Trigger's "sit in"

My dog is the only one who knows how to enjoy the outdoors. When we had some sun this week, Trigger would take the opportunity to cripple my legs as he shot past me every time I opened the door. He jogs just out of reach and then…lays down. He doesn’t tear off after something or chase his tail. He just lays down. He weighs in at about 90 pounds and he knows I can’t make him come inside if he doesn’t want to go, so it’s actually pretty effective. My favorite part about a good Trigger “sit in” is when he rolls onto his back. All that beautiful long Golden Retriever hair just spreads out on the grass and his front paws kind of flop over his ribcage. He rubs his head in the lawn and wiggles his back end back and forth over the grass. You know what he wants….a tummy rub. Trigger can always be bought with a tummy rub.
So here I am laughing at the dog instead of diligently trying to bring him inside before someone from the condo board realizes I have an unleashed dog outside my residence. I can’t get my kids up from the downstairs to enjoy the beautiful day, but the dog and I can enjoy it without them. Maybe I’ll come out and sit with him for awhile.

Kindergarten Round Up

Driving by a school the other day, I saw it was time for Kindergarten “round up”. I love the inference that the five year olds are so wild that they require “rounding up”. Just throw a rope around a big group of them and yank them into school. Keep a border collie just outside in case of strays.
There’s a cartoon that used to be on TV called “Recess”. In the show, the kindergarteners are portrayed Indians. They wear face paint and rarely use English words. My guess is that these kids are “rounded up” at the beginning of the year.
I think it would be a good idea to round up 7th graders. I mean, if anyone is crazy or wild, I think it’s 7th graders. At least 7th grade boys. They could put it on the Marquee. “7th Grade Boys Roundup” and then we could all bring our wild boys down on a certain day to have them registered and lassoed. I think they’d need a lot of Border Collies.

Walmart Shoppers

You know those emails that have been going around with pictures of completely insane people who shop at Walmart? Well, we saw one of them! I took my kids to St. George for a little getaway and while we were at Walmart (I know there's one near my house, but this one had different stuff) Mitchell saw an older guy (maybe 70+) wearing HOT PINK SHORTS! And they were seriously short too! I don't know what he was thinking but I was scrambling for my phone to take a picture when we lost him. The children let me down and didn't follow where he was going. Dangit! I think you all would've enjoyed it. I could've started my own email and become famous.

So back to St. George. I have a little sunburn as a result of my laying in the sun for several hours at the pool in gorgeous 78 degree weather. I wear my burn proudly. It means I've actually been in the sun and able to wear clothing that would expose me to it's harmful rays. Yes! Take that! Anyway, the kids and I stayed at the crappiest hotel ever and we loved it. We played games in the room, shopped for spring clothes, went to dinner and a movie and of course, hung out at the pool. We made fun of people who eat boiled eggs from the continental breakfast bar and while we were at it, we stole some hot chocolate packets for bedtime. Mitchell invented a new superhero named bumblebee man who wears a hotel sheet on his head and heckles his little sister. He also perfected the art of complaining about shopping with girls while walking and texting a girl at the same time. Zoe, whoever you are, we are glad that every detail of our trip was texted to you and hope you enjoyed it. I learned that Kylee "doesn't do" stripes as we shopped for T-shirts, but that she IS on "team Jacob" when we found a shirt with the beautiful Taylor Lautner on it. Don't you love family bonding?

So now we're back. The dogs are still in Idaho with my cute husband it's so peaceful here that I'm able to keep my Zen going for one more day. I'll leave that thought with you along with a picture of my cutie pie new niece. Introducing McKinna Kathleen. Isn't she squishy baby cute?

Wing

Wing is the season between winter and spring. It only exists in Utah. Maybe a few other areas too but who cares about those?
Today is the 5th of April and there's a freakin blizzard outside. Last week I let my daughter wear capris to school and now the coats are back on. My crocus and daffodils are up and there's two inches of snow on them.
Here's the weather forecast for a typical winter in Utah. December we get like 12 feet of snow. January and part of February is where you go for days on end without seeing the sky. Then, in March just before everyone wants to kill themselves we get a little peek of sun. Maybe a weekend of 50 or 55 degrees. We all get excited and start making plans to plant gardens and get the kids bikes out. People take walks and push their kids around in strollers. Then it snows. And it rains. This is followed by a day of sun somewhere just to keep us guessing and then there's more snow.
I'm not allowed to complain because I was born here. When I got my birth certificate it was with the understanding that I would be willing to endure 8 months of winter and 2 months of blistering heat each year. I have learned that you don't plant flowers until at least Memorial Day and that you CAN wear flip flops with a jacket and not look completely insane. However, those of you who are wearing shorts in the snow need to stop it. We don't care if you don't mind the cold...you look stupid. General rule of fashion is that when you need the heater on in the car and you are wearing a coat, shorts stay in the closet.
I'll have more seasonal fashion tips in the future. I'm sure you'll be grateful.

April Insider's Club

Check out how cute the April jewelry is!

So here's the thing. It's tax season. I say that a lot this time of year because it's kind of an excuse/explanation for my life right now. From about February 1st to April 15th, I suck at most everything. I'm a bad friend, a bad mother, a bad visiting teacher, a bad aunt, a bad school volunteer...the list goes on. But at least, I'm a rockin' accountant.
This year I've been trying to pull it together and still have dinner on the table each night since I'm still a newlywed and I want my husband to think he got a good deal when he married me. Next year I'll let the cat out of the bag and he can see what it's like to eat Campbell's soup for three months while I sit in my office and work.
Every year I make a list of things that our tax money will pay for. This year, after all the kids clothes, car registration, etc I'm hoping to redo my upstairs bathroom. This bathroom needs it bad because, like my furnace, it is the original 1950s stuff that came with the house. My problem is this...I'm cheap. Like, really cheap. Ridiculously cheap. I learned it from my parents. I come from cheapness on both sides.
I've decided to install a new vanity myself. Of course, by "myself" I mean, I will oversee my husband doing it. Hey, don't feel bad for him. I made dinner every night remember?
I'll update you on the bathroom which obviously won't get started until after tax season.

Moving Day

This is a little something I wrote last year when my brother was moving.

It’s moving day. Not for me. My brother and his wife are moving into their first house. I love moving day. Although again…not for me.
Moving day is like a family reunion. Your friends and family come over. Everyone looks like they’re ready to raise a barn wearing their old shoes, sweatshirts and jeans. All the cars and trucks pull up and people clear out their trunks and back seats so we can jam your stuff in there.

Then comes the good part. We get to go through all your stuff. We see everything you own. We know what is hiding in your couch when we pick it up and cookie crumbs fall out. We see what’s in the back of your freezer you forgot was there and notice that your movies are not alphabetized. We haul boxes back and forth… and then we start to goof off. We fake like we’re going to toss your favorite mirror over the balcony to get it down the stairs faster. We joke that we’re going to ride your mattress down three flights of stairs. We put your winter hats on and make fun of your ties. Volunteer helpers are never very serious. We don’t care that much because all of our stuff is at home waiting for us to come relax. There’s no sense of urgency there.

I like watching the men on moving day. Even men who normally aren’t very into the “man” stuff like hunting or watching football always seem to walk a little taller on moving day. The women defer to them to take the washer and dryer up or down the stairs and we let them carry twice as many items as us while we scurry back and forth. It’s not that we can’t do it. I mean, I moved myself and two kids twice as a single Mom by myself. I can carry a bookcase as well as anyone, but frankly I’d rather watch the guys do it. They’re very proud of themselves.

For some reason, someone always brings a small kid on moving day. Without fail, someone will bring a three year old along like it’s going to help. People hand the short one something like a roll of paper towels to carry to the truck and back and make them think they’re helping. And as darling as they are…I always wonder why someone thought it would be a good idea to bring them along.

Then before you know it, moving day is over and we’re all standing around waiting for our free pizza. I kinda wish I was moving now.