from the mixed-up files of a middle-aged mind

1. Actual weather conditions. Not the pansy steady 80-degree stuff you can always count on in places like San Diego, CA. We have real weather: rain, snow, sleet--and a wind that'll blow right through you. It's the kind of weather that makes one appreciate an occasional vacation to places like San Diego, CA. 2. Driven snow. I used to think of it only as the snow flyin' in those white-out, white-knuckle driving situations, but the product is that beautifully drifting snow that seems too perfect to have been formed at random. 3. Extra refrigerator space. Yeah, I like storing my 2-liter soda bottles, a crockpot full of soup--or whatever else is too big or bulky to fit in my fridge--just right outside my kitchen door on my deck. 4. Cold clear water. Every summer I secretly lament the fact I don't have a water and ice machine handily provided in my refrigerator. Every winter I enjoy glasses full of ice cold water right from the tap and I am perfectly content with what I h...

A few Christmases ago I got it into my head that I needed three things. 1). A winter coat for my daughter. Not a new coat--because I was trying to teach her a lesson for having misplaced the most warm and beautiful fur-trimmed robin egg blue coat (that I had had my eye on all the winter before and played my cards just right to grab at the very last moment and at the very best clearance price)--but something that would keep her relatively warm through the winter. 2). A pool table. Yes, I know pool tables don't just fall from the sky. But my boys were turning into teenagers and they needed something to do for fun with their friends since we don't own a trampoline or a swimming pool or the latest Nintendo. and 3). Well, my memory is usually a little cloudy about three, but it might have been an outdoor basketball standard. See reason for wanting item two. So I kept wishing for these three things to just magically appear. And guess what. They did. Two different neighbors handed dow...

I keep starting a blog about the interesting experiences I have caring for my aged and dear grandparents three mornings a week, but I can never get past the title. I want to share my observations in a general way--there are moments that are both poignant and amusing--without being specific enough to be disrespectful to the individuals involved. (Many good lines from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" come to mind, but they would, of course, be wholly inappropriate.) So I decided to tell this story through the titles with which it could begin. 1. "Old Age Ain't for Sissies" Grandpa, who has maintained his keen sense of humor long for nearly 97 years, says this to my husband on a regular basis. At first I just laughed when I heard this. But as I have witnessed firsthand the increasing humilities and decreasing of such hard-won independence that are inherent in growing old, I am no longer amused. 2. "Waiting to Die" It gives one an entirely new persp...

In applying to be a chaperone for a high school choir tour, I am being asked to evaluate myself based on some interesting criteria. Some of it has to do with being a responsible adult. I think I can fudge my way through those tough questions. But the part that's got me stuck is the section that deals with, in essence, being cool enough not to ruin the tour for the kids. It got me thinking... I finally came to the realization this morning, that, despite my best efforts to the contrary, I am a geek. Of course I've the clues have been evident all along, some subtle, some not so much. Like those times when you say something that sounds socially acceptable in your head, but comes out all wrong and leaves you feeling stupid. It doesn't even matter if no one else noticed it was uncool. You still scream at yourself in your head, "I am the biggest geek" and bang your sorry head into the wall over and over and over (one of the first signs of geekness, to be sure). Maybe the...

So this morning I'm lying in bed trying to bring my 6-year-old back into consciousness so he can get to school on time. He wakes up and we get in some good cuddle time (especially appreciated because two of my other kids aren't approachable even with a ten-foot pole). He looks up at me and says, "Mom, how did you get to be so buff?" I laughed (and those of you who know me are undoubtedly laughing even harder). My buff days have been over for about 16 years (age of oldest child), when I quickly realized that if I had a few moments for myself during the day they had better be spent in a sanity preserving catnap, not doling out my last drop of energy on a treadmill. (Which was fine, because we've never actually owned a treadmill.) About 20 years ago I did manage to find two hours in the day to work out. Back then it was still all about me. I wasn't responsible for anyone else (or their tightly packed schedules). I could do whatever I wanted with my designated 24 ...

As I woke up this morning I realized that instead of dreaming I had been blogging...in my sleep. All I remember is looking at another one of kactiguy's great sketches, which for some reason compelled me to write a cheeky comment about how sleeping under the stars is overrated. What woke me up was the startling realization that I was using italics in my blog--in real life I don't know how to italicize in blogwrit. Anyhow, I'm wondering if blogging in my sleep isn't a sign I may be spending too much time in blogworld. (The last time I remember trying to do something real in my sleep was when I was working two full-time jobs. I was a hoe-r by day and I worked in a pizza joint by night. Pulling weeds in one's sleep actually sends one into a deeper sleep, but frantically trying to take a pizza order in one's pajamas is a little disconcerting.) I guess one can only put off doing yesterday's dishes so long before they become last week's dishes. It would be trag...

School starts in less than a week and although returning to some semblance of a routine appeals to me, there is one thing I am not looking forward to...getting two teenagers, both teeming with testosterone, out of bed in time for them to arrive at Provo High by 7:30AM. I am one of those unfortunate mothers cursed by the mixed-up-genes fates, who I imagine take great delight in my situation. First Son, the grumpy one, can't get out of bed (even after knock down drag out battles with his mother) and--being the budding metrosexual he is--requires an exact and exorbitant amount of time in the shower, grooming his hair, chewing his french toast and then brushing his teeth and gargling mouthwash for the requisite 2 minutes! Second Son--the previously (till the hormones took over) cheerful one--can get out of bed and in and out of the shower in a flash and be out the door somewhere between zero and ten minutes, not caring at all about the end results. Of course any other genetic balance o...

Yesterday I was talking to a real rarity--a woman who has remained a stay-at-home mom even after all her kids have been in school for some time now. She is also rarity because she's one of the first people who hasn't asked me what I'm going to do now that all my kids will be in school full-time this year. To be fair, this is a question I have asked myself a hundred times (or more) over the past year in anticipation of this major milestone in my life. But there are several implications in this question and the resulting discussion that make me wonder if this milestone must necessarily become a turning point. The first is that all of a sudden motherhood isn't such a huge job and I have time for something like, I don't know--another career--in my life. The second is that my kids somehow don't need a full-time mother any more. The last--and the one that perhaps disturbs me the most--is that I can't/won't be contributing to society if I don't get some kin...

This past weekend I had two--not just one--but two family reunions to attend. It had been one tough week at our house (more on that later, maybe, but I prefer to live in the land of the light and mundane rather than the dark and dramatic) and by Friday afternoon I wasn't feeling up to anything more than curling up in bed and turning the world away for a few days. But duty to family will drag one to do just about anything, so we left a kitchen full of dirty dishes, hopped in the dirty mini-van--completely ill prepared for two days of camping--and just drove. I'm glad I did. We stopped at my dad(deceased for 20 years, but the product of a very big and connected family of almost 250)'s family reunion first, on the way to my husband's immediate family reunion out by Moon Lake. As I made the rounds to say hello to my favorite incarnations of what I remember about my dad, I found myself buoyed up by the enthusiastic hugs and genuine pleasure they expressed over our arrival. A...

As a child, I always wanted to grow up to be a blogger. But it wasn't until I was required to do so in order to post on Lorien's amusing anecdote about poop (so happy that finally, thanks to the wonders of the Internet, these types of highly entertaining stories are no longer confined to venues such as the Regis and Kelly show), that I finally had the opportunity. Since it's after midnight and I get a little too punchy when I'm sleep-deprived, I'll cut this first entry short. We'll see what I feel like ranting, raving or rambling about on Monday.