Worst Mom EVER (Christmas Edition)

Well, this holiday season has started off just like the last few..........with Austin being very, very NAUGHTY!

I have been trying to figure out when to take him to see Santa, but I really, really want him to be good, even if it is just for ONE day, before we go.

Here are just A FEW of the things he has been doing lately:

He has found - and eaten - more than his weight in candy, almost every single day.  I don't know how he always manages to sniff out where I have been hiding the treats, but he does.  Since he has been eating so much junk, he is not eating the healthy stuff, making him mean and very, very  unreasonable.

He won't clean his room, he won't do his homework, he won't go to bed on time, he won't brush his teeth, etc., etc.

And another thing, he has now earned the code name "raccoon" because of his penchant for "borrowing" things.  Little, shiny things.  (Remember the  jewelry incident from last spring?)  He actually came home from the live Nativity that our little town puts on with two little LED candles in his pockets.  He swiped them from the luminaries they had, lighting the pathway there.  I have also found many of the fake coins they use in school to learn how to count out money.  I don't dare take him anywhere, because I'm afraid of what he may pick up "accidently".

Austin has been so naughty that our elf,  Nutmeg Jim, has even come and gone home already.  Nutmeg Jim even brought Austin a lump of coal instead of a present, which Austin was able to trade in for a book when he got his room clean, with a LOT of help from yours truly.  Once Austin earned the book, he kept saying "A book.  I got a book."  (Like, what was he expecting, a million dollars?)  Funny thing, it was a book he had asked for (I think there was even some crying involved) a month or so ago.  I told him to give the book a chance for 10 minutes and he LOVES the book.  He was just being a pill.

Anyway, I have just had it with him.  I am so DONE with him and his attitude.  I THOUGHT I had it under control until last night.  Earlier in the day, I had found what was a brand new bag of marshmallows in the family room.  There was about a third of the bag left.  I'm pretty sure I could figure out who had eaten them.   Then last night Ally asked if she could have some marshmallows in her hot chocolate.  We found the bag, EMPTY.  Austin, of course, said "I didn't do it."

I blew my top and said those fateful words that I will NEVER, EVER be able to take back:


"When you see Santa I bet he will take you off his lap and throw you on  the ground and JUMP on you!


Yes, I actually said "jump".  Not  something llike "accidently step" or "tiptoe around".  Ally swears I threw the word "kick" in there too.  I didn't know I had such violent tendencies hidden so deep inside of me.  I wonder if I need counseling.  (Actually I wonder if AUSTIN will need counseling.)

In reply, Austin ran BAWLING from the room.  (Which is actually the same reaction he had when he got the lump of coal.)  I was HORRIFIED!  I didn't mean to say that at all.  I really am not a mean mom.  I'm probably in the situation that I am in with Austin being so naughty because I am too nice of a mom.

So, I've pretty much squashed any holiday spirit we were still hanging onto around here.  Austin seems to have forgiven me this morning, but I still feel terrible.

(On the upside, I'm pretty sure that he still believes in Santa Claus, because I didn't know for sure until he got so upset.)

Two Great Quotes:

I have recently run across a couple of worthwhile quotes.  They are too great not to copy and share:

1.    "What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?" (from Sophia's blog.)

2.  “Real friends are those who, when you’ve made a fool of yourself, don’t feel that you’ve done a permanent job.”  Erwin T. Randall      (from Taffy's facebook page.)

One More Confession From My Life Of Crime, Newport Edition

I shoplifted.  Yep, I did it. I confess. 

I was an adult too.  I even made my 12 year old daughter act as lookout.

Now before you decide to "unfriend" me.  Let me explain:

I've mentioned before that one of my most brilliant ideas is the "12 year old trip".  It actually came about because around the time Morgan turned 12, I needed a vacation.  In a big way.  Austin was turning 2 and I had been home with one kid or another (or pregnant and too sick to do anything worthwhile) for 12 years straight. 

I needed a vacation that was REALLY a vacation.  Not a family trip.  Not a vacation that involved sippy cups in any way.   And, especially a vacation where I could call the shots;  eat where I wanted, do what I wanted and, most importantly, RELAX.  You get the idea.  (For the record, I don't think my husband knows the meaning of the word relax.  I've needed a vacation to recover from about every other vacation we've been on together.  I'm not complaining, we've gone on some pretty great trips together.  It's just that none of them involved hanging out and doing nothing for any stretch of time.)

I tried to figure out who might be the perfect candidate for my vacation and it dawned on me that Morgan was at a  pretty good age to travel.  She was old enough to be a fun companion, we liked to do lots of the same things AND was still young enough that I could sway her to like my ideas for what was fun.  And I was excited to get some quality one-on-one time together.

So, I proposed the idea of a 12 year old trip to the family.  Once each of the kids turned 12, I would take them on a trip, just the two of us.  Morgan was thrilled with the idea, Hal was nice enough to play along and Ally wasn't so thrilled, even though I promised her I'd take her on a similar trip in 3 years.  (She ended up going to New York City, lucky girl.)

For our trip, Morgan and I picked Newport, Rhode Island.   Well, to be totally honest, I picked Newport.  She went along with it and seemed pretty happy when I explained about the mansions we'd see, and everything else we would do. 

When Morgan was a baby, Hal and I had driven with some friends of ours, the Trettes, from Boston to Newport.  They showed us the mansions and Hal and I had walked along the cliff walk quite a ways and then back while the Trettes stayed in the car with Morgan.  We didn't get to actually go into any of the mansions, just look at them.  I had been dying to go back ever since then, but didn't think Hal would ever really want to go on a trip and do just that.  So it worked out great.

Morgan and I had a ball, staying in a fun bed and breakfast with the best food, touring the mansions, etc.  We also hung out at the beach one afternoon so she could swim in the ocean, which was a little chilly, but we were able to collect some shells for souvenirs.  We just had an all-around good time. 

The day before we left, Morgan and I checked out the little shopping area down by the wharf.  We bought some fun souvenirs and ended up at a t-shirt shop.  We found Morgan a Newport t-shirt and then we saw a navy blue hoodie that she liked.  I liked it too.  It only came in adult sizes, and the smallest one was a medium.  It was the only one that size.  The rest were large or bigger. We decided to buy it anyway, since it would fit me and she would grow into it in a year or two.

We picked up the hoodie and the only medium left didn't have a string.  I really didn't think it was a big deal because that's when all the news stories were coming out about taking the strings out of your little kids' hoodies so they wouldn't get hung up on them on the playground.  I can't remember Morgan being too upset about the string either, so I'm not sure why I decided that we needed to have a string in our hoodie.  I asked the girl at the counter if we could just take a string out of one of the other hoodies and she told me no.

I don't know why I was so surprised that she said no, but I guess it made me more determined that we needed that string.  I was  paying for a whole hoodie and by darn, that included a string.  She told me it was either buy that one without a string or buy a different size with a string.  No discout for the one without a string either.

Well, I guess I just needed that string more than I needed to be honest, so after talking to Morgan I decided that I was going to get a string for that hoodie, one way or another.  So, you guessed it, with Morgan acting as lookout, I stole a string out of one of the other hoodies. 

Now before you think I go around stealing things on a regular basis, let me assure you  that is not the case.  I'm so nervous about anyone even thinking I might shoplift that if I need to get something out of my purse in a store I will go right up to an employee and say "I need to get something out of my  purse, so I want you to watch me so you know I'm not putting something in it from the store."  Of course now that I think about it, that seems much more suspicious than just unzipping my purse to get my shopping list out of it.

Anyway, I felt so nervous the whole time I was paying for the hoodie and t-shirt.  I can't remember where exactly I stuffed the string, if I put it in a pocket or up my sleeve or just what I did.  I do know I was just sure they had a hidden camera watching and that they were going to follow me out of that store and arrest me with my impressionable 12 year old daughter watching the whole thing.  As soon as we were far enough away from the store, I stuffed that string in the hoodie as fast as I could, to hide the evidence. 

Let me just say if I were going to start committing any sort of crime, it wouldn't be shoplifting.  I don't know how people do it.  I just felt sick the whole time.  I had a boyfriend once, and it was a pretty long term relationship, that I caught shoplifting.  We were in Kmart  for some reason and I turned to say something and thumped him in the chest and my finger hit something hard and it rattled.  It took me a minute to realize that he had shoplifted a cassette tape.  That was pretty much the end of the relationship. 

So back to the hoodie.  Morgan wore it in good health for many years.  She finally gave it up,  probably because she is pretty much fully grown and it's still too big for her.  So now it belongs to me. 

String and all.



(On a much more positive note, I am going back to the scene of the crime in a month or so.  I am so excited!  This time I am going with one friend to visit another friend who lives in Connecticut.  AND we are going back to Newport one of the days.  After our family roadtrip a few weeks ago, I have sorely needed a real vacation.  Looks like I'll be getting one.  Yay, a girl trip!)

Quote From The Fridge

I tore this out of the newspaper a month or so ago and stuck it on the fridge. I keep thinking it's going to get lost in the shuffle (it's only about an inch big), so I thought I'd put it here.


"You are good. But it is not enough just to be good. You must be good for something. You must contribute good to the world. The world must be a better place for your presence. And the good that is in you must be spread to others." Gordon B. Hinckley


It's one more thing to think about as I go through the usual back-to-school assesment of my life and what I want to accomplish while the kids are in school. It seems like I'm always trying to make what I do matter. Deep cleaning the kitchen, clearing out clutter and re-arranging and organizing things are always first on my list each fall. Worthy goals, yes. But nothing that would be reported at my funeral as having long-term meaning to anyone else.

It's also a time I promise myself that I will start reading my scriptures regularly again, exercising and drinking more water. AND it's always a time that I swear that THIS is the year I will get into a real routine so I don't waste so much time trying to decide what to start with each day. I've never, ever considered myself a perfectionist, but I think I spend so much time trying to figure out the perfect routine (for me) that I just have never figured out any routine at all. Also, I guess if I take better care of myself, I will be in better shape to help take care of others.

So, here is the tentative routine, off the top of my head and definitely ready to change as I see fit:

Monday: laundry and deep cleaning day, clutter
Tuesday: floors and bathrooms
Wednesday:  errands and grocery shopping
Thursday:  volunteer at elementary school and  big cooking day
Friday: paperwork and special projects


I also need a basic daily schedule and I need to also schedule in some FREE time, so I don't feel guilty for sitting down and reading a book. Funny I don't feel guilty wasting time on the computer, but I don't feel like I can just sit down and read, which I honestly love more.

Ok, so that's a jumble of thought, but it's nice to get it out of my head and onto (virtual) paper at least. I'm also realizing that I forgot something very important, adding in what the kids will do to help each day. My friend Linda gave me her basic schedule last year and she included that, which was a great idea.

Anyone out there have a great schedule that works for them?

My New Motto

(Stolen from Katie, without even asking her permission.)

The Purse That Almost Got Me Arrested

It's cute though, right?

So the story is, that when I went to Italy I knew I wanted to get my sister-in-law a purse. The timing was convenient, since her birthday was about two weeks after I got home.

One of the first things our tour guide told us was to make sure and not buy purses from anyone who had them on the ground. Blanket or not, the ground was no good. On a table was ok, they were legitimate vendors, but the illegal ones apparently had them on the ground, ready to swoop them up and take off at a moment's notice. She also said that any buyers were subject to a $1,000 dollar (or euro, I can't remember which) fine AND - to add insult to injury - would have the purse confiscated.

No problem, we thought. We can live with those guidelines.

Our shopping got off to a slow start, so one of the first shopping days we went to an outdoor market. I didn't see anything that really grabbed me until right when we were leaving. On a table (thankfully) I found a cute bag that was mustard colored and looked like it was woven. It was cute, though you could tell it wasn't great quality. For the price though, 5 euros, I was pretty happy with it.

I wanted to get a purse for myself too, so I was going to try and buy two purses that I liked and would be happy with, in case I ended up with either one of them. I was going to let my sister-in-law pick.

Over the rest of the trip though, I didn't see any other purses that I particularly loved. (At least not ones that I could afford. I fell in love with a few in a shop in Venice. My friend Julie bought one that I absolutely loved. I'm glad that at least she got to have it, since I couldn't. See what a good friend I am.)

Anyway, it got down to the very last day, the very last couple of hours, stopping to look at purses everywhere we went. We were by the Pantheon and there it was, The Purse. The one I'd been looking for. The one I knew I was going to get for my sister-in-law. I went up to the guy and asked how much. He told me the price and I tried to decide in my head, converting euros to dollars, while also trying to remember exactly how many euros I still had, if I could afford it. It was the last day, after all and I was down to not much. It was definitely more than I had wanted to spend, especially for a knock off. I turned around, hoping he'd play the game.

As I walked away, he lowered the price a little. I turned and offered him less.

"Good quality." he assured me. "Very good price."

That wasn't the problem. It was the lack of funds at my disposal. After bargaining a little longer, we came to an agreement. I couldn't believe it! I had finally found what I hoped would be the perfect purse for my sister-in-law.

I walked around, happily clutching at my prize. We walked through the Pantheon, all the time I felt so happy and relieved that I had finally found what had eluded me for days.

When we walked back out, I was surprised that the purse sellers were no longer there. That should have been my first clue.

We walked back to Piazza Navonna and I was happy to find some women we had met and become friendly with on our tour. I was so excited to show them the purse. I eagerly got it out of the bag and was holding it up like a trophy to show them. They oohed and ahhed appropriately.

I couldn't figure out what the little Italian couple next to them started getting so agitated over. They started shushing me and making gestures. Finally one of the ladies from our tour said "I think you'd better put it away."

We then noticed the little "paddy wagon" that was parked in the square. Believe it or not, the back was full of confiscated purses!

I couldn't believe it! In my excitement of buying "the purse", I had forgotten our guide's warning of not buying one off of the ground. I didn't know what to do then. I was already carrying a purse and the one I had just bought was in a plastic bag. I tried to keep it hidden as well as I could, but I was definitely spooked. I walked around for the hour or so that we had left, looking over my shoulder. I swear there ended up being a policeman or two on every corner from then on. I forgot every once in a while to keep it hidden and would grab it by the handles and carry it like a purse. Luckily I had enough women around to remind me to keep in under my arm. I was actually glad to pay the money and hide out in a public restroom for a while.

Well, we did make it to the bus, where I breathed a sigh of relief.

I'll tell you what though, if that's what it feels like to be a criminal and have to constantly look over your shoulder I think my life of crime has come to an end. I do also feel sad for allegedly giving money to terrorists, so I guess I'm especially glad that they got Osama Bin Laden last month. (Not sure if the two situations are even remotely connected, but I'll take whatever means I can to make myself feel less guilty about the whole situation.)

Revisiting Italy - The Umbrella

I am finally at a point where I can think about my trip to Italy last fall. I don't know why, but this is one of my favorite memories. I am a little off-kilter, I know.

Airport security must have searched my bag before our flight to Italy. By searched, I mean RANSACKED. I didn't realize how bad the damage was until the very first day in Rome when I tried to open my umbrella because it was starting to rain. It looked a little mangled and when I opened it up it was severely broken.

Well, I didn't want to get wet, so I used it anyway. I got some strange looks, including from many people on our tour. I guess it was pretty embarrassing for people to be seen with me. I tried not to let it bother me because by darn, I did NOT want to buy another umbrella. I had brought mine from home and THEY broke it. It was the principle of the thing. At least that's what I told my cheap self.

I don't think we used our umbrellas again until we were in Florence and that day it rained pretty hard too. By then we knew all the people on our tour well enough for some of them to comment to me to throw the darn thing away. Again, I just figured I could make it through this one more day and it would be fine. I had lots of perfectly good umbrellas at home so I was not going to buy another one, especially when I needed to save my money for necessities, like gelato and scarves.

Anyway, by then even my mom was embarrassed to be seen with me. Actually, now that I think of it, she had probably been embarrassed from day one.

Our little group had been walking a while and were close to the Pitti Palace, so I said I'd run ahead and check on ticket prices and hours for tours so my mom and some of the others could rest a little.

As I was walking up by the line to read the sign that had the information posted on it I realized that people were looking at me and talking about me in Italian (at least I think it was Italian). I thought that they were thinking I was trying to get ahead of them in line, so I was going to try and explain, but then I figured out what was going on. They were making fun of my umbrella. All these little old Italian (I think) people were literally pointing and laughing at me. One even took a picture. I don't think I have EVER felt so self-conscious as an adult as I did right then. I was so embarrassed that I literally turned and ran away (yes, just like Napoleon Dynamite).

Well you can bet that my umbrella ended up in the first garbage can I could find. The sad thing is that that was the only day I took the time to do my hair and straighten it, so it was pretty much a waste of time. I should have just slept in a little longer. Oh well.

Note: This photo was NOT taken by the people who were laughing at me. It was taken by my friend Julie, who I met on our tour. Ironically, it is the best photo of me from the whole trip. I don't think the umbrella looks too bad here. You can't see the worst mangled metal spike thing that wasn't attached to any fabric and kept poking me in the head and catching my hair in it. I think by this time I'd either bent it up or broken it off completely.

What The "Dumb" Kids Do

One day, when Morgan was about 6 or 7 I found a name scratched right into the front newel post of our staircase. The one that was the most visible from the front door.

It said "Dad".

I found that fairly comical, even though I was a little ticked off about the damage.

Morgan must have heard me talking to someone else, saying that only the dumb kids carve their own names into things. We also joked about how it really must have been Hal that had carved his name to throw suspicion on someone else.

That must have gotten her thinking, because a week or so later I noticed on the other side of the bannister a new name, "Morgan".

I was NOT amused.

Think You're Having A Bad Parenting Week?

So, here's part one of the long version of a very long story. I'll post what I wrote two weeks ago now, and then once I can stand it I'll post "the rest of the story". (Parenting makes me TIRED some days!)

Let's start with some seemingly unrelated facts:

My mom is cleaning out some stuff in her house. One day she brought over a big box full of costume jewelry that she said we should go through together sometime.

Morgan got asked to the Junior Prom the day we left for vacation so when we got home we went right to the dress shop so they would have time to alter whichever dress she chose. The prom was less than a week away, so that was pushing it time-wise.

The dress she picked out this time is a pretty brown one with some nice beading on it. Her rhinestone jewelry wouldn't look good with the dress, so we asked my mom if we could look through her jewelry and see if she had anything we could use.

We got the box out and started going through it, piece by piece. Austin started looking pretty interested and got right in there with us and started digging through things. He started grabbing rings and watches right and left. I had to tell him to stay out of things.

It turned out that my mom didn't have anything that was just right for Morgan's dress. She wears a lot more black, so I told Morgan we could see what I had. I wear a lot of brown, but I don't have a ton of jewelry, like my mom. And all hers is a lot nicer than what I might have. Most of hers came from QVC. Mine usually comes from Kohl's or Claire's (or Kmart, to be honest). I do have three nice rings that I realized I had never really talked to the kids about before. They are from when they were born. I bought a nice ring for when Morgan, Landon and Ally were born, that I was planning on giving to them (or their wife) when they grew up. When Austin was born we didn't have extra money, because I wasn't working anymore, but I decided he can have Landon's ring to remember his brother. (Weird tangent, I know.)

I started to put my mom's jewelry away and Austin threw a fit, asking if he could have at least a ring or a watch. I handed him a gold watch that was pretty tarnished and worn out. He then begged for a ring. He'd never had a ring and he'd always wanted one (and he was crying). So, I gave in and gave him a gold ring that looked like it was made out of tiny chain link. I tried to pick one that I thought nobody else would really want. My mom did have some really nice rings and among them was my grandma's college ring and also my mom's mother's' ring, which I was surprised that my mom had put in the box. I wonder if she hadn't really looked at anything before she sent it, just threw in a couple of jewelry boxes and miscellaneous shoe boxes of things to sort out later.

We then got out my things and I showed the kids the rings from when they were born. I also came across Hal's grandpa's wedding ring that he had inherited. I have to mention here, because it is so ironic, Hal HATES jewelry. As in, he gets wigged out if he has to pick up a ring or something. That's why it is so ironic that it is almost comical that he ended up with his grandpa's ring and his brother got the sword that was used in the Battle of Waterloo. Hal is a huge history buff. Oh well. Anyway, I showed the kids that ring too and Austin was very interested in it.

After we looked a little and Morgan found a couple of necklaces to try when her dress comes back, I put all the jewelry away. That was pretty much the end of this story, as far as I knew. This was on Saturday.

Monday, late in the afternoon I was in the kitchen starting to fix dinner. My nice neighbor, Valerie, called me. She said, "I have a strange question to ask you. Our neighbor girl is here and she has a really nice ring with a green stone that she says Austin gave her on the bus. It looks like a REALLY nice ring. Not one a kid would have."

For a minute I started to say I didn't know what she was talking about and that it was probably fine, but then it slowly dawned on me . . . . . . my mom's jewelry! Austin was pretty interested in it. The only thing I couldn't figure out is why he gave it to that particular girl. He was better friend's with Valerie's daughter. I told Valerie that yes, I definitely needed that ring back. I had her ask the girls if they had seen any other rings. The whole time I kept stirring my dinner, trying to make sense in my head of what had happened. She checked and the girls said he had a bunch of rings in ring boxes at school, and on the bus AND at church.

I then hung up the phone and tried to talk to Austin, who vehemently denied everything. It is REALLY hard to get any kind of concrete information out of someone who just doesn't want you to know how bad the situation really is. He started crying hysterically and saying he was sorry he'd ever been born!

Valerie came over a couple of minutes later with a ring that WAS really nice and I didn't even recognize as one of my mom's that I had seen because there were so many of them. Valerie then told me some more information. Austin had also told the girls that he knew where the rings were hidden and also mentioned a wedding ring. Well, I RAN to my room because on Sunday I was sitting in church and had realized that I forgot to put on my wedding ring. It was Monday and I'd been home all day so I hadn't bothered to put on any jewelry. My ring wasn't where I had left it, but I did find it close by. I went back to Valerie and was talking again when I remembered the rings of mine that I had shown the kids. I sent Morgan back to check on them in my jewelry box. It took her a while, but she said it looked like they were all there. After a few more minutes, what Valerie had said rang another bell in my head. Wedding ring. I had shown Austin Grandpa Fronk's wedding ring. I sent Morgan back again to check on that one because she said she didn't remember seeing it. She was gone a LONG time, so I let Valerie go then because I was quietly freaking out. Morgan hadn't found it yet, but after searching we finally did find that ring. Valerie also reconfirmed the fact that Austin had taken rings to church AND given one to the Primary teacher. (So why hadn't SHE called me?)

Morgan then remembered that he did have some kind of fancy boxes in the pockets of his church pants, so she started searching around to see what she could find. I do remember thinking it was awfully easy the day before to get him to hand over his magic wand and long pointy finger on a stick thing that he is always sneaking in his pants at church. Usually he puts up a fight and sneaks them into his Primary class. I should have known something else was up.

By this time Austin could tell he was going to be in some pretty big trouble, so he high tailed it out of there. He ran to his room while Valerie was there and I couldn't find him for a long time. Really, there aren't many places he can hide in his room and I knew he hadn't run back past me so he had to be somewhere in one of the bedrooms or bathroom. I checked under all the beds and in all the closets. Finally, Ally (my fabulous middle child) found him hiding under his covers like the little coward he is. (Yes, I am still mad, even almost two weeks later.)

Well, after a long, mostly one-sided conversation with Austin; me conversing and possibly yelling at times, him crying hysterically, I found out a little more. Austin admitted he had also given a ring to his friend Dallin, along with Martha and the Primary teacher. Valerie had called back saying that her girls also saw him give a ring to a boy named Jackson and some unidentified "blond girl" on the bus.

(to be continued, because I am too emotionally wiped out to finish...)

Edited to add: Long story short - recovered 3 rings; never got back anything from "Jackson", though I talked to two different Jacksons' moms and never figured out exactly which blond girl on the bus was the recipient of my son's generosity. This was also the same week my daughter, Ally, split her head open at 6:30 a.m. the day I was supposed to talk to the bus driver. When I finally did talk to him, a week later, he said I should have talked to him the week before and it was probably too late to do anything about it.

Anyway, here is the result of Ally's misfortune, eight shiny new stitches, luckily somewhat hidden in the eyebrow region.

And here is Morgan in her prom dress with the one necklace that kind of matched it.

Here's hoping that next week is better. (And NO, I haven't told my mom yet, so if you see her, just smile and say "Hi." and then just keep on keepin' on. Thanks.)

Apparently I Need Reading Glasses Too....

Ok, so I was getting ready for bed the other day. On my bathroom counter I found this cute little card that said "Uplift With Courage". It seemed like a nice little sentiment.

I started thinking to myself that maybe I should stick it on the mirror in the kids' bathroom, just to give them a little boost.

Maybe it will inspire them to be a little nicer to the kids at school or in their group of young women at church, I thought. Maybe it will inspire them to run for President someday. Maybe, just maybe.....

Maybe I should have looked a little closer. Upon further inspection I realized that it actually said, "Uplift with COVERAGE".

Uplift with coverage? Huh? What does that even mean?

Then I realized where I had seen that little card before. It came off of the bra I had bought the day before.