Perpetual Plan B

Wednesday, July 29, 2009


That's it. I'm taking the magazine back. I feel too guilty to keep it after my confession yesterday.

I didn't sleep very well last night. (Maybe it was because I stayed up late reading it from cover-to-cover.)

It's true, crime doesn't pay.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The One Thing That May Just Land Me In "The Big House"

I have a confession to make. A really big confession.

I steal magazines.

Well, I don't really steal them. I kind of just "borrow" them.

Sometimes I even bring them back.

It all started one time at a doctor's office a few years ago, when I had to wait a really long time. By the time I was called back and then waited another big amount of time for the doctor to show up in the room I had started the book excerpt in the magazine. And then, when I was partway through, it was time to go. So I just took the magazine home with me. And I didn't feel bad about it at all. I had every intention of bringing it back, but I just never got around to it.

Well, a while later (probably at the same office) I again felt justified in "borrowing" their magazine to finish it. They were wasting my valuable time, I figured they owed me SOMETHING in return. And their magazines were usually old ones.

One day I was in the orthodontist's office reading a magazine and I ended up "borrowing" it. (It was for either another book excerpt or some recipes that I wanted to try. It's those darn recipes, they get me every time. I used to always try to write them down but it can take a LONG time to write down more than one recipe.) When I got home I realized that it was a brand new magazine. I felt so guilty that I made a special trip back the next week and returned it. I also left them one or two of my own magazines that were fairly new. (There used to be very few good magazines in the orthodontist's office, usually only sports and kid magazines. I was really doing them a public service by adding to their collection.)

Today when I "borrowed" a magazine from the doctor's office I took some time to ponder my criminal intentions.

I noticed a pattern.

I only take magazines (and feel somewhat justified in it) from doctor's offices where I don't really like the doctor. (Or maybe I'm actually angry with the fact that I am kept waiting so long EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. at these specific types of appointments.)

I have NEVER taken a magazine from my dentist or orthopedic surgeon.

I have only taken two magazines from the orthodontist and felt so guilty that I have taken at least one of them back (I can't remember about the other, but I do remember feeling guilty again) and actually added more magazines to their collection.

I have never taken a magazine from the clinic where I see the woman physician's assistant I usually see for any female-related issues, when I have been there to see her.

I have probably taken well over 10 magazines from the very same clinic waiting room when waiting on any one of the various actual doctors at that very same clinic. (And felt justified in most of those cases.)

Is there something psychologically wrong with me? Do I have a deep seated resentment that needs to be explored?

(Actually, now that I think about it, I've probably visited this clinic well over 100 times in the last 20 years throughout all the pregnancies (4), miscarriages (3), infertility treatments for a total of 8 or 9 years, post-natal care, biopsies, yearly check-ups, hysterectomy related issues, etc. )

I wonder if maybe I have a lot of pent-up hostility for being kept waiting so long for so many years.

Personally, I think they got off easy, losing a few measly magazines.

(Oh no, isn't justification the first step down that slippery slope that can lead to a life of crime? Somebody please save me from myself!)

Friday, July 24, 2009

Note to Self

Children are very literal.

I need to remember this so I won't ever tell my four-year-old son that I'm going to "hurry and slap some sunscreen all over him" again.

It took me a minute to figure out why he ran screaming from the room.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Making Learning Fun

You know how we're supposed to be teaching our kids how to lead music? (At least in our church, we are strongly encouraged to do so.) Well, they always complain about it and make a huge fuss.

Tonight we found a great way to do this without the kids even knowing they were actually learning. Hopefully this is a skill that they might even use in the many, many (many) church-going years ahead of them.

Here's our secret:

Use non-church music.

We were all sitting in the backyard listening to the iPod at bedtime and the song Hooked on a Feeling by B.J. Thomas came on. It had kind of a good 4/4 beat to it so, without thinking, I started leading. This is a skill that I am just learning myself, since I'm not particularly musically inclined or talented.

From there we moved on to Hot Blooded by Foreigner and before I knew it, we were all sitting around the patio table leading music. It was actually quite fun. The kids even seemed to enjoy it. Next came Winning by Santana. It was a little slower, but still had a good beat. I think Hot Blooded was our favorite of the night. We tried really hard to find a song with a 3/4 beat but were unsuccessful.

We decided that next week in church we should have those be some of the songs for Sacrament meeting.

Can't you just hear it, "Brothers and Sisters, please turn in your hymn books to page 314 for Hooked on a Feeling and then after the service we will close by singing hymn number 224, Hot Blooded. The closing prayer will then be given by Sister Smith."

Do you think we'd have better attendance at Sacrament meeting?

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Blast From the Past

Yes! I finally got a new scanner. It looks like it should be a pretty good one and fairly easy to use.

In honor of this momentus occasion, I will post the first (well, actually the only) photo I have scanned so far:

This is my husband with his two brothers, probably sometime in the late 70s.

My husband is the little one on the left (is it just me, or does he somewhat resemble Bobby Brady?), Thom is in the middle and Skip is on the right.

Weren't they groovy?

Wednesday, July 15, 2009


I don't know why I keep waxing philosophical these days, but another big issue keeps showing up that I want to share, mainly with girls and women who are younger than I am.

I'm not in photos very often for a couple of reasons.

1. I'm the unofficial family photographer, both because I do a little better job of it, but mainly because I am the one who usually THINKS of getting out the camera and using it.

2. I don't always feel like I look good enough to be in a picture. (I don't have on make-up, my hair isn't done, etc.) and when I do think I look okay, I'm too embarrassed to ask someone else to take a picture of me.

Well, I've just started developing all our old digital photos from when the kids were little, a month or so at a time, and guess what - I think I looked pretty good, much better than I do now.

It's that way with professional family pictures too. There are some that I really hated of me at the time, but now, five or so years later, I realize that I looked a lot better then than I thought I did, but I didn't appreciate it.
Even haircuts that I hated then look pretty good to me now, since my hair hasn't really gotten better with age.

One other thing I noticed is that I somehow always look mad or grumpy in photos at times when I didn't think I looked good and someone wanted to take a picture of me. I've finally also realized that I ALWAYS look better when I smile, even without make-up. I don't want my grandkids and great-grandkids to look at pictures of me and think that I was a grumpy old woman. (Even though my kids KNOW that I am, I want everyone else to at least wonder what I was like.)

So this has led me to just grin and bear it when photos are being taken. I want to look back in a few years and see how much better I look now.

(Oh no, how much worse will I look in five more years?)

Wednesday, July 8, 2009


I had an epiphany the other day in church.

I realized that I will NEVER get anything extra done during the summer. I can only maintain the bare essentials at best; keep us all fed, do the dishes, wash the clothes and try to keep us all from hurting each other - accidentally or otherwise.

I usually start each summer with high hopes of all the great projects the kids and I, or at least I - with the help of the extra babysitters at home, will be able to accomplish.

"THIS will be the summer I get us all organized." I usually tell myself.

A close second is, "This is the summer I will teach the kids how to really work."
(I know I really shouldn't put this here, but the quote from Wayne's World is just begging to be inserted. "And maybe monkeys will fly........." If you know the movie, which I should be ashamed to say I've seen twice, once when it came out and again more recently, you'll know the quote. I hope you'll cut me some slack, I grew up in the 80s.)

Then I mentally list all the projects I just know we're (I'm) going to have time to do:

Go through all the photos and put them into books finally (and in chronological order), yep. Clean out the office (again), uh huh. Go through all the extra storage containers and get rid of some, sure. Go through ALL the old toys and see which ones we don't need any more, of course we can. Clear all the "end of school year" clutter off the pool table so we can actually play pool again, great idea! These are all things that are perpetually on my summer to-do list.

It finally dawned on me that these things will probably not ever happen, at least not during the summer. I'm too busy picking up all the extra cereal bowls and washing all the extra clothes and/or swimsuits and trying to get rid of all the extra grass that has been tracked all over the house. And then there are all the extra dentist and orthodontist and other varied appointments I've been putting off until we got some extra time. Oh yes, and let's not forget the extra neighbor kids I have running all over the place too. All this while trying to keep my three very different kids out of extra mischief. (Or at least two of them.)

So, I decided to make peace with this, adopt kind of a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" sort of attitude.

I'm going to enjoy my summer too.

As long as the basics are covered, I'm going to lounge a little bit. Relax, chill out with some lemonade and a good book. Maybe break into the stack of magazines that has been piling up.

And when I get a little extra time, I'm going to do MY favorite summer activity (next to going to Bear Lake, of course).

I'm going to figure out just how many days are left until school starts and taunt the kids with the information.

(Morgan told me an epiphany should be a religious experience, but since I was in church when I figured all this out, I think it qualifies.)