The Lola Letters

Dear Tennyson,

2012-01-26T23:40:00.000-08:00

Aw!

 Little buddy!

What happened?

Did you push all of your toys off of that shelf, and then climb on up and get yer lil' self stuck?

Fer SAD!

Don't worry! 

I'll save you!

...riiiiight after I grab my camera.

Xo,

Yer Mom 

Dear Egg Nog,

2012-01-10T12:27:00.000-08:00

We would drink you on a train,

We would drink you in the rain,

In a trough mixed with pig slop,

Even on a counter top!

On a couch or in a chair,

In pants, or just plain underwear!

{And for you, we'll even SHARE.}

We hate that you're a seasonal slog,

We do not like it, dear egg nog!

We would drink you in September,

in October, in November!

We'd chug you in the summer heat,

We'd sip you in the freezing sleet.

We'd drink in spring when flowers pop up,

We're always game to have a cup!

So, dear egg nog, here's our plea:

After Christmas, please don't flee!

We'll drink you for a resolution, 

and to celebrate the constitution.

We'll drink you in the name of love,

toast leprechauns and  turtle doves.

We'll drink you with the Easter Bunny,

We'll drink you when the sun is sunny.

We'll drink you during any season...

Heck! We'll drink you for no reason!

Xoxo,

Kortland

and Tennyson

Dear Self,

2011-12-05T09:51:00.000-08:00

Hey! Remember tonight?
Tonight was great.

Remember how you and the hubs decided to sit on the floor in Tennyson's room and read some books to him, and play some puzzles with him, and push trucks around the room with him,and just spend some quality time with him before putting him in bed for the night? Yeah, that was awesome.

Then, remember how Jordan wandered in and sat down and started playing with the puzzles too, and telling us about her busy schedule the next day, and then Kort wandered in and jumped on the hubs' back, and the hubs flipped him to the ground and started wresting with him, and then Tens thought that Kort was getting hurt so he started bawling, so then Kort laughed really loud so that Tens wouldn't worry or be sad, and then Tens started laughing this like, really huge, fake laugh, and then that made the rest of us laugh for reals, which made Tens fake-laugh even harder, which, in turn, made us laugh even harder?

Yeah, that was awesome too.

And then, remember how you all sat around laughing and talking and enjoying time together? And remember how you didn't snap at Kort to "Be quiet!" or "Knock it off!"? And remember how Tennyson just wandered from one person to the next doling out squishy-wet kisses, and then applauding himself for being oh so generous/fantastic? Yeah.

Good times.

But do remember last week when you "decided" that it was "special family time" so you called everyone into the living room and told them it was special family time, and that you were all going to do special family stuff together...right now?

And do you remember how you had all of these weird and rigid expectations like:
1. Your A.D.D-ridden 8 year old would sit quietly and respectfully and not say/do anything annoying.
2.Your one year old would play happily on his own and not fuss and whine and squawk at you when you refuse to let him him rip the Christmas book out of your hands.
3. Your one year old would not try unceasingly to pull the Christmas tree down on himself for the hundredth time.
4. Your one year old wouldn't rip paper poinsettias off of the tree, eat them, spit them out, and then proceed to try to feed them to the dogs.
5. Your 8 year old would not {under any circumstances} go switch the ipod playlist from "Christmas music" to the Kid's Bop versions of "Tonight, Tonight" and/or Bruno Mars' "The Lazy Song" and start breakdancing in the middle of the room.

{By the by, on a scale of one to ten, exactly how evil am I for regularly plotting the death of Bruno Mars?}

and finally, that brings us to rigid expectation #6:

6. Everything would go as planned and everyone would have a simply fantastic time and you would make happy, wonderful memories together. Memories that your children would look back upon with great fondness and love someday in the not too distant future...?

Remember that?
Yeah, that kind of sucked.
Expectations have a funny way of ruining...well, everything.

Now, I'm not saying you need to LOWER your expectations...per se,
but mayhaps we could explore the possibility of simply not having them at all...sometimes...yes?

Yes, lets.

I think we'll call it "Zero Expectation Family Time." No rules, no plans, no schedule, no expectations, no set days. even if only for 15 minutes. Just a suggestion.

Xo,
You

Dear Anyone Who is Looking for a REALLY GREAT Babysitter,

2011-11-30T10:22:00.000-08:00

My niece Jordan wants to earn some extra money babysitting, so I just wanted to get the word out to all of my friends and family.
*She is 15 years old.
*She is also AMAZINGLY responsible and super great with kids.
*She is a cheerleader, and has a busy basketball schedule during many of the weekdays, BUT the awesome news is, she is available on Friday and Saturday! {Which, I know is a really hard time to find a sitter – so, yay!}
*Also, over the Christmas break, she will be totally available {no school, no games} so she would be a great resource for those of you who are hoping to get some last minute Christmas errands run sans the kiddoes.

*Also, I am happy to run her to and from her babysitting jobs if you are farther away. So you can still hire her even if she isn’t the closest sitter in your area cause she will just magically appear on your doorstep at the scheduled time, mmmkay? {Bonus!}

*Also, she isn’t setting a specific price. Just pay her what you usually pay your sitters and that will be great.
*Also, she is DARLING and really nice. Kids love her! {See photos...you know, if you can't just take my word for it...Sass.}
*Email me {ldugovic@yahoo.com} for more information and/or to schedule a day. Thanks!

Xo,
Lola

Dear Tennyson,

I see that you love pictures ALMOST as much as your daddy does.
Oi.

Xo,
Yer Mom

Dear Journal, {Circa April 9 & 10, 1995.}

2011-11-28T22:18:00.000-08:00

{Modern Vogue Photography.}

{Tennyson's DARLING picture has nothing to do with the post, but I thought it needed a little somfin' somfin' extra}

{Welcome to Tell All Tuesday, yo! These are excerpts from the journal I kept when I was fourteen. Nothing has been added to or taken away from the following entries:}

4.9.95

Dear Journal,

In a few weeks, I will be in the speech meet telling RETOLD STORIES!
I will be telling:
"Who Put the Pepper in the Pot?"
"Up Goes Mr. Downs"
and "The Cat's Pajamas"

Me and my brother Bryan (15) have had problems in the past, but now that we're getting older, we get along a lot better. I {heart} cheerleading so much. I have TONZ more to say, but that will have to wait until tomorrow.

{heart}
Laura

P.s. Bryan is a stud.

4.10.95

Dear Journal,

I have no idea why I ever say nice things about Bryan! I guess it's because he's so messed up! One minute he's a really nice brother, the next, he's a total jerk! I borrowed his plaid shirt today and he chewed me out, but when he takes my cd player without asking, it's no big deal! Tonight during family night he kept on being rude and making fun of me, but all my parents do is laugh cause it's so funny when he hurts my feelings! Then I'm sure that they'll come in and tell me that I'm being too sensitive and he's funny. Same old story. Well, it's not gonna happen this time cause my door is locked and my music is blasting.

Today was okay. I found out that a boy named Brandon Allen likes me. Well, I think that he's nice, but I don't want to have a boyfriend right now {or any time real soon!}

I just found out that we get to go to Park City for 2 days, and I might even get a new dress for speech meet. I am singing in church on April 30th with my mom and I'm so excited..
I want to get these really cool hair extensions for my birthday cause I have thin hair.
I'll be sure to write everything about the trip.

{heart}
Laura
P.s. Bryan is a weenie. {mood swing.}

A few follow up letters 

{from 31 year old Lola}:

Dear Kurt Cobain, 

Thanks for the plaid shirt craze you sent us all into.
Pretty sure I milked that one a good 3-4 years after it was done for.

xo,
Lola

Dear Bryan,

Sorry I called you a weenie.

You'll go ahead and forgive me for being just a little bit excited for the day when Lily writes that Jack is a "weenan" in her journal though, won't you? Cause I am going to RELISH every second of that.

Oh, and sorry that I took your shirt without asking.

On an entirely different note, I'm also sorry that I bumped "Gangsta's Paradise" non-stop for the better part of a year. {I couldn't help that I was so gangsta.I am what I am.} However, that must have stunk considering our bedroom doors were all of three feet apart. I would have been a weenie to me too.

xo,
Lola

Dear 14 Year Old Lola,

I so love that you can at least acknowledge that you're a titch on the mood-swingy side. Spot on.

Also, I think I know where our son gets his ADD:
"I get a new dress. I'm going to Park City. I want hair extensions. I'm singing in church"

Yikes.
Get pills.
Get them now.

Xo,
31 Year Old Lola

P.s. LOVED the bit about your door being locked and your music being blast-y - 10 points for a statement perfectly RIFE with teenage angst-i-ness. You should be a writer for One Tree Hill or The Vampire Diaries or something.

Dear Mom,

Just so you know, it was pretty much DEVASTATING that you refused to get those hair extensions for me. Because of you, Julie Duncan successfully stole, let me see, um EVERY boyfriend I had/guy that I liked from 8th through 11th grade. Those Emery County boys love them a thick, shiny head of hair...and you just WOULD NOT let me level the playing field with clip-in hair extensions for 5 easy payments of $19.99!

I hope you're happy.

~~Xo,~~
14 Year Old Lola

Dear Mom,

Thanks for teaching me that I should love myself the way that I am.
Got it.
{Well, most days...}

Xo,
31 Year Old Lola

Dear Julie Duncan,

I still like you.
It's not your fault that you have such great hair.
Water under the bridge if you ask me.

Xo,
31 Year Old AND 14 Year Old Lola

Dear Journal,

2011-11-28T12:05:00.000-08:00

11.28.2011

{Would YOU want to spend all day every day with this lady? Yeah, that's what I thought.}

I'm feeling like a really, really happy little failure right now.
Strange, but true.

So, the home-school thing didn't work out.

In a lot of ways, I loved it.

I loved having in-depth discussions about serious/cool topics, like the Salem Witch Trials...or the big debate about whether or not Springville residents should vote for a tax raise in order to fund a rec center. It was cool to give Kort all of the facts, and then let him suss out the details and decide what he thought for himself

I loved seeing his love for reading reignite.

I loved seeing his love for art and writing reignite.

I loved our home-school field trip group.

I really loved the good days.

Then there were the not so good days.

Days when I felt like I just couldn't get it all done.

Kort didn't want to listen. I didn't want to teach. The dishes were two days old, and Tennyson seemed like a chubby, grunt-y, scoot-y, delicious little shadow far off in the distance who I vaguely remembered, but...?

Then there was the fact that I didn't get to take any more naps. {Go ahead and minus 50 points right there.}

Then there was also the fact that I started taking Metformin again because we really want to have another baby {it's totally okay for me to try for baby number three even though I'm just a sub-par mom...yes? ...right? ...maybe?}and that Metformin makes me feel like I am going to throw up pretty much all the time, and that makes it extra hard to want to crawl out of bed, put my game face on, and teach 6 hours of home-school to a rambunctious eight year old.

Then there's that whole thing where "NOT teaching home-school" sort of defeats the purpose of "home-schooling," and such. You know, there's ALWAYS that.

So I would have to push through, but I wouldn't be very nice, and that's a problem, because I promised myself that I would be nice, but I feel like poo, and I'm tired, and being nice is just a really tall order for a tired mom who feels like poo, so I would end up being mean, and then I would go to bed that night feeling all sorts of devastated that I had been mean, and feeling like home-schooling {or my failure to do it well} was going to drive me and Kort further apart rather than bringing us closer together like I hoped it would.

{Breath.}

Then I would wake up the next morning resolved to do better.
And I would.
And we would have great experiences, and lots of positive strides.

And then I took Kort to a "Thanksgiving Etiquette Dinner" that was being put on by his home-school group. He had such an amazing time. He was polite and respectful. He had a blast with the other kids. After the etiquette lesson, we let the kids run around the church gym and play for about an hour. Again, Kort loved every second of it, and I thought to myself

"This just might work afterall."

Then we went out to get in the van, and found that the Elementary School kids {right next door} were all out on the playground screaming and running and swinging and having a ball, and Kort turned to me with watery eyes and the tight "I'm trying really hard not to cry but it's not really working" strain in his voice and says:

"Mom, I really, really, really, wish I hadn't messed up."

"I know," I say. {Wanting to bawl, myself.}

And it just stinks, ya know?

Parenting is wonderful, and MAN it is hard too.

Despite my best efforts {which, let's be honest, probably aren't all that awesome or impressive}he longs to go to school where he can see his friends, and eat yucky lunches, and learn things alongside his peers.

I decided that a full month at home with me was probably punishment enough, {for both parties} and that he could try serving out the remaining six months as a suspended sentence. If he still has problems with behavior, I'm thinking that I'll try having him scrub toilets with a toothbrush, THAT is a little more "win/win" in my humble opinion. {Which, I guess is also dependent upon whose toothbrush he uses to do the scrubbing.}

Part of me still loves the idea of home-school and is really sad that we just can't hack it.

Part of me is jumping for joy because this morning I fed kids and sent them out the door, went walking the hills with a favorite neighb, put the baby down for a nap, ate a delicious snack, read a book, wrote a blog from bed, and NOW I'm fixin to have me a little nap.

So, I'm a failure.
But sometimes failure feels really good.
Who knew?

Xo,
Lola

To whom it may concern:

2011-11-20T23:09:00.000-08:00

Home-schooling is a lot of work.
Kinda nuts, really.
It doesn't leave whole lot of time for...
well...

ANY blogging.

Or checking my email...
Or checking facebook...

I pretty much read a lot.
Teach a precocious 8 year old a lot.
Take care of a hilarious toddler a lot.

You know, mom stuff.
Just being a mom.

So...
uh...
yeah....

I guess I'll see ya when I see ya.
hm.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Mothers Without Borders Boutique,

2011-11-04T22:17:00.000-07:00

Wow! You have some seriously fun stuff going on there!

Beautiful Necklace with Zambian coin inside.

I loved these carved bracelets.

And this bird pillow made me laugh! So funky and charming! "Put a bird on it" I always say. {Okay, I don't ALWAYS say that... but I should.}

And I loved all of the fun quotes:

Those Santa quotes cracked me up. That is SO Kortland, all the way.

One of my very favorite things you had there. I wanted ALL of these. {Vintage throw-back light switch plates}

Oh so cute!

And all of those children's books for only $1 each? You are a new home-school mother's dream come true!

Coolest salt and pepper shakers I've ever seen.

Buy one of these for every member of my family? Check.

Aw. Loved this.

And this.

And you are speakin' my language with all that chunky jewelry.

And I think this would be so great in a child's nursery.

Hand-sewn African dolls. Loved these.

And more chunky jewelry - yay!

Hand-carved African Nativity Set.

Yes. Fact. We should.

Beautiful hand-carved items. {Like, giraffes}.

And these things are made by craftsmen in Zambia, and the money made selling these things go back to Zambia to support children. Double score.

And a hand-carved Noah's Ark...?

And a gorgeous hand-carved globe?

Stop. It. Right. Now.

I love it all.
Good job, Mothers Without Borders Boutique.
Well done.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Friends,

To see more of the fun stuff available at the boutique, you might want to go to here.
Tomorrow {Saturday, November 5th} is the last day to shop! So get down there! It's at the Greek Orthodox Church in downtown Salt Lake.

100% of the proceeds go directly to the kiddos. Win/win.

Xo,
Lola

Dear anyone who wants to find beautiful, one of a kind Christmas gifts AND help a wonderful organization at the same time,

2011-11-03T09:57:00.000-07:00

The Mothers Without Borders 6th Annual Charity Boutique

will be held this year on November 4th and 5th

at the Greek Orthodox Church in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah.

In the past, the Boutiques have raised thousands of dollars for orphans in Zambia. These events feature handmade crafts and goods that are donated from local Utah crafters as well as beautiful treasures made by the orphans, women, and craftsman of Zambia. {That's one of my favorite parts.} The Boutique is organized by Mothers Without Borders volunteers who generously give their time and talents. The Boutique organizers recognize that the event offers Zambians an incredible opportunity to sell their goods with 100% of the profits returning to their communities. Each piece comes with a story and many of the handmade pieces come with a photo of the artisan.

This year renowned Christian artist Liz Lemon Swindle will be in attendance to sign copies of her African Painting "Worth of a Soul". All proceeds from the sale of "Worth of a Soul" are donated to Mothers Without Borders. Also our Zambian Program Director, Josephine Daka, will be available to talk about her work with Mothers Without Borders & answer questions. Josephine joined the Church in 1996, and has served as Primary President in her branch for the past 6 years. She is truly a modern day pioneer!

MY personal favorite thing about supporting the boutique each year is that it makes it possible for me to give my friends and loved ones unique, wonderful gifts while ALSO knowing that the purchase of each gift creates a better life for children in Zambia. Win, win. Yay! 

Mothers Without Borders was started by Kathy Headlee Miner in 1992 in response to the global orphan crisis. Since it's inception MWB has worked in Romania, India, Bolivia, Honduras, Ecuador, Mexico, Zambia, Indonesia, Zimbabwe, Madagascar, Guatemala, Northern Uganda, Sudan and the US.

MWB is now focusing their efforts in Africa, with regional Headquarters in Lusaka, Zambia. According to the UN Report on Orphans and Vulnerable Children there are more than 147 million orphans around the world, and every day more than 6,100 children lose a parent to AIDS. Mothers Without Borders is addressing the crisis by:

1. Strengthening Families by helping them improve food production, increase income and job skills, AIDS awareness, education and prevention.
2. Empowering Women through literacy and education, skills training, micro credit loans and stipends for those willing to raise orphans as their own.
3. Protecting Children found in child headed households by providing them with a safe place to live, clean water and food, grief counseling, education, HIV awareness, medical care, skills training and caring adults to encourage and guide them.

In addition to the Zambian program staff that MWB employs, we also coordinate volunteer expeditions and currently about 100 volunteers take advantage of this opportunity annually. Volunteers typically:

• Visit a 'typical' hospital and the unit that cares for pre-mature babies. Follow
and learn from a home-based care
worker as she visits TB and AIDS patients in their humble homes in the outskirts of the capital city.
• Help with simple construction, i.e. one room schools, poultry houses, dormitories & village homes. Dig trenches, make mud bricks, and clear farm land at our Family Resource Center.
• Share life skills with orphans living at the MWB Children’s Resource Center. Work in the garden with the
caregivers and children. Sing, dance & play with the children.
• Assist our able staff as they teach AIDS awareness and prevention to widows and orphans.
• Teach sewing, knitting, crocheting and other simple skills.
• Assist with health screenings in a local village.

So anyway - go visit the boutique this weekend! Take your mom. Meet up with girlfriends. You will love it.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Self, {pumpkin carving edition.}

2011-10-31T15:49:00.000-07:00

A few observations and some things to remember for next year:

1. Bella is a shameles photobomber.
2. You should pay more attention to the hubs when taking group pictures because 1}he doesn't like getting his picture taken, and thus, is...um..."difficult." and 2} he thinks he's downright hilarious.
3. Pretend laughing is awesome. ALWAYS a good idea when taking pictures.
4. DO NOT {under any circumstances}let your kid wear a shirt WITH HIS SCHOOL'S NAME ON IT while taking pictures that you plan to put on your blog...unless you want to spend 20 some-odd minutes photo-shopping it out... if that's the case, then by all means, let him wear whatever!
5. Put the mop and broom away...or they will be in the corner bugging you when reminiscing about Halloween 2011.
6. Roast pumpkin seeds every year and eat them hot out of the oven. Mmmmm. And don't burn them, kay? Not ever again. They are so yummy when you don't burn them.
7. Don't let the fifteen year old use a knife all by her lone. OR, if you do, have a lot of bandaids on hand.
8. The eight year old can use a knife though. {FACE! Fifteen year old!}
9. Your kid REALLY loves this. {And you REALLY do too.} Don't ever get too busy or too old for this, kay? Not ever. This is important.
10. Make out with the hubs anyway. He can't help it if he's not as photogenic as the rest of your little clan. So be nice.

{FACE! would-be kidnappers. FACE!}

Xo,
Lola

Dear anyone who feels like singing along,

2011-10-26T11:30:00.000-07:00

He's got the whole world in his hands...

He's got the whole world in his hands.

He's got the whole world in his hands...

The whole WORLD in his hands.

Dear Journal,

2011-10-25T11:04:00.000-07:00

{Circa April 24th 1997}

Wow journal!
It's been 4-ever!

Well, cheerleading tryouts were the 21 &22 of this month, and I made it! Well, I really need to go to bed tonight, but I'll say a few things first. I asked my friend Chuck Butler to Sadies tonight. I put glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling w/ some of them forming a '?' and left a note asking him to go with me.We're gonna have a paintball war in the mountains for our date. {I'm so excited} Sadie Hawkins is May 10. We're picking out cheerleading uniforms May 8 and I can't wait for that either.

Well, I'm feeling pretty lousy right now because I feel like, I'm not very special. It's like, everyone has a boyfriend or someone special who cares about them... EXCEPT ME! I feel alone in this world. I also feel fat and ugly around people like Chantel and Darshell. Really, I do. I don't understand why it's not worth it to me to eat right and stuff. Chantel got 6 yellow roses from a secret admirer today, I haven't received roses for a darn thing yet. I just wish that for once I could be the girl who walks into a room and catches everybody's eye.

Umm.... forget that one!

Goodnight.

Dear 16 year old Lola,

* Very hip use of the number "4" in place of the WORD "for"? Check.

* Cheerleading tryouts? Check.

* Ask a boy to a dance in a cheesy, cheesy, and entirely unoriginal manner but be super-pleased with yourself anyway? Check.

* Compare yourself brutally to your prettier friends. Check.

* Hate yourself for eating too many Swedish Fish at lunch time and hate your body/wish you were someone else? Check.

* Look to boys {and various other factors outside of your control} to give your life meaning and purpose? Check.

* Feel deflated and sorry for yourself when EVERYBODY gets roses...except YOU? Check.

Conclusion: You did a great job at having the classic {albeit overly absorbed, and just a titch too dramatic}high school existence! Go you!

{And, thanks for snapping out of it. You know...eventually.}

Xo,
31 Year Old Lola

Dear Friends,

My lovely friend Shannan has started her own photography business, and she recently did our family photos, and I looooove them. And NOW, she has agreed to let me do a photography package giveaway here on my blog! Yay! Just in time for family Christmas card photos! Weeeee!

Stay tuned for details...
You can see some of her work here and here.

Xo,
Lola

To whom it may concern:

2011-10-23T22:38:00.000-07:00

Home school is actually going really well! I honestly was afraid that much of it would consist of me yelling at my kid and wanting to tear my hair out, but guess what? We really, really like each other! {Crazy, right?} Methinks mayhaps I was right about him needing more one on one time with yours truly. {I have 2 SERIOUS momma's boys on my hands...}

Seriously, I love this. 

I feel a little bad, because I told Kort that he can go back to school for fourth grade and see if he can have awesome behavior and such, BUT I am such a converted home-schooler in my heart, that I kinda don't even want to. {But, I still will if that's what he wants, and he can show repect and work hard.}

Every morning, we start out with family devotional. We sing songs, talk about "big" things, read from the scriptures, memorize articles of faith and inspirational poems from Grandpa Headlee's compilation of his favorite poems and quotes...it's just the BEST way to start our day.

Then he works on math. He is so good at math, he could prolly teach me a thing or two. {And for those of you who are concerned that someone who writes/uses the word "prolly" is home-schooling an 8 year old, unto you I say: "Worry not." I am fully aware that prolly is not, in fact, a word. However, I adore how it looks on the page as well as how it rolls off the tongue. So there.}

Then we KILL IT with the spelling {he loves it, and is a fast learner.} and memorizing states and capitals. We also started a "State Book" {my idea}where Kort reads a fact card about the state of his choice, and then makes a poster {8 x 11 sheet of paper}showing the state, capital, state bird, state flower, and additional pictures that represent different facts about each state.

One of my favorites was where he drew a rat to signify that Delaware was the first state to "RATify the U.S. Constitution. Awesomeness to the extreme.

We learn science. We do science experiments in the kitchen. We have found an AWESOME online game called "Powder Toy" that teaches him chemistry {like, gangbusters} and he doesn't even notice that he's learning ... which is incredible! He thinks he is partying it up with 15 minutes of free time, but NO! He's LEARNING! YAY! Score one for mom trickery.

When it's lunch time - guess what? It's home ec time too! He is learning to COOK, people. Is he gonna be a catch, or what?

I hate to say it {okay, no I don't} but I was kind of super-right about the whole "other kids being a mega distraction" thing. Without all of the cute girls and cool buddies to impress, he is so focused. Unbelievably focused.

Three weeks ago, I could have sworn that the kid needed Ritalin.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
He needed a different environment.

Isn't it just amazing that God can speak to us, and, if we will listen, we can often get insight and direct answers to prayer? I ~~sort of~~ REALLY think that is just amazing.

I love getting out huge bins of art supplies and letting him just create whatever he wants.
I REALLY love his creative writing time, too.
I folded stacks of white paper in half and stapled them into little books so they could feel all "official" and what not, then I found a bunch story prompts online and Kort is really diggin' em!

They say things like:
"Write a story where you are the captain of a pirate ship."
Or
"Write a story titled: The Baby Dragon."

He just eats it right up.
He even dedicated the dragon book to me and Kyle. {Aw.}
He is thriving, and I love that I get to be there to see it every day.

{Painted coffee filters. We are going to string them into a garland.}

AND, another wonderful thing: He has started writing and drawing and creating all on his own again! I haven't seen that for 4 years. He is drawing detailed story boards and making books filled with drawings of his inventions with detailed instructions about how they work. He writes his own math problems and solves them... on SATURDAY when he is SO NOT required to be doing school stuff. It's wonderful.

So, I know this might sound all sorts of brag-y, but it's really not meant to be.

It's just that, well, I thought that there was a good possibility that our little home-school adventure would end in a screeching, halting, fire-y, burn-y, horrid nightmare of a train wreck. And miracle of all miracles, it hasn't. {Ahem. Um, so far.}

 So sue me if I feel that a little rejoicing is in order.

No, seriously. Sue me. Do it.
I have a pedophile van with your name on it, baby.

Xo,
Lola Bef.

Dear Lisa Bloom,

2011-10-13T19:32:00.000-07:00

Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World by Lisa Bloom

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I was really excited about your book, but about 30 pages into it, I realized that you are kind of {and by "kind of", I mean extremely} a feminist/liberal/bleeding heart who is nothing short of positive that we can {and SHOULD!} go all sorts of nuts about the looming threat of global warming.

Really, Lisa? Really?

Um, have you like, noticed how like, scientists say that way back in prehistoric olden times, there was an ice age...? And have you noticed how, like, scientists have found the fossils of sea creatures in high altitude deserts? Methinks that mayhaps the earth is a violent, turbulent, active, and unpredicatable place to live.

I mean, yeah, our carbon footprint is enormous and we need to manufacture less, recycle more and blah blah blah... but I can't help but feel that part of "thinking" includes knowing what to expend your emotional/intellectual energy on...and I'm pretty sure obsessing about global warming is a huge waste of time.

Then again, I might not care so much due to the simple fact that I used my "thinker" several years ago when purchasing a home, and opted to purchase a residence in an area that isn't slated to be swallowed whole by the ocean at the first hint of global warming... so I guess there's that. In fact, there's a good chance that my property values will be sky high when the ocean eats Cali and Nevada and makes my 'hood the new "ocean front property." Sweet!

Okay, but seriously.

I really liked this book. {Once I set my "feminist/liberal/bleeding-heart" filter to a 10.} You actually make a lot of awesome points and the statistics shared at the beginning are mind boggling.

"25% of young American women would rather win America's Next Top Model than the Nobel Peace Prize."

And

"Twenty-three percernt would rather LOSE THEIR ABILITY TO READ than their figures."

...?

Someone please tell me this is a joke.

I love that your book made the idea of ever picking up another tabloid while waiting in line at the grocery store seem UTTERLY embarrassing.

I LOVE the way you make both women AND the media accountable for feeding into tabloid crap.

I LOVED the whole section about Angelina Jolie. Drove your point home super well.

I love that your book made me want to not only think, but also to act.

It was fantastic.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who has a fabulous feminist/liberal/bleeding heart filter.

Xo,
Lola

P.s. And seriously, chill on the global warming thing. It's not that we are too stupid to believe that it could happen, or even that it IS CURRENTLY AT THIS VERY MOMENT HAPPENING, it's just that we like, have more important things to worry about. Like world peace...and when the next Justin Bieber album is coming out. {Obviously.}And don't even get me started on Brangelina. My guess is: she's pregnant with triplets AND adopting a baby {or two} from Zimbabwe. How can I focus on global warming at a time like this? Get your priorities straight.

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Dear anyone who was left hanging with a sense of fear and foreboding for the well-being of my "spirited" 3rd grader after reading last Thursday's Post,

2011-10-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

Unto you, I say:
Don't worry.

In the famed words of the grubby villager who claimed to have been turned into a newt courtesy of an alleged village witch in "Monty Python and The Holy Grail"... {Yes, I said that in one breath, obviously.}

"I got better."

{disclaimer: pictures have nothing to do with content...but they sure are cute.}

I'm just gonna come right out and say it: I sensed a few "judgment-y vibes" coming my way after publishing my post last week. I sensed some tick-tick-ticking of some tongues, and disapproving shaking of heads as some of you sat at your laptops {aghast!} as you took in my most recent Lola Letter. I also sensed that some of you had a good laugh at my expense, which, I am far more pleased about... but back to the worriers.

Seriously, don't worry.
It was a bad day.

I know that the tone of my post prolly painted the frightening picture of a not too distant future where my cute little 8 year old is chained to a make-shift desk in a dank basement being whipped at the top of every hour and made to write 1,000 sentences {in CURSIVE, no less} that read "I am a bad, bad boy, and I should have obeyed my teacher!!!" every single day.

I got a few comments and emails saying: "Ummmm, mayhaps if you hate the prospect of homeschooling so much, you uh, I don't know... SHOULDN'T DO IT!"

A fair point indeed.
However, I don't hate the idea of homeschooling.

I was just a little bit devastated that my son's behavior hasn't improved one iota over the course of his 3+ years of elementary education. I felt like a failure of a mother {who, in all fairness had also just been assaulted by vulgar weather... in a fa-lipping Walmart parking lot...right after she had showered and blow-dried her hair...no less}. I felt scared, and frustrated, and like things were never going to get better. I also felt indescribably inadequate to accomplish the task that I had laid at my own feet via an overly emotional threat made 4-5 weeks prior.

Teachers are trained.
Teachers go to years of school.

What on the planet of earth was I thinking?

Fast forward to now.
I've had time to process.
The sun is shining.
I have cute, un-soggy hair.

It is all going to be fine.

No, not just fine, amazing.

Here are some factors that were not included in last Thursdays rant, but should most definitely be considered as a vital part of:

"The Dugovic Family's general overview of why we are going to home school our children."

DISCLAIMER: This is not intended to be an attack on public schools or school teachers. Many of these institutions are ENTIRELY AMAZING. Kort's first and second and third grade teachers have all been incredible. I respect and admire them more than words can say. Teachers are angels. Patient, loving, oft-abused angels I tell ya. The fact of the matter is, PUBLIC SCHOOL IS SIMPLY NOT WORKING FOR MY CHILD. It's not. Period. I have had to do some soul searching and find a different path because I want him to be the best he can be...and public school seems to be bringing the worst out in him more often than not. There are MANY children who thrive in a public school setting and that is a wonderful thing. It just isn't working for us. I have tried desperately to FORCE a round peg into a square hole, and trying to force something that simply isn't a good fit has proven to be exasperating and also nothing short of detrimental to my relationship with one of the most important people in my life. And it stops now.

{In no particular order}

1. First, and foremost, I have felt spiritually prompted to home school for almost 2 years now. This one is a little embarrassing to admit because well, it's basically saying that I have fought off/ ignored{plugged my ears and went "La-la-la-la-la!" in the general direction of} a spiritual prompting regarding my family for hundreds and hundreds of days. So, there's that.

2. My kid is a genius. A really, good-looking one, with a great sense of humor, and a knack for making friends. {Sheesh! Bragging overload. It's like this is being written by his mother or something...}But seriously. He's amazing. At age four, he was full-on reading and BEGGING me to teach him to write his letters and then practicing them for hours, and writing little notes to everyone, and drawing pictures, and reading on his bean bag all by himself for hours on end...

Then he went to kindergarten and learned that doing those things was "work." Well that was the end of that blissful chapter of our lives. From that day on, it was a battle to get him to read or write anything. The love for learning whooshed out of him like the air from an untied balloon. It was devastating.

3. Social interaction is to Kortland, what crack is to a meth-head. For realsies. Sending Kortland to public school and expecting him to focus and/or learn something, is like sending a meth addict into a crack house and expecting them to do, well... ANYTHING other than get high all day. Kortland LIVES to make kids laugh. He likes to flirt with girls. Being the center of attention makes him so high, he can barely see straight...and more often than not, he doesn't. So, he's disrespectful. He'll do anything for a laugh. That becomes his M.O. Learning, listening, and anything scholastic takes a back seat {waaaaaaay in the back} to talking, laughing, goofing, showing off, etc. I am excited for him to have the opportunity to delve deeply into science and geography topics without being distracted by his constant need to impress or please others.

4. When I went to teach my kid about the birds and the bees {at age 8, an age that MOST of my friends and family still felt was too early}, I learned that someone in public school beat me to it. Um, like, a full YEAR ago. Awesome. I'll admit that at that point, I sort of wanted to put that child {and their parent(s), if I'm being honest} in my basement and subject them to regular floggings for roughly a month.

I wanted {and had planned}to present intimacy to my son as one of the most spectacular, beautiful, sacred experiences we will have in this lifetime. Instead, some little turd missing half his teeth {as you'll notice, most 2nd graders are}told my kid that it's where two people get naked together and it's "totally gross and disgusting."

Great.
Check.

In a nutshell, I'm done letting the offspring of parents who aren't clued in {and really don't care} school my child about the finer things in life. I'm also done letting the offspring of parents who have cable packages that include HBO and Showtime and Skinamax have any access to my child whatsoever. Period.

5. School doesn't teach him anything about who he REALLY is. In fact, they are required by law NOT to. I think that this is a huge problem, for obvious reasons.

He is a child of God. {Literally.} He has infinite potential. {Fact.} And if the public school system is going to take almost SEVEN precious hours out of his day, and THEN assign an additional hour's worth of homework to suck up even more of his time because they failed to make proper use of the seven they already had... well, then, that doesn't really give me a fair balance of time to even ATTEMPT to reverse the negative effects accrued during any given school day, now does it?

6. I don't want someone else to tell him WHAT to think, or WHEN to think, I want to teach him HOW to think. More on that here.

7. I don't want Kortland to be bribed or pressured to learn, I want him to develop a love affair with learning. One that will put all kinds of knowledge at his finger tips. One that will prepare him to lead, not follow. To think for himself rather than to conform.

There are SO MANY other thoughts I have and want to share, but they will have to wait for another day. Let me just say this: I am loving this very sudden journey that Kortland and I have found ourselves taking together. I am learning so much so quickly about HOW children grow and develop, and I am so excited about the future.

I love that my child will be developing a love of learning in a peaceful environment.
I love that he now has a teacher who loves him more than anyone else on the planet is even capable of doing.
I love that my sons will actually be able to bond and form a deeper relationship.
I love that Kortland won't waste time comparing himself to others and trying to fit in. Rather, his time, energy, and focus, can be devoted entirely to learning, stretching, and growing ever more passionate about all of the wonders in our world and the universe that envelopes it.

Life definitely threw me a curve ball last week. But man am I thankful when things don't go as planned. That's when we get the opportunity to grow, learn, and see things from a different view. And I have to say: the view from here is glorious.

I'm sure there will be days when I want to tear my hair out.
I'm sure you'll hear about them. {oi!}
I'm sure some people will judge me...and that's okay. {Seriously.}

But I'm also sure that this is the right thing for us.
Soooooo right.
Righter than right. {And no, that phrase will not be making it's way into the grammar portion of our day.}

Dear Tennyson,

How does it feel to be King of the Dogs?
{And pretty much the whole house, for that matter?}

Just wondering.

Xo,
The rest of the people who live here.

Dear Life,

2011-10-06T17:11:00.000-07:00

I pretty much hate you today.

I hate the incessant snow/sleet/hail/drizzle that soaked me as I ran screaming out of Walmart.

I hate that I still live in Utah County where I know full-well that the weather is downright POOPY 10 months out of the year. I hate that I am stupid enough to have gotten myself stuck here.

I hate that I had to wipe down thirty bags of groceries as I put them away.

I hate that there are soggy cereal boxes in the pantry and that my hair looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket.

I hate that my 3rd grader got a note sent home from his teacher saying that he was hell on wheels today.

I hate that last month, after several behavioral problems were reported, I told my 3rd grader that if he got ONE MORE EVER-LOVIN' note sent home because of bad behavior, I was going to pull him the heck out of school and home school him.

I hate that I now have to home school my kid... but do you know what I hate worse? Walking around on eggshells every day hoping and praying that my dang kid will behave like a decent human being in class. Yep, I hate that even more than I hate the thought of trying to get him to sit still for 2 freaking seconds at a time and learn something in our house...all by myself.

I hate that there is a leak in the roof.

I hate that there is also a leak on the gas pedal in our new van.

I hate that President Obama held YET ANOTHER stupid news conference and interrupted Good Things Utah. {Even though I can say with a reasonable level of certainty that I also hate Good Things Utah}.

I hate that I even have to call him PRESIDENT Obama. How embarrassing for us...for ALL of us...even those who didn't vote for him. {Ahem, ME!}

I hate that this post sounds frighteningly similar to my crazy 14-year-old journal entries and that I haven't changed quite as much as I'd like to think I have over the past 17 years.

I hate that I had to use a calculator to subtract 14 from 31 to know that it has been 17 years since I was 14 because I can't do weird, odd-number-ish math in my head.

I also hate that it has been 17 years since I was 14, and that sort of means that I am getting old.

I hate this blog post,

and I even hate kittens and rainbows.

Especially rainbows.

Forget you, Life.

~~Xo,~~
Lola

Dear Journal {circa June 30th 1995}

2011-09-27T09:02:00.000-07:00

{Yeah, you heard me, TELL ALL TUESDAY IS BACK YO!!!!}

Well, I am to the point where I hate my family and dread the idea of ever going home! My mom thinks she can just make me do whatever she wants me to! I want to move out so bad! I wish that I could! I think that I'll set up a tent in my backyard and live there for the rest of the summer! I know it sounds immature, but at least I'd be away from the wicked witch for awhile! I seriously need to start writing my friends letters. They always write to me, and I always for get to write them back! I'm starting to figure out why I'm so mad at my mom! She's keeping me and Chanie apart with all of her stupid rules! Now, the connection with me and Chantel is unbreakable. If she got killed, I would either: 1) go insane and never go anywhere or talk again, or 2) I'd commit suicide.

{heart}

Laura

Dear Mom,

Hey, remember that one time when I was 14, and I said and really did mean things, and I was self absorbed, and catty, and also used WAY too many exclamation points? And remember when I would yell at you, and only see things from my point of view, and felt really sorry for myself even though you paid hundreds of dollars for me to do cheer, fed me three square meals a day, gave me my own {really pretty} bedroom with it's own vanity and sink in it, drove me anywhere I needed to go, and gave me spending money every weekend - even when I forgot/refused to clean the bathroom and pick up after myself?

Remember that?
Yeah, that was less than ideal.

Thanks for not selling me to the gypsies, or, I don't know, smothering me with a pillow in my sleep.{Cause honestly, you would have been justified.}

Way to keep your cool, woman.

Xo,
Your daughter.

Dear Chanie,

You know how it got really weird there at the end of that entry?
Yeah.
Um.
Sorry about that.
Um, so, yeah.

Hm.

Xo,
Lola

Dear 14 Year Old Lola,

You should be nicer to your mom.
Oh, and you should DEFINITELY think about using more exclamation points in your writing.
{It will come in handy later when you write really dramatic blog posts!!!!!!!}

Xo,
31 Year Old Lola

Dear Lola,

2011-09-26T14:53:00.000-07:00

You know how you started "over-doing" it in August, and you were sleeping, like, 5 hours a night, and running around like a chicken with it's head cut off like, 19 hours a day, and eating junky food sporadically, or not eating anything at all, and you know how this behavior ran down our immune system and allowed for a pesky little leftover chunk of the chicken pox virus that we got 20 years ago {which then set up shop in a branch of our nervous system at the base of our spine} to flourish, and grow, and turn itself into a full-blown bout of "shingles"?

Remember that?

Yeah well, that was no fun. But we got through it.

But then, you know how you didn't change anything about the the way we were living, and how you kept on burning the candle at both ends, and then how you decided to just chuck the proverbial candle into the proverbial fire and burn it down to nothing, assuming that our immune system would just let us abuse it mercilessly and that there wouldn't be any consequences?

Yeah, well. That was stupid of you.
And frankly, I'm sick of it.
And in the famed words of the 80s mega band Twisted Sister, we're not gonna take...anymore.
{Word.}

So get your crap together, lest we become a shingles-ridden leper for the rest of our known existences.

~~Xo,~~
Your Body

Dear Pharmacy Tech Girl Who Filled My Prescription,

You know how, the other day, I came in there to pick up a prescription, and

I was like: "Hi, I'm here to pick up a prescription for Laura Dugovic."
And you were like: "Okay,"
And then you went back to grab it and then you brought it out,
And then you were like: "For the Valtrex?"
And I was like : "Yeah."

{But then in my head I was like, Valtrex? Where have I heard that name before? Sounds sketchy... Hm.Oh wait, is that...wait, no, it can't be...NO! The HERPES pill? The pill for fracking Genital Herpes!?! The one with the commercial filled with happy people going about life and having a ball canoeing and such because their genital herpes was all sorts of contained and under control thanks to Valtrex... THAT Valtrex!?!}

{And then in my head I thought: Oh no. Shingles IS a form of Herpes. Not GENITAL herpes, but herpes none-the-less. It's called Herpes Zosta.So I guess if Valtrex treats all kinds of Herpes, it also treats Herpes Zosta. Hm.}

Mind you, this all went through my head in roughly 2.3 seconds.

Cause brains think really fast.

So you know how then I got all weird on you and was like,

"Yeah, I was just at the doctors and he said I got SHINGLES from having too much STRESS. I guess I really need to slow down!"

And you know how I said this at the volume of someone standing underneath the choppers of a helicopter that is taking off? {Ak--ward!}

Yeah, well, that was just to make sure that everyone in our little neighborhood pharmacy who heard "Valtrex" would know that I didn't have genital herpes. "Not that there's anything wrong with that." {In the famed words of Jerry Seinfeld }

Um, so, sorry if that got a little weird there at the end.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Self,

The next time you get shingles {and Ohhhhh, there BETTER NOT BE A STINKING NEXT TIME!!!} Please do yourself a favor and fill your prescription at the drive thru window at Walgreens while wearing the biggest pair of sunglasses you own... and driving a borrowed vehicle...just for good measure... and NOT at your favorite local drugstore where you and your family go out for FHE ice cream and in the famed words of the long-running, hit television show "Cheers," everybody knows your n-a-a-a-a-me.

Thanks.

Xo,
Lola

So, today I am in bed trying to sleep off some shingles... what are YOU doing today? The girls at cg wanna know, so link up and share your slice of the world!

Dear Wendy @ Sweaty Chix Fitness,

2011-09-19T21:27:00.000-07:00

Thanks for being such a fa-lippin' fun toning/Zumba instructor!

I love how you make me do roughly 30 reps MORE than I would ever do if working out on my own.
I love how you come make a human bridge under my leg lifts and push me to work harder and harder.
I love how everyone who comes to your class is kind, and fun, and I love how they feel like old friends... even though I've never met them before.
I love how I can sing the work-out songs at the top of my lungs and NOT feel like a complete idiot.
{And NOT feel totally alone either...cause you're singing two or three volumes louder ;}
I love how your ipod was stuck on repeat today. And I love that you are no better at navigating an ipod than I am, but how you make it work anyway.

But most of all, I love how I HATE Zumba {like, with a passion} but that I LOVE Zumba when I come to your class. Your Zumba class makes me FEEL like a Smokin' Hot Latina Mama even though I LOOK like a gangly, white epileptic having a prolonged seizure to the musical stylings of Shakira and J.Lo.

That's no small feat.

Xo,
Lola

The Campfire Letters.

2011-09-19T21:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Tennyson,

It was your first time going up the canyon and having a campfire party for Family Night. Woo-hoo!
{Okay, you were decidedly underwhelmed... but that's not exactly new. Love that signature sober face...}You got bored and testy, so we put you in the van and turned on Nemo....then you were happy as a clam.

It's official.
You may look like your mother, but you are your father's son all the way.

Xo,
Your Mom.

Dear Kortland,

Are you SERIOUSLY gonna eat two hot dogs and a s'more with those hands?
{Answer: Yep.}

Xo,
Your Mom

Dear Campfire,

Why you gotta be such a turd?
So we forgot the lighter fluid. Big Whoop.
It's like you get off on being withholding or something.

~~Xo,~~
Lola

Dear Graham Crackers and Nutella,

Thank you.
No, really, thanks.

Whenever I feel like eating my feelings, it's nice to know I have a few little somethings as lovely as you to turn to. You are a match made in calorie-rich heaven.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Fuzzy Caterpillars,

How cute are you guys?
I mean, honestly?
Crawlin' around on the hot dog roasters like you own the place...
{Cause, well, technically... you DO.}

Word,
Lola

Dear Hubs,

You know how you totally hate any and all things that have to do with camping? And you know how you get all sorts of annoyed just THINKING about all of the baths that will have to take place, and the laundry to be done, and the leftover camp-y smelliness that will likely linger in our new mini van for a week or two...

And you know how we didn't bring fire starter with us today, so you had to get the fire going old-school-style, and once you finally had a roaring fire, you got all antsy and started trying to put it out before it "really got going" {because you desperately wanted to get it over with, get home, and get into a hot shower?}even though we were just trying to relax and roast us up some delicious jumbo-sized marshmallows so that we could smother them in nutella and then mush them in the middle of two graham crackers and stuff them in our faces, and then repeat that process 5 to 6-ish times?

And remember how when we met, I told you that I was a prissy city-loving girl, and that I preferred candle light dinners and a sappy opera to camping or hiking or outdoorsy stuff of any kind? And remember how you LOVED that about me, because you really hate all that crap too? And then, remember how a few years ago, I suddenly decided that I really, really love doing "all that crap"?

Yeah, um sorry about that.
In all fairness, YOU told me that you didn't like football. {ha!}

So I guess we're even.

Xo,
The Wifey
{P.s. Thanks for taking one for the team today. We had a great time.}

Today we are livin' it up, mountain man style. What are YOU doing today? The girls at communal global want to know, so link up and share!

Dear Fall,

2011-09-12T20:48:00.000-07:00

I didn't think I would be ready for you just yet.

You know, due to the fact that it SNOWED well into the end of June this year...

But man, I am loving me some new school clothes, and freshly sharpened pencils, and a return to structure, and hot breakfast, and kids running down our sidewalks with way-too-big backpacks bobbing in their wake...

I am loving the crisp air, and the return of light sweaters and flowy blowy cardigans.

And as much as I loath football, I certainly don't mind all of the college football parties that come complete with hot dogs, seven layer dips, root beer, and conversations with lovely people.

And I'm loving the ripe gardens and the bounty of fresh, colorful veggies they produce.

I even bought a small stack of 20 cent spiral notebooks the other day... just because they were calling to me. {Seriously. They wanted to come live in my house and have very important lists and room-design sketches written in them all the live-long day. They were practically begging me to take them home. How could I resist, honestly?}

Today I am sniffing sharpened pencils {yeah, you heard me}, cooking a pancake breakfast, and enjoying the loveliness that IS September.

What are YOU doing today?

The girls at communal global want to know!
So link up so we can see your slice of the world.

Dear Mom,

2011-09-12T14:01:00.000-07:00

Thank you so much for the hand-me-down Vera Wang jammies. Now, as you already know, fancy jammies are NOT in my budget, but free ones from the most fantastical glammy-jammy-mami on the planet?

I'll take em.

They make lounging around reading "The Picture of Dorian Gray," and vacuuming a dog hair-y carpet, and loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, and wiping boogs from a teething one-year-old's upper lip INFINITELY more glamorous. So thanks.

Xo,
{Your daughter.}
{P.s. And thanks for Tennyson's awesome jammies too. You are the queen of lounge wear...and my favorite supplier.}

Dear Self,

It's prolly time for a ghetto-home-made-glitter-toes-redo. You know, since these ones are left over from July. Just a suggestion. {I think Bubbuh agrees}

Xo,
{You.}

Dear Tennyson's Mullet,

You are 98% "Awesome."
And 2% "Meh..."

Unfortunately, sometimes such percentages are disregarded, and haircuts are scheduled in spite of the inherent awesomeness of the hair in question. {This is particularly unavoidable when the infant in question starts looking like the offspring of Donald J. Trump, rather than his gorgeous and beloved ACTUAL father. This resemblance is disturbing as well as uncanny, and prolly needs to be stopped at all costs.}

So, while I haven't decided one way or the other for sure, I just wanted to give you fair warning.
Prepare for the worst.

Xo,
{The mother of the child from whom you sprout.}

Dear Tennyson,

I'm so sorry that you got my hair. I was worried one of my little nuggets would get stuck with it. So, later in life, when you get an extra Twinkie in your lunch box, or I let you go play on Saturday without finishing your chores to satisfaction, or I let you go do something fun that Kort complains I never let him go do when he was your age... just point at your fuzzy little duck head, and tell him tough beans. Kay?

Cause I've got to make it up to you somehow.

Did you know that complete strangers walk up to you in the most random of places and rub your head? It's like a moth to a flame, or vanilla creme wafers to,um, my mouth. People just can't resist those fluffy, stand-on-end piles of delicious duck down. And frankly, neither can I.

Xo,
Your Mom.

Dear Friends,

Thanks for dropping in on our Monday morning,
How was yours?

Dear Journal,

2011-09-09T10:20:00.000-07:00

{September 8th, 2011}

I don't think there is anything as wonderful as an ordinary day. August's party after party after party lifestyle completely did me in. Today, I reveled in the simple things:

A chaotic breakfast with the kids {where I, admittedly, woke up on the wrong side of the bed and thus was snappish and mild to moderately - okay totally- unpleasant for 15 minutes or so... and Tennyson outdid my grumpiness, like, times a million...lil' turd nugget.} I made zucchini and mushroom omelets and wheat toast. {And, in case anyone was wondering, none of it was organic, and I bought most of my food stuffs at Walmart. Yep. I'm "that" mommy blogger, and I'm not even sorry.}

Pulling school bags together, making a school lunch for a high schooler, {Did you know that I am temporarily housing a high schooler?*} squawking at Kort to get. in. here. and. get. his. gosh. darn. hair. combed. not. in. five. minutes. but. now. now. now!

Scriptures, prayers, read a few inspirational poems from Grandpa Headlee's "Be What YOU Want to Be" book. Hugs, kisses, send 3rd grader off to school.

Pile into the new mini van {and yes, I am still on cloud nine about my new mini van, and yes, I have rather enjoyed the absence of all those crusty looks I was getting from concerned parents everywhere whenever I drove too slowly through their neighborhood streets in my pedi-van. } with Tentens and Jojo, and listen to Jojo talk about how:

"She's always wanted to name her son Boston and it has been, like, her favorite baby boy name for forever and ever, but recently she started liking a different name even better, so it was totally fine with her when her bestie called her up the other day and asked Jojo if she would be mad if she totally stole "Boston" and used it for her adorable new little 6-week-old weenie dog puppy and of course she was fine with that because she is so over Boston so...no biggie..."

Do you remember when you dreamed up names for your future children? Did you just dream up names or did you get all crazy and act like you were going to even call shots like having EXACTLY four kids and they were going to be birthed in the order of boy, girl, boy, girl and spaced precisely three years apart? {I'll give you one guess as to whether or not I did.}

I, personally, felt that I had beautiful names picked out:

For a girl? Crystal.
A boy? Tyrone.

Yep.

As you can imagine, I thank heaven every. single.day. that I didn't have babies at 12 or 13 or 15.
{And my babies would be wise to do the same.}

Tens stayed in his jams all day, puttered about the house, and let his diapered butt show my polka dot pillow who was boss {20 times over} while I delved into the book:

"Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World."

{Which, thus far has been a mixture of fantastic, and completely stupid. Go figure.}

It's a wee bit rife with liberal feminism, and while I am all about equal pay and opportunities and overall treatment of women, I am SO TIRED of being told that stay-at-home motherhood is degrading. Frankly, it's glorious. It's also the epitome of what the fruits of feminism are {or at least should be} about. Just as I should have the right as a woman to go out into the world and become some ball-busting, law-changing, highfalutin' attorney, I should also have the right to LOVE motherhood and all that it entails. And I should have the right to do so without any hint of shame or apology for purportedly setting back the women's movement some 30-odd-years via my love of all things domestic.

On the other hand, I find Ms. Bloom's assertion that women need to stop mutilating their bodies and risking their very lives in pursuit of unattainable standards of physical beauty set forth by the corrupt and misogynistic visual media to be spot on. Due to this, I will keep reading, {I'm sure she really cares...} but I am setting my liberal feminist filter to a ten as I do so.

I helped a neighbor pick out outfits for her family pictures, ate a bread-stick-lunch-snack-thing with her, and chatted and laughed, a lot. {Cause she is very, very funny.}

The hubs grilled hamburgers and I toasted burger buns with butter and garlic salt, and we smothered those suckers in pickles and guacamole. Kyle's dad joined us for dinner, and I couldn't help but smile at my full table. A little over a year ago, It was just the three of us. Now our table is pushing capacity with a baby, a teenager, an 8 year old, a loving grandfather, and two beaming 30 somethings who are still so in love after 10 years of marriage that it's bordering on ridiculous.

We cleaned up dinner, got kids into the bath and into their beds, then Jojo and I set to work glamming up a cork board that she wants to make into a vision board for a project at school. Then I tidied up, showered, climbed into bed, and tickled the hubs' outstretched arm with one hand as I read the book I was holding with the other. I just love all of the small daily moments that weave threads into the gorgeous and satisfying tapestry of a simple life. And I'm so glad that life is getting back to something a little more NORMAL!

*My niece Jordan is currently staying with us whilst her mother is receiving intensive treatments for her bone cancer at the "Cancer Treatment Centers of America's" Chicago facility. She has been with us for three weeks and will be with us for about four more, and OH how we love her... I'm seriously contemplating sending God a letter recommending that he change his policies just a wee little bit and start allowing moms to start out with a 15 year old daughter {but only ones that are as sweet and helpful as Jojo}and then add some babies to the mix after. Cause lemme tell ya. It is WAY better that way, y'all.

Dear Bubbuh,

2011-08-22T23:33:00.000-07:00

I'm Sorry.

I didn't want to do it, but you keep on licking your owee.

I don't know if it's residual trauma from all of those flipping fourth and twenty-fourth fireworks...or if it's stress from all of these random thunderstorms...but you have got. to. stop. licking. your. owee!!!!

Oh no. No, no, no.  Don't you give me that face,Mr. 

You have only yourself to blame.

Xoxo,

Mom

{P.s. Sorry about the eye goobers. How embarrassing.}

Dear Cast of The Jersey Shore,

2011-08-17T10:12:00.000-07:00

Ouch.

When a company as dirty/scandalous/ill-repute-ish as Abercrombie and Fitch offers to pay you to please stop wearing their brand...

You know it's bad.

Good luck with that.

XO,
Lola

Dear Tennyson,

2011-08-15T09:51:00.000-07:00

Hey you...

Happy Birthday!

Thanks for coming to our family.

We love how you point at nearly everything imaginable and say "Ook! Ook!"

You are a chubby barrel of goodness and joy.

We love the way your eyes squeeze shut when you smile your biggest smile.

We love the way you wrinkle your nose.

We love that you wave bye-bye.

We love watching you jam out to Justin Bieber and the likes thereof.

We love the way you scootch around the house on your bum like a baby Tarzan. 

We love that you have started trying to do headstands and somersaults like your big brother.
 

We love that you love sharing your cupcake with Gaga. 

We love walking into your room to find you talking to your books as you flip through their pages.

We love that you go to bed by yourself AND take huge daily naps, AND that you started sleeping through the night at 9 months. {Way to one-up your big brother!! We love THAT kind of sibling rivalry.} Keep up the good work!

We love how much you loved your ONE birthday present {Thanks Uncle Bryan and Aunt Cristi}. One year olds are awesomely simple. 

We just love you.

{Period.} 

Happy Birthday, big boy.

I'm Back. {Maybe.. I mean, I hope I am, but honestly, who knows?}

2011-08-07T22:06:00.000-07:00

This picture has nothing to do with anything that I am about to say, but it makes me so happy that I sort of want to bawl every time I see it. Ah, brotherly love, chubby-yummy-nakey-baby love, AND a really pretty bowl sink that I got for an AMAZING deal at Home Depot all rolled into one shot. Does it get any better than that? Methinks that it does not.

Moving on.

Where on earth, {you may ask}have I been for the past two weeks?
{Okay for the record, I don't actually think anyone is technically asking that, BUT I'm going to tell you anyway.}

I have been keeping myself very busy finding all sorts of happy crap, buying it for pennies on the dollar, spray painting it into oblivion, and hanging it in my house. Weeeee!

Yep.
Awesomeness.
I will be posting my new home improvement {and/or merely aesthetic decor projects} over at Housewife on Fire all week this week. So come by and say hi, yes?

Dear Friends,

2011-07-23T22:51:00.000-07:00

A few things I'd like to discuss:

1. Sorry about the whole "having my email get hacked whilst I was away on vacation and letting some random turd overseas send all of y'all ridiculous links and emails" thing that went down this past week. Not cool. My sincerest apologies. {But I do hope that some of you are enjoying some super-great deals on botox/viagra thanks to me...

In the event that you are, you're welcome.}

2. I love the ocean. Don't you just love the ocean? If I didn't suspect it would eat me and my unsuspecting {not to mention utterly delicious} young some great and terrible day in the not too distant future, I think I might like to set up shop there for good!

3. I may or may not have a "sea rock"-hoarding issue. The jury's still out on that one.

4. California thrift stores used to be awesome. The ones in San Juan Capistrano thought that I should pay $9 to$10 buck-a-roonies for a faded blouse from Walmart. Keep California dreaming, you crazy California thrift stores.

5. The sneaking suspicions that my mother-in-law has prolly always had about her son being married to a "lesser woman than she" were likely confirmed during one of the following periods of our joint vacay:

ONE: When she got an a.m. phone call {a la' moi} outlining the day's travel itinerary, and then climbed into the van to find organized see-through boxes of treats {separated into "sweet" and "salty" sections, of course}stowed neatly under the console.

TWO: When I told Kort that if he didn't shut his mouth I would burn all of his toys, rip the DVD player out of the van's roof and throw it out the window, cancel his whale watching tour, lock him in our hotel room, send him to bed without any dinner, and/or leave him at the gas station with some nice {okay, or even REALLY mean}strangers who'd always wanted a fa-lipping crazy seven year old to keep in their cold, wet basement. {Admittedly not my best "Love and Logic" moments..}

THREE: When I made her let me give her a pedicure and glitter toes...and she then proceeded to tell me that they would have been perfect for her...30 years ago...and if she was employed as a "pole-dancer." Yep. That's right. My mother-in-law thinks that I have prostitute-ish toes.{But now she has them too, so ha!}

FOUR: When I got all sorts of slammy at Arby's. In my defense, the Arby's people got our order totally mixed up {over and over again}. Plus, Tennyson was whining, Kort dumped a drink all over the table, my niece dumped two boxes of fries into our laps, and Kort was jabbering non-stop and refusing to eat his chicken nuggets. She may or may not have given me a free pass on that one though. It was nuts for everyone involved.

6. Okay REALLY, we have a great relationship. I love her guts and had SO MUCH FUN with her. She loves me. I can tell. {Then again, who DOESN'T love a crazy mess that makes them look awesome by comparison?} So, shout out to the MIL. You are the best. Thanks for the memories ;)

7. I've missed you, friends. What's new with you? Are your faces firm, utterly paralyzed, and wrinkle free? Is that little purple pill working wonders for you in the bedroom? Have my spam emails opened doorways to achieving a wonderful new level of existence for anyone and everyone in my address book?

Do tell.

Wait... on second thought... maybe don't ;)

xo,

Lola

Dear Infertility,

2011-07-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

I gotta hand it to ya, those five years were rough.
Just awful.
You did one heckuva number on me.
I cried a lot.
I slipped into an abyss of self loathing.
I felt really {and impressively}sorry for myself.
I was sufficiently miserable...

But do you wanna know what I've discovered?
That seven year gap ='s brothers who ACTUALLY like each other!

So, I know I said I hated your guts...
And that I wished you'd die a slow and painful death all alone in a dank and stinky cave somewhere...
But I think I {sort of} forgive you...

...well, at least a little.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Gwyneth Paltrow,

2011-07-09T10:59:00.000-07:00

My Father's Daughter by Gwyneth Paltrow

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Ooooooh I loved your book.

{Yes, I read cook books, and THIS LIL BEAUTY is a perfect example as to why!}

Your book is:

1. Charming. I loved immersing myself in it and feeling the feelings of familial love and nurturing.

2. Beautifully shot. You are kind of ridiculously lovely, and your kids are too cute. Plus, the food looks gorge. It made me want to serve a summer meal in my garden...like, immediately.

3. Inspiring. I feel ready to take on the home-making world again. You reminded me of how fulfilling it is to create beautiful, nutritious meals for the people I love.

4. Unpretentious. Being that you happen to be one of those "I'm super-rich and can afford to eat macrobiotic EVERYTHING plucked straight from a pesticide-free, all-organic, farmer's market that I have specially erected on my driveway twice-weekly for my starlet-y convenience, and I catch wild Salmon from a stream in my back yard and cook it within 30 minutes of catching it because I'm a big fat {okay, skinny} foodie snob snob snobbity snob." folks. {Okay, that may - or may not- be a slight exaggeration on my part.}

Frankly, I thought that your book would be annoying and feel unachievable with my current budget/lifestyle. But you are actually really cool about it. I can make most of your recipes with items from my local {non-macrobiotic/uppity} grocery store and/or with a few substitutions. You were actually {gasp!} likable in this book. {Way to go!}

5. Pretty. And I just reeeeally like things that are pretty. {So I'm a wee bit shallow, sue me.}

View all my reviews

Dear Hubs,

2011-07-08T21:19:00.000-07:00

I sort of love your guts.

You can be the high-as-a-kite-nuttier-than-a-squirrel-turd-double-rainbow-loving-hippie to my neurotic-messy-semi-boring-house-wifey-on-fire any day.

any. day.

Xo,
Me

Dear Friends,

2011-07-06T10:11:00.000-07:00

Did you know that all of my new t.v. segments are over here?

Well, they totally are. I haven't been regularly posting about when I am going to be on the show, because, let's be honest, that would just be annoying.

"Hey, have you looked at ME lately?"
"You could watch a show with ME on it once every two weeks if you'd like to."

Yeah, not cool.
But some of you have gotten after me for NOT keeping you in the loop...

So there. There it is.
Enjoy :) {or not, there won't be a quiz next time you see me...promise.}

Xo,
Lola

Dear McDonald's McCafe

2011-07-05T21:14:00.000-07:00

Golly you're pretty.
And I'm not just saying that either.
You are pri-i-i-i-t-eeeeeee!
Just gorge.

Your modern, faux tile walls,
and funky contemporary pendant lighting
make me want to order a latte',
{even though I don't drink them...}
bust out a pretentious book,
curl up in a booth,
and pretend that I'm an intellectual, New-Yorkish-type-cool-person
rather than a mother of two in rural Springville
sitting a mere booger's throw from a plastic children's play-land.

When I first heard that y'all were doing a full-on make-over,
I'll be honest,
I had my doubts.

But man,
when I find myself surrounded by the luxury of your all-new,
cheeky-chic-y-super-gorge surroundings,
I almost want to eat one of your cheeseburgers.

{almost.}

Good job, you.

xo,

Lola

P.s. In case my words aren't accurately summing up the INTENSE love I have for your fab new interiors, simply replace the words "a double rainbow" with "a McCafe Remodel" during the following video.

{Pretty much EXACTLY my reaction when I first beheld you in all your newly remodeled glory.}

Dear Dippin' Dots Ice Cream People,

2011-06-30T00:01:00.000-07:00

FIVE dollars for a teeeeensytinsylil'bittycup of ice cream?
And SEVEN for a {quote/unquote}"MEDIUM"?
Really?

Hmmmm, let me see here,

send my kid to college...
or buy him a dippin dots ice cream at Seven Peaks?

Decisions, decisions...

Have you no soul?

~~Xo,~~
Lola

Dear Friends,

2011-06-29T20:33:00.000-07:00

YES!
Okay, yes!

Yes,I am ashamed that I, 1}watch, and 2} am all worked up about "The Bachelorette."

OF COURSE I am ashamed.

But, I can't stop.

There are worse addictions out there, my friends.
I'm pickin' my poison, and this dangdarn poison suits me just fine.
Don't you juuuudge me!

Xo,
Lola

Dear Producers of ABC's Hit Television Show "The Bachelorette",

2011-06-29T20:28:00.000-07:00

I have a bone, 

{make that 7 bones}

to pick with you.

1. Can you please stop digging up every promiscuous home-wrecker and/or full-on-sociopath that the great state of Utah has hiding in its skeazy underground clubs/bars and what not, and then placing them front and center under the bright national spotlight of the reality television phenomenon that IS the Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise? {Yes, that was one sentence. You can diagram it for accuracy if you don't believe me.} Please? {Also a sentence, technically.}

I mean, really guys.

I'd almost rather hail from a state known for producing Sarah Palin, or, I dunno, Jeffrey Dahmer, or Lady Gaga, or ANYTHING at this point. Where do you FIND these people?! And can you please stop finding them in Utah? This is just embarassing.

2. I have a REALLY great addition to what is clearly already a very rigorous audition/screening process for guys interested in dating the next Bachelorette.You could have them fill out a questionnaire that asks the following questions.

1}Are you glib and superficial?
2} Do you get really tickled with yourself when you tell lots of people blatant lies and they believe you?
3}Did you kill and mutilate animals as a child?
4} Do you like making insecure girls believe that you care about them, and then laughing at them and calling them ugly behind their backs?
5}Do you at least have one ex-wife and at least one offspring whose names you can also drag down the broken road of hideous egos and t.v. shame with you?
6} Are you ugly, with bad taste in clothing but quite certain that you are God's gift to the world?
7} Do you have a cheesy local business that you want to get free advertising for?
8} Do you hope that your experience on "The Bachelorette" will somehow catapult you into television, stand up, modeling, and movie roles? {Because, yeah, this OBVIOUSLY works 99% of the time. You know, it worked for...what's-his-name, and such and such...and...um, yeah, I can't actually think of a single person for whom that has worked at the moment... but it's bound to come to me sooner or later...surely there's at least one...}
9} When you're too stupid to come up with a good response to a question, are you at least smart enough to sit quietly with a smug smirk on your face and act like you're too intelligent/coy to answer said question?
10}Do you think that you are good enough to land a girl like Emily Maynard? {If he answers yes to this one, not only will that make for really great laughs in the production meeting, it will also give you crucial insight into the fact that, well, he is bat-poo crazy and clearly delusional.}

So you know, give those a lil' try at your next round up. If they answer "Yes" to most of those questions, you will have a precise formula for finding yourselves a skeazy "Bentley-esque" stand in for EVERY season of "The Bachelorette"! Think of the ratings...{Ha! Like I need to tell YOU that!} Oh the possibilities.

**If you want even more questions to aid you on your quest to infuse at least 1-2 sociopaths into every Bachelorette taping, see here.

3. Did you know that my computer's spell checker doesn't even acknowledge the word "bachelorette" as a real word? Hm. Moving on.

4. Can anyone tell me why in the "Jake Pavelka" season of the Bachelor, that hot girl "Rozlyn" got kicked off the show for hooking up with a producer because "They didn't want the integrity of the show compromised by allowing someone who was not interested in making a romantic connection with Jake to remain on the show..." when that was EXACTLY the case with Bentley? He had NO INTEREST in her. He said so himself. So why was he allowed to mosey that ugly mug around the bachelor pad and spit hurtful words into the diary cam's face in a never-ending stream of jerk-vomit for weeks on end? Seems a bit inconsistent to me... which leads me to:

5. Since when does your show endorse flying sociopaths to Hong Kong and putting them up in sweet skyscraper hotel rooms in order to have a 10 minute, bum-holish conversation with one messed-up-lil'-kitten? Seriously? HE gets a big fatty ticket to HK? Him!? Come on! I'm a poor little housewife whose greatest international travel adventure thus far has landed her in the pee-soaked streets of Tijuana. Send ME to Hong Kong! Sure, I'm not a sociopath with bad hair, bad flannels, and bad intentions, but I'd try to keep it interesting. Send me! Send me!

6. I think that an in-depth reading of "He's Just Not that Into You" should be required reading for your future bachelorettes. And hey, while I'm wish-listing here, I also think that future bachelorettes should have:

a. Self-esteem. Even just a liiiittle bit. Just some semblance of self esteem. A sliver really, just SOME.
b. Good fake eye-lashes that don't just go down the center of her eyelid.
c. The ability to properly pronounce the word "perfect."
d. The ability to carry on a halfway decent conversation.
e. Did I mention self -esteem? I did? Oh yeah. Well, it's sort of important.

7. I have way more bones to pick with you, but we'll have to save them for another day. I am TIRED. {And I get all sorts of stabby when I'm tired.}

Xo,
Lola

Dear Reservoir Passersby,

2011-06-24T21:56:00.000-07:00

What're you lookin' at?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Move along...

~~Xo,~~
Tennyson

Dear Calvin Klein bathing suit,

2011-06-23T15:11:00.000-07:00

{This is the exact style of my suit, only mine is black. ...and I am 30 to1,235 shades paler/whiter than model shown... and my hair doesn't look like that, well, um, ever, and especially not when I'm swimming...you know, for the record.}

You are fired.
There.
I said it.

I love your square neckline and girdle-like fit.
I love that you are black and classy.
I love that you are a designer brand but that I got you on sale for a really smokin' deal.

All of this love blinds me to your greater faults, but, really those faults are just inexcuseable.
You have wedgied me for the last time.

You'll never work in this town again!

{sorry.}

~~Xo,~~
Lola

Dear Seven Peaks Water Park,

2011-06-23T14:50:00.000-07:00

So, I'm just gonna come right out and say it. Y'all prolly got a ~~little~~ lot bit, very, very, extremely greedy/carried away this past year and sold way too many "Pass of All Passes." I mean, whoa! Y'all are overloaded {times, like, 50} and I'm left wondering 1}How much it took to bribe the fire marshal, and 2} how does one come to be in the position of fire marshal? {You know, I am sort of hoping to be in the market for a new car, and I think with all the bribes I'd be accepting, that could easily come to pass.}

That being said, I surprisingly had a LOT of fun while visiting there yesterday.

Last season, I only went one time, and once was enough what with your scary-military-esque bag checkers, and pass scanners, and towel searchers. I felt like Miss U.S.A. trying to get through a TSA security check or like a smuggler crossing the border into Nazi-Germany rather than a stay at home mom trying to enjoy a day of overcrowded water park fun. I mean, feeling like a violated Miss U.S.A was kind of glamorous at first, but when I started getting "flashes of ~~Quincy~~ Nazi-Germany," it was a bit much.

Not so this year! Even though there are 3 times as many people, the lines weren't bad, and the bag checkers were friendly. Nice work, Seven Peaks Water Park.

Very nice work indeed.

Now if you could turn your attention to the problem of keeping toddlers from leaving presents in your wave pool, that would just be peaches. {I shall be utterly impressed if you devise a solution to that one.}

Xo,
Lola

Dear St. George,

2011-06-06T20:58:00.000-07:00

I sort of love you.

I love your red rocks...

and your little cupcake shops...

and let's definitely not forget this place...
That "Hikers Benedict" deserves a love letter all its own...

We love to visit your temple...

and we love to look upon your sun-bathing lizards...

You're just the best,
St. Georgie dear...

Thanks for being you.

xo,
Lola

Dear Dillon 

and Kaylie,

Man you little stinks are cute.
Keep up the good work.

xo,
Lola

Dear Tennyson's Nose,

Stop torturing my kid, mmmkay?
I've had it.
If you weren't attached to my sweet baby's face,
I would kick you in the...
face...
you know,
um,
that is, if you HAD a face,
of course...

So knock it off.
Seriously.
If the rivers of snot don't dry up like the
Nile of biblical-olden-famine-ish times,
and SOON,
I'm taking a hospital issue bulb syringe to your sorry A.
And that's a promise.

Check yo-self before you wreck yo-self.

xo,
Lola

Dear crazy jack-o-lantern 

face in the cliff wall,

Thanks for the sweet photo op.

xo,
Lola

Word to your mother.

Dear Tennyson,

2011-05-28T21:46:00.000-07:00

You are edible.
I want to bite your
delicious little cheekies
till the cows come home.

{But I won't.}

Love,
Your Mom

Dear Tennyson,

2011-05-26T22:00:00.000-07:00

You are my shunshine

my only shunshine

you make me happy

when skies are gray

you'll never know dear

how much i love you

please don't take

my shunshine

away...

Dear Kortland,

2011-05-26T16:10:00.000-07:00

Washing your hands a second time because you didn't get the muddyish, crusty junk up out of your fingernails the first time does NOT constitute "wasting water."

Nice try though.

Xo,
Your Mom

Dear Self, {and a love letter to Karma}

2011-05-24T22:12:00.000-07:00

Ahem.

Eating multiple fistfuls of the fishes {causetheirsodelicious}
and then chasing said cheese-y fishes down with an
Almond Joy candy bar {okay, or TWO}
may or may not be an ideal follow up to one
freaking fantastic "Hot Yoga" session a' la Sweaty Chix Fitness...

I'm just sayin'.

Xo,
You.

Dear Self,

" I'm just sayin' "
is sooooo 2010.
Get with it, loser.

Xo,
You.

Dear Self,

I still say Rad and also regularly say
"what's up wit dat?" and "Yo!",
and you're whining about "Just sayin'?"

Mayhaps YOU need to pick your battles.

Just sayin'.

Xo,
You.

Ps. Since when do we care so much about being "with it," anyway?
Let's not. Mmmkay?

On another note...

Dear Karma,

Thank you.

Thank you for being the tried and true beeotch that everyone
{or maybe it's just me} wishes and prays for you to be.

I have a friend who got fired from his job under very
unfortunate, dishonest, dramatic, evil, mean, and horrible circumstances.
I won't go into details {cause you like, already totally know, duh.}.

Let's just say that upon learning of this very sad situation,
I found myself 8 months pregnant
{translation: hormonal as the day is long}
and sobbing hysterically to my lawyer father
as I tried to tell him about the awful
{and clearly unethical} things that were being done to my friend.

And do you remember what my zen/buddah/lawyer of father said?

He said something like:

"I think he will be much sorrier if he tries to get down in the gutter and fight with people like this.
It sounds to me like he should steer clear of them and just try to move on."

And then I sobbed harder because I simply COULD NOT birf my baby into a world where people like...like... like THEM could prance around ruining lives and practically get away with MURDER and Bahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

{Remember the hormones I mentioned earlier?}

Yeah.

And my dad, clearly confused and prolly a little bit concerned about his daughter's mental health at this point, said: {in his calm, loving, Buddah-like way}

"Honey, people like this will usually sink themselves if left to their own devices for long enough. And your friend will be glad he steered clear of them when that day comes."

And you know, my dad is kind of amazing.
Kind of my favorite.
And something deep down in my belly told me that he was right.

It also might have been Tennyson protesting the
spicy burrito I'd made out with a few hours earlier,
but I'm pretty sure it was my dad's inherent rightness.
Yes, that.

So I sent a prayer up to you, Karma.

The prayer of a hysterical,
psychotically pregnant 30 year old
who NEEDED to believe that the world was a good and decent place
to birf an innocent little person up into.

And boy did you deliver.

The vultures have now turned on one another and are currently pecking each other alive.
It is wondrous, and beautiful, and everything I had hoped for when I sent a spiteful, mean-spirited wish your way. The fact that I even made such a wish may sound petty, and well, just downright mean, but these people are not fit to live in normal society. Seriously.

With any luck, they'll rat themselves out so severely that all of the fraudulent paperwork they've produced over the years will surface in its entirety and land those suckers in jail.

Oh karma, it's just so great.

If you had a physical address, there would SO be a dozen carrot cake cupcakes heading your way.

But for now,
I hope that my simple "thanks." will do.

You are rad, Karma!

Just plain rad.

Xo,
Lola

Dear Kortland,

2011-05-22T20:31:00.000-07:00

I love you so much.
You are BRAVE.
You are FUN. {and funny}
You bring so much light and joy into our lives,
it's sort of unreal sometimes.
We love you so much.
Good Job!

xo,
Mom.

A thank you note.

2011-05-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Jenny,
{Yoga instructor at Sweaty Chix Fitness in Springville}

Thank you.

Ever since I had my baby, I have been waiting for my body to magically bounce back the way it did seven years ago when I had my firstborn. It's um, kinda not happening this time. I suspect that this is because thirty year old bodies recover from pregnancy a wee bit slower than 23 year old bodies. I mean, I'm no expert, but that would be my guess.

And I am constantly beating myself up about it. I have a stack of size four jeans in the tippy top of my closet taunting me non-stop. They are cute. They were expensive. {Not that I paid full price, but they are expensive jeans that I got for killer prices and I have a little issue/attachment disorder when it comes to nice things that I got for a really great deal. I'm working on it... but that's another letter for another day.} I have wanted to get skinny enough to wear them {sans any hint of the dreaded muffin top} for months now.

{9 months to be precise...but who's counting?}

Oh, right.
Me.
I'm counting.

I can't diet to get those last few pounds off because I don't believe in dieting.

So it looked as though exercise would be my only hope.

So I went to your class.

I went to your class because:

I want to be skinny.
I want to look cute in a swimsuit this summer.
I don't want to have to buy new clothes, because I am cheap.
I want to feel comfortable in my own skin.
I don't want to be all fidgety and posturing in an effort to give myself flattering lines.
Because I just don't like me the way that I am.
I am suffering from a case of "not good enough."

But about 5 minutes into class, it felt like all of that melted away, and I was there for me.
Not the body that houses me, but the me that will live, and create, and express long after the body that houses me is gone.

For the first time in months, I heard a little voice inside, and it whispered that I can love this body just the way it is, because this body has been very good to me.

I can lift a chubby baby.
I can clean my house for hours.
I can make delicious meals to nourish the people that I love.
I can jog with my dogs.
I can wrestle with a seven year old.

I am so lucky.

Then, as waves of gratitude washed over me, I put everything I had into the difficult poses and I had to breathe with all my might, and I trembled and sweated like a motha {because it is, indeed, HOT yoga}and I felt so STRONG.

From now on, 

I am going to come to your class because:

I want to feel good,
and I want to be strong.

Strong for my boys.
Strong for my family.
Strong for myself.

I heard some Hollywood actress being interviewed on TV today, and she said that she doesn't want to teach her daughter to exercise for the sake of "making herself small" {a.k.a. skinny, etc.}. Instead, she wanted to instill in her the desire to be fast, strong, agile, healthy, capable.

And I loved that sentiment.

And I want to stop buying into society's BS that tells me that I only have value if my breasts are gigantic and the rest of me is as tiny as humanly {and inhumanely} possible. My focus and time and talents and energy will be utterly wasted if I allow myself to zero in on garbage like that.

And your class helped me see that tonight.

I felt so much JOY in my body.
I felt excited to be me.

I thought about how each and every "flaw" that I perceived within my body was the direct result of my body GROWING and PRODUCING two of the most miraculous/beautiful/joy-giving boys I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. {Okay, SOME of the flaws were also the direct result of too many powdered sugar doughnuts and Milky Way bars...but those are sort of out-of-this-world wonderful too, and totally worth it IMHO.}

So anyway, Jenny, I know this is a random {and far too detailed} note coming from someone you totally don't even know. But, what I'm trying to say is:

Thanks.

Your class is rad.
{Yes, I just said rad.}

I loved it,
and going to it helped me to remember to love me.
...and I love that.
...so, um, there's a lot of love up in this joint,
and it's getting awkward.

So I'll stop typing...now.

See you Thursday!

xo,
Lola

Dear Self,

2011-05-16T00:01:00.000-07:00

{Warning: Gratuitous boy/baby/shelterdog/shunshine/grass/quilt shots ahead.}

The next time you think that mayhaps it would be a great idea to go sit on a blanket in the side yard on a sunny Sunday afternoon, and shoot some snappy shots of your {reallyreallyreally cute... you know, in your humble opinion} kids as they snuggle with the most delightful, furry soul to ever charm his way out of an animal shelter...

You will probably be totally, totally right.

Good job, you.

Xo,

Lola

How was your day?
The girls over at Communal Global want to know.
Link up, link back, and SHARE!

Dear Lady Gaga,

2011-05-11T09:10:00.000-07:00

So, I just thought I'd write to let you know how I've been feeling as of late. Let me start by saying, I have just ADORED your music ever since you burst onto the scene with fab hits such as "Just Dance" and "Poker Face." People would say to me, "But she's such a weirdo!" and I would say "That's because she is a genius! An absolute GENIUS I tell ya!" {Yep, that's what I would say...}

Then you came out with hits like "Paparazzi" and "Bad Romance" and "Love Game" and you kinda pushed the envelope, you know, with all of your nakedness and underwear sporting and such, but still, against my better judgment, I remained loyal and true.

Then you wore a meat dress.
And I'll admit, I thought that was pretty nuts.
Not cool, {per se}
Or statment-y and profound... {so much}
Just pretty nuts.

But still, I thought, many of the world's greatest artists were nuttier than a squirrel turd,
that's just the price one pays for brilliance. {You know, like Van Gogh, with all of the ear-mailing and love letters and such...}

Then you came out with songs like
"Allejandro" {a.k.a. a bad Ace of Base knock off}
"Born this Way" {a.k.a. a worse than bad Madonna knock off}
and
"Judas" {I don't even know what to label that one, other than to say that it's been done {and done and done and done anddoneanddoneanddoneandone....}

And now I am just embarassed.

I mean, I get it.
You're an artist.
You're edgy.

You have also committed to pushing a social /moral agenda that has completely incapacitated your ability to make good, fun, ineresting music anymore... it happens. {ask Madonna}

I just got finished watching your "Judas" and "Born this Way" videos, and to be honest, I felt like I was watching naked evil gyrating across a studio set in $800 dollar shoes.

And what's worse, I also felt like I was watching some random half Madonna, half Mariah Carey spawn of Lohan doing totally unoriginal things to totally unoriginal music.

Take your "Born this Way" video for example. Hey, I'm all about artistic expression, but birfing "symbolic-gay-hating-black-skyscraper-things" out of your nether-regions is {frankly} neither here nor there.

As for "Judas"... I just have one question:
Does Madonna like, get a royalty every time you bite/buy into her anti-christian, sacriligious hullabaloo?

Just for the record, your latest attempt at "shock factor" {a.k.a Judas}left me in a state of hysterical laughter. That video is so darn silly! I don't think you could try harder to be edgy and evil if you... um, tried harder!

Please allow me to share with you a secret that is little known or talked about in the music/movie/art industries, but is rather well-known among the rest of us:
IT'S NOT HARD TO THINK OF/ACT OUT/ DO HORRIBLE THINGS!
Really.
It's not.
Anyone could do it.
It doesn't make you cooler or smarter than everyone else.

In fact, to prove my point, I'm going to write a stupid song {having stolen my beat from Madonna, or Ace of Base}and then shoot a music video where I am drop-kicking kittens into a river and making my nine month old baby flip everyone the bird. I will follow it up by making out with an actor dressed up as Adolf Hitler, and burning crosses on a hillside. That'll show um, EVERYONE!

I will look SO smart, and SO cutting edge, and SO enlightened!

People will think:
"Wow! I just threw up a little in mouth,
and feel like I need to go take a shower,
but MAN that Lola is one brilliantly talented artist!"

And then I will be a millionaire recording artist who can get on any random high horse that she chooses and then I will ride said high horse right into a whole new slew of below average songs, and silly, silly videos. It will be great!

See you at the top.

xo,
Lola

if mothers were flowers, we'd pick...

2011-05-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Self,

Good job today.

You didn't freak out and feel sorry for yourself the way that you so awesomely did last year.

You enjoyed the moment.

You savored you children in good times and bad.

And when Kort got on your last nerve {sometime around 6:30 p.m.}

you politely asked the hubs to take him out to the car.

{Okay, okay, AFTER you said you were about to smack him,

but hey, you "said" it rather than "screamed" it, so technically you still did really well.}

Do even better next year, mmmkay?

Love,

Self

Dear Mom,

You are the best.

This was one wicked Mother's Day...

and you are the epitome of grace.

Thanks for being such a sweet gaga to all of these crazy {wonderful} babies.

You are my hero and I will love you for all of my days.

Love,

Your Daughter

Dear Mother-in-law,

Thank you for birfing my favorite person on the entire planet into the world.

{He was a ten pounder too, so on that note, thanks A LOT.}

And thanks for being so thoughtful all the time.

It's pretty ridiculous,

and even more wonderful than ridiculous.

I love you.

Love,

Your daughter according to the law ;)

Makeover sneak peek:

2011-04-18T20:51:00.000-07:00

I am going to be posting over at Housewife on Fire for the next little bit.
I would love it EVER so much if you would join me over there.

I just barely posted the before and afters of my living room and dining room makeovers and also have some fun, old school Easter stuff coming later this week too {woot woot!} so come for a visit, you know, if you're in the neighborhood. :)

I like the way he thinks.

2011-04-08T08:28:00.000-07:00

Kort lost yet another tooth this week whilst biting into what I'm sure was a totally delicious, {and totally legit} chicken nugget in the school cafeteria yesterday. So, he put it in a baggie and slipped it under his pillow when we tucked him in last night. About 20 minutes later, he came running out of his room and begged for us to let him take a minute to write a note to the tooth fairy.

We relented.

He sat down at my new desk and scribbled out a quick note. Then, without another word, and without letting us have so much as a PEEK at it, he swept the note under his arm and whisked himself off to bed.

That night, when the "tooth fairy" went into his room to make the switch, this is what she found:

As I'm sure you can imagine, she had a really good laugh.
Then she wrote a reply.
{And added a little glitter, for good measure...
you know, cause fairies are ALL ABOUT the glitter.}

She set the tooth back on the paper and slipped it under his door.

He was THRILLED to find it the next morning.
{Well, thrilled AND a little bummed about the
negatory on his request for a thousands G's.}

And it turns out, that not only does he still believe in the tooth fairy,
he still believes in Santa too!
WHA?
Yeah.
The other night when he said he thought it was "You and Dad."
I never fully admitted that it was,
I just said:
"Huh. Well, you shouldn't EVER say that to other kids, cause it will ruin Christmas for them."

So, I can only assume that he took that to mean that not believing in Santa ='s a pretty crummy Christmas...

...who knows?

Anyway. It was hilarious.
And fun to have the magic back.

Dear April,

2011-04-06T16:13:00.000-07:00

I keep trying to like you, April

but you snowed

{like, a dump load}

on my wedding day10 years ago.

Not cool, April.

But I keep trying to like you anyway...

and you keep disappointing me.

And just when I decide to let bygones be bygones

and sincerely try to love again,

You go and do something like this:

*sigh*

and totally redeem yourself!

{Pretty smart of you to get in with the boy.

Cause, as everyone knows:

If you're in with the boy,

you're in with me.}

Sincerely,

Lola

tummy time

2011-04-04T15:49:00.000-07:00

tummy time?

meh.

not so much, mom.

not.

so.

much.

The girls at communal global want to know what today is looking like in your little slice of the world.
Link up and share with us!

thoughts.

2011-04-03T19:58:00.000-07:00

i bought and painted 

the cutest lil' desk over the weekend!

i am totally kicking myself though because I was 

so.

totally. 

and ridiculously. 

excited about gettin' my spray paint on 

that I totally forgot to take 

"before" 

pictures of it. 

{frowny face goes here.}

But here is the end result.

{I am so in love.}

and the hubs and i were clearly out in the sun too long.

we screwed 3 of the 4 drawer pulls on upside down.

{awesome.}

and i wasn't sure if desperately wanting 

a backyard flock of chickens

and sincerely wanting to deliver a  

birfing baby goat

qualified me as a true blue redneck,

so i decided to make it more official and

didn't put on any sunscreen while 

working in the front yard.

yup.

so, my neck is officially a wonderful shade of 

tomato red.

so there, haters.

can't say i'm a poser now, can ya?

i'm the real deal baby!

{note for clarification: there technically aren't any "haters" that have officially called me a poser and what not. i just wanted to say "so there, haters." cause, while i may be a little bit country, i am way street and such too

...didn't you know?}

i must say it was a good day...

2011-03-29T16:28:00.000-07:00

{THERE nancy-pants, pictures of the oh so elusive Kortmeister...you happy now?} ;)

Today has been nice.

I feel like I actually got some

"big ticket items" tackled,

which is always rewarding.

I got a new desk,

and a new filing cabinet

that I have every intention

of spraying painting baby pink.

Not because I have a baby girl on the way or anything.

{Breathe, mom, breath.}

But because I am officially claiming me some

girly space up in this here nest.

So WARM UP March, I need to get my spray paint on!

{Now! ...um, please?}

I got Kort signed up for baseball {ahem, late}

cleaned my room,

folded 6 loads of laundry,

and

I even have dinner planned.

{gasp!}

It's true, friends.

The next time you hear Sarah Mclachlan singing that

"ordinary miracle" song on the radio.

Think of me.

Me and my miraculous ability to make dinner

1 to 2 out of the seven days in a given week.

Always miraculous.

That's me.

A modern day miracle worker.

Ten has yet another

horrendously bad runny nose.

It is so sad.

I took Kort to the library and let him pick out a bunch of chapter books.

We love the library.

It is like shopping - for FREE!

Shopping spreeeeeeeee!

Supermarket Sweeeeeeeep!

Only, it's better.

Because instead of a bunch of groceries, diapers, and what nots to put away,

we walk away with a compact stack {and delightful mixture} of adventure and information.

I love books so much.

Non-fiction for me, thanks.

Last week, I finished reading 600 pages of information

teaching me how to raise goats, rabbits, sheep, and ducks.

Totally did.

Then I washed that puppy down with a

200 page book about raising chickens.

Yup.

I guess it's true.

You can take the girl out of the EC,

but the EC clearly lies dormant in said girl

and then explodes into a full blown country-life obsession

when said girl turns 30, birfs a second baby,

and becomes hilariously enchanted with the

simple, quiet, self-reliant, c.o.u.n.t.r.y. way of life.

So, if you ever need help delivering a baby goat...

you know who to call. {Hint: me!}

On this library trip I picked up

"Columbine"

by Dave Cullen

One of my friends reviewed it on "Goodreads"

and something in me knew that I needed to read it.

Don't know why.

I'm 54 pages into it. Eeeesh.

Review to come. {Maybe. IF I finish...}

Kort has been an absolute peach.

He came home from school.

Did a list of chores that I gave him without protesting.

Then he snuggled down into his bean bag and read more of his book.

{Don't you love the sound of children reading...

VOLUNTARILY!

Oh, be still my joyous, hoppity, soul}

Okay, I'm off to finish dinner

{sundried tomatoes and chicken in pasta with scones for dessert}

and to wipe Tentens' nose for the hundredth time

{while he promptly

screams at me,

cries at me,

and stares me down

like the nostril terrorist that I am.}

Happy Tuesday, friends.

a good plan.

2011-03-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

so that's how i'm gonna roll.
{yo.}

Have you ever...

2011-03-27T20:28:00.000-07:00

had a rough day?
{okay, that's probably a stupid question.}
"Duh, ~~winning~~ YES, Lola. Everyone has bad days!"
Okay, okay, I'll be more specific.
Have you ever had one of those days when you just feel crazy?

When everything feels wrong with the world,
Where you're tired,
Where you're frustrated,
Where you are restless and feel like you don't belong,
and you think that you need to move far, far away,
and just get the heck away from it all...

you know?
Where you scream at your seven year old
Because he won't just. get. out. of. the. gosh. dang. bath. tub.
And then you ground him for an entire week,
{which is like, obviously a bit excessive,
but he WAS being super defiant,
and now it's too late
because if I go back on the punishment,
he won't take me seriously,
so now I have gone and grounded my poor kid for a week
because I am a crabby, crazy nut-head
and I can't even take it back.}

The worst part?
As I was squealing:

"Okay, fine. 1-2-3, NOW you're grounded all of MONDAY!!!"
and
"1-2-3, NOW you're grounded all of TUESDAY!!!"

and as I got to FRIDAY...
then, and only then does the hubs pipe up
and call out from the other room:

"Kort, if you don't get out of the tub RIGHT NOW,
I'm throwing your Nintendo dsi in the garbage."

Um, can you say naked lightning?
Yeah.
Naked lightning.

Good old hubs - he has that kid's currency nailed.

I wish he had intervened when I was threatening "TUESDAY!!!!!"
so that I hadn't gone and doomed myself to
an entire week of being cooped up with a bored seven year old.

Frankly, I feel really sorry for both of us.

So yeah,
due to what I can only assume are hormones run amok,
I am feeling sad, irritable, irrational,
and all around just nuttier than a squirrel turd.

But, I know this too shall pass.

But you know it's bad
when multiple {read: way too many... times three}
mini candy bars can't smother the irritability in chocolatey goodness.
{Believe me, I just tried...and I just might try again in a few hours.}

On the bright side?
Kort forgave me.
And we are going to spend this coming week reading books
and working on projects around the house.
On the other bright side?
I get to munch these baby cheeks whenever I want.
Chocolate may not be doing the trick these days,
but at least I have a fool-proof stand by.

Breakfast of Champions

2011-03-23T22:42:00.000-07:00

Kort has begged {for a rather long time now} to eat breakfast at school.
I ALWAYS say no.

This is one part because I don't want to pay $1.25 for it, and 3 parts because I don't think that America's schools are all that skilled at putting together nutritional meals for their students.

Case in point?

A corn dog {yeah, you read that right, a CORN DOG - a.k.a breaded, deep-fried cancer stick} is the meal replacement option at lunch EVERYDAY. That's right. This means that if my kid doesn't want to eat lasagna and green beans, or turkey and mashed potatoes on any given day... he can ALWAYS opt to eat a corn dog instead. Yup. Always. I didn't even know that was an option until sometime last year when one of Kort's buddies let it slip that Kort was eating a corn dog every. single. day. and had done so for WEEKS on end.

{And yes, if he develops cancer in the next decade, you best believe that the Utah School District will have a class action suit on their hands. Who on earth let's a FIRST grader choose between something marginally healthy and something completely unhealthy on a daily basis. REALLY, school system? Really?}

So yeah, when it comes down to me trusting the school district to have any idea as to what they are doing in the nutrition department...

Well, I just don't.
Simple as that.

Another great reason to opt out of school breakfast is that we really try to keep Kort's sugar intake at ZERO before sending him off to school, because let's face it: He is the last kid on earth who needs any extra energy heading into a school setting. I adore his teacher. I really don't want to do mean things to her, and sending a sugared up Kortland twitching, babbling, and squealing into her classroom each day would qualify as just that. Meany, mean mean..

So, Kort eats a breakfast burrito every morning. Lots of protein in the eggs, and little bit of carb in the fresh tortilla, some veggie-ness curteousy of the salsa... you know, a GOOD, basic meal. He drinks milk and sometimes eats a lil' California Cutie orange, and we call it good.

Well, I had a weird night last night, so the hubs hopped up and took over this morning so I could sleep. {What a peach.} He got Kort totally ready and was going to cook him some eggs {his daddy specialty} but Kort balks.

He wants a breakfast burrito.
Dad can't make breakfast burritos.
Well he wants one anyway.
Dad says no.
Kort says "It's soooo easy!"
{And then proceeds to tell his dad how to do it - DUH!}
Dad says he can't.

{Aw, so nice to feel irreplaceable.
Thank heaven there's something that delicious hunk of man can't do,
I was starting to feel inferior...;)}

Dad has a light bulb moment.
Kort can go have breakfast at school today!
{We DID tell him that
"sometime"
and
"maybe once"
he could go do breakfast at school.
So now was as good a time as any.}

When dad offered, Kort's head nearly exploded from the joy of it all, and he ran screaming from the house so as to have as much cafeteria time as humanly possible before school started.

Wanna know what he had for breakfast today?
{He gave me the run down after school:}

He had cereal.
This Kind:

And heaven forbid he use plain old white milk on his mini box of sugary delights. No, no, that simply won't do. His milk should match the cereal {duh}. It clearly has to be chocolate. So that's precisely what he used.

And as if all that wasn't bad enough, he chased it down with this lil' number:

Are ya KIDDING me school system?
A CHURRO?!

FYI:
Churros are carnival treats.
They are for children at the circus...or the state fair.
They fall into a category with funnel cakes, mini doughnuts, and deep fried twinkies.
On what planet is a churro a breakfast food!!!???

{I'll tell you what planet:
A planet I would like to dwell upon.
A planet where I would also likely be made queen of all churro-eating things
because I would tame them with the magic trick of eating 20 churros in a row,
and not even batting an eye because I love me some dang churros.}

But we're not talking about me
{or my less than moderate/healthy/balanced churro scarfing tendencies...}.
We are talking about a second grader.
A second grader people!
MY second grader, to be exact.
And this simply will not do.

Well, I sure hope Kort enjoyed his school breakfast,
{and I have no doubt that he did.}
cause it will be his last.

In all fairness, I might just be jealous of his churro.
Hm, wonder if there's a "bring your parent to school breakfast" in the next few weeks...

the end of an era.

2011-03-23T11:26:00.000-07:00

So, last night I yoinked another one of Kort's teeth.

It was ridiculously loose, but he still wouldn't hunker down and pull it - so mom had to step in. He was thrilled to see it come out into my hand and exclaimed {as he always does post-tooth-yoinking-a-la-mom}

"That didn't even hurt!"

{Magic fingers, my dear friends. Magic, tooth-yoinking fingers on this girl right here. Ten of 'em.}

We put the tooth in a plastic bag and slipped it under his pillow at bed time. We fed Armor and Affie {the hermit crabs}and climbed into his loft bed together. We talked about his day at school, and about a possible trip to the beach this summer... and then, he totally blindsided me.

I imagine that most parents dread this particular question...
I know that I certainly have.
{And no, it's not about the origin of babies...
though I'm sure that one is on the horizon too...}

"Mom? Is Santa Claus really real?"
{GULP.}

"Um, well... what do you think?"

{Long pause}
"I think it's just you and dad."
{Nooooooooooooooooooo!}
I was tempted to insist that Santa was real. Or to force that little monkey into believing a' la the good old "Santa won't bring you presents if you don't believe in him." stand-by... but I just couldn't do it. I don't want to be the mother of "that weird kid" on the playground who is getting into fist fights defending Santa's honor because "His mom says Santa is real and she would never EVER lie to him so stop. dissing. SANTA!!!"

Cause yeah, that could end badly.

I just loved having the magic in our house though.
I still vividly remember laying in bed in our house in Monroe and holding my breath because I heard noises and was SURE that it was reindeer on the roof and I didn't want Santa to know I was awake. It was a supremely magical time for me, and one of the greatest gifts my parents could have every given.

I know some parents think that it's dishonest, or that no fat man in a red suit should get credit for giving presents that were actually bought with their hard-earned money and blah blah blah.... But I love the magic of it all. Love. It.

But, alas...

Santa Claus is "no more."
{At least not round these parts...}
Thank HEAVEN that we have a new little dude who can keep the magic alive in our house for years to come. This next December will be kind of a bummer though. Ten is too young to believe and Kort is officially a nonbeliever... Kort will be really excited about keeping the magic alive for his siblings though. It will surely be fun to have a co-conspirator from here on out.

In other news:
*My baby looks something akin to amazing with a bowl on his head.
*I get to have lunch with a favorite friend at her house today and also photograph her ADORABLE triplets! {Yes, I just said triplets... you read that right.}

Happy Wednesday, friends.

2011-03-17T21:25:00.000-07:00

I'm

a lumberjack

and

I'm

okay!

I sort of really like him. And I love how he sticks his tongue out non-stop these days. And I also love how he's already giving me 'tude...at seven months old. I was calling to him and tickling him {okay, and maybe I was poking him and pinching his cheeks too, but only a little} in an effort to get him to smile and look up at the camera,and this is what I got instead:

Pretty sure this is the facial equivalent of the now famous "Beave me alone!!!!" from Kortland's toddler years. Ah, good times.

I'd like to officially put my order in for three or four more of these thankyouverrrymuch.

The end.

Bring it on...

2011-03-16T21:14:00.000-07:00

Yeah, super moon.

I'm talkin' to you.

Bring it.

Do your worst.

I'm not scurrrred.

Nope. Not even a little.

I know that full moons sometimes turn people into werewolves... but, um, has anyone ever heard about full "super" moons turning people into zombies?

Oh, um, no reason.

Just wonderin'...

P.S. I KNOW that the super moon is all hype. I. am. joking. {shocker, but I clearly have to make that distinction.} HOWEVER it was particularly fun to hiss "super mooooon!" at the hubs roughly a thousand times today while doing our monthly food storage run to Costco.

We think we are so funny.

Today, we got HALF of our year's supply of water {Can you believe that is only HALF of what we need? Nuts.}, 1 gallon of honey, a ton of canned goods, some quinoa, pancake mix, rice, beans, spices, agave, medicine, rubbing alcohol, and lots and lots of canned chicken and tuna cause I want me some protein every here and there yo!

People looked at us like we were nuts as we were leaving the store.

And yes, it took everything we had not to look back at them with crazy eyes and say:

yep, you guessed it.

"Super mooooooooon!"

weekend recap.

2011-03-13T22:18:00.000-07:00

What a weekend.

This little dude is officially 

7 months old today.

{Crazy, huh?}

It has all gone by so fast!

And guess who slept through the whole night without nursing even once!

Did you guess Tennyson? Cause if you did, you are SO right. {smartie}

He slept until 4:00 a.m. and then woke up and was chirping a gurgling in his bed,
and I got up {in a groggy-sleepy-stupor} and started wandering into his nursery,
but then I stopped and thought better of it.

He was doing good, so why not see if he could just sing himself back to sleep?

So I did.

And he did!

He woke up at 6:45 {which was technically 7:45 courtesy of DST}

And he was happy as a clam... again!

Oh Dr. Weissbluth, 

how do I love thee? 

Let me count the ways:

1. My baby is now sleeping through the night because of your book..

and

2. Oh, well....um, that's all.

{but believe me, that's ENOUGH!}

A Lola letter, if you will:

Dear anonymous person who commented on my couponing post and said that life is too short to be spent wasting time couponing and worrying about a year's supply of food storage,

Did you SEE what happened in Japan over the weekend?

Well, what if that happens in the U.S.?

Oh wait, experts just stated that it's not an IF, it is a WHEN.

And what do we do WHEN huge earthquakes, tsunamis, and other natural disasters happen on such a large scale and in so many different areas that there isn't NEARLY enough aid to go around?

And there is no electricity, gas, or water...

What then?

And furthermore, what if the earthquake turns some people into zombies?

Huh?

Methinks that life won't be "short" enough if one finds oneself unprepared in such a situation...

Just sayin.

As for couponing, well, yes, it CAN take a lot of time, and if I was loaded I probably wouldn't bother. But, we are normal, everyday people with normal, everyday {or even less than the average} incomes and it is HUGELY worth my while to save and even get tons of free stuff {including free medicine - woo hoo!} to stock our emergency supplies. I'm sure it's not for everyone, however, I am more than happy to "waste" my time if it benefits my little ones and loved ones in the long run.

So there.

Neener neener.

xo,

Lola

A few more Lola letters {if you'll indulge me}:

Dear Charlie Sheen,

You are clearly nuts.

It is sad.

And leave Jon Cryer the heck alone.

I recently heard that you were making a stink about the fact that he hasn't called or contacted you to see if you were okay.

Methinks that mayhaps you should just be grateful that he hasn't dropped by to flip you the bird and burn down your house, a since that is precisely what I would do if you stripped me of my livelihood in one fell swoop because you think it's more important to snort coke, shack up with "goddesses" {a.k.a homely strippers who don't nag you for being a ginormous loser and are therefore the most wonderful, goddess-like people you have ever met}and make delusional home web casts all about winning {duh}.

You are a stinker, Mr. Sheen.

A delusional little stinker.

Boo.

xo,

Lola

***

Dear TV executives

 who canceled

 "Two and a Half Men",

Yay you!!!!

Not only did Charlie Sheen need a swift kick in the pants, you also needed to stop funding THE most horribly written/acted sitcom in television history.

But DO start a new show with good writing and Jon Cryer in a starring role, yes?

I love ducky.

He is a good guy and should get a great new job.

Thanks,

Lola

Dear Hubs,

THANK YOU for:
Back tickles.
Taking out the trash all the time.
My new basement!
My newly cleaned driveway!
Being the cutest dad ever!
Being the best hubs ever!
Hanging all of our beautiful new doors!
Playing fun games with our son!
Changing diapers without me even asking!
Being the full time laundry guru!

Love all that...
{and love you even more.}

xoxoxoxoxo,

Lola

Crying It Out.

2011-03-10T10:46:00.000-08:00

So, I have yet another confession.

If you are one of those moms who has ever {and I mean EVER}let their baby cry it out...well,

I thought you were flipping nuts.
And kind of cold-hearted.
And sort of probably scarring your child for life.
And like, such as...

Yep.

When Kort was a newborn, he never cried.
This is prolly 90% because he was just a really happy, content baby,
and 10% because we pretty much never set him down or made him wait for anything.
{Ever.}

Kort slept in bed with me {family bed} and nursed every two hours throughout the entire night.

I thought that this was normal.

At the ripe old age of 23,
the inevitable sleep deprivation didn't phase me.
Not one bit.

I was a stay at home mom, living in a one bedroom apartment, and I didn't have much going on. Simply put, it was easy for me, and I could not {for the life of me} understand why some women would make their babies sit in a crib in a dark room all alone and cry their lil' guts out while she sat there and did nothing.

Seriously, what is the point of THAT!!!!! {I wondered to myself.}

Cue baby #2...
7 YEARS later...

Tens is just like his big brother.
He wakes up in two hour sections the. whole. night.

He goes to bed at 7:00 and then eats at
9:00
11:00
1:00
3:00
and then wakes up for good at 4:30.

{Yeah, you read that right, FOUR THIIIIRTY!!!!!}

And now that I am {ahem} thirty,
and trying {ha!} to blog regularly,
and working on a new t.v. segment,
and running a full-sized household,
with a yard,
and two dogs,
and hermit crabs,
and a 7 year old who must be sent off to 2nd grade every morning...

I FEEL LIKE I AM GOING TO DIE IF I DON'T START GETTING MORE SLEEP.

Even then, I didn't think I could try the dreaded CIO.
Just couldn't do it.

As a result, I have been sick for 3 consecutive months.
Sore throats, sinus infections, a horrendous flu, and even a delightful little bought of PINK EYE!
Fun stuff.

So, last week, this is where I found myself:

My house is a wreck.
I am a wreck.
I am so deliriously exhausted at night
that I am afraid I might fall asleep and drop my baby...

Enough is enough.

So I reviewed the concepts of: "Healthy Sleep Habits Happy Child" again, and I tried to wrap my head around the idea of letting my baby cry it out.

And I still didn't feel like I could do it.

Two DELIRIOUSLY horrid days later, I thought maybe I could.

And the hubs said:
"Okay, but you really have to decide and then commit, because it's pointless to put him through that if you are going to cave 30 minutes into it."

True.

So, we decide that his bed time might also be too early, and remembered that when he was tiny, he would go to bed for good at 8:00 and he was sleeping better back then.

So, Tentens goes down for the count at 8:00 and is up and ready to eat at 10:00.

I have been bracing myself for this for the past two hours.
I can do this.
I can do it!

Tens is crying, but it's a "protest" cry rather than a hysterical "I'm fairly certain I have been abandoned!!!!" cry, so for now, I am staying calm.

HOWEVER, if, at any time, it turns into an "I'm fairly certain I have been abandoned!!!" cry, I have reserved the right to run in there an scoop him up.

Kort has a nightmare, wakes up, and comes out to talk to me.

Thank heaven. I need a distraction like nobody's business.

We decide to pick out the books he will take with him to school for the Dr. Seuss Birthday Read-a-thon the following day. Tens is still crying, but it is still just a protest cry, and now it is starting and stopping... like he is forgetting to cry, then remembers, and starts crying again, and then forgets again...

I get Kort all set up and tucked back into bed,
go into my bedroom,
and the monitor is silent.

Oh my goodness, REALLY?

I wait 2 solid minutes.

Yup. Still silent.

He fussed for just over half an hour...
and now he is sleeping!!!

I run into the living room.
The hubs is playing Black Ops.
I do a totally crazy
{and totally appealing/sexy, I'm sure}
"The baby just went back to sleep on his own and NEITHER of us DIED, so YAY!" jig in my bathrobe...

I can't believe it!

He woke up again at 1:30 a.m. and fussed for 5 minutes... then WENT BACK TO SLEEP!
{Yes, again! - Can you believe that? It is like, science ...or, a miracle, or something...}

When he woke up at 3:30, I nursed him {because Dr. Weissbluth says that eating 1-2 times a night is normal... but 4-5? Not so much.} Also, had I not nursed him at this point, I would have exploded {if you smell what I"m steppin' in}.

Then, for the best part yet:
he slept {soundly} until eight freaking thirty!

I almost exploded again... but this time from joy.

As for the next night?
Went to bed at 8:00 and slept until 4:00!!!
Ate at 4:00 and slept until 7:00!!!

And he has done that every night since.

OH!

Why didn't someone shake me {like really hard}a long time ago and say:

"Crying it out is where it's at yo! Get on board or go nuts you stubborn little loon!"

So, yeah.

I wouldn't recommend letting your little one cry it out if they are hysterical, but I think that they probably rarely are. I was worried that it would make Ten insecure and clingy, but he woke up happy as a clam the next morning. It was amazing to see the difference that a GREAT night of sleep made for him as well! One of my friends recently told me the following about nursing at night:

"It's like someone offering you a big slice of chocolate cake. You're NOT gonna turn it down, BUT if someone doesn't show up and hand it to you, you might whine for a bit, but then you get over it."

{Okay, I think I botched that, but you get the idea.}

So, my sincerest apologies to all of the women that I thought were NUTS all these years for letting their babies CIO. Turns out, YOU were the smarties gettin' some Z's while I was an exhausted, overly emotional basket case making up stories of child abuse and neglect in my head and subsequently condemning myself to midnight boobie bondage for 12 months straight.. {This comes as no surprise that you were smarter than me... but still.}

Don't misunderstand, I love to nurse... and I'm definitely not saying that nursing is "bondage" during the daylight hours. It just starts to feel that way when you are up. all. night. This time around, I was a total ZOMBIE and was literally to the point where I was sick and crabby all of the time with a heaping side of losing my mind.

However, if you are a mom who LOVES to get up with your baby all night, and NEVER let them cry it out, that's okay too! You aren't dumb{at. all.} if it's what you like/want to do. I loved raising Kort the way I did. I don't think that I did it "wrong." I had the energy and resources to do it that way, and I enjoyed it, and therefore, due to my limited experience, I couldn't understand why someone would do it a different way.

The older I get, the more I realize that I don't know. And the more that I see women pushing their own agendas onto other women, the more I think that we should all just love and support each other, because motherhood is hard enough without a committee of naysayers standing by and critiquing their every move.

We are TIRED.
And hormonal.
And doing the best that we can with what we have been given dang it!

As for me personally, I say - yay for sleep training!

Dr. Weissbluth's book {Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child.}is awesome, BUT really redundant and kind of contradicts itself a lot.

ie:
NEVER wake a sleeping baby.
Never, EVER wake a sleeping baby.
Don't disrupt a child's sleep patterns.
Never wake a sleeping baby.

{30 pages later...}

"If the child is sleeping too long and their extended nap is going to throw off their schedule,
WAKE THEM UP!"

{WHA?!?! But you just said... oh nevermind!}

But seriously, the book has a lot of good information.
Just keep in mind that "d*mn it ~~Jim~~ girls, he's a doctor, not a writer!"

So yeah, I am FINALLY sleeping more than 2 hours at a time, for the first time in SIX months.

And it feels good.
Oh so very good.

Xo,

Lola

Food Storage. {and such}

2011-03-06T19:58:00.000-08:00

Wow, is this really what it has come to?
A post a WEEK?
Boo to that.

I never thought I'd need to make a goal to BLOG more often...but I might have to do just that. Between prepping a new TV segment, helping the hubs finish the basement, and sleeping for very short, and very few 2 hour hour increments and trying to maintain a livable home environment... I guess I just haven't been able to eek out the spare time needed to write and think {and not particularly in that order}.

So, I said that the food storage post was a post all it's own... and boy is it ever.

Where to start...
Okay, I know where to start.

I like watching my kids eat.
It's cute.
And comforting.
And often funny.
And I just like it.

And the other day, I was thinking...

thinking that our economy is going to pot...
thinking that there are a lot of scary Hitler-esque wanna be's out there who don't like the U.S.
thinking that they have some pretty freaky weapons that they might send our way...
thinking that some of the biological warfare stuff just might have a zombie virus in it
{hey, it could happen}

All of the "paranoid government/world relations" stuff aside, I was also thinking that
My spouse, beloved offspring, and I are living on a gigantic fault line...
one that was set to go all sorts of nutty AWHILE ago...
{translation: it could go all sorts of nutty anytime now.}
Now, one might argue that I will be smashed by my house
{wicked witch of the west style}
in said earthquake, and that a year's supply of food storage won't do me any good.

And to you I say,
"You may very well be right."
BUT
In the event that I DO, in fact, live to fight another day...
I would like to do so with food in my belly and mayhaps even some deodorant too,
thankyouverrrrymuch.

And while I'm not going to live my life in fear from here on out,
I sure as heck think it would be prudent to pull together a year's supply of food storage.
{at the VERY least}

All of the "Utah is on a gigantic fault line" and "biological-warfare-zombie-virus" stuff aside,
I am a Mormon.
And food storage is just something we do.
Our prophets and apostles tell us to do it.
And they tend to be right about these sorts of things.
So I am thinking "Hey, why not?"

But that's not all I'm thinking...

I'm thinking:
If the zombie virus makes people all crazy, and society goes haywire,
and I can't go to the grocery store...
I want to hide in my basement,
burn piles of firewood,
snuggle,
sing songs,
and WATCH MY KIDS EAT.

Cause you know what would be the WORST thing in the world?

...No, not being tied to a chair and forced to watch back to back episodes of "The Tyra Show"
{but close}

It would be.... watching my kids NOT eat!

I'm their mom.

It's my job to make sure that my kids can eat...even if Utah County becomes the new zombieland...that's no excuse for letting my little dudes go hungry. {and no, I'm not saying zombie-hungry, I am saying -we have miraculously escaped the virus and are hiding in our basement without food -hungry}

Oh yes... not even then.

Do I sound nuts yet?
{Okay, for the record, I am kidding about the zombie virus...that would be kinda crazy though, right?}

Well hold on, cause here we go...

*I am also getting butane and propane camping stoves so we can cook indoors.
*We are also going to get a TON of fire wood for our wood burning stove, because our furnace won't work.
*I am also getting sub zero sleeping bags so that we can use them if we run out of firewood and can't go out to the mountains to get any {you know... because of the zombies...}
*I am also stockpiling freeze-dried, heirloom seeds of every kind so that we can grow our own food for years to come...

And now I want my own backyard chickens because I think they would provide delicious, protein-y fresh eggs in a time of much wheat eating.

I also made the hubs order red chili powder paint balls to use against dangerous looters {who wanna hurt my family or steal our chickens}because, while I don't want to have real guns in the house... I don't mind shooting mean people in the face with 15 chili balls per second.

Nope, don't mind that at all.

And, for the record, if nice, hungry people came to our house and knocked on our door and said "Hi, we are hungry." we would SO feed them. They could even move in with us. We would be nice to them, and share all we had. Because, once again, we are Mormons, and that's just how we roll.

And as for the zombies?
Well, Mormons don't have any rules about being nice to zombies...
So I would probably chili-paint-ball 'em in the face.

Couponing {and such}

2011-02-28T00:01:00.000-08:00

I have a confession.

{Well, two... actually.}

One, is that I have recently become OBSESSED with getting a year's supply of food storage for my family.

Like, nerdy obsessed.

Like, you would laugh at me really hard if you even had the slightest sliver of an idea as to just exactly HOW obsessed...

Like, I can hardly have a conversation with anyone about anything OTHER than food storage and survival gear obsessed... (just ask Celeste, she'll tell you.)

Like, I'm officially "that weird girl at the party who is a big ol' Debbie Downer who keeps on leewaying every. single. conversation. into some random discussion about food storage" obsessed...

{but I suppose that is a post for another day...}

And two, I have a deep and abiding jealousy of girls who are ridiculously rad {yes, I just said rad} couponers.

They post pictures of their hauls on facebook and on their blogs {photos of something like, oh, I don't know, 10 bottles of lotion, 23 boxes of fruits snacks, 2 packages of Qtips, and roughly 3,000 diapers on their dining room table...} and then they say:

"Got all of this for $9.35!"

And I immediately turn a sickly-sad shade of Hulkish green.

Let me put this into perspective for you:

I'm not jealous of people who have amazing cars.

I'm not jealous of people who have huge houses.

I'm not jealous of people who throw ridiculous, over-the-top parties for their 2 year olds {who frankly, couldn't care less about the $4,000 decorations, and instead, spend the bulk of their time crawling in and out of a cardboard box that is clearly more entertaining/desirable than the over the top present it once housed, and then bursting into tears when mom rips them away from said box in order to force them to blow out the candles on their far too expensive cake... }

I'm not jealous of people who are super pretty.

I'm not even jealous of people who are smarter than me. {Which is a good thing, since most people probably are...that could put a serious damper on my social life.}

I AM, however, suuuuper jealous of people who get awesome deals on things.

Ah, yes.

Couponing is the latest craze
{or, even already "getting old"
and "so last season" and such, eh?}.

But I am terrified of it.

Terrified of looking stupid because I got the wrong product for the wrong coupon.
Terrified of snarky clerks rolling their eyes at me and thinking "you crazed little cheapo!" with each and every scan of a coupon.
Terrified of the tapping toes of impatient store customers waiting in line behind me.
Terrified of the exasperated sighs of moms with 4 kids under the age of five hanging over the sides of her shopping cart {wiping boogs on their shirt sleeves and squealing for gum and Ring Pops, no less} waiting in line behind me.

Yep, I think terrified is a pretty fair word to sum up my feelings regarding couponing...

And thus, I have waited on the sidelines.

That is, until now.

I finally went to a class.

It was everything I was afraid it would be.

The presenter was witty, fun, funny, down to earth, and easy to listen to.

She also pulled out a receipt that could stretch from here to Timbuktu. This glorious strip of paper stood as undeniable, irrefutable evidence that getting three hundred and something something dollars worth of stuff for a mere thirteen something something dollars was not ONLY a mere possibility... it was, in fact, a reality.

I was hooked.

The very thought of getting a deal like that sent me on a high that was potent enough to warrant a DD {ahem, meaning a designated driver...not a bra} when attending such seminars in the future.

I went home, talked the hubs' ear off for roughly 2 hours about the exciting world of "FREE!!!", raided my in-laws' newspaper pile, and dug out every coupon booklet they had from the past month and a half.

Then I started clipping.

Even the clipping was heaven.

It's like crafting,
only instead of clipping out pieces of
future modge-podgery,
you are clipping out
colorful pieces of money.

Little gifts of
Dove deodorant,
cheap soup,
and possibilities.

Then, today, I actually went.

Oi.
{understatement}

First there was Smith's.

It took forever to gather my items.

Check coupon, check product.
Check coupon, check product.
Read the fine print.
Read the fine print again
...and again.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
FINALLY
{and I do mean finally}
I get to the register, and I am ready.

I have coupons in hand,
Items laid out in order,
and a plan.

I am not going to make everyone wait
{and tap their toes at me}
while the cashier and I put out fire after fire
of coupon crises....

No, no.
Not me.

But then, the cashier doesn't listen to me,
and she scans an item that I don't want scanned,
and it messes everything up,
and I have to walk her,
step by humiliating step
through the undoing of it
as the line grows behind me.

And it's not exactly rocket science,
but at every turn, she decides to try something else,
rather than just deleting the item
and letting me purchase it separately...
and she is SO DARN NICE
{and thank heaven for that}
but this is absolutely killing me!!!!!!!

What did I spend? $60
What was my savings? $28.
Hardly impressive when compared to the
"10 cents for 2 entire shopping carts full of goodies"
that my couponing goddess of a mentor paid,
but I am undeterred.

On to Rite Aid, where I am certain that my next
SUPER FREE-ISH purchases will make up for the disaster
that was Smith's Marketplace.

I pull into their parking lot,
and perfectly organize my coupons.

I put them in order,
make a game plan,
rehearse how I will walk the clerk through the purchase,
walk into Rite Aid,
make my way to the baby lotion aisle,
make eye contact with the super-smirky manager
{who has a pretty solid reputation of being nasty to couponers}
as I pass,
and find that ALL of the items I came to get
are already completely cleaned out.

Wow.

So I take allllll of those glorious coupons that are supposed to be
"free money"
but are now technically worthless,
and drive {20 freaking minutes!!!! UGH!} home.

Methinks that I may have SERIOUSLY been onto something when I decided that I had no interest WHATSOEVER in couponing.

Last night, I couldn't even sleep for the lamenting of the "free baby lotion loss" that had been suffered so acutely earlier that day...

Unfortunately, my obsessive desire to get a year's supply of food storage, coupled with our limited financial resources may mean that I'm actually insane enough to give this whole hot mess another go round. Hide and watch, dear friends.

{Oh, the humanity.}

Fun {and delicious} project to do with the kiddos!

2011-02-27T20:39:00.000-08:00

Simply go here

There's a new top dog in town...

2011-02-23T07:28:00.000-08:00

{waiting for cheerios}

President's {Wii-marathon} Day

2011-02-21T21:02:00.000-08:00

I will not play at tug o' war.

I'd rather play at hug o' war,

Where everyone hugs

Instead of tugs,

Where everyone giggles

And rolls on the rug,

Where everyone kisses,

And everyone grins,

And everyone cuddles,

And everyone wins.

~Shel Silverstein

Happy President's {Wii-marathon} Day!

What I learned at Monte Gee's Funeral

2011-02-20T19:45:00.000-08:00

My friends' father recently passed away.
He was also my neighbor for roughly 10 years.
I attended the funeral a week ago today.

It was incredible.
It was also clear that Monte Gee touched many, MANY lives.
It was even more clear that he was an incredible father.
How do I know?
Well, because his kids are amazing, for starters.
They don't usually get that way all on their own.
{Well, their mother is a class act too, so, they sort of didn't stand a chance of being anything short of completely awesome...}

The talks were inspiring.
The music was beautiful.
I know this is sort of coming off like a five-star-rated review
of someone else's funeral...
and that that is sort of bizarre and all...
however,
I am just putting pen to paper {so to speak}
in hopes of processing a lot of thoughts & feelings.
Thoughts which have left my mind reeling...
and feelings that I hope will linger with me
for many years to come.

Here is what I learned at Monte Gee's funeral:

When it comes to your kids:

your time='s love
your undivided attention ='s love
your kind words ='s love
listening ='s love
going to your kid's baseball game ='s love
taking your kids hiking/camping/hunting/4-wheeling ='s love

Encouraging your kids to serve others ='s they will be thoughtful people when they grow up.

Loving your kids in a such a deep and abiding way that they cannot mentally or emotionally comprehend it ='s they will be equipped to love their children in the very same way. It creates a pattern, or cycle, and with so many "bad" or "abusive" cycles perpetuating themselves in the world today, this is a refreshingly good one.

When it comes to your spouse:

Loving and respecting your spouse ='s a happy spouse who loves and respects you.
Loving and respecting your spouse ='s happy children who feel secure.
Loving and respecting your spouse ='s children who will grow up knowing how to love and respect their spouses...which ='s their children growing up and knowing how to love and respect their spouses...and so it goes. Another lovely, self-perpetuating cycle that pays huge dividends for your posterity {and the world at large} for generations to come.

Loving and respecting your wife ='s she will feel wonderful about herself, take good care of herself, take good care of her {a.k.a. your} children, and will probably look like Jackie O at your funeral... okay, maybe that last part only applies to Monte's wife...but still, it's worth a shot, right?

When it comes to your grandchildren:

Taking time to adore and love your grandchildren ='s they will feel and remember that love.
Taking time to adore and love your grandchildren ='s your kids will interpret your love for their kids as your love for them.
Taking time to adore and love your grandchildren ='s you will be wisely relishing and reaping your rewards for all those times when you wanted to kill your kids, but didn't.

When it comes to being a good neighbor, and/or citizen of planet earth:

Stopping on a dark canyon highway and having your high-school-age kids and their friends clear boulders from the road after a rock slide because even though you were lucky enough to "miss them" you would sure "hate to have someone else catch them." ='s you are pretty much just a great person...and there is a good chance that that goodness will rub off on your kids, and they will do good things too.

There is also a good chance that one of your kids will mention that story at your funeral, and people will totally bawl because they will be so touched by the fact that so much goodness could reside in just one person, and they will have a desire to carry on your legacy now that you are gone. {Now, while that's certainly not why you do such good things in the first place, it's nice for others to have a reminder and good example to look up to and strive for.}

So, yeah.
I walked away with a grocery list of Monte's characteristics that I would like to better emulate.

I also walked away feeling grateful for the knowledge that Monte will be with his family again someday.

There is no greater gift {or comfort} than this.

valentine's day

2011-02-14T19:38:00.000-08:00

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 14TH
To Do:
1. Attend funeral in Ferron {it was incredible, and VERY successfully honored a WONDERFUL husband and father. wow... more on this in a later post.}
2. Go home to the cabin and help mom put away Christmas. {Okay, hold a fussy baby and WATCH mom put Christmas away all by her lone and wish that you could be of more assistance.} And yes, I said CHRISTMAS. We don't get down to the cabin very often!
3. Put fussy baby down for a nap.
4. Go eat a chicken taco at the Grub box with Drew, Rachelle, and Kirk and Kathy Perkins. {Ahhhhh.... that's better.}
5. Get a phone call from the hubs where he tells you that you both forgot to send Kort's valentines to school with him today.
6. Feel sick, and worry that he will be scarred for life and always remember that horribly humiliating V-day in second grade when he was the ONLY kid in class who didn't get to pass out valentines.
7. Sigh with relief when the hubs informs you that he simply said "It's okay, you can bring them or not... Look at all the stuff I got!" Shoves candy in mouth. {crisis averted.}
8. Pack in a rush so you can get through the canyon before dark.
9. Set your cell phone on the bed while you nurse Tentens and say to yourself "Do NOT forget your phone...Do NOT forget your phone... Do NOT forget your phone...Do NOT forget your phone..."
10. Forget it anyway.
11. And don't bother to remember until you are passing through Price {45 minutes later}
12. You are awesome.
13. So awesome.
14. Get an Almond Joy at Maverick.
15. Mmmm and Aw and say "Man, I SO made the right candy bar choice." {Repeat 5 times, subsequently annoying everyone who has the misfortune of being in the car with you.}
16. Hand toys to a fussy {teething...poor guy} baby and have him growl like a gremlin, throw them back at you, and resume fussing. {Repeat for 2 hours straight.}
17. Get home {finally}.
18. Give the hubs his "Valentimes" present. {p.s. we are NOT, I repeat n.o.t V-day people...the giving of this gift on this, the day of love and stuffed bears, and chocolate was purely coincidental}.
19. Feel proud of yourself because not many people give their hubs-es a TRUCK for V-day, but you totally did.
20. Yep.
21. Question: Who has two thumbs and brought her hubs a new {to us} truck for "Valentimes" Day?
22. This girl right here. {Points to self with two thumbs}
23. Say thanks to your dad for giving you his old truck.
24. Thanks dad!
25. Pile the family into the new {to us} truck.
26. Drop the fussy baby off to Nama and Grandpa Jim cause he does not want to go anywhere else in a motor vehichle today!!!
27. Take Kort on a Valentimes Day date to Wendy's and get him a kid's meal and frosty.
28. Sit in Wendy's for a while and jam out to random music and talk with the hubs about what a romantic V-day it is.
29. {and seriously, it was romantic...you wanna know why?}
30. Because I am married to a man that makes me so happy, that a trip to Wendy's in a beat up pick up truck is pure bliss. And just as good as anything else. With him by my side everything is beautiful.
31. No need to suss it up.
32. He doesn't have to prove a dang thing...
33. Or meet a certain set of V-day expectations.
34. He's exceeded even my wildest dreams just by existing...
35. and by being willing to swear his life to me, as I have sworn my life to him.
36. He also gave me the most wonderful pair of offspring on the planet of earth.
37. And really, there's no topping that, so why even try, right?
38. Right.

Happy Valentimes Day, dear ones.
All my love,
Lola