current favorite iphone apps

My iphone. I love it more and more every day.   How we lived before iphones is beyond me.  I did have a Franklin Day Planner that once ruled my life, but this is that and oh so much, much more.

All I need is an address, and my phone can fetch me any map I need.  It's been years since I have taken any books to church. No more heavy scriptures to lug around.  And my new phone even is voice activated.  I can talk-text someone, or if something pops into my head I need to remember, I can dictate a note to myself, or I can tell my phone to call someone, and it will. (John practically insisted that I get the new one- serious arm twisting involved.  I think he just felt guilty every time he saw my old one while he was using the latest and greatest, even though he knows I could care less about the latest and greatest, well until I get used to it that is, and then I become spoiled and can't go back)

My new favorite apps?  Amazon has an awesome app that allows you to scan things if you are out shopping, and purchase that item then and there.  For instance Friday night, John and I and some friends were hanging out at Barnes and Noble (yes, we are party animals) and I noticed that Shannon Hale just released a sequel to Austenland.  So, I used the Amazon app, scanned the barcode and low and behold it was cheaper on Amazon than at Barnes and Noble! With one click it was in my virtual shopping cart! Then a half an hour later, I found another book I wanted and did the same thing. (I realize the B&N people probably frown on that sort of activity so, shh! don't tell.)  A word of advice- This app should not be used while intoxicated.  John introduced it to a friend of his (many of his co-workers like their liquor probably a little too much) and the story goes that after leaving a bar one night, he stumbled into a Best Buy, and used his Amazon App to purchase over $4000 worth of electronics which he had completely forgotten about until it all showed up on his doorstep a couple of days later.

Another new favorite is Words with Friends.  It's like scrabble only you can have on going games with friends from all over the place. I'm in the middle of ten different games right now. Of course I'm not that good at it. Zero wins, nine losses. Strategy just isn't my thing. But it's still fun.  In fact, we had some friends visiting us for the weekend, and I got everybody in the house hooked on it, well at least all the adults and Nick. So there we are, on a Friday night (after hanging out at B&N) sitting around my living room, playing Words with Friends on our phones for a couple of hours.

(and just in case you are interested mom, Nolan was playing on his kindle fire). See?  I told you. Party Animals.  (of course admittedly not as much fun as the next night when we were playing this other game at another friends house and we were all laughing so hard we were crying.  And I shall cherish the image of Nolan being embarrassed.  I've known him for over a decade, and that was a first.)

The Disneyland app.  My only complaint is that I don't get to use it enough.  It gives you updates on how long the waits are on all the rides.  Awesome.

Bank of Mom- another friend blogged about this, but I love being able to keep track of what I owe the kids.  We do pay them allowance, and the occasional extra for some chores.  There's even an option to pay interest.  In an increasingly cash-less world, it takes the pain out of trying to come up with enough money to pay them regularly.  Plus, I have at least one kid who isn't the greatest at remembering where they stashed their cash to keep it safe.  My kids even like to make their own deposits to me, (for instance if Maddie earns money babysitting) so they know it's safe, and it might earn a little interest on the side.

And last but certainly not least- is the Weight Watchers App.  I joined last week.  I've come to the conclusion that my attitude is my biggest problem.  I hate going to meetings.  I hate listening to an overly perky instructor/motivational speaker teach us how to lose weight.  I get it. I've been dieting long enough.  I've been to weight watchers on several different occasions, only to get pregnant, or go to Utah for the summer, or something like that.  And it's always the same.  The program is usually tweaked slightly, but the gist of it is "Eat less, move more. And WRITE EVERYTHING DOWN"  It's that last part that gets me. I hate figuring out points and I hate writing things down, and carrying the stupid little menu planner thing with me, and I have no intention of getting on the bandwagon and raising my hand and telling the group about the substitute products I found that are less points so that I can get a gold bravo star for my forehead or my book or whatever.  In my opinion sugar substitutes = EVIL. And the "I can't believe it's not butter" spray?  BARF. Probably evil too.  I don't care how many sprays I get for zero points. Sorry. Rant over. The point is, there's an app for my phone that figures out points and keeps track of everything I eat (I have to enter it, but it's easier and funner and different than writing).  So, here's hoping the program will stick this time.  Plus, I have a friend to go with me, so I've got that going for me too.  (wish me luck this time around)

Sometimes I wonder if maybe the universe wants me to be fat.

So I had to pretty much quit Catz. Somehow, several months ago, I hurt my shoulder and it's not getting better. Some days are better than others, but some days I can't even carry my purse on my right shoulder. And I haven't been able to sleep on my right side in months. Let's just say I am getting pretty good at being left handed in some things. (and yes, I know I need to go see a doctor, but that's another story)

So I quit, because I can't do half the stuff they want me to do there. I could go and modify the work outs, but I am pretty limited to running, squats, lunges, and sit-ups. Which kindof defeats the purpose of paying them when I am making up my own work out there on my own. I can do that at home for free. (well, if I were motivated to at any rate.)

So, I decided to take up walking, it's not the same, but it's something. (and maybe, just maybe consider thinking about attempting to run for a minute or two during said walk)

Simple enough, right?

But then my trusty gym shoes disappear.

So then I go buy new ones. Remember my whole blog post about "the shoes chooses you" where they pick the shoe for you that best suits your foot?

And then after I get home, I notice this little red Nike+ oval on it. And the box tells me there is a sensor in my shoe that that connects with a free app for my iphone which I can use to keep track of distance, speed, calories burned, etc.

Pretty cool, eh? So I download the app, and my phone tells me to walk around to activate the sensor in my shoe.

So I walk and I walk.

I hop, jump, skip, run around, stomp my feet, play a crazy game of follow the leader with my kids, for at least a half an hour until it occurs to me that maybe the box wasn't telling me there is a sensor in my shoes, maybe, just maybe it is telling me I can buy a sensor for my shoe.

Oh. huh. I guess that would make sense. Hmmm. I feel stupid. Of course they wouldn't give it to me for free...

I was getting kinda excited about that sensor, and ended up heading to my local apple store to pick one up.

And then I decided for extra motivation I need new music, so I ask for help on facebook, if people could give me suggestions for good workout music, and people were helpful (but I am ALWAYS on the lookout so if any of my blogger friends have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them)

But then I remember the last time I had to get my phone fixed, I lost all my playlists, and for some reason I was having trouble syncing and updating the music on my phone, and I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure it out, so then I decide that I will take pictures of the computer screen with my phone, so I can take it to apple and show them something is wrong with either my phone or the itunes website. It was then I noticed this one stupid little box that I had forgotten to check. I'm just glad I noticed it before I made the appointment and went in and wasted a couple hours only to make a fool of myself.

Shoes? check. Sensor? check. New music? check.

Just as I think I am ready to go, we hit a ridiculously cold spell here for awhile.

Like, I am not wondering if, but how many of my bushes died.

Like Nick was telling me about hitting a patch of ice on the sidewalk, thanks to someone's sprinklers, and landed flat on his back on the way to school.

Like as in I just had to snap this picture of a frozen waterfall near our house. Cause you don't see that very often 'round these parts.

And I'm a total wuss. I'd rather stay home and curl up in a blanket and read a book than go out and brave the frozen tundra. (Of course in two months, it will be too hot to walk...)

And at long last, I am ready head out to go for a walk and start burning off all these calories from all the girl scout cookies I bought.

Now my problem is my new shoes. They feel great on, but they are more of a "structured" shoe, to help correct the way I walk. (apparently I have goofy ankles, and am prone to hurting myself walking across a flat surface) But all that new structure is giving me blisters. At the advice of a friend I bought some cushioned running socks, and that helps marginally, so I have a few questions rolling around in my brain. Some kind of gel inserts? Will that counteract the structure? Hope my feet get used to it and develop callouses in the right spots?

I know. wah. wah. It's just so annoying. In theory walking is easy. and free. In reality, not so much.

And yes, it goes without saying I should lay off the girl scout cookies as well.

(but seriously folks, any suggestions on workout music is appreciated.)

Ghetto couch pt 2

The ghetto couch is finally gone.

It sat outside for three days with a large "Free!" sign.

Then at the advice of a friend I changed the sign to say "$50" Supposedly if people think you think it is worth something, they think it is worth stealing.

Several days later, it still sat there in our front yard. Apparently we weren't fooling anybody.

So we followed some more friendly advice and put it on Craig's list (for free of course- we just wanted it gone) I was a told a story how this person put a used, ten year old mattress on Craig's list and was inundated with phone calls for several days. (ew)

We included a picture and the description that it was a 10 year old "much loved" couch.

Several days later, I had almost given up hope when I was finally contacted by someone interested in the couch.

I was afraid they would take one look at it and turn right around.

They didn't.

It's currently residing in Tempe, presumably in a college student's apartment.

Hallelujah.

John and I were happy to see it go. But not all of us felt the same.

Maddie cried. She spent some quality time sitting on the couch in the garage, saying good bye before the new hopeful owners arrived to pick it up.

The smell of my childhood

is wood. and stain. and varnish.

When we were setting up the book case in my diningroom, and removing the shrink wrap and protective cardboard pieces, I leaned in, closed my eyes, took a big wiff, and said "Oh, I love that smell."

Greg (the guy helping me move and the son of the owner) looked at me with a somewhat puzzled expression and said, "You do?". (I'm sure he thought I was weird or crazy or both)

Some people love that 'New Car' smell. I could care less. I like the 'New Furniture' smell.

The freshly cut wood, the faint wiff of stain and polyurethane.

I confess to secretly opening the cabinet doors on the book case and drawers in my desk and inhaling deeply when nobody is looking. It'll fade away soon enough. And I made all my kids come and smell and appreciate it too.

You know how scent is one of those things that brings you back to a time and place?

For me, the smell of new furniture takes me back to my childhood home.

My bedroom was in the basement, right next to my dad's wood shop. He was always in there working on something. He built most of the furniture in my parent's house, and a good percent of the furniture in my house right now. My mom even had her own band saw and spent the better part of the late 80's and early 90's in the basement cutting out wood for various relief society homemaking projects. Homemaking leaders from all over came to her to have her cut out wood for them.

Anyway, somewhere along the way I learned to love the smell of new furniture.

It's here. Oh, and they're here too.

♪♫♪ It's here, it's here, it's here it's here! ♪♫♪

And by "it" of course I am talking about my furniture.

I know, I am kindof ridiculously excited about it. It is just stuff. Materialistic things.

But I've waited a really long time. (Seven years.) And I saved my very own hard earned money. (I actually have callouses from stirring and cutting caramels-true story) And it's really pretty.

In fact, I'm having a hard time letting the kids near the desk. The desk that we bought so they would have a place to do their homework where it wouldn't be in danger of having orange juice spilled on it. (another true story) Last night Madison wanted to sit at the desk and research sea horses for a school report, and take notes in a spiral bound notebook, and that once harmless metal coil started to look a lot more like razor wire sitting on my desk.

The people at Cortate were super nice. I know they were at the mercy of the shipping people and the builders just as much as I was. They knew I was a single mom this week, so Hope (the owner) had her son Greg, follow me home, and set up the furniture in my house- twice! It took two loads in the trailer. Needless to say- I gave them caramels.

I had it all arranged in my head, where everything was going to go, but I was unprepared for how pretty the back of the desk was going to be. It's now my favorite part. Sadly, the desk is up against a wall right now. I need to figure out how to rearrange my furniture now to fix that travesty, but at the same time not look weird and awkward. (the furniture arrangement, not me. I gave up on that battle a long time ago.)

And in other news, the girl scout cookies arrived today too. Madison and I worked for the better part of the day delivering, but still have many more people to go. It seems I am incapable of not carrying on a lengthy conversation at each and every doorstep. (who, me? Talk alot? No way.)

My week so far

Supposedly my furniture was due to be delivered to the store this week.

That's what we were told on Saturday.

Supposedly as of Saturday it was sitting in a warehouse in Phoenix and would be delivered on Monday, and I could come pick it up on Wednesday.

Supposedly.

And John is out of town.

Naturally.

Of course when I arrived on Wednesday with the borrowed trailer attached to my Suburban, they told me it's still sitting in that warehouse in Phoenix.

"It should be here any day now!" they optimistically told me.

Meanwhile I have a trailer attached to my car, so I don't feel like I can go anywhere because I don't feel comfortable driving it around. Which of course makes it all the more annoying when I mess up the dates and show up a week early for my dentist appointment . And I can't park it in my driveway let alone my garage because it's too long, and I don't feel comfortable going anywhere with it, so it sits in front of my house.

Also in front of the house is the ghetto couch.

With a giant free sign on it.

I've been told that if nobody takes it in the next couple of days, I should put a new sign on it asking $50 and it should disappear in the middle of the night.

FYI- There's a plate of sugar cookies in it for anyone who helps with the furniture.

The Ghetto Couch

Once upon a time there was a lovely little couch.

It was just perfect for a little family of four.

It was much loved by it's owners.

Over time, that "love" took it's toll.

A missing leg here, a rip there, a tear here, a hole there...

And those loving, dirty, dirty hands.

Oh, the owners did their best and had it cleaned several times,

But alas, the little family outgrew the couch and decided that it was time to replace the sad, holey, wobbly, disgusting, dirty, torn, smelly, and downright embarrassing couch.

So it was moved from the back family room to the dining room where everybody who came to the house could see the retarded couch sitting alone in the room.

And there it sat. For a year.

The parents would talk about sending it to the sidewalk with the hopes that someone else would take it away, (it happens all the time here in AZ) but the children would cry.

They thought about putting it in the little boys' room. Reassembling the bunk beds (instead of two separate beds) and placing the couch where one bed once stood, but then they realized the flaw in the plan. The mom started envisioning "active" children leaping off the top bunk onto the couch and smacking a head or breaking an arm or a window or something equally destructive.

Right now the debate is to put it in the loft (toy room) or not. Toys would have to go. Probably the massive Little People set. Sent to Good Will? Given away? Stored in the attic for grand kids? (I figure it could be as little as ten years, hopefully not less)

I have decided to cross off "furniture mover" as a possible career choice.

I mentioned yesterday that John was out of town when I got my chair for my library.

"That's ok. It's just a chair. How hard can it be, really? I can totally do it myself."

Holy cow.

And so the question is, How does one girl (me) get the World's Heaviest Chair from the back of her Suburban and into my house without killing myself?

With my brains and my kids' wagon that's how.

Of course getting it onto the wagon was quite a feat, and I nearly quit right there and waited for either Nick or my neighbor Mike to get home, but I persisted.

And navigating the front walk was pretty tricky, and getting it in the front door...

Then there was the fact that it was in two pieces and needed to be assembled, but didn't come with instructions...

And it was only by chance I discovered the feet tied in a bag to the underside of the chair...

But I did it!

All by myself.

7 years

Seven years ago we were in the process of building this house. Every Sunday afternoon we would take the kids over and wander through the skeleton of our future home looking for progress, and trying to visualize what it would be like when it was done and finally ours. We would get so excited about each and every little thing that was "new".

"This will be Nick's room, this one is Maddie's, and this is gonna be Zach's. The couch will go here, and the TV here... Look! We have plumbing!!!"

And since I have visualization problems, I'd sneak off to the model home every chance I got to see it completed. I remember once not being able to rest until I checked out the lighting in the kitchen and talked to the salesman. I didn't remember if we upgraded the lighting or not, because when you build a house there are 40,000 possible upgrade options and after awhile all you see are dollar signs, and what if, what if I got the standard lighting and it was (gasp!) fluorescent lighting? (It wasn't)

One thing that started to bother me was that the house has a dining room. I didn't really see the need for dining rooms. They're kinda stupid. A whole room dedicated to eating a fancy meal once or twice a year? And given that you use the room on "special occasions" it is generally accepted that the furniture be a little nicer than your average kitchen table, and the dinnerware be a little nicer as well.

We don't own any of that stuff. And our money is generally being spent on things we use pretty regularly and has to stand up to four (then three) active kids.

A whole room dedicated to a couple of meals a year where I will spend the whole meal worrying that somebody (myself or the kids) will spill cranberry sauce on the carpet?

In other words, I think dining rooms are stupid.

Apparently I'm not the only one.

Our house was a pretty popular model. I have several friends who live in my exact house. Instead of a dining room table, one friend stuck a pool table in her dining room. I know someone with a baby grand piano in there. One friend walled it off and made an office. And another completely remodeled her kitchen, moved some walls around, and now she has a walk in pantry where her dining room once was.

Since those days of wandering around the skeleton of my future house, I have had a different vision for that room.

I wanted a library.

My vision included a 9 foot book case along the one wall without a window, and the rest of it was a little blurry. A chair or two? A table? Maybe a desk?

For seven years I have kept my eyes out for the right book case.

I never really found the "perfect one" and any extra money was usually needed elsewhere, so for seven years our dining room/library has remained empty. Except for of course at Christmastime, and that's where we'd put the tree.

The only exception being this last year, that room has been home to The Ghetto Couch, because the kids have been having so much fun playing with a piece of furniture where nobody restricts activity -gymnastics? Why not? Using the cushions for a fort? Be my guest. I just haven't had the heart to throw it out (it's a good bet to look for a future posting on the love/hate relationship we have with The Ghetto Couch.) The thought of putting it out on the end of the driveway with a "free! Take Me!" sign on it, brings more than one kid to tears.

But soon, any day now, that couch will have to make room for my brand new library. (And the Christmas tree will have to find a new home next year too)

This year, I saved all the money I used from selling caramels, and combined that with any birthday and Christmas money I was given and went shopping. We looked at a few different places, and couldn't find anything we loved.

We really liked this one (I didn't have a tape measure and was too lazy to go look for a salesperson, besides I hate the way they stand there and stare at you waiting for you to make a decision, and I like to stew on big purchases for days or weeks, coming back to look at something time and time again) so I made John stand in front of it for perspective. (when we got home I made him pose the same way to get a feel for it)

That particular book case ended up being too big for the wall, and while I really love the idea of having a ladder on my book case, (that bar running across it behind John's head supports a ladder) I was afraid Christopher would like it more, and he'd end up breaking an arm jumping off it or something. The $2500 price tag made me choke a little, (okay, more than a little) but that seems to be about the going rate for a larger wall unit. (hence the 7 year wait)

And then in my searches, I discovered a little furniture store- Cortate Furniture. They are as bare bones as they come. Only open 3 days- just 18 hours a week. No showroom- you order from a catalog. No returns, refunds, or exchanges. (They don't keep stock on hand) It's owned by a lady named Hope, who started the business to help herself and others get reasonably priced furniture. I think her only employees are her grown kids. They're all super nice and honest, and helpful, and I think hands down I don't think I've never had a better furniture shopping experience. AND I'M STILL WAITING FOR MY FURNITURE. (I really can't say enough nice things about the people or my experience so far- if you're in the Gilbert area and in the market for furniture go check them out.)

Long story short, two months ago I walked out of her little store with the receipts for a book case, a desk for me, and a reclining reading chair. All for less than money than I was thinking I was going to have to spend on just the bookcase. And the desk and book case are custom made solid wood affairs. (hence the two month wait)

So yeah, that was two months ago. I did get the chair a week ago. (that's another story) And I am still waiting for the other furniture. It's been 7 years, but these past couple of weeks have been the worst. I run to the phone in anticipation every time. "Oh, Hi John. It's just you. So, how's (insert city here)?"

Any day now.

Hopefully they will call on a day John is actually in town. They don't deliver, and have no room to store it for you, so they want you to come pick it up that day. And that would really suck if I would have to do it by myself.

Getting my geek on

My friend Brenda called me on Saturday and invited me to a comic book convention. Not the super-cool one in California, but the "Amazing Arizona Comic Con" or something like that. I decided to believe that she invited me because she thought I, like her, would be amused by the whole thing, and not because she thought I was the type of person who frequented these types of things.

Cause I'm not.

This was my first time. Honest.

Although it was pretty dang amusing. And I could probably be persuaded to go again.

There were quite a few comic-con type stereotypical people there. And I LOVE stereotypes.

People dressed up in Star Wars, or Super Hero costumes.

There was a panel discussion about a sci-fi zombie tv show- The Walking Dead (I think) with the writer and some actors, and people could ask questions ("What do you like to collect?")

So the overall theme seemed to be zombies. There were a lot of zombies running around. There were even a couple of zombie girls on the end of dog catcher poles being led around by official looking zombie catchers, and the girls were snarling and snapping at each other and innocent bystanders (especially other zombies that happened to be milling about checking out the comic books and dolls collectible action figures. "It's not a doll!")

Yes, I know, I am admitting what a judgmental person I am, and it is wrong to make fun of other people, (never to their faces- as if that makes me a better person) and in many cases it is a serious case of "the pot calling the kettle black"- for instance, it's no secret that I struggle with my own weight issues, so I should be more sensitive to others, however, I still can't help but giggle internally when I see a very overweight girl dressed up like a fairy. Imagine me, with 50 more pounds, in a blue leotard, and tiny blue wings on my back, running around in public.

So to answer any questions anybody might have- No, I did not stand in the ridiculously long line to get an autograph from actors I've never heard of that star in a show I've never heard of, I am not the proud new owner of any action figures or comic books, vintage and rare or otherwise. In my attempt to blend in I did wear a Gryffindor t-shirt, but I still don't think I really fit in. I am however, now the proud new owner of a bootleg copy of the Broadway musical Wicked.

Guy pawning the probably not-so-legal DVD's- "That's the New York Cast"

Me- "Original Broadway cast, or another cast?"

Guy- "Uh..."

Me- "Who is starring in it? Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth?"

Guy- "Uh????"

(It was another cast. I bought it anyway. Madison is obsessed with the music, and she loves to watch youtube clips from the show. I figured this was a little better.)

Also a "visitor" ID badge to the Jeffersonian Institute- Where Dr. Brennan works in my fave TV show -Bones. (and Seeley Booth's and Chuck Bartowski's ID badges- I couldn't resist)

(Admit it- some of you are silently, or not so silently, laughing at and/or judging me now. Ü)

Decorating

John hung up Christmas lights AGAIN this year. They were up the weekend of Thanksgiving. Can you believe that? I can't say that ever in our marriage have we had Christmas lights TWO years in a row. We were averaging once every three years. So, sad, I know, but now we are on a roll. I think he finally, finally decided that the joy it brings the five people he loves most in the world is worth an afternoon of frustration and a little bit of electricity. On a whim, he even bought some snazzy LED snowflake thingies at Costco a month ago.

I bought wreaths for our front door. We'd also been lacking in this department. We have double doors, so one wreath looks goofy, but I think two wreaths look like your house has eyes, and all the wreaths I see at stores look either really tacky or aren't very budget-friendly. I finally found some I like though. See the little cinnamon sticks?

These aren't that new, some but I just wanted to share some of my favorite kinds of ornaments. I have lots and lots of favorites, some are home made, some are souvenirs from places we visited, gifts from family or friends, and some are just dang cute (in my opinion) but for whatever reason, I love these little clippy ones. Instead of hanging down from the branch, they clip on the top. Which is awesome cause I like lots of ornaments, and these are perfect for maximizing branch usage. They sorta fill in the gaps. Once you think "wow, I don't know how I could hang another ornament on the tree without them banging into each other" you pull out the clippies and all sorts of options open up. They're can be hard to find though, so when I do, I usually grab at least a couple.

My one lowlight.

I broke my phone.


It dropped and the screen cracked.


Or shattered is a more acurate term.


With little shards of glass and jagged edges that the guy at the apple store said "well, the phone works just fine, you don't have to get it fixed, but I wouldn't hold it up to your ear..."


I got it fixed.


$200

What a scam.


The warranty and extended warranty cover everything but what you might do to it. So only stuff that's their fault.


Now I'm paranoid.

Cause I'm a total stinkin' clutz.

back up your stuff!!!

I'd been having issues with my cell phone.

It works great unless I want to make a call, and then it can't seem to find the SIM card. grrr.

2 trips to the AT&T store, 1 trip to the Apple store and 3 hours later, my phone is fixed.

Actually it's a new phone. They couldn't fix it.

Manufacturer's defect? It got dropped too much? Who knows?

At any rate it was covered by the warranty. (hallelujah)

Any way, the very nice guy at the Apple store helped me convert all my files since I couldn't remember when I properly backed up everything.

Except somehow a huge chunk of stuff got lost.

Contacts? check!

Calendar items? check!

All my apps? no.

Pictures? no.

Music? no.

Fortunately nothing was permanently lost. The apps I can get back. Most of them were free anyway, and the ones that weren't are on my account, so I can put them back on my phone for free.

Same with music. It's all organized on itunes on my computer.

And thank heavens I did that car post yesterday. Half those pictures from yesterday's post came from my ipod, which I barely uploaded YESTERDAY. Granted, 95 % of them weren't that great anyway, but I still would have been sad. I capture the spur of the moment shots on my phone. I have a real camera when I PLAN on taking pictures, and then there's stuff like when I am saying good night to Nick and he's talking to me about something, and Christopher crawls in bed and is sound asleep in 2 minutes flat. I pull the phone out of my pocket and snap a picture.

And then there's the fact that my kids have figured out that my phone takes videos. I find random little video clips on it all the time. I just found one yesterday that Christopher made a little while ago, and as he panned around the messy kitchen, you can clearly hear his little voice say "My house." How stinkin' cute is that?!?! Future Steven Spielberg right there.

So all I'm saying is, while there was no real loss, there almost was. And so don't be like me and back up your stuff more than every once in a blue moon.

Christopher's cars

I started to notice a lack of pictures in my recent posts. Apparently in my efforts to "just write something" have left the reader without a lot of visuals. So here's a post I've been working on for awhile now.

I realize most of these pictures aren't the greatest quality, and the subject matter will probably get old pretty quickly, but beggars can't be choosers.

If I had to guess I'd say that Christopher's obsession with my ipod and youtube has had the direct result of his continued obsession with his Cars' cars. When he's not (and many times when he is) watching youtube on my ipod, he's playing with and arranging his Cars. I find them all over my house. Currently they are precisely arranged on the loveseat in my bedroom. But I find them all over the house in different rooms, different arrangements, etc.

Sometimes he lines them up in a long line,

Sometimes he positions them as if they were getting ready to race (I think).

Sometimes he separates his Lightning McQueens from the rest of the flock

I find them in all sorts of random places in my house-

On the kitchen table,

On the back of the couch,

On the bottom of the railing,

Carefully balanced across the top of the railing, although after spending no less than 30 minutes looking for it, I can't find that picture.

In the back yard lined up on the cement border (please ignore the ridiculous amount of grass in the rocks)

It's how he comforted himself when far away from home in a hotel in California,

And entertains himself at home by driving them off my counter top and crashing them all over my kitchen,

or lining them up and taking his own pictures of them. This picture is actually upside down. It was taken from his point of view, but it's the last picture and I'm done fighting with the pictures and getting them "just so".

Putting it all in perspective

Okay, so everything on the trip didn't go perfectly smoothly.

First we were a little late because I thought I lost the GPS. We spent a half an hour looking for it and were a little late getting to Disneyland because of it. I was afraid I left it on the bumper of the car and I was going to have to figure out how to navigate myself around town old school. (you know, paper maps and asking people for directions)

Finally Nick had an inspired idea, and the GPS was found.

Next, I left my cell phone in the car. Or at least I was 50% sure I left it in the car. 40% me wondered if it was in the hotel room and 10% of me worried I dropped it in a parking lot, or left it at breakfast or something.

That was inconvenient because I was planning on letting the older two take off on their own and go on "scary rides" and check in every once in awhile. Also I was hoping to meet up with another friend and fellow husband-less mom who happened to be there at the same time. I elected to not spend 30-45 minutes dragging the two younger kids back to the car for the 50/50 chance that my phone was there. I kept my eyes open, but never ran into Tricia.

Then after Indiana Jones, Nick informed me he left his glasses on the ride. He went back and hung out with the ride attendants and they sadly informed him his glasses were no where to be found. "Sorry, kid" they said. "Check back later. Maybe someone will turn them in."

I was pretty livid. Despite the fact that I was clearly not guilt-free in the losing things category (although nothing was really lost), his lost glasses really irked me. That would be the second pair lost in less than a year.

So fuming a little, I took the little kids to go for a relaxing train ride around the park while the older two went off to find some thrills. We were going to meet back up in a little bit.

The train arrived at the station and there was a little commotion as a lady tripped and fell off the steps to the train. I heard a little girl cry "Grandma!" and I pulled out the camera to snap some pictures of my boys while I waited for her to be helped up. Maybe she sprained her ankle or something. I wasn't paying a whole lot of attention because I figured the last thing this lady needed was another gawker. (I can relate to falling on my face regularly) The attendants didn't seem too concerned, so I just figured I'd kill some time while we waited for her to be helped up.
Next thing I knew, hysterical kids (her grandkids?) were being rushed away from the scene. I looked over to where she fell and realized she was still down and laying abnormally still. Then I saw the blood pooling under her head.
The attendants suddenly were rushing us all away from the scene, the train was emptied umbrellas were brought over to block the view of curious onlookers. Christopher didn't understand why we were leaving the train station- he looked at me , rubbed his chest in baby sign language, and very deliberately pointed to the train and said "Pwease?"

As we walked away, several thoughts were running through my head. First, I was sure she was dead. Just like that. On vacation with her family, stepping of the train, and then out of the blue she was gone. I knew that head wounds bleed badly, and she could still be fine, but it was the look on the faces of the family members being rushed away that had me fearing the worst.

So there I was, concerned about material things, thinking how my day wasn't going as smoothly as it could, and worrying about replacing glasses and cell phones.

And suddenly I was ashamed.

I was facing a couple minor inconveniences, and this other family was facing a tragedy. Best case scenario, their day at The Happiest Place on Earth was going to be cut short to spend the rest of the day in the hospital with grandma. I was looking at a few hundred dollars to replace the things lost, and who knows how much they were looking at in medical bills. Worst case scenario, Disneyland for them would forever be the place where grandma died.

Things ended on a better note, the cell phone and glasses were found, and a little while after the train incident, I was standing in the middle of a walkway examining a map, when a pushy medical person yelled at me to step to the right. They had a gurney coming through. I was glad to see she seemed conscious (and not covered up by a sheet) although clearly she needed immediate medical attention. I prayed that it was nothing a couple of stitches couldn't fix.

I just hope that the next time I'm dealing with a couple of minor inconveniences, it won't take witnessing somebody else's major problems to put it all in perspective for me. We still had each other, and our good health.

People over possessions.

I'm sure it won't be the last time I let minor things get in the way of the big picture, but hopefully I can recover quickly.

feeling blue

This last weekend Nick got to go on a boating trip with the boy scouts. He said he had a lot of fun. They did all the usual activities like water skiing and knee boarding. Nick said he was really careful about keeping his glasses safe and tucked away when there was danger of losing them in the lake. (However I have it on good authority that on at least one occasion he forgot and tried to jump in with them on, but luckily he has some very observant leaders who were kind enough to remind him in time.)

So the trip is over, the glasses are still safe, the kids are cleaning off the boat, and somehow during all this, Nick gets hit in the face with a wet towel (it was an accident- according to Nick they had formed a human chain and were cleaning their stuff off the boat by tossing it to the next kid in line) and the glasses end up at the bottom of the lake.

So later that night we ended up at Sears ordering him some new glasses. I was prepared to buy him some cheaper ones, but he is willing to work off the difference and he wanted to get the same blue ones again. And to be honest I loved the blue ones. They were pretty awesome.

The only problem was they didn't have the blue ones in stock, and apparently the staff is incompetent. It took two people to look up his order on the computer, and they were trying to tell us his glasses were brown.

"No, they were definitely blue."

"Could they have been gray? These glasses only come in brown, black, and gray, and it says you ordered the brown ones."

"No. Blue. Really blue. Bright blue, definitely, unmistakably blue."

"Are you sure? The computer says they were brown."

"Can you check again? Maybe you have the wrong account."

After checking again, with me watching over their shoulder, and making sure they click on the 12 year old Nicholas Berrett instead of the 35 year old one in a totally different city, they finally found his order.

"You're right. Those are blue."

Death of a Garbage Can

Ode to a garbage can-

While weekly you fulfilled your job of containing all the refuse my family threw out, still I will not miss your stinky vileness. I recognize your contribution to our household, but I am still not saddened by your loss. It is with only the regret that now I have no place to hold our bags of household trash, that I leave your broken carcass in front of my house for any passerby to see.

Rest in Pieces.

My new favorite soap

My sister in law in Texas sent us a package in the mail the other day.It was full of fun things like clothes her kids had outgrown, a birthday present for Christopher, and a little something for me.

Hand Soap! I love it! I don't know where she got it but I think I need to find out. The gift giving possibilities are endless with this one.

Thanks, Corrine!