Saturday, August 20, 2005

Five MiliSeconds of Fame

Here is the screenshot that LG took from The Work and the Glory: American Zion trailer. As you can see, we were there as extras in the Kirtland Temple Dedication scene. It was a grueling day of wearing 18th century costumes in a 100 degree warehouse, and look we got the back of our heads in the film! WOO HOO!

Our movie star

Emily (Jessica in the Work and the Glory) sent us this screenshot (I hope it isn't copyrighted). HOW CUTE IS OUR CHILD? We should have ten more kids. I cannot wait for the movie to come out!

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Free Kitchen

My mother-in-law called this afternoon and told me that I just had to enter into the Lowe's and The Early Shows' "I Want a Kitchen Makeover Contest". She feels sorry for me and my kitchen. She called and expressed her faith in me being able to write something that would convince the contest people that I need that kitchen more than anyone else!

[Sidenote: Faye(my mother-in-law) is redoing her kitchen right now and was tempted to enter for herself, but says that I need it more than she does. She just knows that I will have such a good chance of actually winning]

Well, I think these types of contests are totally rigged (like the show's producers sat around trying to figure out how they could get their mother a new kitchen without having to pay for it)! But, because Faye was so insistent I went ahead and sent the above picture with the following poem.

Keep in mind, I was only allowed a 50 word essay to express why I deserve a kitchen.
Pyrex exploded, ruined my floor.
Two year old paint, coats, need 3 more.
Husband in law school and 3 small kids.
No dishwasher, enough said!
Light and fan broken.
Now we use floor lamp, no jokin’.
I love to cook, even entertain.
But, my kitchen is driving me insane.
Don't you think I should win this contest? Who else can come up with something more sorry?

Friday, August 12, 2005


Ever since my in-laws turned into health and exercise nuts a few years ago, they began worrying about their progeny's health also(or lack of it). We don't much appreciate eating all of their low-fat and sugar free foods but we truly do wish that we could have their self denial skills. Well, besides trying to help us be in better shape, they also wanted to help us with our high stress lives. As portrayed in my last entry, Self checkout, they are pretty high most of the time. So, for LG's 30th Birthday, they gave us a wonderful gift. Most people that I tell about it don't think it was a wonderful gift, but LG and I are ecstatic about it. We are now the proud owners of a treadmill.

Why is it that just owning a piece of exercise equipment makes you feel sexier, younger, and totally yuppy-ish!? Man, if I would have known what just owning a treadmill could do for my mental and emotional state, LG would have surely invested a long time ago. Well, surprise, surprise, we have both been actually using the thing. We really do like to exercise; we have just never figured out how to fit it in when we have so many school, family, church, and work responsibilities. Now, we can do it at night while we are winding far, so good. So, yes, we will be placing before and after pictures up by this time next year....just kidding.

Well, this entry may not be that funny, but I just wanted to tell you what I thought the other night. It was the night of Self checkout and so I wasn't exercising in case I may have had a concussion. I had the priviledge of watching LeGrand do his routine instead. Now, I have to put a disclaimer in here: I do think that my husband is sexy, but under society's definition of sexy, you probably won't find his description. You have to know that he is 6' tall and 270 lbs. We laughed so hard because he was worried about using the treadmill; it has a 250 lb. weight limit.

Well, LG can be as big as he wants and I will always think that he is sexy. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but as I watched him huff and puff on that treadmill the other night something magical happened. I blurted out, "LG just watching you on that treadmill makes you look 25 pounds lighter." He started laughing so hard that he almost had to step off. I guess he wasn't feeling too sexy! But, I tell you what, really, there is something to owning a treadmill. Go and get one and when you step on it (whether or not you have it turned on) you will feel sexier too. I swear.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Self Check OUT

I have searched high and low on the internet for a picture of self check-out in action. This picture was with an article found here.

I wanted a point of reference as I tell you one of my most HILARIOUS embarassing life experiences. This is a good one, I promise, you want to keep reading.

O.k., much has been said about self-check out. Everyone has their own opinion about whether or not self check out is a good thing for society. My opinion of self checkout should have changed after my experience yesterday, but I have to admit that I will still be a frequent user of self check-out. I LOVE it.

I am addicted to self check-out. In fact, I HATE it when the workers who oversee the self checkout kiosks try to get too involved with my check out process. There is this one elderly employee at Wal-Mart that will stand by my side the whole time giving me tips, telling me how to unload my shopping cart, and what the codes are on the produce, and so forth. I want to shout at her, "Would you let me be? I am in the self checkout because I don't want to deal with people like you!" I guess she just doesn't understand that I am completely capable of scanning bar codes and swiping my own debit card. What she really doesn't get is the sheer joy I feel when "pretending" that I am the cashier(a job I always wanted to have as a child). "AND I REALLY WANT TO DO IT BY MYSELF...o.k. grandma!"

Well, there is my take on self checkout. Now let me tell you of my experience at Wal-Mart yesterday. [Don't you think I should start to tally how many times I write about Wal-Mart.] I guess it is a funny place. Let me tell you what, you would have been laughing hysterically if you were anywhere near me at Wal-Mart yesterday. I literally CHECKED MYSELF OUT!

Well, a friend offered to take my children for me so that I could do some heavy duty shopping. Bless her heart, there is NOTHING more painful than doing heavy duty shopping with three children under 6, unless you want to add more children to the scenario. I was in a HUGE hurry. Abigail started first grade today, and yesterday from 3-4 p.m. was the "meet the teacher" day. I dropped the kids off at one and vowed to be back by two; this would give me just enough time to get the groceries home, clean Abigail up, and drop Phia and Bella off at the other babysitter. I knew I would have to hurry. One hour is just not enough time to do heavy duty "I have nothing in the house" shopping.

So, of course, I found the time to be 2:05 and I hadn't even had a chance to navigate through the frozen food aisles. I made a mental note to do the frozen stuff later and hurried my way to the self-checkout, knowing that I had to make it real fast if I was going to get to the school by 3. O.k., so here is the crazy part:

I was unloading one shopping cart, checking items out, and loading them all into an empty shopping cart on the other side. I was crusing! I got my six gallons of milk scanned and set in the bottom portion of shopping cart #2. I then, proceeded on to my 12 pack of diet caffeine free dr. pepper. As I came back up (still, in a rushed mode, remember) I went to quickly grab the next item from my original shopping cart. Except my aim was WAY off. I slammed the top front part of my head against the corner of the scanning device. I heard a loud POP sound, and couldn't believe that I had slammed my head that hard in front of all those people. How embarassing. Little did I know that the slamming noise was the least of my worries.

I stood upright and brought my hand to my head, just hoping that I wouldn't find blood. I am unsure of what happened first, me feeling blood trickle down my face, or looking at my hand full of blood. I got dizzy and sat down on the "bagging" section of the self checkout. Thankfully there were no groceries there, leaving me a perfect little recovery bench. I am also thankful that the weighing device didn't shout out "weight not found" or "get off the scale". I sat there, put my head down, and held pressure on my bleeding head. How mortifying! There was blood all over my hair and face, the floor, my hand, and arm.

An older Tennessee native (who was missing most of her teeth) was walking by with her grandchildren right as all of this conspired. Normally, she would not be the kind of person that I might associate with, but yesterday before she left, I gave her a huge hug and told her, "Thank the Lord for Mothers!" She stepped right into action, grabbed a travel size kleenex off of the shelf and started handing them over. At one point she held them on my head for me. What a woman. She didn't know me or my blood history at all. In fact during the confusion I did promise her that my blood was clean. I probably stressed her out, as I am the kind of paranoid person that worries about blood diseases and so forth and she probably hadn't even thought of it.

Finally, the Wal-Mart workers became aware of what was going on. The first one on the scene questioned my new older friend, "What happened?" I shouted out, "She beat me up!" You gotta make light of the situation, right? How else does a person survive such an embarassment? Everyone had a good laugh and more and more Wal-Mart workers came out of the woodwork. (Why is that when you need a worker you can never find one? And, if you ever need customer service, you have to stand in a line for at least 15 minutes?.......Because ALL Wal-Mart workers feel the need to respond to a little emergency like a lady bleeding all over their floor in self checkout) One of the workers commented to the other, "She is bleeding like a stuck pig." I don't know if she was looking at the scale that I was sitting on or if she was trying to make any reference to my weight, but golly, do you think that was what I needed to hear at this horrific moment? Like everyone couldn't see the blood for themselves!

So, I started to regain consciousness, and threw out a request to my Wal-Mart fan club...."Can someone please get the Wipees from my purse?" (a good mom always has the wipees within arms reach) I started wiping off my head and hands and at this moment, the nicest worker, who happened to look a little like my husband, said, "Oh, here, sweetie, let me clean up your eyes." I closed them so that he could take care of me, unlike the rest of the staff who just stood around staring in awe. Someone did bring me some ice which was really nice. Then, the short little manager (you know he is a manager because he wears a red vest) asked me if he could take a statement. The nice guy that looked like my husband proceeded to check out the rest of my cart (or buggy as they call it here in TN). I stood up and proclaimed to the crowd of 8 that I would not sue Wal-Mart. It was totally my own clumsy fault. The short man said it was protocol to have me sign something.

I said, "Can you make it quick? I have to go and meet my daughter's teacher right now." This brought a roar of laughter. I guess I looked pretty awful and holding that bag of ice on my head didn't help the situation. I then got a stroke of genius. I said to the crowd, "Come to think of it, maybe I could get Wal-Mart to pay my husband's way through LAW school." Everyone laughed and the short serious manager replied with a worried tone, "Your husband isn't really in law school, is he?" I loved to get his goat and said, "Yes he is, and maybe I should call him before I sign anything." He tried to play it off like he wasn't worried, but what he was probably thinking about was the little sign that they keep in the break room that will now proclaim 0 days since an accident on the sales floor. I laughed and told him I was kidding, and reasurred him that I wasn't going to sue. He informed me that I had only 24 hours to let Wal-Mart know if I was in need of anything.

I then tried to awkwardly push my VERY heavy shopping cart out of the store while holding a bag of ice on my head. I smiled to myself because I was on my way, and maybe would even make it to meet the teacher on time. And, I had to laugh at myself. How many people on the internet have a self checkout story that even compares to mine? I survived checking MYSELF out at Wal-Mart. (and I am not talking about in the dressing room mirror) I can never show my face there again, but hey, I survived.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Sleeping arrangements

This is a photo from a room at The Gettysburg's Battlefield Bed and Breakfast Doesn't that sound like a fun place to go?
Well, the only vacation we will be taking any time soon is to Panama City, FL to see my new little nephew. My father-in-law booked all of us hotel rooms at a Days Inn down there. My mother-in-law informed me that he booked us a room with two double beds instead of the King. He was thinking of the kids of course, but either way they will end up on the floor because LG and I really cannot sleep in a double bed together. Anyone else out there understand that notion? Why do hotels even THINK about putting in double beds? We are in America in the 21st Century. People are fatter. We need bigger plane seats and bigger beds, not only at home, but at hotels too. Man, I cannot wait to have a Master Bedroom big enough someday, so that I can finally own a California King.
Well, the reason for the picture above is to take us on a trip back to the days when couples really and actually slept in seperate beds. Some nights I would be the first to agree that this wasn't such a bad idea. Well, yesterday in church, I had reason to believe that some parents out there teach their children that this is the only way to be chaste.
As you know, I teach the kids music. I taught a song about The Holy Ghost. I started with an object lesson, comparing my daughter's favorite well-used blanket as a COMFORTER and the Holy Ghost also as a COMFORTER. I asked the kids that like to sleep with a blanket to raise their hands. Of course the children started spitting out what they like to cuddle up to. After listening to their responses I asked them,"Do you know what Sister Gold likes to sleep with at night?" After no answers and all eyes on me, I replied, "Brother Gold." Well, all of the teachers rolled laughing, and some of the kids chuckled. I can be so INAPPROPRIATE!
Well, the best response came from little Rebecca. "Sister Gold, that's pornography!"
Could you just die laughing? I told her it wasn't pornography and questioned whether her mom and dad slept in the same bed. She said, "Yes." and after breathing a sigh of relief, I quickly changed the subject.
Moral of the story: If you sleep in the same bed as your spouse, you have no morals!

See the light

At church today, during the kids' learning time, one of the leaders pulled out an object lesson. She had drawn a picture of a lightbulb and showed it to the 25 children, ranging in ages from 3-8, as she explained that she meant to bring a real lightbulb but forgot it in her rush out the door.

So, she posts the lightbulb and throws out a question to the kids: "If this were a real lightbulb what would it need to light up?" The first child pulls out the obvious answer from a child....a lightswitch.

My daughter Abigail raised her hand and eagerly awaited her turn to be called on. She was called on second. Now, remember, she is 6 years old. She says as matter of factly as possible,"Electricity!" Where does this child come from? I called her "little smartie pants" in front of all the other kids. I think I kind of embarassed her a little. But, golly, what am I going to do? The kid almost knows more than me already. I am doing way too good of a job teaching her. (Just kidding) I really do give all credit to her Father's genes and the time that she spends with her Papa asking question after question....bringing me to my favorite quote.

"All knowledge begins with wonder." - Noah Webster

So, go find out something new today.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

My Children's Book

Here is the cover of a book that I envisioned a few years back. Abigail helped me draw some crude pictures and we put prototypes together for my parents & in-laws for Christmas '03.

I think it is a great book with an even more important message. I won't give it away here.
[Wouldn't want to ruin my chances at a copyright.]
I will give you the first line: "You can be a student, if you learn to try."

I guess after my last entry, Yoda,this is, you can see that I am hypocritical in my book. Trying isn't enough. We have to do! That is where we all fall short. I admire people who don't just try, but do. I am a doer. It is really hard for "doers" to understand "tryers".

I came across a great illustration of someone who DID in spite of critics.

"The concept is interesting and well-formed, but in order to earn better than a ‘C’, the idea must be feasible."
- A Yale University management professor, in response to student Fred Smith’s paper proposing reliable overnight delivery service (Smith went on to found Federal Express)

Yoda, this is

Do, or do not. There is no ‘try’.
- Yoda,
The Empire Strikes Back

Thanks to my geek of a husband my daughter Abigail has a thing about StarWars. She just loves it! Her Grammy took her to a bookstore two days ago and she HAD to have the StarWars book.
I don't really have anything funny to write about StarWars. I really like this quote by Yoda. I hate the delivery that Yoda delivers. (I guess he never had an English class on not ending sentences with prepositions.)
Good story about prepositions:
On the subject of ending sentences with prepositions, people often recount a story involving Winston Churchill. When an editor dared to change a sentence of Churchill's that appeared to end inappropriately with a preposition, Churchill responded by writing to the editor, "This is the kind of impertinence up with which I shall not put." His purpose, of course, was to illustrate the awkwardness that can result from rigid adherence to the notion that prepositions at the end of sentences are always incorrect.
When we went to see the final StarWars I laughed out loud at the pivotal Darth Vader really have to be a StarWars geek to appreciate the cheese. My husband was mortified as to how freely I "ruined" the movie for everyone. Oops.
Anyhow, Yoda may have bad delivery, but just like an old wise Grandma, no matter how hard it is to pay attention at times, you HAVE to listen to what he has to say. He has profound teachings. He is my favorite part of StarWars. I had a spiritual experience at the last movie as Yoda counseled Anikan.

Friday, August 05, 2005

100% Cotton

The touch, the feel: of cotton!
Alright! My last entry, Farts and poops, leads me straight into this one. As you can read, a woman commented that she started her daughter in pull-ups at 17 months, to avoid the plumber's bum thing. I replied with my philosophy on pull-ups. In a nut shell: THEY ARE A RIP OFF! See the comment if you want to read the numbers involved.

So, I got philsophizing(isn't that a cool word, I made it up) about diaper duty. I can remember having to take my little brother's diapers to the toilet to rinse out the poop. What awful memories. When I potty train, I get to relive the grosser than gross ritual of rubbing cloth together to disengage sticky poop from cotton. YUCK!

I just read one mother's account about Cloth diapers on the internet. All I can say is I can't disagree with this mother any more passionately. Yes, disposable diapers do fill land fills and they cost a pretty penny ($50/month x 3 years x 3 kids = $5400, not including wipes or diaper medicine or powder)but disposable diapers are worth every penny. That is why the art of cloth diapers is OUT and Kimberly Clark is IN!

Did you know that you can buy diaper coupons on e-bay?

Take it from a mom that knows though....Luvs are the best. You don't need coupons because they run about $5 cheaper than Huggies or Pampers. And, Luvs are way more absorbant. Wow, I should be paid for my shameless plug.

Well, no matter what kind of disposable enviroment hating diaper you use, it's ok. Even generic brand are better than cloth. Thank goodness for the diaper baby boom of the 70's. I should praise the name of the diaper inventor,Marion Donovan, daily! Here was a mother with a head on her shoulders. Did you know her son, James Donovan, M.D, grew up to be a urologist. How funny!

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Farts and Poops

This is Bella's bum trying to fit into her diaper. I love it when the kids have plumber's bum. So cute! Great shot, huh? I hope it's not considered "inappropriate".

Well, Bella has taken on a very endearing ritual. I first need to fill you in on my thoughts about the word "fart". I thought it would be fun to share, even though my mother will be devastated that I am using the word "fart" so freely. I guess I am not a lady at all because I have never had a problem with the word fart. I mean why do people think the word is so bad? Fart, toot, pass gas, flatulate...they all mean the same action.....air being passed from a not so nice smelling part of the body. Everybody does it. Well, as you read on you will see that I am passing on the non-lady like use of the word "fart" to my three poor daughters. LG and I think it is funny when they say it.

We laughed SO hard the time Sophia announced to a crowded restaraunt that she had farted. Well, in the past two months, Bella, our little clown, has figured out that when she says the word fart it makes people laugh. So, whenever I ask her if she needs to be changed, I say, "Bella, are you poopy; do you have poops; do you need your diaper changed?", she replies ever so slyly with, "No, I just farted." At two, she is showing huge potential for being a funny adult, don't you think?

I was staying at my in-laws for the last couple of days. My father-in-law, was very kind and offered to watch the girls while I went to a girls' dinner with my mother-in-law and some extended family. I explained that I had left a diaper and wipes in the bathroom for Bella in case he needed it. Now, I know how he feels about poopy diapers. He wasn't even fond of changing his own kids. So, I told him, "If she does poop, if you don't want to deal with it, if you can stand the smell, just leave it, she'll be o.k. until I get back."

On the way to dinner I confided my concern for my father-in-law and the diaper situation to my mother-in-law. She just cracked me up and said, "Oh, he'll be fine. You should have told him that you were just giving him an opportunity to pay you back for his diapers that you are going to have to change someday."

Well, he did have to change a poopy diaper a half an hour after we left. I voiced my appreciation from the hallway as I was leaving to come home last night. I also mentioned that he had given me a good reason to have to change his diapers someday. I wasn't too surprised when no laughter came from the office. I am sure he was horrified at the thought. I quickly p.s.'ed with the declaration that Faye had told me to tell him that. Still no response. What do you do? Again, I am left to wonder if my father-in-law will continue to accept me. So, in explanation: Duane, it was just a joke. If someone needs to change your diapers when you get old, I promise, it won't be me. That is what Amy is for.

Monday, August 01, 2005

Little Jack Horner

Introducing "The Young Jack Roberts"

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner
Eating his Christmas pie,
He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum
And said "What a good boy am I!"

This ryhme has a great history, that includes Horner, a thief, being rewarded greatly. Horner was obviouslly rewarded unworthily, inspiring the political rhyme and Horner's own political taunting, "what a good boy am I."

What do Little Jack Horner and Little Jack Roberts have in common you may ask? Both the theif Horner and the misbehaved Roberts think that they are "good boys" when in actuality they are far from it. And of course they also share the name Little Jack.

The young Jack Roberts lives in another dimension, just like ALL other children. This was demonstrated wonderfully during the President's press conference, announcing the nomination of his father, John Roberts, as a candidate for the Supreme Court bench. Click here and scroll down the page to the bottom left hand column and click on "Young Jack Roberts steals the show" to see the video clip. SO FUNNY!

Now, I am not about to rip on Jack Robert's parents or nanny or whoever raises the kid. My kids have done far worse than this to embarass me (O.k., maybe not they have never shared air time with the President of the United States and turned it into a circus), but if you are a parent, you will know what I mean about being embarassed. Kids can be outright humiliating, no matter how good of job you are doing.

I will say this; I would not even attempt to put my four year old in front of cameras in such a stuffy setting that late at night. I can only think that the reason Mrs. Roberts was talked into it was for "political gain". She had to know that she was setting herself for a disaster. According to critics, Jack's misbeavior really will make people "sympathize" with Roberts. The "people in the know" have said so much in the positive towards the child's bantering that you would think that they put Little Jack up to his misconduct.

So, what am I trying to say here? I don't know. I am just rambling today. I had a rough day yesterday. Remember the linger longer that I attempted yesterday, at the urging of my husband. Yeah, well, I couldn't do it! I left 15 minutes into it when he never showed up to help me with my three children who live in another dimension! He was in taking care of his church duties and I was left trying to figure out how to fight my way through a Disneyland style line to gather three plates of food without either dragging my three young children with me or leaving them unattended. Well, I never came up with an answer and I left all upset feeling like a loser because I cannot emotionally handle a stupid potluck.

An announcement was made to let people with small children and the elderly get in line first, but I guess the majority of people in our congregation feel they fit into those two categories. (Or, their manners go out the window because after years of conditioning that the only way to get any food is to get at the front of the line, so, they don't regard other people) I'm not even mentioning how I felt about being forced to leave my jellyroll pan of brownies, two loaves of french bread, and two large fruit salads behind that I had worked on for two hours the day before, ONLY to go home to eat ramen and toast.

Hey, I have an idea. Maybe it isn't the children who live in another dimension. Maybe it is all the rest of the world that doesn't understand that children are wild animals in the process of being tamed? Would you leave three starving and wild tigers in a room full of frantic starving people to fend for themselves while you stood around waiting patiently to get them some substance? NO! I guess I spend enough time with the wild tigers to understand them. I guess I also understand, me, their trainer, enough to know that I can't even attempt to do certain things with them....such as, a late night press conference, or a linger longer full of inconsiderate people. In fact, if I had it my way, I would tap into their dimmension's got to be a lot less stressful.