHM....
SL: Well now I know why it hasn't sold.
Me: (I am such an idiot.) And I return it with a big dumb smile on my face.

Good news: I do not fit into a CHILD'S SIZE 10 (even when it does run a little big).

Why I have lack of commitment issues with Blogging and I ran too...

So again i have stopped blogging....I know. Why can't I stay on top of it? Why do I let it slide? WHY? (by the way, these are rhetorical questions, that only I can answer in my heart of hearts). But. I'm back. For now...:) Promises, promises.

But this morning I ran...and I'm using that word loosely because really I could have ran around my house and said I ran today...but really, I ran with three very talented and professional runners and then there was me. In the dust. Cheering them on from way-way behind. :) And look, I'm even happy about it. Sort of.

My goal is to run for many laps and not even breathe hard. That may be difficult, especially when I left my inhaler at home and at one point thought...hmmm...I hope I can walk home. So. Very bad choice on my part. Next time: 1) bring inhaler 2) bring my Zips so I can run faster. Does anyone remember Zips...back in the day? Za-za-za-Zips! My sister had a pair and it's true, she was and is quite fast. Opps. I mean in the completely athletic sense. I mean she runs super fast. Okay. I knew you knew what I meant.

And another few Sophie-isms.

Scene: At the pool.
Sophie: Mom I hit my head on the slide and I stayed awake.
me: What?
Sophie: I didn't knock out or something.

Scene: Watching Park City Fireworks
Sophie: Cinncinati-ma-cracky the fireworks are starting!

Why is food so GOOoooOOOD?

Because it just is.

And sometimes I just need a treat. And TODAY I really needed a lunchtime-something-special. So off we headed to my favorite place Flour Girls and Dough Boys Bakery for lunch. Oh Sista'! Tomato Soup (DIVINE) and half of the Apple Walnut Brie sandwich to go. (I think I'm salivating right now!) Please tell me some of you take pictures of your food too! I'm not the only crazy one? And then because this bakery is LOADED with sweet niblets we had to get the famous Shortbread Chocolate Chip cookie. I gave a piece to Lucy in the car. Need I say more?!

Easy Breezy Beautifully...

TIRED

I am SOOOOOOO needing a little rest on my memory foam pillow topper bed. AND I'm into all things irresponsible...like played with Luce instead of folding the laundry and/ or mopping the floor. Okay. There. I said it. Today, I smiled and helped her empty her bottom drawer of clothes...again all over the bedroom floor. It was kinda' fun. We might do it again tomorrow.

Viva Mexico!

So we spent some time with Adam's company in Playa del Carmen, Mexico! We had soooo much fun!

There were a million mexican trinkets to buy...on every corner... and from every native...(at least that's what it felt like). Our hotel was teaming with monkeys, peacocks, swans, turtles, and these little muskrat type things....thank goodness no crocodiles in the hotel! :)

We climbed to the top of the temple in Coba, after riding these 1950's looking bikes through the jungle to get there. (I need to find the accent marks on my keyboard, but I don't know where they are :) Adam raced his friend to the top...I mean after looking at this steep climb, I have to ask, 'really, is that necessary?'"


We went to the local Cenote's (which are underground caverns with fresh water lakes)...Adam always wanted to jump first...and the highest (I'm sensing a trend here...) And I jumped too! Some had weird little blind, black fish swimming around. The underground tunnels go for miles and miles.

As you can see the water was AMAZING...and our favorite archeological site was Tulum...just beautiful! We also went snorkeling and took numerous trips out on the Hobie-Cat.

Here we are enjoying local Mexican fare...and of course the monumental Chichenitza...Adam will have to tell you about that day...A long ride in a van, a torn(?) miniscus=a hobbling Adam, and an nonperscribed percocet=Adam throwing-up in the jungle. Hmmm. It was quite a day. But, we're glad we went. And the Cenote afterwards certainly cheered him up.





Our maid service created animals and such out of our towels...we were always interested in what we would find sitting on our bed after our fun adventures...this was the most unusual. Do you know what it is? We still haven't decided, but the sticker eyes and mouth crack us up.

Seven Things You Wish You Never Knew

My friend Jennie tagged me a month or so ago, and I've finally decided to do it. And just so I don't forget, I'm tagging AMR, my sister Kim, cousin Klare, Tricia, Crys, Bernice and Ann Dee. So come on ladies...let us peek inside your neurotic little brains.

1. I am my mother. Okay. Not really, but I find myself turning into her bit by bit. WE only buy Knudsen cottage cheese, Smart Balance butter, and Jennie-O Turkey Dogs...We've even been know to show up in the same shirt. "Oh my gosh. That's so cute. Did you get it on sale at Target?" But the most obvious is when I hear myself say things like, "Hey kids, do you want to play a game?" "Yay! A game. Yes, we want to play." "Okay. It's called Clean-Up-The-Living-Room!" "Boo. Nooooooo...." Or when I find myself shaking my fist threateningly at a child or two while I'm on the phone----which we all know translates into, "Please, my dear sweet child. Please be as quiet as a little mouse while I am on the telephone." I've even said, "Hey, do you guys want some cookies?" "Yay! Yes, we want cookies." "Good, go make some!" Wait...I haven't said that yet. But, I feel it coming. I expect the transformation will be complete in a year or two. By the way...love you Mom!

2. I can't sleep in an unmade bed. Well, I guess I CAN. But who would ever want to? It's so uncomfortable. So even if it's in the wee hours of the morning and I'm just dragging myself to bed. Who am I kidding? I mean, if it's like 10:00pm and my bed hasn't been made that day, I still make it, before I go to bed. (This drives Adam crazy.) I've got this whole Princess and the Pea thing going on...right, who is the Princess? I am.

3. I love Rick Springfield. Okay. This obessesion started in fifth grade when I sent the best picture of myself (wearing my Jukebox T-shirt) to him. I don't know what I expected to happen, but he never responded...the jerk. But. I still love him. Especially the song, "Jessie's Girl." A while ago Adam and I had a huge debate about the lyrics. It goes, "I wish that I had Jessie's girl. You know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute, I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is rather_____." What? What is the word? I said, " Uhm...shot...no. Uhm...loot. No. What is the word?" Adam said, "Moot." I said, "Right. That's not even a word. You made up that word. Do you think I'm dense?" (Adam has been known to make up a word or two...)
So I bet him like a life-time of foot massages, that the word was NOT moot. I mean, what does that even mean? What kind of lunatic does he take me for? So...we looked it up.

It is...MOOT. And my hands are really tired of rubbing hairy toes. Whoops. Did I say that outloud? By the way, moot means: "debatable; doubtful: a moot point. 2. of little or no practical value or meaning; purely academic." I would say, Adam is moot!

4. I sleep talk. Okay. Adam would say, "Sleep-Freak-Out," but I say SEMANTICS SHEMANTICS right? Among my many sleep issues, I have a weird paranoia about my wedding ring while I am in the deep throws of dreamland. I've been known to make Adam look for my wedding ring at 3am. He searched the car, my closet, my purse...and then finally drew the line when asked to go to the basement...and then he found it, where it ALWAYS is, sitting in my jewelrey box. Now, when I go into wedding-ring-frantic-mode he pats his BYU sweats pocket and says, "I have it. It's right here. Don't you worry about your wedding ring...PLEASE go to sleep." We have our theories about why I do this...and none of them are pretty.

5. I like being first. I guess it comes from being the FIRST child. You know...first born, first to go to kindergarten, first to date, drive, go to Prom. I always had new clothes...never had to deal with hand-me-downs like my 2nd and 3rd born sisters. First to get married, I had the FIRST blessed grandchild. You get the picture. But now...that idea is sort of turning on me.

Now, I'm the first to turn 40...okay, it hasn't happened YET, but it WILL. And I'll be the first. I'm the first to have a child roll their eyes at me and say, "Mom! You're so mean. I hate this family!" Who wants to be the first at that? And now, I'm the first to not be able to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. This first thing is WAY over-rated.

6. I have a love hate relationship with the dishwasher. I rinse every dish spotless before I load it into the dishwasher (another Mom thing). Adam says I defeate the purpose of a dishwasher and that the dishes are practically clean before I put them in. He also reminds me that we bought the very fancy dishwasher with the garbage disposal in the bottom so you CAN load things like say, a plate full of spaghetti, into it and not blink an eye. Gross. Sorry Adam, I...just...can't...do...it. Curses.

7. I love to make lists....I mean. Not just like to make lists. But I LOVE to makes lists and the best part of the list making is the crossing things off. That is the BEST part of all. Sometimes, when it's just hard to wander bleary eyed out of bed, I put:
1. Get out of bed. (yay! Check that off)
2. Brush teeth. check. (I'm sooo amazing at getting things done!)
3. Get dressed. Check. (Look how well I manage my valuable time.)
Okay. You get the idea. Lists are just great in every way. I have lists of: vacations I want to take, books I want to read, baby names I like, when to clean what and on what day, what coupons I need to use, scriptures I want to memorize, recipes I want to try, exercises I need to do, books I want to write, people I want to be like...I have a list for every occasion. And, well. I love it.
Grace, the poor child, is just like her mother. She is a list-aholic as well. Here's what her list look like:
1. inventions she wants to create
2. the trampoline room she wants in her not-yet-built-tree-house
3. parties she will have
4. mysteries to solve
5. Pokemon cards she has
6. pets she wants to have (but Mom won't let her.)
7. tricks she'll teach the pets she can't have.
8. science experiments to try...
Actually, her lists are much more interesting than mine.

So, that's it. Now, it's your turn!