2011 - A Year in Review

 

Okay, here is is....  The 2011 Recap of this crazy family - as told by our (mine and Kurt's) Facebook status updates.  
 
(Please don't judge....)



JANUARY
I’m watching a fight take place between Kurt and the Blue-Ray player.  The issue is over the volume.  The bass just got so loud that the windows are about to shatter.  Kurt just threw down and said he would have to ((gulp)) read.the.manual.  Blue-Ray player: 1; Kurt: 0.
 
Today’s word of encouragement:  No matter how much you love and care for an animal, given the opportunity, it would eat you.
 
Want to give a shout out to the uber-creepy guy in the parking garage (the DARK and ABANDONED parking garage) who thought it would be helpful to RUN DIRECTLY AT ME to let me know that the dome light in my car was still on (you know, the kind that shuts off automatically).  Thank you also for not taking it personally when my “gratitude” included the phrase “stinkin’ idiot.”
 
FEBRUARY
Hope’s friend Mia is spending the night.  Jack just proposed to her.
 
Hope and I were driving home from church.  Kurt and Jack pull up beside us at a stop light.  Kurt gives me the “I’m so awesome” look.  The light turns green and we drive away.  Hope asks what the look was about and I told her that Daddy was trying to be cool.  Hope said, “Oh yeah.  Nothing is cooler than a man driving a mini-van with a little boy in the backseat watching a princess movie.  That’s realllly cool.”
 
Jack has named his brain Kevin.  Kevin comes and goes as he pleases.
 
MARCH
"Daddy, are pigs made out of bacon?”
 
Kurt and Hope are playing chess.  Jack and I wanted to participate so I told Hope to move one of her little prawns and Jack keeps shouting “King me!”  We’ve now been vanquished to Jack’s room to play bingo.  Apparently the chess-playing smarty-pants need it quiet.  Sigh…. Intellectuals.
 
The kids are getting older.  Hope takes 25 minute long showers and Jack has announced that he’s changing his name to Sonic.
 
APRIL
Signing off as an RGI/TDC employee for the last time… It’s been quite a ride.  12 years… As of Monday, it’s all Digital Felt Productions – woot-woot!
 
Hope got the part she wanted in her little school play.  Very excited for her!
 
Good Friday… a time to be thankful.  ♥
 
MAY
My little man Jack is 5 years old today!  ♥
 
Jack and I had a really long talk tonight.  Seriously, I think we talked for over an hour (which is an ETERNITY for a 5 year old).  I feel like we really made some progress – really broke through some barriers – really go the heart of some issues – and made a connection.  Of course the conversation would have been much more meaningful to me if I gave a rip about Super Mario Brothers…
 
So thankful for great times with great friends…

JUNE
The junk drawers in my kitchen won’t close anymore.  I think it’s time to escalate to a junk cupboard.
 
So Hope (who is 9) and I are having a talk. ME: Hope, you can’t date till you’re… HOPE: I know, till I’m 45.  ME: You know I’m just kidding when I say that, right?  HOPE: Yea.  ME: We’ll probably let you double date when you’re 15. You know what that is?  HOPE: Is that with two guys?!
 
It’s really hard to ignore the kids when they keep repeating themselves.

JULY
I ♥ UGSFAW
 
So I’m playing the board game LIFE with Jack and he starts warning me about the importance of buying car insurance because (and I quote) “you never know when some bozo is going to get in front of the wheel.”  In other news, I find myself getting a little bit weepy at the birth of all three of his LIFE babies.
 
Just for today, I choose to believe that there is some (however miniscule) nutritional value in Cocoa Puffs.
 
AUGUST
“Daddy, I don’t think Mom would appreciate you showing us how to do that.”
 
Just saw a lawyer commercial in which they were interviewing a client about his “fatal accident.”  I guess zombies need lawyers too.
 
Jack just saw a police car, but the words “police car” seemed to evade him, so he says, “Dad! Look at the… the… um…. th.. .th… the… jail taxi!”
 
SEPTEMBER
Hope told me this morning that since I refer to coffee as Joe, she is going to refer to milk as Kevin. (what is it with my kids and the name Kevin?)
 
Nutella:  Because “fudge sandwich” just sounds wrong.
 
Hope and Jack are barricaded in her secret lab (her room) putting the finishing touches on their dream teleportation device (a box covered with felt and scotch tape).  They are currently in a heated debate about laser beams and launch pads (apparently love for sci-fi is genetic).
 
OCTOBER
Happy 10^th birthday to my beautiful Hopey-Hope! ♥
 
It used to be that when Hope had a friend over they would play with dolls and kitchen sets.  Now they play with CD and players flip
Cameras so they can make their own music videos.  #timestheyareachangin’
 
If you say the word “gullible” slowly, it sounds like “oranges.”
 
NOVEMBER
Hope came home from school and told me she was DISAPPOINTED that PE was canceled. Who the heck does this kid belong to?!
 
Most of these protestors sound like they need to occupy a library.
 
ME: Kurt, Jack got in trouble at school – he got a color change. KURT: Man, that kid, what are gonna do wit-Well, wait – what did he do? ME: He was talking to a girl. KURT: ((silence))  ME: I SAID, he was talking to a girl. KURT: Was she cute?
 
DECEMBER
Fa la la la laaaa, la La.La.Laaaaaa!
 
ME:  Jack!  Time for bed!  JACK:  Pass….
 
Those little mirrors that they make so you can see what your baby is doing in the back seat of the car – never felt the need.  Now they are 10 and 5 and I’m getting one of those mirrors so that I can tell which kid I need to yell at.

Happy New Year to you!!

2010 in Review - as told by our Facebook Status Updates

Okay, so this is the Goble version of the “Annual Christmas Letter.”
These are the highlights of 2010, as told by our Facebook Status Updates.

(Please don’t judge…)

JANUARY
Coffee of the day is: Jet Fuel (by Coffee People). It’s delightful. And extremely... caffeinated. Seriously. I’m really... Awake. This is good because Jack woke me up at 5:45 this morning and said, “Momma, I’m getting older and my voice is changing so I need to be awake and playing toys, not asleep in my smooshy bed.” ((sigh)) Don’t ask. I have NO idea where he gets this stuff.

Having dinner without one of the kids gagging/barfing at the table would be fantastic. It’s the simple things…

To the lady I caught with her face and hands pressed against my living room window looking into my house this morning: please don’t tap on the glass. I find the noise unsettling. Oh, and just because a house is for sale doesn’t mean that you can stalk its residents. Oh, and wash your face. You left a big grease stain on my window.

FEBRUARY
My coffee is ready, the couch is available and facebook is on the computer. All ready to commence with a little “me” time when Jack walks up to me and says, “Momma, will you please hold me?” My coffee is now cold and untouched, the computer went into hibernation mode and the cat has taken over my space on the couch. But who cares?! I got 20 minutes of snuggles from my little man. Life is so, so good…

HOPE: What happens if somebody gets too many speeding tickets?
KURT: They could get their license taken away.
HOPE: How would they get home?
KURT: Well, the officer wouldn’t take it away right then and there. They would have to go to court at some point and then the judge would take their license away.
HOPE: Okay, well, how would they get home from court?

MARCH
Hope is making purple pancakes, Kurt is cleaning purple food coloring off the counter, Jack is running around screaming “Purrrrrrrrple!” and I am leaving these Flying Purple Pancake Eaters to go play some serious Bunco in my pajamas (sadly, they are not purple).

Let’s be honest… sometimes kids just smell kinda bad.

Jack’s take on why we celebrate Easter: “Momma, on Easter we cheer for Jesus because He came away from the deadness. ((pause)) And coming away from the deadness is a BIG deal.”

Kurt is gonna wear shorts to church. Pink ones. He loves California.

APRIL
Great day spent with Kurt, the kids and my awesome First Christian Church family. Best.Easter.Ever.

Jack told me that he would snuggle with me on the couch if we could watch SpongeBob. We are now watching a SpongeBob marathon.

Personal space people, PERSONAL SPACE!

Heidi feels stupid because she took her son to his friend’s birthday party… a day early.

MAY
How is it possible that Jack is turning 4 tomorrow?

Gourmet veggie pizza, puppet-show theater put on by the kids, crazy bedtime stories and lots of laughs with Hope. Tonight’s been a good, good night.

Hope and Jack watched me open my Mother’s Day gift. As I was holding the gift in my lap, Jack asked (with his eyes glued to the gift I had just opened), “Ummm, Momma? When is Brother’s Day?”

Why is it that the only time I run into people I know at the grocery store is when I’m wearing pajamas and no make-up? Stupid poetic justice...

Feeling so blessed. So thankful…

JUNE
Morning just isn’t morning without a little clothes drama.

Jack just told Heidi that she’s big and handsome. She finds this troubling…

Dear God: Please help this kid realize that if he stops trying to force his way and starts concerning himself with pleasing me, his life will be so much happier.
Dear Kurt: Ditto.

Kurt, Hope and Jack make everything better.

JULY
Earthquake – 5.9!

So I was just told that the World Cup is NOT a competition referring to the World’s Best Cup of Coffee. I won’t lie; I’m pretty shook up about this.

Toy Story 3. Perfection.

Jack shoved one of his little green army men into the vent/grille under our refrigerator and it got stuck. Still reeling from watching Toy Story 3, Kurt and I were ready to take the entire refrigerator apart to free that little green army man. Tears were nearly shed. Army Man is now running free with his band of brothers. No toy left behind, people. No toy left behind. Victory is ours…

AUGUST
Hope leaves for her first trip to camp tomorrow – how is that possible? A whole week away – she’s so excited! ((sniff, sniff))

16 years ago I married the absolute best man in the entire world. Happy Anniversary Kurt – I love you!

HOPE: Dad, when we get home from camp we won’t have much time to do laundry before we have to leave for vacation and all my clothes are going to smell like squirrel poop.

Heidi told Jack he could choose what they have for dinner. So they had jelly tacos.

SEPTEMBER
Heidi thought of her Mom a lot today. Said good-bye 8 years ago… Very thankful for the time they got to share…

One day we’ll have Heaven. Joy will prevail and everything that is wrong with this world will be made right. But for now we have Del Taco.

Went to a barbeque last night. While our friend Bob prayed for dinner, I hear Jack shout out “Why is everyone sleeping?!”

Heidi is baking the Minnesota way. Baking cookies in a 9x13 pan and calling them bars.

OCTOBER
KURT: Jack, will you hurry up and go?
JACK: I gotta go poop.
KURT: Well then go poop. But hurry up, it’s bedtime!
JACK: Well I need a magazine!

New tradition in the Goble household: Every Wednesday is Speak-with-a-British-Accent-Day. It’s fun, family friendly and it’s free! So Bligh Me! Pip-pip, Cheerio, God save the Queen and all that sort of thing…

Happy Birthday to my beautiful girl – she is 9 years old today!

Heidi is still sick and has no voice at all. She’s totally unable to talk. No words whatsoever. In other news, Kurt is walking around in the greatest mood ever. Could the two be connected? This cynic thinks so…

NOVEMBER
Heidi overheard Hope singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun at the top of her lungs while taking a bath. Her cup runneth over…

Kurt is thankful that his heart, lungs and liver are not in a bag that has been inserted in his rear end. (this is a reference to the Thanksgiving turkey – given how bizarre this status update is, I thought it warranted some contextualizing…)

Heidi is sitting on a bench in the shade at Disneyland, drinking coffee and people-watching while Kurt takes the kids on the Matterhorn. So nice…

We were at Disneyland yesterday and Jack heard the announcer say to “let your imagination soar!” Flash forward to this morning. He walks up to me with a big frown. I ask him what’s wrong and he says, “My imagination is sore.”

DECEMBER
After much research, I have come to the conclusion that caffeine truly is the nectar of Heaven. On a less exciting note, I have also found iron clad evidence that eating too many jelly bellies will in fact produce a jelly belly.

If crappy cooking were a super power, Heidi would rule the world.

Kids. Kurt. Christmas music. Christmas decorating. Cozy fire. Completely perfect.

Can’t wait to see what 2011 brings!
Hope you have a wonderful holiday season…
Merry Christmas!

What?! So Much for Healthy Choices. . .

I love dessert. It's my favorite food group.

Well, given my fondness for dessert and my, uh..... lack of fondness for exercise and moderation, I eat diet desserts to avoid the rip-cord effect on my waist line.

So, yay! Diet Desserts!! Such a great idea!

I've started eating them and have found that I really love them.

A lot.

But, I've discovered a problem with them.

Apparently, they're not really dietetic. I mean, I'm eating them (instead of brownies, bars and banana splits) but I'm not losing any weight.

I even checked the nutrition facts on the label. It said, very clearly, that there's only 140 calories per serving.

And the serving size is 1.

Right.

So I ate one box of ice cream sandwhiches and I gained like two pounds.

Sigh....

My Name is Heidi Goble and I.... am a Nerd.

Okay, I admit it.

I... am a total nerd.

And I'm totally okay with it. In fact - I embrace it.

Here are a few facts that support my claim:

I own every season of Star Trek: The Next Generation on DVD. I know them all by heart (I even know the title of each episode)

I LOVE anything science fiction or fantasy (Lord of the Rings, Vampires, Star Trek - it's all awesome).

My favorite birthday gift of all time (aside from sentimental family gifts, of course) is a complete set of blueprints to the The Starship Enterprise NCC-1701-D (Baker Family - I will forever love you for that).

I love to talk about inconsistencies in movies such as X-Men, Wolverine, The Matrix, etc.

My iPhone has both a Tricord app as well as a phaser app and I play with these apps on a regular basis.

I incorporate jargon from Star Trek The Next Generation into my everyday conversations. For example, I will use sci-fi speak to describe every day things. (an example might be - instead of saying "there's a crack in my windshield," I will say - "hull integrity is down to 72%" - or I will refer to a flashlight as a palm beacon - or... instead of "going poo" I will say "jettison the core").

Hmmm....

Perhaps I've said too much....

So go ahead.

Roll your eyes at me.

Shout out NerdAlert when I walk in the room.

I can take it.

But be careful...

Resistance is Futile.

You can Stop Auditioning Now. No One is Hiring Village Idiots Anymore.

What other people think of you is none of your business.

______________________________

I struggle so much with this statement - but it's totally true.

And seriously - isn't it just better to not know? I mean, what if the person thinks you're an idiot?
Why would you want to know that? Isn't life hard enough WITHOUT knowing that someone thinks you're an idiot?

And see the real problem is that knowing someone thinks you're an idiot is never enough.
Noooo.
We have to know WHY they think it. We have to know what we did that was so aggregious to make this person think we're an idiot.
And of course we're not going to ask them becuase it might make us feel even worse! So WE come up with the reason they think we're an idiot (without actually involving them in the conversation).

And THEN, as if that wasn't enough, we try to alter our personality/behavior to please this person who thinks we're an idiot (even though we're not really sure WHY they think we're an idiot) so that they won't think we're an idiot anymore.

And of course the real problem with THAT logic is, what if THEY'RE the idiot?
What if we're totally fine - and we change ourselves so that the idiot will like us when in reality THEY'RE the one who is totally jacked up?

We start acting just like the idiot so that the idiot won't think we're an idiot anymore, and then all our normal, non-idiot friends will dump us like radioative waste.

And WHY? Because we're being an idiot!

Sigh...

Seriously....

So do we really need to know what someone else thinks of us?

(whispered pathetically, with head lowered) YES.... Yes, unfortunately, I feel compelled to know - especially when I think the person doesn't like me.

But I'm working on it.

I realize that I'm probably the only person in the world who gets all worked up worrying about what people may or may not think of them.... do you think I'm crazy? You do, don't you?

Great! YOU think I'm crazy!

See how these things get started?

Sigh.....

Christmas Confession; Part V

I have never seen
It's a Wonderful Life.

Christmas Confession: Part IV

This one may cost me some of my friends....

I am surrounded by stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, non-fat friends, family and co-workers.

Seriously.

I feel chronically full-fat and unattractive around all these beautiful people.

Obviously the solution is quite simple: diet and exercise.

But, seeing as how I pride myself on my creativity and innovative thinking, I decided to take a new approach at dealing with my feelings regarding my appearance.

Instead of focusing on myself, I've begun focusing on everyone else (after all, it's not good to be so self-absorbed).

So how is focusing on everyone else going to improve my appearance?

It's simple.

Here's the gift I gave all my beautiful, gorgeous non-fat friends and co-workers.

I plan to continue with this type of gift-giving for the next several years.



P.S. If you're a friend of mine and you DIDN'T receive this gift from me, it's not because I think you're full-fat - it's because I ate yours.

Christmas Confession: Part III

I'd just woken up. It was early, cold and dark.

I staggered to the bathroom and stared blankly into the mirror.

Despite my crusty, sleep filled eyes, I saw it immediately.

Sticking straight up from the top of my head - all thick, curly and wiry.

My first gray hair.

Oh.The.Freakin'. Horror.

Sadly I didn't have time to have a proper meltdown - I had to get to church. (Although I will admit that I didn't feel like being social and praisin' Jesus at that particular time. Hey, I'm just being honest. I think God can handle it).

So I yank the offensive hair out of my head, say a few choice words and throw the dreadful thing in the trash.

Flash forward to Sunday night.

The kids were in bed.

Kurt was asleep on the couch.

I was finally alone.

The time for my meltdown had come.

There was only one drug that could soothe the depth of my despair:

Chocolate.

I needed it and I needed it right then and there.

Preferably in large quantities.

I scoured the house and couldn't find any.

I looked high and low. There was simply none to be found.

My mind was reeling - my desperation increasing with every passing second.

And then I saw it - sitting there on the piano, beckoning me. As soon as I laid eyes on it, I could hear the angels singing. It even had a special glow around it emanating from the Heavens as if the Lord was saying, "This is for you, my precious child."

It was...

The kids' Advent Calendar.

An Advent Calendar that was fully stocked with chocolates specifically selected to celebrate the birth of our Lord - which means they HAD to be stinkin' tasty. To taste bad would be a sin!

Yes - these chocolates had a Divine Purpose.

But tonight, they were going to serve a different divine purpose.

Evil Heidi and Heaven Bound Heidi immediately started duking it out.

Evil Heidi hissed in my ear "Heck yesssss those chocolatessssss are for you! You can give your kids Ssssssssmarties or something. These chocolates shouldn't be wasssssssted on children who can't possssssssssibly appreciate their beauty like you can."

Heaven Bound Heidi told me (in a voice that sounded like Mickey Mouse) "Think of the children!!! You can't eat Baby Jesus Chocolate that was created to teach children about God! He will smote you from above, for sure!"

But alas.... desperate times call for desperate measures.

The Evil of my first gray hair had to be rectified. And what better way to right the wrong than to treat it with the most holy of foods: Baby Jesus Chocolate!

I decided to take my chances - hoping that God would choose to spare me.

I ate every single piece of that Baby Jesus Chocolate.

And can I just say, that nothing soothes the soul of a troubled, gray haired old woman like Baby Jesus Chocolate stolen from a child's Advent Calendar.

Heck Yesssss.

Oh sure, there was guilt.

But there was also peace (after all, it was Baby Jesus Chocolate).

I've never felt so bad - and so holy at the same time.

Christmas Confession; Part II

This actually happened last Christmas, but I'm just now at a place where I can admit it.

I'm big on taking pictures of the kids and then sharing them with the world. I like to capture as much happy stuff on film as I can - and then refer back to it when Hope is screaming that Jack is looking at her funny and Jack is trying to pee his name on the bathroom floor.

You know.... a sanity saver. Proof that pleasant times have occurred.

So last Christmas, I'm home alone with the kids for the evening. I wanted to do something fun, something holidayish.

I wanted to make some memories.

Good memories.

The kind you take pictures of so that you can prove to the world (and to yourself) that you have a happy, fun-loving, holiday-filled family life.

So I decided to make Christmas cocoa (complete with whipped cream, peppermint syrup and sprinkles) and then brought out a little wooden Christmas Tree that we could decorate with these fancy, handmade little wooden ornaments (a family tradition passed down from my Grandma).

I get everything set: cocoa, tree, holiday music, camera.

Everything is ready.

We commence with the holiday festivities. They're sipping their cocoa, the holiday music is on, I have my camera poised and ready to begin documenting the loving, fun-filled holiday family time between my precious son and daughter.

It's going so well. The cocoa's not too hot, the music's not too loud, it's raining outside, the little wooden tree was easy to put together, the kids are getting along - it was a scene that would have compelled Norman Rockwell to paint a picture of our family.

As I always do when I'm in these situations, I begin mentally drafting my acceptance speech for my now-certain Mother of the Year Award.

And then it starts...

"Mom, Jack keeps trying to take my ornaments."

"No I don't - they're mine, Mom - Hope won't share!"

Not to be discouraged by this minor bickering (after all, I don't have any documented evidence that this magical night took place yet), I reply gently with, "That's enough guys... Let's have fun with this, okay?"

The decorating resumes and in an effort to keep them from talking to each other (or to me) I turn the Christmas music up just a few notches.

The bickering starts up again.

"Maaawm! Jack's breathing on me! Make him stop!"

"Hope, Jack will die if he stops breathing. It would probably be easier if you scoot over a little bit."

I grip my camera a little tighter - beads of sweat begin form on my upper lip. I HAVE to get these pictures. The world must know that my family is perfect, thay the love to be around each other and that the holidays at the Goble house are nothing short of magical.

Cue louder music.

I turn my back to set my camera to the non red-eye setting.

And then it happened. I'm not really sure who or what started it.

Hope is shouting, "Nooooooooooooo!" as her hot cocoa spills across the table.

Jack reaches for his ornaments in an effort to save them from the river of cocoa making it's way across the table at alarming speed.

He misses.

Instead of saving the ornaments, he drowns them in a new river of hot cocoa from his own cup while simultaneously knocking the tree and the box of the remaining ornaments all over the floor.

Hope starts yelling at Jack that he's making a mess, bends down to pick up the ornaments and smacks her head on the table.

She starts howling.

The Christmas music that was only moments ago providing us with our own lovely holiday soundtrack is now ironically blaring out that horrible song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year."

Jack is crying and shouting over and over again that he didn't do anything.

I stand there, my feet frozen to the floor, powerless to stop the chaos, unable to accept the fact that my dream of documenting a perfect holiday memory is now an impossibility.

All is lost...

All I could think was, "I don't have my pictures yet. These rotten little mongrels robbed me of my freakin' Christmas joy photos."

Where's the stinkin' joy???

I snap.

I grab both kids by the ear and yank them away from the table. I slam my hand on the counter and scream at the top of my lungs:

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY! CAN WE NOT HAVE JUST ONE! FREAKIN! GOOD! HOLIDAY! MOMENT!?"

The kids stare at me, their eyes the size of dinner plates.

They are gripped with fear.

They are completely silent.

The only noise in the room is that ridiculously stupid Christmas music, the dripping of sticky, pepperming cocoa creating a huge pool on my kitchen floor and my labored breathing.

But the kids are completely.... SILENT.

As in, they're no longer arguing, howling, screaming or crying.

See where I'm goin' with this?

I sieze what I know to be my only opporunity to salvage my dream, grab my camera and shout at them to say cheese and start snapping pictures.

I got my loving, happy faced family fun time picture!!

Of course, it's because the kids were paralyzed with fear, but you'd never know that from looking at the picture (as long as you're willing to overlook the sheer terror behind their eyes).

Now you know why I never post any videos of my family.

Sigh.... maybe this year will be better....

Addendum: I added the picture. There were several, but they're all pretty much the same (if you look closely, you'll see the terror behind there eyes - or at least a look that says, "Watch out for mom - she's got a camera and that crazed look again...).

P.S. I sincerely hope I am not alone in this sort of behavior... I'd like to think that there are other moms out there who are just as obsessive and neurotic as I am.

I Want to Help You, Help Me

This isn't news for those of you who know me, but I can't cook.

Seriously, I know NOTHING.

I need to learn.

I want to learn.

From all of you.

Yes that's right. I'm looking to the blogosphere for help.

Keeping in mind that I know nothing, please give me some guidance. I'm seeking some simple recipes for family dinner. Crock pot recipes would be great. ANY recipes would be great.

Can you help out a hapless, culinary challenged mother of two ridiculoulsly picky kids? See, that's one of my problems. My laziness with learning how to cook has forged a dependance on mcdonalds, corn dogs and mac and cheese. Trying to get them to eat anything else is a recipe for disaster (ironically the only recipe I have mastered).

I dream of the day that we can sit at the dinner table and eat some sort of a casserole without my kids sobbing and vomitting all over the table (they can barf at the drop of a hat).

You all have helped me with book choices, dealing with potty training and night terrors and now I come to you again asking for your boundless wisdom.

In return for your wisdom, I will share my experiences (trust me Im confident that the stories will abound); I will even include pictures of the more frightening cases.

Please.

I need your help.

I need your recipes!

Vacation Revelation, Part VII

I can read!

___________

Since I graduated college, I haven't done much pleasure reading. I've done a lot of reading for work, things like all of Patrick Lencioni, Malcom Gladwell, Marcus Buckingham - stuff like that.

But I haven't read any novels.

Until vacation when I started reading a little book called....

Twilight.

Don't judge me.

And now I can't stop. And every book I've read I've been obsessed with finishing. It's like I can't concentrate on anything else!

What's happening?

Since my vacation began on August 28th, I have read the following:

• Twilight
• New Moon
• Eclipse
• Breaking Dawn
• The Secret Life of Bees
• My Sister's Keeper
• Shutter Island (this is the new Scorsese movie w/ Leo DiCaprio that's coming out soon. I HIGHLY recommend it)
• The Russian Concubine (again, don't judge me)

I'm still reading The Russian Concubine - so I can't give a report on that one. But all of the others one were awesome. AWESOME!

On my bookshelf, just waiting for me to read them are:

• Say You're One of Them
• Friday Night Knitting Club
• Time Traveller's Wife
• Water for Elephants
  
• The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

I'm loving it. I have very little interest in television (which I am also loving).

Reading is so.....

Satisfying.

Who knew?

Vacation Revelation, Part VI

"Schedule" is a dirty word.

____________________

In the words of my favorite comic Calvin & Hobbes, “there’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want."

That was our vacation this year. Oh sure, we did stuff – but the vast majority of our time was spent hanging out by the pool.

My favorite conversation of our vacation was as follows:

Heidi: So Kurt, what do you want to do today?

Kurt: I don’t know – whatever we feel like.

(long pause)

Heidi: What day is it?

(another long pause)

Kurt: I have no idea.

It doesn't get any better than that.

Vacation Revelation, Part V

Vacation is about Excess.
________________________

(This blog post could also be considered a vaction "confession" - but a confession implies an apology of sorts- and I make no apologies about this particular vacation behavior).

Let me preface this blog post with this: Don’t Judge Me.

We usually eat reasonably healthy food. We occassioanlly have have junk food – but we work to keep it under control.

Unless we’re on vacation.

As far as I’m concerned, Vacation is synonymous with Excess.

Do what you love to do – and do a lot of it; so long as it’s fun and relaxing (and legal). I’m not with really down with doing excessive amounts of work on vacation. You get the idea…

Anyway… the Goble Family enjoys Comfort Food.

So when the Goble Family goes on vacation, we bring out the Comfort Food (in abundance).

And a Comfort Food staple for us is GORP.

GORP stands for “Good Ol’ Raisins & Peanuts.”

Okay, so NOTHING about raisins and peanuts sounds comforting (or appetizing).

So we’ve made modifications (actually, it’s an old Rekstad Family recipe that has been carried forward).

Remember.

DON’T.JUDGE.ME.

This is our version of GORP.

Sigh.... It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

(you have to click on the picture to truly appreciate its beauty)

Of course, we also buy excessive amounts of new clothes while we're on vacation because by the time we get home, none of our clothes fit us anymore. But hey... You take the bad with the good, right?

Vacation Revelation, Part IV

Fresh air smells foul to 7 year olds.

_______________________________

We step off the shuttle and into the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.

We’re deep in the heart of Zion Canyon in Zion National Park.

It’s early morning (about 7:30 or so).

The breeze is cool.
The river is flowing rapidly about 100 yards from us.

There are trees all around us – and off in the distance is a beautiful meadow.

The rock cliffs that soar several thousand feet into the air are a deep rust color and seem to go on without ending.

There’s no one else around.

Hope and I are hand in hand as we start down the trail.

I inhale deeply – close my eyes and just soak it all in for a minute.

Hope does the same.

She inhales deeply and immediatley looks up at me with a look of disgust.

“WHAT is that smell, Mom?”

"What smell?" I demand. How could she hurl such an insult at the most beautiful place in the world?

She inhaled again - and this time cut it short with a load groan, "Ugh! The air STINKS!"

I try to compose myself amid such blasphemy.

I inhale again.

"What you smell is called fresh air, Hope. Fresh.Air."

"Yeah well...." she mutters and her voice trails off...

(long pause)

"... it stinks."

Sigh...

Vacation Revelation, Part III

Laugh and the world laughs with you.

Fart and you stand alone.
___________________________________

We’re on the shuttle in Zion National Park.

There’s a little old married couple sitting two rows in front of us.

They’re so sweet together – he’s talking and she’s laughing softly.

I see the man rocking back and forth in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

Suddenly the look on the woman’s face changes. She looks irritated.

No more smiles, soft laughter or chatting.

Without warning, she gets up and moves to another seat at the front of the shuttle and glaring at him the entire time.

The man shakes his head and continues rocking.

And then I hear it.

A sort of muted trumpet sound.

What? What is that? Is that an animal? What is that?

I look around and don’t see anything.

No one else on the shuttle seems to notice anything.

The little old man is looking around the shuttle as he rocks from side to
side; undoubtedly searching for the source of the weird trumpety sound.

Our eyes lock.

He stops moving, mid-rock.

I hear the trumpety sound again.

The man gives me a big grin.

Wait…

The trumpety sound seems to be in time with the old man’s rocking.

I begin processing.

Sweet little old lady becomes irritated and leaves husband’s side to sit in the front of the shuttle.

Sweet little old man rocking back and forth – seemingly in sync with the weird trumpety sound.

Old man’s big goofy grin is followed by more rocking and trumpeting.

And then the wind changes….

The little old man’s grin widens as my eyes begin to water.

Dear.Lord.In.Heaven.

WHAT is that smell…

Fortunately we arrive at our stop just as the gray fog is enveloping the rest of my family. We dive off the shuttle and breathe in the fresh air.

I hear the little old man laughing as the shuttle drives away.

He’s still sitting alone.

Rocking.

And trumpeting.

Vacation Revelation, Part II

I am more relaxed when my hair is stringy, my face is freckled beyond all reason and I'm not wearing any make-up.

__________________________________

When I'm at home, I never go anywhere without putting on make-up and doing my hair. It's just one of the many things that I'm uptight about.

But on vacation? I couldn't care less.

Behold, my vacation face...

Vacation Revelation Part I

Three year old boys should not attempt housework without direct supervision.

______________________________________________

I was straightening up the house. I had just finished throwing a load of clothes in the washing machine when Jack walked up to me and insisted that he help me.

I gave him little jobs to do – throw this in the trash, go set this on the coffee table, go sit on the quietly on the couch to keep it from flying away (you’d be surprised how often that one works), etc…

Little did I know that he had his sights set on something that was a bit more…. involved.

I continue my whirlwind cleaning tour with great speed and focus as I am eager to finish because I’m in the middle of reading the book, “Breaking Dawn” (the fourth and final book in the beloved Twilight saga) and taking a break from reading it has produced symptoms that can only be described as separation anxiety.

In my blinding dedication to return to my book, I focus all my attention on getting the house clean.

And then it hits me.

I haven’t seen or heard from Jack in quite some time.

As if sensing that I was thinking of him, I hear from shout at me from the hallway.

“Momma! I just do the waundry!”

No…..

I drop what I’m doing and run toward the laundry room. He’s not in there.

“JACK?!” I shout my voice filled with panic.

“In here Momma!” came the cheerful reply.

It was coming from the bathroom.

Oh.

No…..

And just as I turn to make my way to the bathroom, I see him standing there – naked from the waist down, grinning from ear to ear, his shirt totally soaked, "water" all over his face, holding out a ball of sopping wet clothes – which have now created a pool of “water” at his feet.

“My helping you Momma! I did the waundry for you!"

With great trepidation I manage to sqeak out the words, "Where did you do the laundry Jack?"

"In the tooolet!" he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

My mind immediately starts in with the coping exercises that it has so diligently practiced since the day Jack was born. Breathe.... Don't look at water now pooling around your feet.... Breathe.... Look at how cute he is.... He just wants to help.... Breathe.... You love him more than life itself..... Children are a precious, precious gift.... BREATH...... BA-REEEETHE!

I stand over the toilet with the eyes pinched shut for about 35 seconds before I finally look.

Judging from the substance in the toilet, the “waundry” wasn’t the only thing he did in there.

Sigh....

Can't blog....... reading Twilight series

I heart Edward Cullen.

Don't judge me.

Okay Friends, I Really Need Your Help on this...

Okay friends, readers, lurkers, I desperately need some help with this one....

Jack (my 3 year old son) refuses to poop on the toilet. He'll go potty - no problem at all. But when it comes to poop, he's as stubborn as the day is long.

He'll hide somewhere.... I'll catch him - trying to poop in his underwear. I'll take him to the toilet and sit him on it.

He will sit there and scream for a half hour - and never take a poop.

This will go on for days.

Until finally, he will wait till bedtime (when he gets a pull-up) - and poop in his pull-up.

This has been the pattern for the last 3 months.

And here's a little something to make it more fun:

He's supposed to start preschool on September 9th. He can't go unless he's fully potty trained.

I need your help.

We may not know each other.

You may not like to comment on people's blogs.

But please.

I need some advice!

Nordrstrom's Reject

So I'm at Costco. I see that they have swimming suits.

SIDE NOTE: I don't know that I can adequately convey my loathing of swim-suit shopping.

Seriously.

So if I need a suit and I see one - I just grab one in my size. I don't try it on (life is hard enough).

They had black swimming suits at Costco.

I walk up to the rack and reach for the suits to start browsing for my size.

About 20 feet away is the saleslady - lamenting to her co-worker about the fact that she didn't get hired as a salesperson at Nordstrom.

She sees me looking through the suits and says (from 20 feet away so it's REALLY loud) "Oh I'm sorry honey - we don't have anymore larges!"

Nice.

But wait. There's more.

I look up at her, my face quickly beginning to change color.

She continues with this.... (note that she was still 20 feet away and is still talking at full voice)

"You really look like you should get an extra large anyway. I think we have some in the back - let me page somebody for an extra large suit for you."

OH.DEAR.LORD....

I simply look at her and eek out the words "No need."

She resumed her conversation about her complete surprise at the fact that she couldn't get a a job at Nordstroms....

Yeah.

If only there had been some clue...