Sanity Is Overrated

Fail

2011-02-28T01:32:00.003-07:00

I SUPER SUCK! I've lost my ability to blog...
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In my defense, I'm in a funk. A deep and ugly one. Everything is suffering. Work. Home. Relationships. Everything. This is a divorce update post (since everyone wants to know) so warning in advance. It's after 1:00 AM. I have to be to work in a few hours. I should be asleep. Instead I am awake and in a panic about my life.
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I am fooling myself into believing that when my divorce is final that the gaping hole in my heart will heal and my funk will end. I'm fooling myself, but it's all I have. We've filed for divorce. And by "we" I mean "me". I filed. Did you know you can get divorced for $338 dollars online in the State of Utah? We easily divided up everything. I took the equity (about $60K worth if you take out the $20K rolled from my first Sunset house) and ALL the debt (all $68K worth, not including the mortgage I pay). It's a win/win. This is my second divorce and I took all the debt in my first divorce too. Took me almost 4 years to pay it off. This one will hopefully be quicker than that. I'm motivated to pay it off. We divided up the cars and property without a fight. It was smooth and uneventful. Since we each have a child there is no child support paid. After you add in all Chad's income, our incomes aren't that far apart. Everyone assumes I make a ton more than him, but I really don't and he's seen the figures and agrees. It's so simple. Too simple. Too easy to get divorced. It should be harder. I filed for divorce in an hour and 10 minutes on a computer. Seven years of marriage done in an hour and 10 minutes on a freaking computer. Chad and I get along mostly well. He's lobbed a few grenades at me (which he admits), but I can look at myself in the mirror and be proud of the road I have taken. I'm easy to divorce and a great ex-wife. Maybe that's part of my problem.....
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So here's the thing: Divorce sucks. All day every day. It's hard on kids, moms, employers, and all involved. I hate being alone every day, hour, minute. I'm so glad for friends and family who have held me tightly and not let me wallow. At least not wallow too much. There has still been a great deal of wallowing, but I'm not drowning in it. I just hate this. I hate feeling left. I hate feeling divorced. I hate that I'm 40 and too old for this *&%$. I hate that my kids have to do this again. I hope that they won't follow my road. I hope they do better than me. I hope we all figure it out. I feel like my life didn't just break, it shattered like a fragile vase dropped from the top of a skyscraper. And I feel like I'm walking on the broken glass. It kind of totally super sucks.
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Don't get all freaked out. I'm fine. Actually fabulous. At least I'm on my way to fabulous. So enjoy the lyrics of my life. Caveat: There is a line about taking me back that no one should read ANYTHING into. Not the intent of this song. This is my life (except that line):

I'm kinda done with broken glass...... I need to stop analysing it and picking up the pieces one by one and analysing them. I keep cutting myself by staying in the broken glass. I need to move the hell on and get away from the shattered pieces. It's not good for anyone for me to stay in the glass. So that's my challenge this week. DEAR KYANN: STOP WALKING ON BROKEN GLASS!!!!!
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Sorry for the divorce downer, but this is my journal and I needed to vent. Thanks. Also my intent is not to say anything negative about Chad. Ever. You'll never hear me badmouth him. Chad is fabulous. He's a great guy and I wish him every happiness. I'm just detailing my journey in my blog. My divorce is part of my journey.

Who I Am and Who I Am Not

2011-02-19T12:17:00.005-07:00

This is who I am: Niagara Falls This is who I am NOT: Mississippi River

Breaking it down:

1. I woke up at 40 years old and stopped pretending to be someone I am not. I am Niagara Falls. I have always been Niagara Falls. This makes me very different, like an outsider, and so I tried to be more like the Mississippi River.

2. The Mississippi River is beautiful. It flows with purpose to the ocean. It flows slowly, meandering, touching it's banks, and bringing life to the soil around it. It moves always, but moves with a fluid softness.

3. Niagara Falls is unmistakable, immense, crashing, tumbling, and unleashing raw energy. It hisses and roars as if possessed as it moves 150,000 gallons per second. It throws clouds and billows from a churning cauldron below. The moving water creates a magnetism that sucks you closer before you recoil in fear.

4. I am Niagara Falls.

5. I always wanted to be the Mississippi River.

6. I pretended to be the Mississippi for years. Fighting my Niagara nature. Stuffing it down. Forcing it to "be quiet" and "stop moving" because it's not how nice girls act. It's not how women behave in my culture, religion, society, world.
7. But no more.

8. I am freaking Niagara Falls. And it works for me. And when I live true to it, amazing things occur.

9. So I'm not pretending or stuffing any longer. I will always love the Mississippi and the place it holds. People need the Mississippi. I can't provide the Mississippi or fill that need. If you need the Mississippi you'll have to find it somewhere else.

10. I am Niagara Falls. I. Am. Niagara. Falls. And I will surround myself with people who like and need Niagara Falls. Maybe even finding someone who wants to go over it in a barrel.

Riverdancing With The Soccer Ball

2011-02-18T23:43:00.004-07:00

I play 30 and up co-ed indoor soccer. Look who is on the boards:
You can't really see it so let me blow it up for you:
Busting the truth out:
1. Do you see me?

2. I'm ranked #10 in the league. The very bottom name. But I'm freaking ranked!!!

3. There are 6 teams in the league. Each team has at least 12 players. That means there are at least 72 players in my league. And I'm 10th of 72.

4. The session is over. I finished the session at 10th. This was after all the games.

5. Four of the top ten players are on my team ES3. ES3 is a defense contractor that sponsors us so we don't have to pay to play. Which is very nice. Thanks ES3!

6. My "A" is little, but I'm used to it. The spelling of my name is KyAnn not Kyann.

7. Freaking Jennifer Hancock has 27 points. I only had 10.

8. I didn't get sporty until I turned 36. I never played sports until I turned 36.

9. I love soccer. I genuinely love it. It's rough. I get hurt. I fall down. I get kicked. But I love it. I love chasing that black and white ball and kicking it around.

10. Most things get better when I kick them.

11. Nice to know that even divorced I am still scoring. :) That was bad...

Will Work for Pizza

2011-02-17T19:22:00.002-07:00

Pizza for the office:Breakdown:
1. My employees are the best employees in the world. Hands down. I am blessed to work in a job I love so much that I would do it for free. Really.
2. My fabulous employees recently moved out of my building so we could get new cubicle furniture. The furniture is installed and they moved back in.
3. To celebrate the moves and apologize for all the turmoil it created we bought a crap ton of pizza. I'm not sure what a crap ton converts to in metric units.
4. Because nothing says thank you like fat saturated bread soaked in sauce and covered in meat and dead vegetation.
5. There was not a crumb left over. We are pizzatarians. We ate this many pizzas in less than 10 minutes:

Crayons Could Melt On Us For All I Care

2011-02-16T16:54:00.004-07:00

This is what Shayla and I have been doing: 1. We got the coloring books for Valentine's Day.
2. The colored page was done by my awesome 6 year old who is an awesome colorer.
3. I am in the other book and had just finished a page and turned to a fresh one when I took the picture. In hindsight I should've left the page unturned for a better shot. Oh well. Or maybe the blank page is symbolic.
4. I love that little shoes are kicked off and crayons are spread all over the rug.
5. I actually prefer to dump all my crayons into a big bowl instead of leaving them in the box. Boxes are too rigid and organized. I wanna swirl my hand around in a sea of crayons and just toss them back in when I'm done.
6. Not to get all Dr. Phil on you, but people are like crayons. They color our lives. I don't necessarily need all 64 crayons to color one page, but it's nice to know I have them. I have favorites and repeats. But I need all the crayons. And right now I might not be the favorite color of my ex and my son, but I hope they might still somehow need me to complete their picture.

I See You; Not ICU

2011-02-15T10:17:00.002-07:00

My BFF Kristie and I have been friends over twenty five years. We are kindred spirits. Soul sisters. Connected in a deep, meaningful, forever way that only occurs with best friends. I called her on her birthday several times and got no answer. I figured she was out celebrating. Several hours later when I got the phone call from her husband that she was in critical condition in ICU, I raced immediately to her bedside. This is how we spent her birthday: About this picture:
1. Horrible, horrible, and horrible.
2. When I saw her, she was on life support. Life. Freaking. Support. Kristie did a triathlon. She is my age. She is not supposed to be on life support. I prayed and cried and demanded in her ear that she breathe. Bribed her. Threatened her. Pled with her.
3. This picture above was actually on the second day. The first day she was so unrecognizable I couldn't stand to take a picture. This photo above was after she rallied and ripped out her own intubation tube. Intubation is for suckers! Kris is an emergency room nurse in real life and knew how to get it out. She'd pulled at it so they'd tied her to the bed. She shimmied down and pulled it out anyway. I love that about her!!!
4. She had a minor outpatient medical procedure and developed blood clots that were in her lungs. She was in BAD shape. We totally could have lost her.
5. She fought and fought hard. I visited her every single day in ICU (5 days total).
6. I love this woman. I don't have a memory without her in it. I need her.
7. Every day she got better and better and better. Her eyes were swollen and had a hard time focusing so she asked me to bring her an eyepatch so she could cover one eye. I did. Her sweet husband did too. So we had two eyepatches and we wore them as ICU pirates.

She's home now, back to normal, and I am so grateful. I'm grateful for friends. And hospitals. And lungs that fill with air. Kristie, if you ever scare me like that again I will not hesitate to beat your a$$. :)

Madness Takes It's Toll, Have Exact Change Ready

2011-02-14T21:22:00.003-07:00

Shirt on couch.The 411 on the photo:
1. This is the shirt. The shirt. You've heard about the shirt, right? I've been in this shirt almost every day since my ex left me on November 26, 2010. I was actually wearing it right before he left (I was actually naked in the tub when he went out the door and didn't even know he'd gone...) and in a weird psychological twist, I felt if I left it on indefinitely I could pretend everything was normal. I thought the shirt would bring him home. Back to me. I clung to the shirt hoping that it was a bad dream that I would wake up from.
2. I wore it for months. I knew I had a problem when I would come home from work and wash it during the day so it would be ready for me to wear when I got home from work. The minute I got off work the shirt would go on and stay on all night. I slept in the shirt. I cried in the shirt. A lot.
3. Multiple friends tried to get me out of the shirt. Thank you. You know who you are and thank you.
4. Are you hearing me? I wore THE SAME SHIRT EVERY DAY FOR OVER MONTHS. "Hello, Psych Ward, this is KyAnn, can you come pick me up?"
5. But today I am ready to give up the shirt. So I gave it to my friend. To hold for me. And keep out of my life until I am in a place where I can wear it again without the attached memories. And I'm pretty proud of me. That chapter of my life was ripped from me and it is over and I'm really (finally) liking KyAnn 3.0.
6. And I cannot believe how lucky I am. I had the best Valentine's Day that I have EVER had.
7. It's not about how much you have, how much you know, or what you do. It's about how well you love. Love is what matters most. Learn that sooner than me. I was 40 before I figured that out. Love who you love. Love them big and hard. Make sure you never leave them. Love doesn't leave.
8. Goodbye shirt. I don't need you anymore.

Mixed Martial Arts and Crafts

2011-02-13T13:27:00.003-07:00

I have been a sucky blogger lately.
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I got invited by a friend to go to the MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) Fights in Salt Lake. Since we all know my favorite word is "Yes" I totally went. I was super hesitant since I'm a non-violent, non-fighting type of a gal. But I have to admit this was a freaking riot and really fun.
Let me break this down for you:

1. The people watching was awesome at the event. Seriously. Look at the hair dos. And hair don'ts.

2. About dead center is a toddler. Lots of people brought their kids. To. The. Fights. Really?!? These are the "my kid can beat up your honor student" people.

3. It was like Harbor Freight with fights.

4. There was a lot more hugging than hitting. The fighters hugged a lot. They hugged their whole crew before the fight. They hugged their opponent during the fight. They hugged after the fight. Massive amounts of hugs occurred. I found that odd.

5. I also played electronic darts for the first time (I won) and got a ticket for not coming to a complete stop at flashing red lights on the way home.

Let Go Or Be Dragged

2011-01-16T23:45:00.000-07:00

I'm still struggling to find my blogging voice. When I don't blog it's not because I don't love you all, it's because I want my voice to be authentic and not tainted by the swirl of chaos that surrounds me right now.
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Here is the latest divorce news:
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* We have not officially filed. Mostly because I have my head in the sand. Deep in the sand. I need to dig it out and start the next chapter.
* I am in a deep funk which involves repetition. I usually LOATHE repetition. I like spontaneity, but my soul needs repetition right now so I'm indulging it. This is going to sound more crazy than it is, but I've been in the same shirt every day since he left me. I wear my normal work clothes during the day, but as soon as I'm home and in for the night I put on the same shirt. It's a blue hoodie from the Buffalo Roundup and sometimes I put it on inside out to shake things up. I wash the shirt. Although I wash it during the day so it will be ready for me to put on at night. I recently told my close friends about my shirt and asked them to get me out of the shirt. They are trying, but as I type these words right now I am in the same shirt. It's a process. For now I'm in the same shirt. If I'm still in it in 6 months, I'll call you all over for the intervention.
* I usually read 2-3 books a month. In the first 6 weeks after he left I read 14 books. 14 books in 6 weeks! I bought 16 more from Amazon.com and I'm burning through them too. I only read non-fiction (mostly self improvement, new age, and business books). I hate fiction. I'm reading so much because it allows me to think with someone's brain other than my own (my own brain is not to be trusted as it has led me astray more than once and I'm angry with it for being so stupid). Also since I am alone, reading is really the only thing I'm doing in my bed. :)
* I am learning how to live alone. I put transmission fluid in the car, fixed a broken door, and take out the trash. Rolling those craptastically huge cans to the curb every week is my least favorite task on planet Earth. I HATE those huge black cans, it is seriously the worst part of being divorced.
* I made a bet for a thousand dollars that I will never get married again. Ever. A grand. For real. Real bet with someone who will make me pay. I do not intend to lose this bet. For me, on a scale of one to ten of things I don't believe in, true love rates eighth, right behind the Easter Bunny.
* I have conquered the bills. He always paid the bills and I didn't know what bills even existed (honestly I had NO clue). I know what bills I have, have converted most to automatic bill pay, and learned to lick stamps to mail the others.
* I have made loads of new friends and found a great support group. I have also pulled closer to my old friends. And they are loving and nurturing and supportive. I am blessed. They are the neosporin and band-aids covering my soul wounds.
To get my mind off my life, Pleshette and I went indoor skydiving.

It was fun, although not nearly as cool as jumping out of a real airplane. I much prefer the real airplane and freefall. This is me and the instructor in the air tube. You have to have the instructor in at all times. This is us up high and him ensuring that I don't Willy Wonka up the tube and into outer space. Christmas came and went in a sad blur. I only took 2 pictures and here they are. I always take a ton of pictures, but somehow it never occurred to me to take pictures on Christmas morning. These are my kids after they all decorated the tree.

This is me at work with one of my employees who is dressed as Santa.That's all the Christmas pics I have. Paige had a party with her FFA friends at our house. This was the site at my front door. She hangs with the hicks. :)

My kids ran in to my office with me and posed on part of an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile. They are such dorks. And I love it.

This cracks me up.

My last post was on things I didn't know. I've learned a few things and here's what I know for sure although I'm jaded right now. And it's ok for right now. I'm practicing living in the present moment instead of careening around in my head like I usually do. I am working on humility and a willingness to return to myself over and over and over. I'm trying to be interested in what's really happening here, right now, without the overlay of my past. I'm discovering my internal landscape and have found it is NOT strewn with land mines like I thought it might be. I'm thrilled to find that EVERYTHING is truly workable and I am in fact lovable and worthy of love. And now that I have discovered these things during these past few weeks that I have been alone, I don't want to go back to the way I lived before.....

I Don't Know, But I'm Figuring It Out

2010-12-24T10:51:00.004-07:00

I've been absent, mostly because I didn't know how to start this blog post. After much thought I still don't know how to start this blog post, so I'm starting with a list of things I don't know.
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Things KyAnn Does Not Know:
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1. Is Big Bird a boy or a girl?
2. What do people in China call their good plates?
3. What are Preparation A through Preparation G?
4. What happens to an 18 hour bra after 18 hours?
5. Did that screwdriver really belong to Phillip?
6. Am I going to be ok?

The last question is the one that plagues me and keeps me awake at night. I vacillate wildly between "I am going to be ok" and "I will never be ok again". Mostly I hoover nearer to "I'm going to be ok". You see my husband moved out a month ago tomorrow (I did tell him to "leave me the hell alone" before he left) and we are getting a divorce. This shook me to my core even though it was not unexpected. Our marriage was an unhappy one for the last few years. This blog is my journal and my cathartic release. I have missed it. I've missed expressing myself here. But I did not want to speak until I was ready. I do not want to use this forum to place blame (although know that I am clearly responsible for 50% and I own my half). I won't say anything that isn't true. I like my soon to be ex husband. He's a good man. He deserves to be happy. And I'm going to be ok. In fact, I'm going to be fabulous (eventually). I'm grateful for good friends and family who have literally saved me and taught me new ways to think. It took me until I was 40 years old to learn that I am responsible for my reactions and my choices. It's all I am in charge of so I'm taking full advantage of my power here. I choose happy. I choose easy. I choose release. I choose joy. I am also grateful for the men of Hinder, Sick Puppies, Seether, Skillet, and My Chemical Romance (they are musical groups Mom) for saving me. I am in an angry music phase and while I don't want to get stuck here, it's a very good place for me to be right now. I listen to this song called "I'm Not Ok" 127 times every day. I love it. I love that he changes to ok in the middle and then back to not ok. It is my anthem. For now. And I am ok, it's just a song.

I didn't put anything really angry on here for fear you'd all drive over to my house. This one is by the same band as above. My Chemical Romance. I love them. They are coming in concert in April 8th and I am counting the days until I can see them live. If you want to come let me know. The words "I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone" sooth me. As angry as this song seems, the words are beautiful and I am soothed by them.

I sing this song all day in my head. It am comforted by it. I am going to be ok. I am fine. I am abundant. I am whole.

OMHell! Finally! The Wedding Pictures!

2010-12-12T15:49:00.000-07:00

This post has taken me a lll-ooo-nnn-ggg time to do because I wanted to post all the wedding pics in sequence with funny stories and wisdom. It ain't happenin'. We'll both be til next Christmas waiting for me. So I'm a gal with a Plan B: Throw all the pic up in random sequence and hope for the best. You can go quickly and get the gist. Bride and Groom. My daughter Jill and my new son-in-law Devin. Can we stand that I am old enough to have a son-in-law? And because the funny gene runs deep in our family, we get gems like this: I LOVE IT WITH ALL MY HEART!
And gems like this. This is actually the only shot I have of my three oldest daughters from the whole wedding. I'm thinking 8 x 10? Paige, Carrie, and Jill.Mom's. Jody, mom of the groom, and me, mom of the bride.

My entire immediate family except Mike. Look how cute the bridesmaids dresses are. $13.99 each on clearance at JCPenney.com. When I speak of family, this is who I speak of.

Decorations at the reception. I warned you these pics were random. We had pics of Jill and Dev all over the reception. I love this shot of them.

The cake. I'm sad that you can't see the huge stump it was on. The cake is on a two foot tall stump.

My beautiful daughter...

This is an awesome shot and I love it! Coming down the aisle after gettin' wedlocked.

My two biggest blog fans, my nieces Madi and Grace and my Dad.

They are so freaking cute together.

The wedding transportation was provided by Classic Rides Utah (google them or I can get you the info). They chose the 1953 Packard. It was so reasonable and a lot of fun for pictures. They have a ton of cars to choose from. In front of the chapel at Hill AFB Museum where they were married. If you look close you can see Jill's specially ordered all white converse shoes that she got married in.

We hired a DJ and there were 100 people on the dance floor all night. It was a riot! The freshlyweds during a slow dance.

The sign outside the base chapel where they have spelled both bride's name and groom's name wrong and have the incorrect time. They offered to change it, but we thought it was funny.

Our flowergirls LOVED the DJ and danced the night away.

Cute as heck!

Love this one in the car with the airplanes in the background!

The beautiful bridesmaid below is one of my favorite people on planet Earth! Her name is Shannon and she lives about 5 houses away from me. She's 11 and she's just beaten cancer for the second time. She was supposed to be a bridesmaid in her cousins wedding but got graft vs host disease following a bone marrow transplant and was hospitalized during that wedding. She was sooo sad. Jill and I love her and her mom and Jill told Shannon if she could get well and get out of the hospital that she would LOVE to have Shannon be in her wedding. The other weird part was remember how I told you I bought the dresses on clearance for $13.99. When I went to check out online I noticed there was one remaining dress in stock. I thought we could use the fabric for headbands so I purchased the last dress. It ended up fitting Shannon perfectly! I bought the dresses BEFORE we invited Shannon. Miracle. And it made this beautiful girl so happy.

Close up of the converse shoes and the Packard hubcap.

Totally random order. Throwing the bouquet.

Devin cutting the wedding cake with an axe. Knives are for sissys.

Feeding her cake. No cake smearing. What a good guy.

Sorry for all the shots. I love them.

Devin with the bridesmaids.

This shot of my ex-husband Matt cracks me up.

I'm telling you the car made for some fun pics.

The bride is up. We don't like normal pictures.

The groom is up...

They wuv each other.

They really wuv each other.

They really really really wuv each other.

Paige, Devin, Carrie, and ShaylaWith the balloons floating away.
My girlie and I. I just gave birth to her. How can she be married? I am so proud of her.

Jill's mom and dad. My cute ex-husband Matt and I giving the 1 down 3 to go signal.

Jill and I in classic form.

You may now kiss the bride. This should be near the top. I warned you, random order.....

Last one. I love them all to much. And I am so happy I finally got them up for you all to see.

Chapter 1: I Buy My Baby A Wedding Dress

2010-12-03T11:36:00.002-07:00

I am finally getting around to posting Jill's Bridal photos. It's been a hullava week and I'll tell you all about it later. Lets kick off this post by reminding you that I am not old enough to have children this old despite the fact that half the items in my shopping cart say "For fast relief" and all my favorite music is in the bargain bin. So remember how youthful I am as we look together at some be-U-ta-ful pictures of my oldest daughter Jill. This one got blown up into a 16 x 20 print.I love love love the red leaves. And I love love love this girl.

My sister-in-law Sarah took these (Sarah and Brett on the family blogroll) in Logan. The leaves are spectacular and I was forbidden from putting them on my blog sooner because Jill didn't want Devin to see her dress. The backgrounds are *almost* as beautiful as the bride.

Another one...

I really like this one.

God did a fabulous job providing the photo backdrops.

I really love this one with the bridge.

I'm kind of a proud momma.... :)

This one just makes me smile.

Those are some of the best bridals. We don't have a bad shot. I'll post the wedding pics soon.

Lady and the Tramps

2010-11-26T19:18:00.005-07:00

My oldest daughter gets married tomorrow. Everything is ready. Everything is perfect. The Universe and I have discussed how wonderful and beautiful and fabulous the day is going to be. We are blessed.

There was only one thing remaining on my pre-wedding to-do list. And we just did it a few moments ago. Tramp stamps!!! Relax they are temporary tattoos. Left to right: My daughter Carrie, Me, bridesmaids Alexis and Marissa.
Note to Self: Do not stand next to your size 2 daughter for photos of your butt. Next time stand next to something bigger than your butt. Like the Rocky Mountains.
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I'll post mega wedding photos soon. Hugs to you all!

If A Leper Gives You The Finger, Do You Have To Give It Back?

2010-11-20T12:36:00.002-07:00

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I disagree because I think this one is worth at least a billion. This is our new family photo. If you get a Christmas Card from me, act surprised because this will be the photo that accompanies your Christmas card/letter. I love it. A lot. I love it with a mighty love. I love that I pass out fake noses and my kids all say "cool" and put them on. This is us at our finest: We had our annual family photos. Jill is getting married in a few days and my family is blissfully expanding. While I still had just my five little Indians I wanted to get one more family photo shoot. A photo shoot with my family is awesome. It produces these outstanding gems. I love this photo of Carrie and Jill. Made me laugh. Bonus points are always given for making me laugh. I value humor. It's really important to me. Recently someone asked asked me if it was more important to be funny or nice? I responded after some thought, "Nice. But let's make a pact to always be both, that's the best." I believe that. And this is the result. Children who end up with shots like this for family pictures. And a mom who prints them out in 8 x 10's and hangs them on the wall.

These five people in the photo below are the only thing I've ever done right. I am abysmal failure after abysmal failure, except for these five. These people are hands down the favorite part of my world and I love this photo of them:

Shayla and the dogs. This little gal has the loosest tooth in this picture. It is barely hanging on. I want to yank it out so badly, but she won't let me near it. Dingo (my border collie) looks like he's smiling.

Picture of my sweet Carrie who is a humor goddess.

We took these family photos at the train station. You aren't supposed to climb on the trains, but Carrie quickly mountain-goated to the top of an engine and began to dance. I love the spirit of my child that was captured in this picture!

The first photo Carrie and Mike had together was a back to back shot when they were 5 and 7. Here they are 14 and 16 and I still make them do the back to back. Carrie and her little brother who is WAY taller than she is.

My Mikey. My son is 14 and 6 feet tall. He is hilarious and smart and delightful.

Paige is 17. She's as sweet as she is pretty and my best helper.

Our family tree has some pretty twisted roots. I tell my kids that I never grew up, I only learned how to act in public. This is our funny shot for our funny wall. I have a whole wall of photos downstairs in the game room that are funny shots of us. I started it when the kids were little and every time we have a family picture of individual pictures, we get a funny shot to make into an 8x10 for the wall. Come over and see it sometime. This is runner up for the Christmas card. I love the Eight is Enough shot. I love it heaps.

My whole fam damily.Another one... In my 2 inch tall healed boot I am the same height as my two oldest daughters and my son. 3 of my 5 kids are about 6 feet tall.

And more... My dogs aren't in this one so I don't like it as much.

My sister in law Sarah took these and she did such a good job. I LOVE the pictures. I love Shayla's hands on hips pose.

And that is our family photo shoot for 2010.

I Don't Get Mad, I Get Stabby :)

2010-11-13T18:52:00.008-07:00

Disclaimer: Pardon me if I am "off" for this blog post. I am "off" because I am pissed as hell because I am BALD. Practically. I had my hair cut at a very posh salon and I have (no lie) more hair on my legs than remaining on my head. I actually cried over my haircut. My daughter's wedding is in two weeks. There is no way it will grow back in time. My daughter and I have (er, had) the same color of hair. She informed me that I would have to have my hair darkened before the wedding so we wouldn't look alike (this is a bad thing in her mind). I have a friend who has beautiful hair that always looks super fabulously cute and I asked her who cut her hair. She told me and I made an appointment. I have THICK hair. Really thick. I have 30 pounds of hair. Well, I HAD thick hair. This stylist cut my hair and turned me so I wasn't looking at the mirror. Had no idea what she was doing. She cut. She got aggressive with the thinning sheers and my 30 pounds of hair is down to 2 pounds. It is thin, stupidly layered (which I can't fix because there isn't enough hair left to cut to fix it), and a terrible color. I'm considering a wig. I actually looked online at wigs. I'm trying to find the positive. There is none. My friend goes to the same stylist and her hair is adorable mine is HIDEOUS!!! Not to be vindictive, but my hair is so bad and I am so upset that I wish as much pain on the stylist as she has caused me. An eye for an eye. It's in the Bible. I HATE MY HAIR! Can't be fixed. Has to grow. Sooooo bugged.
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Ok, enough about my horrible hair, let's catch you up on the other stuff. On Veteran's Day I took a hot date to a Vets Day dinner. I took my 93-year-old Grandpa. He wore his original uniform from the 1940's. Still fits him perfectly. Look how adorable he is.
Speaking of adorable, that is my thick hair, before the hideous haircut. Sigh. I am seriously heartsick about how bad my hair is. What am I going to do???
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Just realized I haven't put up the pics from Halloween yet. My teens didn't dress up. So I only sewed one costume this year. Shayla wanted to be WonderDog. So I made a dog costume with a cape. She was thrilled.
Cutest WonderDog EVER!

Ok, I'm going to try to recover from the travesty that occurred on my head. I'll come back and blog when I'm happier. :(

Technical Difficulties, We Now Join Our Regularly Scheduled Blog Currently In Progress

2010-11-07T08:31:00.005-07:00

Is it just me or is the font on my blog all jacked up and humongous? Does it always look this big? Is your font smaller or bigger than mine? Does size matter (in fonts, gutter brain)? Enquiring minds want to know...

Love Doesn't Make The World Go Round, Love Is What Makes The Ride Wothwhile

2010-11-05T18:09:00.005-06:00

Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl named Jill (who had a super hot mom, if I do say so myself)Jill fell completely in love with a handsome boy named Devin And they dated all through high school and for a year of college....

They are, and have always been, perfect for each other.

They got engaged in January of 2010 and Devin left for South Carolina and Texas to serve our country in the Army. Jill stayed in Utah working and going to college.

They miss each other a lot.....

Jill and Devin have tried on two other occasions to get married, but their requests to get Devin home were denied. :(

But great news!

Devin has been cleared and will fly home on Thanksgiving Thursday. On Friday they will get a marriage license and be fitted for a tux. On Saturday, November 27, 2010 they will FINALLY be able to get married. They next day, less than 24 hours after their wedding, Devin will fly back to Texas. Jill will stay here. They will get to be together in late January 2011 when Jill will move with Devin to his next base (We don't know where, yet). And then they will live happily ever after. So if I'm not around to blog a whole lot it's because I'm wedding planning like crazy....

Come On Buffalo, Bust A Move

2010-10-31T19:46:00.000-06:00

EVERYTHING HURTS! I am seriously in a lot of pain. Why? Because I spent all day on Friday trying to get these:Behind this:Riding this:
Disclaimer: I hope my thigh isn't really that big, but I suspect it might be. Damit. (please refer to the Blog Rules #3 and #4 on the right side of my Blog near the bottom) Let's circle back to the opening line of this post. Everything hurts. Why? I rode a horse for 8 hours. 8 freaking hours. On a horse. I repeat. 8. Hours. On. A. Horse. Back in the day, I could do that without a Bengay bath and Aleve/muscle relaxants for the next 2-3 days. But I'm old and my hips/back/knees are not acclimated. I'm sore. And not a little sore. A lot. But you know what? I absolutely am bummed that I have to wait a whole year to go on the ride with my Dad again. I love the annual Buffalo Roundup on Antelope Island. I can't wait to do it again! We moved 500 buffalo into the corrals to get shots. I went on the Buffalo Roundup with my Dad. Just he and I go every year. It's our Daddy Daughter Date. Me and my Dad:My favorite part of the Buffalo Roundup this year was meeting my new BFF Toni. Toni was there alone and we met in the first 5 minutes because she rides an Appaloosa and we ride Appy's. We rode the whole 8 hours together and we have so much in common. I suspect we were separated at birth. Most of the photos on this post were taken by Toni, she's a professional photographer. I seriously love her and you'll be seeing more of her. She's an adventure minded chick like me. She's in the white shirt on the left in the photo below. Toni, me, my Dad, Taryn's sister, and Taryn (who I know from Utah Backcountry Horsemen). Look at this shot while we were herding the Buff's. Buffalo are mean. Really mean. They charge horses and try to gore everything they see. It was a fun filled day avoiding being gored.The push up the hill. We had to drive all the buffalo up up up this big hill and over the top to come down the other side to the corrals. This is the first year we've gotten them all the way to the corrals in one day. The buffalo moved pretty well. Toni and I decided it was us that made them move so well. When I was little I wanted to be Annie Oakley when I grew up and I'm so excited that I get to throw on a pair of boots and Cowgirl Up every once and a while. Even if my butt hurts and I walk funny for a few days afterward...

I Like Poetry, Long Walks On the Beach, And Poking Dead Things With Sticks

2010-10-27T16:06:00.002-06:00

As we've discussed on the Blog before, Paige is a mega-dater. She dates. A lot. Which I like because she doesn't get too serious with one boy. I'm not knocking my beautiful daughter. I do love that she's such a prolific dater. But seriously. She's a Junior in High School and I'm concerned she will run out of boys and have to import prospects from neighbring schools. Here is the cycle of Paige's dating routine:

Week 1: OMG we have so much in common! I have eyes! You have eyes! Let's go out!
Week 2: "You are lame and there is way too much drama!"
Week 3: "I have to stay home and floss my cat."
Week 4: "If you hear the phone NOT ringing, it's me."

I'm not dissing her. I'm a fan of her revolving door of dating. That's how you learn who the boys who wear white hats are and who the boys who wear black hats are. Villians and heroes. Look for heroes. Don't settle. Look long and hard at each boy, look long and hard at yourself. Decide on your own. Don't use me as an example. Jill is a great example. Find someone who is equally weird. Be practical and romantic. If you are all practical, your marriage will have no soul. If you are all romance, your marriage will have no stability. Know what you are getting into. You can marry more money in 5 seconds than you can make in a lifetime. Rich is relative, make sure you agree on the definition. Understand what you are getting into. For better or worse. Because when you get in, you gotta go deep and completely and reliably. And even then you have to call on your faith in a higher force to hold you when you want to run. I didn't mean for this to turn into a lecture. Paige certainly shouldn't be thinking marriage. My older daughter Jill is getting married soon to a wonderful man who I adore. Bottomline: I pray that all my kids find Prince Charming (like Jill's finace), or in Mike's case Princess Charming, and live happily ever after.

In the meantime, DATE ON my little chickadee. Just don't expect me to remember their names. This is Paige and her Sadie Hawkin's date. This is Paige and her Homecoming Date. We got her dress on clearance for $35 and my Aunt Lona put sleeves on it.

Paige and faux-hawk boy.

*In my best Jeff Foxworthy twang*, "If your daughter wears a prom dress and rides a 4-wheeler... You might be a redneck!"

My Soul Was Removed To Make Room For All This Sarcasm

2010-10-25T20:00:00.006-06:00

My favorite band is Collective Soul. Period. Dot. I love them. And I'm not just a short term, flash-in-the-pan, fair weather lover either. I have staying power with Collective Soul. I love them with a mighty love. As part of my birthday celebration, many months ago I bought 4 tickets to see Collective Soul. I invited some friends (since hubs is hunting and can't be bugged) and 2 of them couldn't go. I thought I sold the tix, but my buyer backed out. Had a last minute dash to find people to go overnight to Wendover, Nevada with me to see Collective Soul. Ended up taking Pleshette (original invitee) and Lollie and her boyfriend, Bryan. Here is Pleshette, KyAnn and Lollie (our real names) looking pretty dang snazzy pre-concert. I am the tall friend. :)
I love that these two hang out with me even though I spontaneously break out in ninja moves. Lollie and B had a hot tub in their room so we checked it out. With our clothes on.

Back to Collective Soul. Focus. I love love love Ed Roland(the lead singer of the band)! EVEN CAPS LOCK DOES NOT EXPRESS THE MAGNITUDE OF MY LOVE!!! He's my dream man/celebrity crush. His music is like a therapist pumping out of my speakers. This was my 7th time seeing them in concert. I'm a big fan.I love him with an overpowering/intense lust. Chad understands that our marriage is considered null and void if Ed Roland ever takes a sudden interest in a loud, chunky, 40-year-old, redheaded Blogger. Have I mentioned that I love him?

I feel bad I couldn't take all of you to the concert, so I've done the next best thing. Videos. Please watch the following. And try to keep your lust to yourself, remember, he's MINE!

Collective Soul got their name from one of my favorite books The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. There is a line in the books that says "I knew what I was doing. I wanted power over a collective soul and I got it. A collective soul."

Top 10 Reasons Why I Have Been A Slacker Blogger:

2010-10-17T10:44:00.016-06:00

In the spirit of David Letterman (minus the public sex scandal) here are the reasons I have been an AWOL blogger. I don't usually explain myself and I kinda do what I want, but because we are so close, I will give you reasons/excuses.

1. I Have Been Sick

It seems germs, like everything else, find me irresistible. I was mucus-filled, hacking up my black lungs, and had a fever. It's important to note that I did NOT have a Bieber Fever. When I spoke I sounded like Barry White and/or an adult phone sex operator. I hate being sick. It makes me cuss like Mel Gibson. I am on antibiotics and feeling MUCH better. Thanksforyourconcern.

2. I Have Been Celebrating KyAnnukkah, My 8 Day And 8 Night Birthday Celebration

Whole other post and pictures to follow. Pinky promise.

3. I Have Been Hanging With My Fan-freaking-tastic Spawn

I know every thinks their kids are superduperawesome, but mine really are (except when I want to kill them). I've had a lot of kid stuff going on lately. Here is a pic of Carrie (middlest child) playing the piano and singing. Carrie has never had a piano lesson and she plays and sings beautifully. Before you call my Bish, that's henna on her hand. I love this free-spirited girl and her Guns and Roses t-shirt and blonde streaks. Carrie could give a crap less what anyone thinks about her and she is delightful. She sees the best in everyone.

4. We Have Been Doing Loads Of Family Crap

For example, we went to the State Fair, which is like a live version of http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/. God made creatures of all shapes and sizes and they all tried to shove it in the same size tube top and take it to the fair.We got our Big Yellow Slide fix. The top slider coming down is me, the one below me is Shayla (age 6). The slide attendant said, "Do you want her to ride on your lap?" She said, " NO WAY!!!" She was so insulted. Everyone else rode twice, we had two tickets left and so Shay and I did the final run. Shayla rode all 3 times by herself.We tried to get a single photo of a "Brown Chicken Brown Cow" but we couldn't get them both in the same shot. They were in different buildings and we didn't think we could pull off walking away with one (although if anyone could, we could...) So I give you two shots to make "Brown Chicken... ...Brown Cow"If you have no idea what I am talking about, please google "Brown Chicken Brown Cow" because it is a play on words on the music "Bow Chicka Wow Wow". We say it in our family to signify anything that is "sexy." If Shayla sees Chad and I kiss she says "Brown Chicken Brown Cow"

5. We've Had Birthday's Other Than Mine

Paige turned 17. This is her cake. You will notice that her name is spelled wrong. It's intentional. When she was 8 the bakery spelled her name wrong, so now we spell it like that on her cake every year. P-A-G-I-E, not Paige. It's our thing.Paige blowing out her candles. Shayla watching. Her cast is off now. Finally.Massive teenager parties at my house. This is about half the kids in a dog pile on my couch. Paige is in yellow. Teenagers are our future. This freaks me out a little. I hope to be a proud survivor of my kids adolescence

6. My Work and Home Computers Took A Perfectly Coordinated Dump

Concurrently, like synchronized PC swimmers, my work and home computers crashed. Seriously together. My work computer is still not back to normal, all my documents (Excel, PowerPoint, Word) are encrypted, by a top-secret encrypter program I use all the time, that has gone rogue. My home computer is a Steven King movie book to be written, inhabited by all sorts of electronic demons from hell. Despite a fresh coat of Norton 360 and new spyware software, every time it is scanned I get 82 new findings. I need an Exorcist. Message me if you know one.

7. We've Been Trying To Suck The Marrow Out Of The Last Bits Of Summer

Here is our last trip of the summer to Deep Creek with the Palfreymans. Scott, Kristie, Me, and Chad. I've known Kristie since 7th grade.We rode 4 wheelers.We climbed up in the trees and jumped onto rope swings.And we soared into the air on the swing. Shayla actually got clear up in and touched the trees behind her.

7. I Went To California For Work

I freaking love the ocean. California Negative: I flippin' hate the Katy Perry song about California Gurls. California Positive: Their Governor could totally kick my Governor's arse.

8. I Have Been Remiss In Making Blogging My Top Priority

If you'd like me to run some wind sprints for punishment I will. I understand this delinquency on my part will go down on my permanent record. I hope to be rehabilitated, Your Honor.

9. I Did Freakishly Large Amounts Of Car Shopping

Let's recap. My SUV was totalled by a doucher who hit me at 40 MPH while I was parked at a red light. This made me a pedestrian and required a new vehicle purchase. This was HORRIBLE. I hate shopping. I hate cars. I TURBO NAZI DEATH HATE car salesmen (unless you are one, and even then you'd have to convince me...) I test drove 62% of the SUVs on the Wasatch Front. I hated them all. I had three requirements to buy an SUV. 1) I have 5 kids and 2 dogs, so it has to seat at least 7 comfortably. 2) It MUST have heated leather seats. I'm at a place in my life that if my butt isn't warm, I'm not doing it. Non-negotiable. 3) It must have stealth. By that I mean I want to look like every other car on the road, nothing yellow or blue or stand outish. Why stealth? Cuz I like to blend and sneak. Car shopping is like entering the 7th ring of hell. I'm mad my car was smashed. I had to keep reminding myself that life is not fair. If it were Tom Selleck would be massaging my feet right now. Anyway this is what I bought:A 2008 Chrysler Aspen with a Hemi. It's bank robber fast. It has amazing bells and whistles and it needs a name.

10. I'm Out Of Reasons

But I will try to be the change I wish to see in the Blog.

I've Been Around The Sun 40 Times

2010-10-06T20:53:00.009-06:00

I am totally and COMPLETELY freaking out. Do I look older????? Say no. Cuz I am. Today is my freaking 40th Birthday. Oh. My. Hell. (Justified swear, I am 40, that calls for a cuss word.) I'm FORTY. Old people are FORTY!!!
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Look what my kids did to my rental car:
I can hear you honking! I know, I know, I need to buy a car. I haven't yet. I'm still in a rental. I'm working on it. It's hard... The middle window says "You sexy beast" Who's children are these? I thought the back window said "Ho", but it says "40".

When I got to work I found this... My work friends are awesome.Shayla and Paige at my birthday dinner.

Me at my birthday dinner. It has been a long day.

So here are my thoughts about 40.

Dear 40:

I'm 40. And I'm stressed. But also relieved because I'm in a better place physically, emotionally, and financially at 40 than I was at 30 or 20. This year I jumped out of an airplane for heavens sake. I still rock. Sort of.

When I look in the mirror I think, "Whoa, when did those under eye bags become double deckers?" I spackle on moisturizer and think "Soon I will be a basset hound." I work with and hang out with women who look 10 years younger than me (bee-otches). I've never been a beauty, but I am SUPER fun and pretty darn smart. I don't want to look young, I want to look GOOD for my age and feel good about it. I'm a work in progress. Beauty is not intrinsically linked to youth. My standard of beauty is more diverse, more middle of the road. I'm fine with the jowl. I can handle the wrinkles. I'm becoming more comfortable in my skin. I know that I have a bad body image of myself. I own it. I see myself as fat and unattractive. The intersection of age and looks is not a simple one for me.
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I'm at peace with 40. I'm me, only better. I have economic security, power, and independence. I have confidence in who I am and where I am in my life. I know me and I like me. I am very self aware of my goals, motivations, and expectations. I'm active and adventurous. I like to strive. I want to simultaneously french kiss and roundhouse kick life.

And I'm so scared that I'm going to blink and be 50. 40, symbolically, begins Act II in the play that is my life. Act I had ups and downs, Act II is going to kick ass. I'm going to encourage, love, and hope. I'm going to lift spirits. I'm going to stand for something larger than myself. I'm going to launch my children into lives of their own and watch the goodness that shines brilliantly in each of them. I'm going to LIVE MY FREAKING LIFE. Not watch it pass me by. I'm going to live loudly and with passion and purpose. I'm going to be and do what I always wanted to be and do. I'm going to rock 40. Try and keep up.

All my love,

Only now 40 and now even HOTTER (as if that were possible)

Sometimes There's Justice, Sometimes There's Just Us

2010-10-05T20:22:00.000-06:00

I went to Bikefest in Las Vegas last weekend. Bikefest is a gigantic super awesome motorcycle festival of fun. When I left I looked like this:When I came home I looked like this:

And my husband loved it. Have you seen such awesome before and after pictures? I was in the EXACT red shirt outfit above and my biking girlfriends told me I looked like a "Mom" and that I had to get some new threads, because I had to leave my Momness behind for the weekend. I love being a Mom. It's what I do, but I gotta admit, three days without my kids, not dressing like a Mom was pretty fun. I now own the black outfit. I bough super sexy black motorcycle chaps. CAN YOU STAND ME? I own chaps. Me. My shirt says Harley Davidson in sparkles and my belt sparkles. Black leather vest. Skull rag on my head. Oh and did I mention the freaking awesome chaps. They make my butt look kind of amazing!!!

And I'm just going to put it out there. Right at the beginning of the post. I want you all to know it. Judge me if you want. This is photo of me dancing with a homeless man in a red hat in Vegas. I just danced with him, I didn't go home to his box. Homeless. Without teeth and everything. I'm so proud...

Fighting with Darth Vader on Fremont Street. It looks like I'm hitting him in the junk. Pleshette hits high and I hit low. That's a fact. There is never a Jedi around when you need one.

At Manadalay Bay. Um, yeah, I'm refusing to quietly surrender to a quieter, gentler mid-life...

Rainey, Me, our horny friend, Pleshette, and Poppy. I had to buy the purple Harley shirt I am wearing so they didn't make fun of my Mom clothes... I am at a BIKER convention!!! When was the last time you did something for the first time?
Me and the horned man. He's got green crazy contacts.
Pleshette is painting a milk mustache on me. We were totally bored while waiting for our food to come...Got milk? This photo is totally straight-up BadA. I love it. The BadA is in the house rockin' on with her bad self. As a side note. My eyelashes are so freaking long in this photo when it is blown up. I've been using a product called Lilash that you get from the beauty supply. I've tried several other products like Revitalash. Lilash is the only one that works. It's $85 bucks, lasted me over 6 months, goes on at night like eyeliner before bed, and worth every penny. I've seriously had to trim my eyelashes because they are soooo long.

This is my super sexy biker boyfriend. (Most biker men look like this...) He asked me, "Does it bother you that I've had two heart attacks?" I said, "Nah, does it bother you that I've GIVEN two heart attacks?" He laughed so hard.

Helmets and Harley shirts. Much to the dismay of my baby sister and my Mom, I'm looking for a Harley to buy. I don't need a reason. I'll be safe. I choose to breathe life into all that I do. I want to use my life's journey to grasp EVERY moment. I want to square up my shoulders, pull up my boots, stand up my bike, and drive it like I mean it.

Elvis wig! On a scale of one to crazy, I'm in the red zone...

Photo with the Las Vegas motorcycle cops. I actually said to them, "Officer I'm breaking a law." They said, "What law?" I said, "Gravity." Blank stares from one and the other one busted up laughing.

All and all, I give Vegas Bikefest two thumbs way way way up.

How Is It That The Very Act Of Being Awake Calls My Sanity Into Question?

2010-09-30T17:20:00.001-06:00

Everyone who thinks my new welcome mat on my front porch is turbo amazing and wants to move in with me just to have this jumbo sized sliced of awesomeness greeting the neighbors, please manifest it.
I heart it. More than I should. It is my new favorite thing.
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And peeps, big news. Sit. Brace for impact. Assume the position. My 8 day and 8 night birthday celebration (I call it KyAnnukkah, like Hanukkah only ALL about me) kicks off tomorrow in Las Vegas. I'll post all about it as soon as I can. Gonna be 40 years old in a few days. *gasp* I've been around the sun 40 times. This last trip was totally my favorite. More later. I am, as we speak/type, in the airport waiting to depart. Be awesome.

Lumberjill Not Lumberjack

2010-09-25T22:17:00.015-06:00

I have a small lisp. Only when I talk. It would be cool/weird if I lisped when I was silent. I've always had said lisp. It makes me crazy, I hate to listen to recordings of myself and I could never make a living with my voice. (Adult phone conversations are NOT an option, but the lisp wouldn't be the thing that took them out of the running...Although I'm not saying I wouldn't be good at it...) Despite my slight speech impediment, I believe that my language, diction, tone, and certainly my volume (I'm freaking loud) are all clear and I am usually understood. That's why I was so shocked this week to find out that a group of people at my office misunderstood me and swore that I told them that I was a: L-O-G-G-E-R. They thought that I said I was a logger. Like a Lumberjack. Like frickin' Paul Bunyan. With a Blue Ox. Let's all agree that I would totally ROCK the plaid shirts. I am not a logger, I am a b-logger. Blogger. One who blogs. Add the "B". Sheesh. Can ya see me cutting down trees?!?
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Next subject. Keep the blog meetings coming. I am turbo loving them. Listen up yo. Bloggers are wicked awesome. Period. Dot. They are funny and warm and welcoming and wondrous. And I love them. I was invited to another blog dinner at Biaggis (I kept calling it Bee-otchees) at the Gateway. Check out the photos I STOLE from Holly's blog. From left to right:

Me!
Krista from Shades of Blonde
Jackie from House of Sarger
Holly from Diamond Potential
Lisa from Blue and Shoe
Shauna from Seeking Sisterhood

Jackie lives in Texas and was here in Utah to visit. We laughed our faces off. Jackie (on the end in light green) gave me one of the best blogging tips ever on her Blog months before I met her. She taught me how to back up my blog on the computer so if Blogspot glitches (like Wordpress did a few months ago) you don't lose everything. Do it. Takes 30 seconds. Here is the failproof, easy to follow link to learn how to back up your blog to your hard drive. Thanks Jackie. I love that we hit the Charlie's Angels pose. Holly's camera is like a million dollars. My shirt looks like 1970's bad TV reception and I am letting my inner dork shine through. And breaking news. Holly made me a button. Squeal. I've always wanted a button. ALWAYS. I seriously had a nerdgasm when I saw it. Look how cute it is. I want to lick it. Thanks Holly. I love love love it.

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If you are having a blog get together or want to meet up with me, let me know. I love meeting bloggers.

This Post Is By Popular Demand (Ok, Just The Demand Of One Person, But I'm Popular)

2010-09-19T15:37:00.015-06:00

One of the benefits of having teenagers, is that sometimes (Ok, frequently) when I don't feel like making dinner, I put my kids in YOYO Ops. YOYO Ops is a term I learned from F-16 pilots. It stands for You're On Your Own Operations. F-16's usually fly practice missions in teams. They are wingmen and watch out for each other and work together. If, for some reason, a pilot has to complete a mission alone, he/she (lots of female pilots) goes into YOYO Ops and does it all by themself. YOYO Ops dinners are more common than I would like at my house. When my kids go into YOYO Ops for dinner they make for themselves unrelated things. One will have a tuna fish sandwich and Eggo waffles on the same plate. Another will eat leftover casserole, string cheese, and a Hot Pocket. You get the point, unrelated things eaten together. This blog post is like YOYO Ops dinner. Many unrelated things on the same plate. I've had complaints in the past about long, blog vomit, unrelated blog posts (you know who you are), but I am putting myself in YOYO Ops and here comes a doozy of unrelated things on the same plate (post). I try to keep up. I blog as frequently as I can, but I take pictures and create awesomeness every single day so I get backlogged. When I get this behind I have to do a Drano type post to clear it out. If you are overwhelmed put your head between your knees or do what I do when I'm annoyed with your blog: Click the little red X in the top right. Hopefully this won't be too bad/long. I checked with George Zimmer to see if this was an Ok post. He said, "Suck it up you Wussy" and added the following:
I wanna hang out with George Zimmer. (Men's Warehouse Founder, if I lost you.) Like I TOTALLY want to meet him. Mostly because after everything that comes out of his mouth I want to add, "Freak Yes, I Guarantee It!"
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So without further ado, here is my blog vomit post. Stop when you get winded. Unfortunately this photo only captured Elvis' partial grope and not his full grab.

Next is Lavapallooza. A trip to Lava Hot Spring Idaho for a fun festival that was also a motorcycle rally. I KNOW! Can you believe I went to a biker gang rally? Me neither. It was super awesome and I had a riot. I stayed in this cabin overnight:

With these girls: Lollie, Pleshette, and Suzy. Pleshette is a legitimate motorcycle rider, the rest of us are posers. But super cool posers. We are the epic of epic epicness.Suzy and I switched places for this shot. I think we're pretty spiffy! We had so much fun at Lava Hot Springs. I won Supervisor of the Quarter at work for the immediate level, local level, and entire planet level. New trophies for my collection. I love my job. I love my employees. I love that I get to show up and do it every single day. I am honored that they think this highly of me. Cuz I'm kind of a dork...Carrie and I found this at Maverik Gas Station. And we were disturbed.My brother Wade turned 35. Happy Birffday to my favorite brother. He spent his birthday in Europe. Wade is the funniest person on Planet Earth. Hands down. He's also brave. And I love his freaking guts. And Wade got an extra special dose of awesomeness on his birthday this year. Because look who came on his birthday:

I'd like to introduce you to my new nephew, Logan Spencer Topik. He was born to my sister, Terra, who is in between Wade and I in birth order. And I know he's only three hours old in this photo, but I'm 99% sure that Logan has already picked his favorite Aunt. Just sayin'And look at the whole family. Grace, Madi, Dad, Mom, little Logan, and Carson. And I kinda HATE my sister for looking like a Rock Star after just pushing out a 9 pound 3 ounce baby.

While driving through the neighborhood I saw my son playing basketball with his friends. They were playing shirts and skins. My son was on the skins. I looked twice. Something was on his chest. I flipped a U-turn and went back to inspect. This is what I found:

Um, yeah, temporary tattoos from Wal-Mart. Symmetrical. And hilarious. And sooo my boy.

And NOW, I am caught up.... Whew. I feel better.

Crap Happens! But Mostly Only to Me, So Don't Worry

2010-09-16T22:47:00.006-06:00

I believe if you could bottle my luck, we'd have quite a weapon of mass destruction on our hands.Either my lucky number has been discontinued or the fact that I did not forward all those chain emails is finally catching up to me. Let's review, in the last two weeks: Shayla broke her thumb, my purse was completely stolen with EVERYTHING in it, and now check out what happened to me last night:Um, yeah, that's my red SUV. When I left the house the bumper was hooked on and the back wasn't all smashed. Oh and there was still glass in the back window. I was at a full stop at a red light and was hit by this guy doing 40 MPH. He was distracted and didn't even break.

In an Explorer vs. Expedition fight, they both lose. The driver was so apologetic and he even called me today to apologize again and see if I needed anything. Very refreshing. Tells me a lot about his character and I've never met him, but I'm super impressed. He had 5 kids in this Expedition, but they were all buckled in and safe. I was so glad his children were safe. I was alone in my car and I am injured, but nothing major. (I hope!) My left collarbone/shoulder is freaking totally sore. It's not broken, but it hurts. The seatbelt did it's job and held that shoulder tight. We're going to let the swelling go down until next week and then check it again. My left arm is swollen and bruised below the shoulder too. My chest has an AWESOME bruise from the seatbelt right across my cleavage. I would Blog it, but my kids would DIE! I'm on enough pain meds, that I'm tempted to, but I won't. My ribs aren't broken, but bruised and separated on my left side and they are soooooo painful. There are bruises on the fronts of my knees and the backs of my knees. I couldn't figure out the bruises on the backs of my knees, but my drivers seat was broken and I think it just rammed my knees. My neck and back are sore and whiplashed. My theory is that a positive attitude can overcome just about anything and the pain meds should cover everything else. The accident knocked my shoe off. It hit me hard. I am stiff and sore and bruised all over.

A closer shot:

What you don't see is the buckled roof (it knocked the cargo rack loose), the back doors that won't open, the bent side runningboards, and the broken third row seat. I started to cry when I saw the broken third row seat. I just keep telling the cops that I was so grateful I was alone. I have 5 kids. Someone is always in my third row seat. If I'd of had my kids in my third row, they would NOT have been ok. I am so blessed. I recognize it.

The name of this Blog will not be changing to "KyAnn and her Copious Amounts of Good Luck." I actually don't believe in luck. Luck is probability taken personally. I DO believe that everything happens for a reason and these events have been given to me to teach me something that I need to know. I get hurt a lot and I always have some calamity in my life. My friends make jokes about putting me in a plastic bubble, but I've come to accept that this is just how I role and how my life happens. This will be me:And I'm ok with it.

It's Not Manipulation, It's Leadership

2010-09-15T20:41:00.009-06:00

I cannot Blog about work. Very little. But I must share this with you. Every year my work has a Summer Picnic. Part of the Picnic is a dunk tank. Employees pay money to vote for people to go in the dunk tank. Guess who got voted in? *innocent look, blink, blink* Moi?

I am a Supervisor and people paid hundreds of dollars to dunk me. The money went to a good cause. There are three ways you can take being voted into the dunk tank.

I am one of the five biggest buttholes in my organization--they hate me and wish I'll drown
They like me and are having fun with me because they want to see me dunked for laughs
Wet t-shirt!

I think it's number one. Unless I'm wrong, which, if you've met me, you know I'm not. I have to be tough sometimes as a Boss. It's called Leadership not Likership. Although I did hear a good Boss joke last week. Ready? What's the difference between the Pope and the Boss? The Pope only expects to have his ring kissed.

I have the most wonderful employees. They kick trash and are completely fabulous. They work hard and they tolerate me. Usually the biggest risks to our projects is my own thundering incompetence. So without further adieu, here is me getting dunked. Note the angel wings and halo. Because I am mostly Angelic. And if you are going into the dunk tank and are Dead Man Walking, you should have some style. In the immortal words of Bon Jovi, I'm going down in a blaze of glory. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, a video of a fallen Angel.

And here is one more shot if you enjoyed that. I trash talked most who threw balls at me. I went down about 25 times. It was a riot and I enjoyed my first experience in the dunk tank although I have no desire to go in again next year. Trash talking was the best part. Another male supervisor who was dunked before me, leaned over as he was getting out and whispered to me that he pee'd in it. He was lying, I hope. Although the water was soo cold, it would've at least warmed it up a little bit.

Dear Ke$ha, I Don't Think Love Is The Only Drug You Are On:

2010-09-13T22:11:00.006-06:00

Actually this letter isn't to Ke$ha (she's a singer, Mom) it's to my Fairy BlogMother
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Dear Fairy BlogMother:
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You have been totally wicked awesome lately. Even wickeder (ok more wicked, don't be Conan the Grammarian) and awesomer than ever before. I am the luckiest Blogger in the whole Blogoverse. If I make a wish on my Blog, you have been answering it in warp speed, Fairy BlogMother.
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First of all Fairy BM (for BlogMother, not Bowel Movement) THANK YOU for showing me the path to the Merrill Osmond Blog. Oh my flaming heck, I know, I FREAKED out too. *faints* Merrill (for those of you beyond the Zion Curtain) is the brother to Donny and Marie and he Blogs! *faints again* I am follower #71. If you hurry you can be follower #72 (I don't think there is much of a line...) Check out the Osmond Awesomeness here.
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Second of all Fairy BM, in this post I participated in the I AM EQUAL photoshoot. I mentioned in my piddly little blog that I wished I would have worn Peter's remains to the photo shoot. Peter was my best friend in the whole universe and he died of HIV/pneumonia. If you don't know who Peter is read here and seriously try to keep up, Sheesh. The turbo awesome folks at I AM EQUAL contacted me (from my blog post) and invited me back for a second shoot. So I went. And, seriously, I need photoshop. I have messy bangs and double chin(s) from my new Leave No Carb Behind diet plan. I suspect the Big Bang is occurring in the meteor shower/dust cloud behind my head. Plus I am SOOO much cuter than this in real life (ask anybody). But the photo isn't about me and my chins and my giant dandruff cloud, it's about the locket with the 4-leaf clover around my neck that holds some of the cremated remains of my very bestest BFF. And I was able to hold my tears in until the photo was done and then I lost it and cried. And the photographer was so sweet to me and I was so glad and PROUD that Peter got to be a part of this. Thank you I AM EQUAL, you moved my soul with you act of kindness to invite me back. Thank you Fairy BlogMother for granting my wish that I made on my Blog to include Peter.
My daughter Paige went with me too.

And so did my daughter Carrie.But Fairy BlogMother was not done, she said, "Yo, let's turn this up" and slid it into fifth gear. I made a wish on my Blog that I wanted to meet other Bloggers. I follow two Blogs of ladies that live in my own town that I had never met. So I invited them to lunch. Since we live so close and I find them utterly phenomenal, I wanted to meet. They agreed and we went. I greeted them by letting them know that they had the right to remain silent because anything they said can and would be Blogged. We laughed, we cried, we told stories and jokes, and we had so much in common. I believe we may have been separated at birth. If you are not following their Blogs you are totally missing out. This is Lisa from Blue and Shoe, me, and Krista from Shades of Blonde. Honest to Blog, I LOVE them!

And then the Blogosphere aligned and I was invited to a meeting of the Blogs for dinner in Salt Lake. And I stumbled upon these AMAZING Bloggers below at the dinner. And I prettymuch freaking love them. Even though I am the oldest, by a lot, and I felt like I was the Denmother of a Girl Scout Troop. We were loud, but when you combine that much awesome, it's gonna make some noise. We unanimously decided that internet famous is the best kind of famous. And we totally Blog it like it's hot. Go to their Blogs and follow them because they all have amazing Blogs that are *almost* as good as mine.

Crystal from Wanna Be Balanced Mom (she had Blog business cards and I wanted to hate her because of it, but she was too sweet to hate)
Crusty old 100 year old Blogger (me)
Melissa from Glamazon Mom (she is funny as crap and I wanted to hear her sing, next time, she was born to Blog)
Kellie from Hendricks Family (she is holding her 4 week old baby and she is in her skinny jeans, again I wanted to hate her, but I fell in love with her)
Laura from The Purse Blogger (she organized the dinner and invited me and she rocks hard)
Tylaine from Just Me (I adore Tylaine, us weird name chick have to stick together, she is witty and a thinker)
Kate from Smug Marrieds (Fall down make me laugh, this chick is hilarious in real life and in her Blog)
Mindi from Mindi's Manic Meanderings (I love her, she talks as much as me, and she gets it, she just gets everything)

Ladies, thanks for hanging out with me, and thanks for making me sound WAY cooler than I am in your Blogs. Next time we are totally inviting NieNie. If there is anything virtuous or Blogworthy we seek after these things.So if you live in Utah (or heck, anywhere, I'm mobile!) and want to meet me, leave me a comment and let me know. I love to meet people who feel just like this, like I do:Fairy BlogMother thank you again for the wish answering, stay vigilant I'll be making more requests soon. Thank you for encouraging my behavior. Thank you for not pointing and staring. Thank you for turning up the awesome in my life. Keep it coming.

XOXO

Life Is A Big Fat Canvas And You Should Throw All The Paint You Can

2010-09-08T07:16:00.002-06:00

The pediatrician said to me, "Most mom's aren't this proud when their children break a bone." I told the pediatrician, "I am proud. I think it's awesome." Shayla, my youngest (6), broke her thumb on her dismount off the swing set. I've been telling people it's because her socks came untied, but no one gets it so I stopped saying it. Frequently I find I am the only person who thinks I am funny...
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All of my children except Paige have broken a bone (and not for lack of try). I've had 12 broken bones. You read that correctly. 12. We're not exactly sit at home on the couch kind of people. I love that my kids and I are busting bones left, right, and center being active and fun. I would rather break a bone every day of the week than sit home and watch reality TV.
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30 minutes before Shayla's break I switched off the TV and told her to get outside. This makes me an accomplice. I'd do the same thing again in a second. My children always break bones in epic ways with multiple witnesses so I've never had to worry about child protective services.
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I have an EXTREMELY high pain tolerance. By the time I say "ouch" we are headed to the emergency room. Two of my children have inherited this mega-high tolerance for pain. Carrie, my middle daughter, may have a pain tolerance even higher than me and Shayla can take a lot of pain for a 6-year-old. In fact, when she broke her thumb, she continued playing, slept all night (I am not making this up), and then the next morning when it was swollen to 3 times it's original size, finally said that it hurt. She couldn't move it and I knew from the purple that it was broken. The pediatrician said it probably wasn't broken if she had slept, but he didn't know who he was dealing with. She has a buckle fracture in her left thumb, luckily just above the growth plate. It was too swollen to cast, so we stabilized it with this for a few days. This is her in the doctors office. Smiley and happy. This is her first break and she thought she was pretty hot stuff, plus she totally got a blue sucker so life is good. Why the hella don't they have suckers for me when I go to the doctor? I'd probably be more inclined to speed dial up my next pap smear if I knew there was a sucker at the end.
Four days later the swelling had finally receded enough for a hard cast. She chose purple. Of course she did. Shayla has done really well with the cast. I don't do so well with casts and I always end up cutting mine off myself and it makes my mother and sister (who is a doctor) furious. I hate that casts touch me and I know that they are growing salmonella and e-coli inside of them. I keep sticking Purell covered Q-tips down inside them, until I finally can't take it anymore and cut it off. I won't cut hers off. Hers doesn't itch or feel tight and she's keeping it pretty clean. Here she is freshly out of the tub in PJs with wet hair showing off her cast. She is loving having everyone sign it. Fun fact: Shayla told me that her cast is stronger than her teeth. Good to know.

We are bone breaking beasts!!! Get off the couch and live loud kids. Live loud.

Karma Does My Dirty Work

2010-09-04T22:04:00.015-06:00

Allow me to start this post off with a photo:Um yeah, that's a cop. Again. You'll recall the last post also had a cop in it. Does anyone see a pattern? Anyone? My favorite part of this picture is that I am smiling. I shouldn't be. But I am pleased with myself that my smile was maintained. I'm proud of this smile. Right before this photo was taken my purse was stolen. My whole purse. And everything in it. Insert swear words here. Let me start at the beginning and tell you the story that led up to the cop photo. This is my awesome friend Keli:
Keli led our expedition to go rock climbing and rappelling late last night. Yes in the dark. We climb straight up cliffs in the pitch dark and come down on ropes. Keli graduated from high school with me and she is as necessary to me as oxygen. I literally could not live my life without her. Anywho, we took a group of teenage girls from Kristie's ward (church) with us. Here are Kristie (my soul sister/kindred spirit/BFF since 7th grade) and I. Kristie is actually driving her minivan as she took this photo. We'd just left a stop sign and we were moving pretty slowly, but she is driving as she hit this photo. I turbo love Kristie. Whenever I am with her I spend the whole time trying to get over how freaking awesome she is. She is the Marco to my Polo.

Lollie came too. Lollie and I went to high school together (although we never spoke in high school) and we recently connected on Facebook. I love Facebook. Lollie is fearless, passionate, and level. I love her levelness. I need her levelness. She has answers and purpose and power. I am learning from her and I am loving our new journey together. She is a submarine and not afraid to dive deep. I groove on the deepness she brings to my life. BTW, my shirt says "Proud to be Awesome"As mentioned, we took teenage girls that Kristie knew with us.

I love to be around teenagers. Mostly because I still act like one...

We taught the teens our ways. We taught them to go up. Here I am helping one find her way as she learns to climb. We taught them to trust themselves and trust the rock.

And we taught them to come down. We even showed them our patented upside down rappelling tricks. The title of this photo is "Mom, please don't let KyAnn take me anywhere ever again"As we were teaching and laughing we heard, from the trail head below, Kristie's car alarm go off. Kristie and I got off the cliff, dropped our gear, and jogged as quickly as we could the mile down the mountain to the car in the pitch dark, leaving the teens at the top (with Keli and Lollie). When we got to the car, the locks had been picked with a slim jim (My daughter Carrie said, "How did they open the car with beef jerky?) Fortunately there was no damage to Kristie's car, but my purse, which had been hidden in the back, under a blanket, was GONE. Totally gone. Luckily my phone, camera, iPod, and sunglasses were on me and not in my purse; however, my work blackberry, cash, credit cards, checkbook, car keys, house keys, drivers license, favorite lipstick (damn those crooks), and FULL Cafe Rio punch card ("free meal") were gone. I started dialing. Work. Police. Credit cards. Banks. Calling and cancelling. Calling and cancelling. And calling and cancelling. After the police had responded and I'd called all I could call, Lollie drove me home. My car was at Kristie's and it sat there all night, it was too late to take my spare keys and go get it.

I have nothing. It is gone. All gone. And it's still sinking in.

No Costco card, no drivers license, no credit cards, no insurance cards, no pictures. Lollie's purse was out on her seat. Luckily Kristie's car alarm scared them away and they didn't bother any other cars or purses.

Despite all my phone calls to cancel everything, the speedy thieves rang up over $300 in charges on video games, junk food, and movie tickets/concessions. That pleases me. Because it sounds like kids. Not hardened criminals who will use my address and house keys to come for me. I loaded a clip in my 9MM gun last night just in case and my locks are now changed. And good luck getting past my dogs.

I did not freak out when I found my purse taken. It is just "stuff". Everything can be replaced (even though it is a MAJOR pain in the arse to replace it). Everything and everyone important to me is intact. My camera, phone, and iPod are still with me. Money is just money. Everything happens for a reason. The universe and karma will deal with the crooks. Although, truthfully, despite my smile in the cop photo, and despite my knowledge that it is just "stuff", I still want to fight the crooks until hell freezes over and then I want to fight them on the ice.

P.S. Proceed directly to your purse and/or wallet and photocopy both sides of everything. Write down the 1-800 numbers to call if your cards are lost or stolen. Remove everything that is not replaceable from your purse/wallet (i.e. jewelry or baby photos) Trust me. I was so glad I had done this. Go. Go now. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Do it.

I Am Tatted Up

2010-08-29T20:07:00.011-06:00

My work schedule has been s-e-r-i-o-u-s-l-y cutting into my blogging lately. If something doesn't change soon, I'll give you the emails of my supervision and/or my constituents (I don't even technically know what a constituent is...) and and you can email and complain that they must release me from some of my duties so MORE blogging can occur. Priorities people. Priorities. My poor blog is being woefully neglected. I have like 6 events that I'm behind on and need to blog about, but lets start with this one. I have a live chicken on each shoulder and a live chicken on my head. Where my peeps at? I've never seen anyone else in this pose. I LOVE LOVE LOVE this picture. Double click on it. Blow it up. Revel in it. It's fine with me if you want to use it as your screen saver. Luckily I did not get pooped on. We had a GNO (Girls Night Out) and I ended up with chickens on my head. Super lucky. Are you jealous? My friend keeps them for eggs and somehow they ended up in the house and on my head. Again, I LOVE it and would you expect anything less??? I went to dinner and a movie (Vampires Suck, the Twilight spoof) with these lovely ladies below who I have know since junior high. Left to right: Keli, Michelle, me, and Kristie. We are showing off our henna tattoos. My tats are on my arm and my foot which I have wrapped around Kristie's back. That's right after dinner, movie, and chickens on my head, Kristie gave us all henna tattoos. My tattoo choices were:
1) A Ninja Hello Kitty withe the words "Search and Destroy" on my butt cheek
2) An anchor with Mom above it on my biceps
3) A tramp stamp that was a cocoon instead of a butterfly
4) A snake that started on my thigh and went up
5) The word "dork" in Japanese on my back (Kristie knows Japanese)
But Kristie said she only did flowers so that's what I got. :) Here's Keli getting ink'd, er, henna'd. I love my tattoo artist. Guess which foot is mine? I would love to tell you that luscious tan is mine, but alas, I'm the pasty white one. And I'm the one one with skin cancer..... Keli (who almost killed me in a cave in this post even though she tells me I TOTALLY exaggerate and did not come as close to dying as I say that I did) is the tan one. We are tattooed BadA's!

Kristie mentioned that she had never carved her initials in a tree. What?!? Seriously?!? Since I believe that everyone should do things that they have never done, we set out on a tree carving expedition about 12:30 AM. We had knives and headlamps and a mission. But we got distracted by some random high school boys playing with a light up battery operated frisbee in the park and played with them. In a totally non-cougar, we are all married and 40, way. This is one of them going to get the frisbee from by the fence.

The super awesome battery operated frisbee. I MUST HAVE ONE. I hate it when people have cooler things than me. I gotta find one STAT! I'm thinking my kids and I + battery frisbee + glow sticks = The most totally awesome nighttime ultimate frisbee game EVER. This is my awesome frisbee pass. I know you can't see it very well, but trust me it was an awesome throw.So we found a tree and put some initials in it. This was totally legal and we did not harm the tree. Ok maybe we harmed it a little... but I hugged it and thanked it for being part of our adventure. I'm not exactly a rules type of girl.

Note in the photo above that I am barefoot. I didn't wear shoes because I didn't want to jack up my henna tattoo. Barefoot becomes an issue later in this post when the cops come and I have to run (keep reading...) It's after 1 in the morning at this point and we are still carving and taking crazy face pictures. I look like (and am) a totally sweet and innocent angel in this photo. Kristie looks like she means it and has already thought of a good place to hide the bodies.
In this photo Michelle and I are having a fake knife fight. She looks like she wants to stab me in the head and if she does (only if she does) I'm going to lunge and stab her in the jugular. Don't try this at home kids. Later, when the cop comes (keep reading), she hides this knife down her pants. Success. Kristie has now checked this off her bucket list and has carved her initials in a tree.So here's the part where the cop comes. We saw the patrol car and acted casual. Red and blue lights came on and we ran and scattered. A group of 40 year old chicks ran from the cops at 1:30 AM. He got on the speakerphone thingy and ordered us to come back. We discussed it and decided we'd better comply. Mostly because if I'm on the TV show Cops I want to be 15 pounds thinner and wearing something hot. So we walked back over to him and I wish you coulda seen the look on his face when he realized that he has apprehended four 40 year old married females. We told him we were on a walk for exercise. (Not a lie, we were walking, and we had just run from him, therefore we were exercising...my heart was pounding and I TOTALLY hit my target heart rate) He never questioned the fact that I was barefoot. He told us to go home and be safe. We agreed. Then we asked if we could have a picture. He is a narcotics officer and said only if we didn't put it on Facebook because he does undercover stuff. We agreed. I figure blogging is the same thing, so I hid his face.When I got home I Googled the phrase "against the law to carve trees in Utah" and the only thing I found was that it's a Class 2 Misdemeanor in Utah if you desecrate a tree in a state park or on protected property. Since we weren't in either place, we did not break the law. But we had an epic night.

When Michelle got home at 2 AM, her husband asked, "What did you do tonight?"

She responded, "Before or after we almost got arrested?"

She probably won't be allowed to hang out with us any more.

Someone asked me what I would do if my children had done the same thing. I said I would be fine with it. Kids: If you are not breaking any laws, scattered when the cops came, then went back and talked to the cops, got pictures, and told the world about it, I'm fine with that. But if you have cop involvement for legitimate offenses or don't return when ordered to return, then you're going to catch hell from me.

Shhh... I Just Got The Voices Down For A Nap

2010-08-24T23:13:00.001-06:00

We took a little family trip to a place I'd always wanted to go: Gilgal Gardens in Salt Lake City. I'd first heard about Gilgal in high school (a mere 10, ok 15, ok 22 years ago *faints*) but back then it wasn't open to the public and you had to run through backyards and jump fences and despite our best fresh-faced Mormon kid efforts, we never found it. I think we were distracted by a hot guy from Taylorsville (20 miles too far southwest) named Kelly..... Oh, high school.....

So I packed up the whole fam damily and we went looking for Gilgal. I Googled it and had good directions and no one in Taylorsville to distract me. My kids kind of moaned about the whole trip and told me a garden would be "lame" and "Can't we just stay home and play X-box?" I promised them it would be an adventure and they know me well enough to know that when an adventure is promised, one is usually delivered. Hidden behind Chuck-A-Rama on 4th South is Gilgal (enter on 5th South). SLC Parks has taken over management of the garden and we had a blast. Here I am with the Joseph Smith Sphinx. Joseph Smith was the first prophet of the Mormon church and some dude carved his head on a huge stone Sphinx. How funny is that?
Some guy did all these rock carvings in his backyard and when he died in the 1970's they fenced it off and closed it to the public (thus the high school trips to try and find it). For a while private owners only had it open on Sundays, but now the city owns it and it's open daily. I was floored that a single man, with help from his son-in-law, did all of this rock work in the 50's and 60's. "Honey if you need me, I'll be just out back, carving gigantic rocks." Jill and Paige with the Sphinx. It's huge. This dude has brick pants! Who doesn't love brick pants?!? Gilgal is rich with symbolism and I'm way too dumb to try and explain/understand it all, but it was crazy wild to see all the rock and carvings. If you live in Utah and go, get one of the brochures as you go in, it explains it all. Me, Shayla, and Mr. McBrickPants.

Carrie on a humongous statue of carved books.

Paige under a stone arch.

Mike in front of stone dismembered body parts (weird huh?), see the head, leg, foot (by Mike's feet), etc. And the rock in the foreground says Daniel 2. There are thousands of words and numbers carved in the rocks all over the place. Seriously, thousands!

Jill in front of a brick thingy.Shayla on a carved warrior guy. Remember at one point this was a dude's backyard. "Sweetie where shall we put the GIGANTIC rock for the warrior carving? Across from the brick pants?" This guy paid a FORTUNE to haul huge rocks in a long time ago. Mike asked me, "Mom was this guy crazy who did all these carvings?" My initial response was, "Yes, honey, TOTALLY!" But as I walked through the rest of the garden and had some time to think about it, he is probably no different than anyone else with passion. Michael Jordan has probably spent as many hours throwing an orange ball through a metal hoop as this man spent carving rock. Same thing. Two men driven to be the best and create excellence in what they do. As I appreciated his passion and his creativity, I was able to look at the gigantic stone hearts, grasshopper, and heads with new eyes. I focused on the the amount of time this man committed to his craft. He's not crazy, he's hard core dedicated. And I'm not going to lie, I was a little jealous that I don't have anything I want to do as much as this man wanted to carve on rocks....

I highly recommend you visit.

Hedgehogs. Why Don't They Just Share The Hedge?

2010-08-21T10:20:00.002-06:00

Can I get a drum roll please? Seriously, beat on your keyboard. I am this weeks featured blogger on Suphstah Saturday by my BBFF Tree at Mother Of Pearl It Is. Let me hit my pose. (Armpit sniff...)
You can read my interview here, or get to it by clicking on the button below. But then come back and read the rest of this post below. It's like a bad car wreck.

Continue your drum roll because look what came in the mail:
Freak YES! I have a passport. I've always wanted one. It was on my bucket list (I'm working on posting my bucket list as a link, check back in a week) Please, feel free to dance. I did. Having a passport somehow makes me cool. My passport makes me cooler than dating Batman. Truth. Super cool. Like shawty not shorty cool. I'm kinda excited about it. Mostly because I got a passport in anticipation of a pending trip. No not Hogwarts. Not Narnia. I'm not telling YET because I don't want to jinx it. But maybe my work is sending me somewhere. You'll be the 8th to know if they do. No one has actually died from suspense, but sorry in advance if you get a little sick from it. Advil.

So I know that *everybody* has a passport and I'm like the 3rd to the last person on planet Earth to get one, but I'm still thinking I'm the shiz today. So back up and let me have my little party in my head. Don't go put on your "I'm with Stupid" shirts and point the arrows at my blog. Plus you should give me gobs of sympathy cuz my husband had surgery yesterday. It's ok if you want to give him some too, but most goes to me because men + sickness/surgery = ARE YOU KIDDING ME SHUT UP AND DO IT! Honey. This is him in the gown. If you are a full time follower of my blog (if you're not, take a lap) you will remember that I was in the ER in a similar pose exactly 13 days ago here. Not a good month for us and a thousand pardons to my insurance company in advance. Just my opinion, but in an US Weekly "Who Wore It Better" side by side of he and I in the hospital gown, I TOTALLY WIN. Just sayin'. Like 95% to 5% (he loves the 5% who voted for him).
So 6 days ago Hubs got a fever and a stiff/sore neck. We went (read: I dragged his arse) to the doctor. Antibiotics and sent home. Still fever. Back to the doctor again. Still fever. Round 3: Different doctor. Doc feels his neck and says, "Holy Hannah (although probably something more doctorish) what is this big old lump in his neck?" Shoulder shrug. Mega-major-mammoth antibiotics (3 kinds) and a CT scan. CT scan dude tells us results take 3 days Chad is improving so I go to Albuquerque for work later the same day as the CT scan, thinking "I will be home before the results are available." Next AM, doc calls me in 'Querque and says, "We found a mass in his neck and we gotta do surgery STAT." I jump on a plane and a few hours after I land he headed into surgery. The lump in the side of his neck before surgery:

The surgical team removed an apricot-sized infected/inflamed/angry lymph node very near to his jugular. Took a long time. Now he is Frankenchecketts with a drain coming out of his neck. I would show you pics, but it's super gross. Ewww.... He still has the fever and is sick, but we're hoping he'll turn the corner as the drainage continues. He is FREAKING OUT because the hunt start tomorrow and he's bedridden. I've used my grumpy wife voice to him (and his friends) to let him know he is NOT hunting tomorrow. He really wants to use this: This is a note that I wrote him several months ago to prove a point in his office. He keeps it at his desk and he flaunts it to the other guys that he can go as much as he wants. He has a copy at home that I scanned for this post. He's trying to enact it for tomorrow. Hells no. NORMALLY he can go as much as he wants, but the agreement is considered null and void for 2 weeks following any surgery. After that, the deal stands. He can go all day every day. Fine with me. Just means I get to use that passport as much as I want.....

Mostly Harmless

2010-08-19T20:01:00.001-06:00

More family vacation fun. Brace yourself. RIP Summer 2010. You will be missed. This is all of us at Henry's Springs on the way to Bear Lake. Take a picture it will last longer.We always stop at Henry's Springs. It's tradition. Three teenage girls, Carrie, Jill, and Paige on the bridge.

We love to climb the rocks. Girls up high, boys down low. Although Chad and Mike did go up and into the cave.

Jill and Shayla in the cave.

To get to this rock you have to cross rocks in the river. The springs flow into a river. The big girls headed out across the little rocks onto the big rock. There were other families at Henry's Springs, but we were the only ones who ventured onto the big rock in the river.

And Shayla, who is 6, cried actual tears because I wouldn't her go out onto the big rock in the river. So I let her go. Fortunately she lived and made it or this would've been a very different Blog post... As she was crossing and jumping from rock to rock across the water I yelled, "Shayla be careful!" And she yelled back, and this is a direct quote, "Mom, I got this! I'm part mountain goat!" And she is, she loves to climb on anything. Note she only has one flip flop remaining. She lost one, but we were able to fish it out downstream. She was so darn happy to be out on this rock.I love that my kids are brave little toasters. I encourage them to be brave starting when they are small. Here are the three older girls climbing up into the overhang. I didn't let Shayla climb this, even through she was really mad. It's too dangerous. I do have limits. I've climbed this spot before and if you slip you fall a long way into the river. The girls had to throw down their flip flops and climb barefoot to get traction.

The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. Of course I am 1 part brave and 3 parts fool, and the apples didn't fall far from the tree. Except my sweet Mike. I'll be in trouble for calling him that. Let me rephrase that: My tough, manly, macho Mike. Mike takes after Chad and is much more level headed and a better risk assesser than the girls. Plus he didn't want to get his expensive Nike shoes wet in the river or in the dirt. Next time he'll wear junky shoes and he will climb.
I parent my children to take risks and live hard and loud. I believe that life shrinks or expands in proportion to your courage. My girls, barefoot, coming down the mountain as my heart swelled with pride. That which doesn't kill you only serves to make you that much more badA.

To Me, Pluto Will Always Be A Planet

2010-08-16T21:04:00.002-06:00

We've just returned from a mini-family vacation/staycation. We slept at home every night so we didn't have to ask anyone to take care of our attack dogs. Summer is practically over. (Weep, wail, gnash teeth...) Shay's already in school and the teens start back on Monday. We decided we must Carpe the freaking Diem. Actually we Carpe'd the heck out of several Diems. And we had a BLAST!!! Rather than overload you with all of our vay-cay in one post, I'm going to break it into several (You are welcome WC Camp.)

Let me just say that my 5 children are freaking wonderful. They are HILARIOUS and all about the funny. We cracked up non-stop. I am so proud of the outstanding people they are turning out to be. My FAVORITE thing is when all 5 of my kids are together and having fun.

For our vaca/staycation we decided to do some local things we had never done. I'd never been to the new Planetarium. I did not know (I do now) that the Planetarium is free. You have to pay for laser light shows (we weren't there when any we wanted to see were playing) but the exhibits are free. Wow! Ok so I had 4 wild teens and a first grader doing photo ops all over the place. Here are some of my favorites. I have like 45 pictures of us being dorks all over the Planetarium and saying things like, "Pluto! Quit messing with Uranus!" and "Uranus is a gas giant!" and "I've never seen Uranus up this close!" It was pretty much an hour long Uranus festival and it never got old.

Pretending to be in space... in your face and in your space. Apparently, maturity is extremely overrated in this Universe. I have NO IDEA why I am doing this pose.On Mars. The red planet. Me again with the stupid pose. Everyone is doing something odd, but Chad. I love it.Sister love on Mars. Me giving Jill a beat down on Mars. Other families were looking at us, but we love a good photo op...

And Mike giving Shayla a ride to the Moon and telling me "Mom, all those people are looking at Uranus!" I'm telling you. It never got old.

In the Planetarium Gift Shop I bought glow in the dark stars for the kids bedrooms. Chad thought I bought them for us and my husband seriously hung glow in the dark stars over our bed. (WTH?) I found him laying on our queen sized bed in the dark looking up at his stars. (Double WTH?) I don't have the words. But right now, this minute, there is a pack of glow in the dark stars hanging above my bed and I am almost 40 years old.

More vacation pics over the next few days. No more Uranus jokes...

I Made It Through My Child's First Day Of First Grade, Is There Some Sort Of Prize?

2010-08-15T15:57:00.000-06:00

Shayla started first grade. We are on a year round school calendar so she is "on track." If you aren't familiar with year round school. The kids go about 10 weeks and then they are off for 3 weeks, then on 10, off 3, lather, rinse, repeat.. What the crap am I supposed to do with her for those 3 weeks? Here she is all dressed up and ready for the first day:

Can we dialog about getting my 6 year old ready to go back to school? Back to school shopping for Shayla was HARD! When did buying clothes for a first grader get so hard? Why do the stores want me to dress my 6 year old like a skank? Shayla is right on the cusp of a size 7, gone are the days of 4-6X. Let me break it down for you, 4-6X is filled with pastels skirt sets and adorable puppies and shirts that say "I love to dance." But go one size grouping up and kids apparently all morph into prostitutes. 7-14 is filled with sequins, fringe, glitter tank tops with big red lips on them, ripped jeans, and T-shirts that screamed things like "Sexy" and "Made ya Look". I looked to see if the heroin syringe was sold separately or included with the shirts. My favorite was an off the shoulder shirt with a large dragon on the chest that said "Juicy". Juicy? Really? She's 6!!! Good grief what I wouldn't give for a ladybug collar. We managed to find things that were 6 year old appropriate, but we had to look hard. Acceptable first grade attire was the exception, not the rule. Call me a prude, but she's not crossing the monkey bars in booty shorts and a t-shirt that says "Fool for Love" in glitter. She's a kid, not a short grown up.Although she is growing up quicker than I think. We have been talking a lot about Jill's (my oldest daughter) approaching wedding. With so much wedding talk in the air, my youngest princess has been thinking about her own marital future. "I'm not going to get married until I'm fifteen," she announced at the dinner table. Well that's a relief, we were afraid she was going to do something crazy. This little gal loves school and her teacher.

And here we are on the way to school. iCarly backpack and baby blue bike. I always cry on the first day. When my big'uns got to high school and junior high in a few weeks I will cry for them too when they leave. And then I will sit in my big old empty, quiet house, and do an arm pump and a happy dance.

God Bless The Whole World, No Exceptions

2010-08-13T09:12:00.006-06:00

Notice: If you are new to this Blog, I'm usually funny. This post is personal and meaningful and something I believe in. The humor will be back next post.

I had the opportunity to be a part of something that I think is super cool and moves my soul and I want to share it with you. This is my photo for the I AM EQUAL 100,000 Photo World Tour.

My friend Jen says this photo looks like I am in Xanadu. Which only makes me love the picture all the more.

To be in the photo shoot you have to choose a pose with your palm part of your hand near your face. I selected "karate hands" and you can see other hand choices on the website (link at end of the post) some of them are really creative. My friends went with me, but I'm not sharing their photos because it's a personal choice to share and this is about me and my choice. I AM EQUAL is a project that empowers humanity to take a stand for equality and the rights of all people. The photographer is Matt Spencer and to be photographed you must take a stand and a pledge for equality. People from all walks of life are captured as they stand up for the causes that are near to their heart. Some people are taking a stand for civil rights while others are protecting children. Some speak up for women's rights in the workplace or to end human trafficking. There are some who are standing up for gay and lesbian issues and some want to stop female genital mutilation. I participated in a group from Utah and joined thousands of others from around the world in claiming equality for ourselves, our family, friends, communities, and all of humanity.

I participated in this photo shoot for my 5 children. I want them to know that their mother firmly believes that regardless of color, creed, religion, sexuality, economic condition, or location, we stand united and claim the fundamental right of equality. Together, we are joined in our power, passion, and freedom and the pursuit of equalness for all. In fact the whole rest of this post is just for my kids, so you can all stop reading. But kids, I want you to read on because I want you to know how your Momma feels.

I AM EQUAL does a lot with equality for gays and lesbians and I have taken some heat for being a Mormon and participating in this photo shoot. Even though my personal pledge was for special needs/handicapped equality, the organization accepts pledges for gay and lesbian equality. I want to explain my reasons. I am breaking one of my cardinal rules of Blogging DO NOT discuss religion or politics, but I'm doing it. Here goes.

- Yes, I am Mormon. I believe it. I follow my Prophet and I know the position the Mormon church has taken on gay marriage. I'm Mormon. Period. Dot. And I believe in I AM EQUAL as a Mormon. They are complimentary and in harmony. At least the way I live my religion. My religion was driven across the country because we were different, I get what it's like to be different. Speaking of different, you should see my underwear. :) I support I AM EQUAL's views on children's rights, women's rights, hate crimes, and a lot of other platforms.

- My best friend in this entire universe was a gay man. Kids you know how important Peter is to me and to our family. When he died of HIV/pneumonia and I spoke at his funeral I promised him I would take a stand for him whenever I could. It is a stand I will always take. It is personal. It is me. My only regret is that I did not wear his vial of cremated remains around my neck for the photo shoot. I didn't think about it until the next day. I am sorry Peter. I'll make it up to you.

- My college roommate Vanessa and her partner Julie are my dear and true friends. I would take a bullet for them. And they for me. Without thinking twice. They are lesbian and TOTALLY AWESOME. They are always always always welcome in my home, in my life, in my circle. Always. This is Vanessa and I in college. If you haven't already hit your knees in awe of my sweet 80's hair, let me point out that I ROCK this look. Vanessa and I today. I love this chick!!!Julie and Vanessa have been together longer than a lot of hetero couples I know, including my husband and I. They are in it for life. I'm not promoting or condoning, I'm just loving and accepting everyone. Because I am equal. And so are they. And so are you.- I have worked hard to teach my kids the value in having a diverse variety of friends – people who we choose to associate regardless of color, creed, or religion. Too much stock is put in different color, race, lifestyles, and of different religions – nothing but boxes and labels that separate us. If we focus on the fact that our friend is “black” or "gay" or "handicapped" then we’re probably missing the deeper truth, this person is our friend.

- I honestly believe that my children won't learn one thing from reading this because they know this. I have taught them everyday, by example. They know my expectation of them and myself that they show love, compassion and acceptance. And that we show it willingly and joyfully.

So to those who criticized me and my choice to be in this photo shot, I remind you that I only speak for me, not for my religion, not for my race, not for my employer, not for my community. Only for me. KyAnn. And, speaking just for me, I can be Mormon and part of I AM EQUAL. I can love and be good friends with my gay and lesbian peeps. I can treat everyone equally. Because the way I interpret my religion, I don't have to agree with everyone and what they do, but I am to love everyone equally.

Sorry for the soapbox, thanks for listening, I'll bring the funny back next post....

Note: I borrowed the words for this post liberally from the I AM EQUAL website. To find out more about this organization check them out at I AM EQUAL.

KyAnn Takes On The Flying, Stinging Death Monkeys

2010-08-10T22:00:00.003-06:00

My new building at work has bees around it. A lot of bees. Seriously like 50-70 bees swarming my building all the time. Normally, bees don't bother me. I'm not allergic and I honestly don't mind them. I have the same rule with bees that I have with everybody: You stay on your side of the trailer park and I'll stay on mine. But these particular bees at my building have crossed a line. In 3 weeks, we've had 2 of my people stung. These are my employees. If anyone is going to abuse them and bring them pain it's going to be ME M'Kay?!? Not stupid bees.I live in Utah. Utah is the Beehive State. Look under the eagle on our state seal and you'll see the Beehive. If I were this eagle I would keep an eye on my soft underbelly while it's that close to the hive. I am going to send a letter to the State Seal Maker Dude and recommend that the pokey flag holders be redrawn pointed toward the beehive to be used as weapons.As a card carrying Beehive State Member, I should have innate beehiving qualities. The aptitude to hive bees should pulse through my blood. However, these evil bastard bees that I'm dealing with DO NOT recognize my ancestry/membership in the Beehivedom of the Freaking Beehive State. Mom, I learned that bees are "bastards" in AP Biology in high school. It was in my study notes and 20+years later I remember that "Worker bees are sterile and produce no offspring." My teacher told me that. I'm just repeating a fact. Someone, somewhere, might score higher on an AP Biology Test because of that tidbit in my Blog. I'm not cussing, I'm helping to educate. Back to the bees. I figured this would kill them:Not even a dent in the numbers. It only ticked them off. Fun fact: A bee is considerably faster than I am. The spray didn't work because I couldn't locate the hive. I had about 10 people help me look. Because I employ actual rocket scientists (how cool is that?!?) I had help from highly intellegent people who knew what they were looking for and I felt the search was pretty extensive. These are sneaky bees who hide their hives. Next I tried traps:
Days later, the traps were still EMPTY. No bees in them! I checked the fruity smelling stuff and it was there. I checked the holes, not plugged. Why don't the traps work? Stupid bees!!! So I added something I KNEW would make the traps work like a charm:
I attempted to visually manage the bees! Note my "Enter here" sign down below. The engineers who work for me got a huge laugh out of this! (that photo is not photoshopped, I really did that to be funny) The bees ignored the traps, the spray was pointless, and they were still swarming around my building. I am the boss, I had to do something. At this point I wanted to throat punch this bee:
Ding, ding, ding. Round three. The big guns. I'm not screwing around with these freaking bees anymore! I called the Orkin Man for advice. For real. I looked the number up in the phone book and called him and asked him what I should do.

Except I imagined that my Orkin Man on the other end of the phone line was a look alike of my dream man Ed Roland, the lead singer of Collective Soul. *swoon*

My super sexy Orkin man on the phone was very helpful and free (probably helped that I told them who I worked for) and he told me I wasn't dealing with normal bees. NO SHIPYARD, SHERLOCK! I was dealing with fast, sneaky, bastard bees that hide their hives and knew how to avoid a trap. Ninja Jedi bees! That's when he told me, they are either ground bees or mud wasps. Either way I had to control the water to control the bees. This is the water that leaks from the swamp cooler. That's what the bees want. The water! So Operation Dead Bee was reinvigorated! I had to control the water. But how super sexy Ed Roland look alike Orkin man, HOW? Nunya Beez Wax. JK'ing, he did tell me several methods before we found one that would be acceptable for me and my employer. Plus I didn't have any heavy duty chemicals lying around the office. He seemed surprised. I did have this at home in my pantry to put in the water:
Seems that bees don't like the smell/taste of cloves, cayenne (Ironic? I think SO!), and garlic. So I dumped my own little Colonel Sanders 7 herbs and spices special sauce blend in the water and they all flew away. And I remained the dominate species. Son of a bee string! KyAnn: 1, Bees: 0. Tell your friends SUCKAS!

The Story Of How I Ended Up In The Emergency Room by KyAnn Checketts

2010-08-08T19:59:00.012-06:00

Emergency room doctors have seen it all. So when you can impress an ER Doc when he asks how you hurt yourself, that's saying something. I had to wear two bracelets because I have so many drug allergies they won't fit on one. I spent the day in the ER today. But to understand how I ended up here, we have to start at the beginning of the story. Our story begins with a simple cartwheel. Exactly 12 days ago, I did a cartwheel. For no reason. Perhaps I believed it made me more relevant. Or perhaps I believe that cartwheeling is part of living. I cartwheel frequently, mostly in inappropriate places such as grocery stores, churches, offices, malls, you get the idea. This particular cartwheel that started the trip to the ER was done 12 days ago, alone, in a vacant area of a building at work and the empty, open space just screamed for a cartwheel. So one was granted. My left elbow was tweaked slightly during the cartwheel, but I thought nothing of it. The next morning when my left elbow/arm was sore, I simply ignored it.

Then a few days later my husband Chad and I went 4-wheeling. Chad specifically told me to not jump the 4-wheeler over the big area. Did I listen? Duh! No I did not. I landed the jump spectacularly (because I ROCK) but I landed hard over the handlebars. Because my left elbow was hurt from the cartwheel, I compensated for the injury and used my left shoulder to take the force of the landing. This jacked up my neck and shoulder on my left side. I don't have any shots of the 4-wheeling jump/landing, but this is a shot of me going through the water earlier on the same day.

The next morning my left arm, elbow, and shoulder hurt like a Mutha. But I have an EXTREMELY high pain tolerance. I took 4 ibuprofen and lived my life.

Then three days later (7 days before the ER) I did this:

Please note that my injured left arm/elbow/shoulder were fully extended and hurdling toward the earth at 200 miles an hour. My arm kills at this point (really hurts). Immediately upon landing in the parachute my thumb was numb. All my girlfriends who jumped with me will tell you I was complaining about a tingling, numb thumb. My arm still hurt (it hurt before), but now my thumb was dead. You could stick a curling iron on my thumb and I would smell the burning flesh before I would feel the pain. My thumb is still dead.

The next day my inner elbow went numb with pins and needles. I couldn't feel it. Then I went numb up my shoulder. Odd, I thought, and made myself a doctors appt with the orthopedic clinic that fixed my knee. This is me at the ortho clinic when they did x-rays. This is doctor visit is 5 day before the ER. I would like credit for this doctor visit MOM and Amber! The ortho clinic told me that while my arm is hurt from cartwheeling and 4-wheeling, a pinched nerve in my neck is making my thumb numb. My neck?!? My neck is not even a player. My neck doesn't hurt at all. The doctor made me a follow up appointment for a week later with a spine/neck guy and sent me home with 2 meds that didn't help at all. I asked the doctor if I could run and the doctor said YES. She said YES Mom!!!

So because the Doc said I could run, 2 days before the ER visit I played in a 30+ co-ed indoor soccer game. No biggie, I play soccer every weekend. This game had no subs so I had to run the whole 50 minutes and I scored 8 points (I have witnesses). It was a very aggressive game and I played more roughly than I should have. But I scored 8 points so TOTALLY worth it.
After soccer my neck started to hurt. Saturday morning (yesterday) when I woke up my left arm, shoulder, and elbow hurt and I was numb from my thumb to my shoulder. As I got up and started to move around, it felt like I was wearing a sports bra, but I was not. My chest was tight.
Later on Saturday night it felt like this snake was constricting my chest. My chest was really tight and breathing was possible, but not totally comfortable.Then I started getting pains that shot into my jaw and into my butt and I had a headache that put me on the floor. I decide to knock myself out and go to bed. In hindsight this was probably stupid. The next morning (today) I was still a mess when I woke up. I called my sister Amber who is a doctor and told her what was going on. I am glad she lives out of state or she'd have killed me. Our conversation:

Amber: "KyAnn are you freaking retarded? You have chest pain, shortness of breath, you can't feel your arm, AND a blinding headache-- and you went to bed instead of to the doctor?"

Me: "I sounds worse when you say it like that. I thought it would get better."

Amber: "I love you as a sister, but I hate you as a physician."

Me: "Really?"

Amber: "I do. I'm calling Mom."

Me: "Don't call Mom."

Amber: "Can you feel your arm now?"

Me (lying): "Yes."

Amber: "I can hear that you are lying. Did it every occur to you that you might need that arm and might want to make sure you still have muscle function? Or did it occur to you that sometimes chest pain leads to death? Your DEATH?"

Me: I'm not dying.

Amber: "Get your butt into your car and drive directly to the ER or I will kill you myself."

So I went. And they took great care of me. After an MRI I learned I have a herniated disc and pinched nerve caused by swelling on my C-6 vertebrae. This is a picture from the Internet, but the C-6 is the bone right above the C-7. I have a follow up with a neurosurgeon, but we are hopeful once the swelling goes down everything will calm down and go right back into place.

They have a theory about how I got hurt. The ER doc thinks that during skydiving I tightened my neck to pull some pressure off my painful shoulder/arm and compensate for my injured left arm during the jump. When the parachute deployed and stopped the 200 mph momentum my neck was not in a normal position (because it's working overtime to help the arm/shoulder/elbow) and it was jerked in a way that it wouldn't normally be jerked. Then during soccer I knocked the C-6 again and caused muscle spasms from the C-6 which manifested as chest pain and sent rapid fire shots down random nerves to my jaw and butt. All is calmed down now. I have some good drugs and I have to take it easy for a few days. My prognosis is great. This post got long, but now you know the story of how a simple cartwheel landed me in the ER.

Don't Worry, Be Appy (Appaloosa That Is)

2010-08-06T19:30:00.002-06:00

My middle daughter Carrie (3 of 5) is an equestrian Rock Star! She rode 109 miles on a horse on the Chief Joseph Trail Ride. She went with my Dad, Mom, my brother Wade, Uncle Bart, Aunt Velma, and my cousin Bailey. They rode in Idaho and Montana. Did I mention it was 109 miles! On horseback! Here is Carrie and the horse she rode. You must ride a registered Appaloosa horse on the Chief Joe ride. Mandatory. Photos are courtesy of my Mom and cousin Bailey. I didn't go.Picture of the riders headed out in the morning. There were people from all 50 states (every state was represented) and from England and Norway. Carrie made a lot of new friends. I told her to say, "May the horse be with you." But she told me I was dumb. This is my Dad's 15th or 18th time (or something like that). My brother has been 5 or 6 times. This was Carrie's first time. She would do it again in a heartbeat. The horse she rode is green (that means young and stupid and not very trained) and it spooks easy and has thrown her off a time or two. Her horse is only scared of two things: 1. Things that move and 2. Things that don't. I gave her strict instructions to NOT get hurt and to be a Velcro butt in the saddle. Do not lose a butt vs. saddle battle. This is the order she was to remain in at all times:
Sky
Carrie
Saddle
Horse
Ground
She did it. 109 miles without a problem. This is my Dad, Carrie, and my brother Wade. It was my Mom's 10th year and she got her 10 year certificate. The horses get certificates too. My Mom is going to kill me for putting this photo on here, because she hasn't had a shower in days, but she's still a HOTTIE!

I have said before and I will say again. My brother Wade is the FUNNIEST person I know. And I know A LOT of people. Wade is hands down the funniest. He is a dork and he cracks me up non-stop. My brother Wade hit his max capacity for days without a shower and took matters into his own hands.

Does it look cold? Carrie said the creek was FREEZING. The elevation was so high that the temps only got up to the mid-50's and it was late July. They rode in snow. Carrie said she could only put her feet in for a minute because the water was so cold. Wade is funnier than he is smart. :-) Look at the head wash:

My cousin Bailey and Wade. Wade is making "dub-a-ya for Wade hands" and apparently studs wear yellow. Good news for me because I am wearing yellow right now. You may want to go grab a yellow shirt...

This isn't Carrie's first rodeo, she's a horsewoman through and through. She has a custom saddle that my Dad built for her with his own two hands. 20 miles into a 109 mile ride her saddle was rubbing her horse raw. Carrie had to make the decision to continue in the custom saddle (which is very comfortable and padded) or change to a lighter (but ill fitting) saddle. Carrie moved to the lighter saddle to make her horse feel better. So she rode the last 89 miles on a hard, unfitted saddle. Her butt was DONE, but she and her horse made it. I'm really proud of her. Pretty cool accomplishment for a 15 year old. You know you're a real cowgirl when there is hay in your bra. Spotted butts drive Carrie nuts! Carrie is hoping that she can be in Appaloosa Journal Magazine like my butt. If you don't know what I'm talking about read this post about my actual butt (it's famous) in the Appaloosa Journal.
True Story: If Prince Charming rode up today on a white horse, she'd ditch him and take the horse. Way to go Carrie. I am so proud of you!

If I Picked A Day To Fly, This Would Be It

2010-08-02T18:49:00.015-06:00

Dear Mom: I didn't tell you about this ahead of time because I knew you'd FREAK OUT. I am sorry. I hope we can still be friends. Sit down Mom because look what I did this last weekend.I'm a wannabe Frisbee and a daredevil. I've always been an adrenaline junkie. Anything life-threatening, dangerous, or terrifying in any way...and I'm IN! I've always been like that. I was hard to parent. When I was little, like 6, I would jump from the top part of the barn into the hay. I love to be high in the sky. I remember as a child playing in the irrigation ditch in the pasture and intentionally going through the irrigation pipe underwater. I'd hold my breath, dive in, and go though them. Do you know how lucky I am to have lived? If my kids did that I'd kill them! I love danger! I want to live in a world where my only decisions are: Should I jump off it, climb it, or swing from it? My friends and I decided that in this, the year we turn 40, that we would jump from a plane. Most are already 40, some are getting ready to turn. Left to Right: Angie, Me, Rachelle, Suzy, Pleshette, and Lollie. We all went to high school together except Angie and we've adopted her as honorary even though she's a year younger and graduated from a high school out of state.Pleshette and I getting into our parachute suits. I considered wearing my brown pants. I am doing the Mr. Roger's Neighborhood shoe toss and Pleshette has agreed to be my neighbor. You jump, I jump, remember?I usually only fly on a broomstick, but decided to use a parachute today. This, seriously, was the coolest thing I've ever done. We jumped from 12,000 feet and I did a free fall for about a minute at 200 miles an hour and then 6-7 minutes floating down. It didn't feel like falling, it felt like flying. It was scarier than crap stepping to the edge of the plane and jumping out, but I conquered it. With my eyes open. It was the bomb dot com and freaking amazing. If you want to go let me know I can be ready in 3 minutes. Actually I have to wait until my arm heals, but that's a whole other post. I actually steered and landed this parachute. You have to jump tandem the first 4 times before you can jump alone. Look at me coming down.We are tighter than facelifts and flyer than spaceships! Pleshette, Rachelle, and I hit the Charlie's Angels pose after the jump. My hair is completely windblown and super duper awesome! It seriously cracked me up that we all applied lipstick before we jumped. I do all my own stunts. This was amazing and something I will always remember. I highly recommend it.

Here is the video of my jump. It's 7 minutes long and when it gets to the black spots, hang on because there is more. I am a COMPLETE SPAZ in my video (moreso than usual) which is because I am full of adrenaline. I clap and jump when he tells me I am jumping first and when I land I just keep saying, "Let's do it again, lets do it again, lets do it again." I am a dork. Also my chipmunk cheeks flapping in the wind is pretty unattractive, but since we are friends, I'll let you see it. Mom, sit down and take a few deep breaths before you watch. I'm fine and I lived.

Make Over? It Needs To Be Run Over.

2010-07-30T16:15:00.006-06:00

It's been a week of make overs for both my blog and me.

First, my blog. I did my own mini blog make over. It kinda still sucks, but it's better than it was and it's getting warmer to where I want it to be. I made the header all by myself. Be impressed. It isn't straight and doesn't match, but quite frankly I'm crooked and unmatched too. I wanted a signature so I Googled signatures and found this cool site called My Live Signature that makes FREE signatures and it only took me an hour and a half to install it. (Hint: Google "how to install blog signature" and follow the steps) Then I added buttons with names on them above my kids photos in the sidebar.

Carrie walked by while I was making the buttons and said: "What are you doing?"

Me: "Making buttons for the sidebar above your photo."

Carrie: "Why?"

Me: "So people can vote on which of you kids is their favorite."

Carrie, without hesitation: "I'll totally win."

The buttons do NOT vote, but ALL of my kids have clicked on them and tried. I'm going to report the fake results at our weekly family meeting on Sunday night. Do you think stuff like that will send me to hell?

I still need to figure out how to make my sidebar stuff centered and uniform and then I need to figure out how to make a blog button that people can take and put on their blogs. And a bunch more stuff. My blog, like the Mona Lisa, is a work in progress. Next, I had a little mini make over. My friends got all 7th grader on me and did my makeup one night. When I admitted I owned one tube of lipstick, had never worn blush, and all my makeup came from Wal-Mart. They freaked out. The reaction would've been less if I'd of released 100 wasps into the house. Wow, overreact much? Lollie (her REAL name on her birth certificate) applying my lipstick. In this photo: Lollie and KyAnn, and Pleshette is taking the photo. WE HAVE STRIPPER NAMES! I am laughing because I don't understand all the makeup fuss. But I had to admit. I looked AMAZING when she was done with me. I learned that there are no ugly women, just lazy ones. Maybe it's Maybelline, maybe it's Photoshop? So Lollie and Pleshette chartered a trip to this store. Ulta Beauty. I had never been there and I would NEVER have gone on my own if they wouldn't have taken me.

The whole freaking store is full of makeup. Way more than the three aisles of CoverGirl at the Wal-mart. I bought this. It was A LOT. Because my husband reads this blog, we won't discuss how much.

I want you to know I LOVE the new makeup and I have had a lot of complements. I am glad my friends took me. HOWEVER, the mirror doesn't show what's inside of a person and that's what beauty is all about. What you do, the way you think, your awesome personality, your confidence--that's what makes you beautiful. Beauty is within.

So what do you do when you see someone completely gorgeous? Multiple choice. Do you

A) Stare

B) Secretly hate her
C) Stare some more

D) Do like I do and just set the mirror down

I'm Such A Loser, But I'm Your Loser

2010-07-29T06:22:00.002-06:00

So I'm preparing for the first Thursday night in a LONG time that I will be home. I'll be home tonight because I am done. I quit my Women's Dodgeball League at the end of the session last week. Sha! Yes I play (correction, played) dodgeball. In a league. With refs and everything...

So tonight is Thursday night, I'll be home, and I'm going to try not to be kinda bummed. I quit dodgeball for two reasons:

1. I am busy and I work full time and have 5 kids. If I'm going to be gone for an hour once a week, I'm going to be either having a blast or be hitting my target heart rate.

2. We lost EVERY single solitary game for 7 months straight. We never won once. I kept justifying it that we were destined for greatness, but we were pacing ourselves, always just ready to peak and start to win. Finally I had to just admit that it was time to move on. We played 7 months with no improvement and I am too competitive to get beat week after week after week. Sometimes if at first you don't succeed, then maybe you just suck!!! And I did. And I own it. And I'm not going to beat myself up about it because I'm good at other things (says the loser...)

I will miss playing with my kids. Here are Paige and Carrie (with her back turned and running) playing. Jill played too sometimes. But we do enough stuff as a family that I'll spend as much time with them. Check me out at our game two weeks ago. I had to come straight from work and didn't have time to go home and change clothes. I am barefoot and in slacks. If you have a sport you can play in the same clothes you wore to work (I did take off my blazer and my dress shoes), then it's sorta not a sport. I never broke a sweat.
Oh and yes that's a man wearing black next to me. Um, yeah, a women's league. But we didn't have enough players and the dudes wanted to play. We STILL lost.

So I'm looking for a new activity to fill my Thursday nights. I will miss my friends who are still playing but I offered to sub if they need me and/or provide moral support. Don't worry I'm still playing soccer. How pathetic am I? A dodgeball dropout...

So What If I'm Dyslexic, I Can Still Kick Your Tub

2010-07-27T17:33:00.002-06:00

"Have you seen Shayla?"

"No, you?"

"No."

Full scale search ensued. Looked high, looked low. Yelling her name. No response. Even hit ctrl+F on the keyboard, didn't find her. Then finally when I yelled her name she responded. And I followed her voice and found her new clubhouse where she had made a bed and was playing her Leapster.

Rub a dub dub, cute chick in the tub!

I Feel Sorry For The Kids Of The Future, They'll Have To Learn More History Than Us

2010-07-26T17:06:00.003-06:00

Took the kiddos to the Utah Museum of Natural History. Things that may or may not have been said at the Museum:

1. "That dinosaur took a dump bigger than you."
2. "We'da made sucky Indians, if we'da had to wait for Mom to grind corn or make a blanket, we'da all died."
3. "Ma'am if you take another picture with your flash on we're going to ask you to leave."
4. "Mom can we make obscene petroglyphs?"
5. "Stop it before I knock you so hard you land back on the short bus."
6. "I am amazed by all the useless information in your head."
7. "If we're gonna get caught, let's make it count."
8. "You couldn't spend more than an hour in this place unless you taught 4th grade."
9. "You know you never hear much about Daggett County."
10. "That's as old as Mom."
11. "Where did you go? " Reply: "To dance my dance."
12. "Ma'am seriously, if you use your flash one more time."

Oh and Carrie and Paige sang Muskrat Love to the muskrat exhibit. Loudly. I'm not going to lie, I kinda swelled with pride that they knew all the words.

Here are 3 of my 4 teens (Jill was camping with her fiance's family) posing with their favorite Christmas gift. Coal!!! Christmas is 1 day of coal, vs. 364 days of fun. I think they'll take their chances.
Multiple (rude) comments were made about how I used to ride this to school. If history repeats itself I am SO getting a dinosaur.

Title of this exhibit is "Not A Dinosaur." It looked like a dinosaur to me. Why the crap is it not a dinosaur??? Following that logic, my exhibit is named "Not 20 pounds overweight." Me and my boy. When did he get taller than me? I'm 5'10". He's 14.

Shayla is totally awed by the Museum every time we go. We go annually or sometimes more. The first Monday of every month is free. We didn't go the first Monday, but we scored free admission by going 1 hour before closing and flashing my base ID. Arm pump!

Carrie is gansta triceratops style.

Open the door, get on the floor. Everybody walk the dinosaur. (Give yourself 10 points if you know this song.)

Carrie is my most fearless child (like her momma) and here she is holding a Japanese Hissing Cockroach. La Cucaracha! The Museum is having a bug exhibit. We liked the frog exhibit last year better, but bugs are good too. My love for you is like a Cockroach and a Twinkie, nothing can destroy it.

The puppet show titled "Love Is Like A Bug In Your Mouth" quickly got out of hand. Who's kids are these?!?

Is that a gigantic tarantula puppet on your shoulder or are you just happy to see me?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present Turkey 1 and Turkey 2.

That's my boy! He is aiming at the 5-point buck that you can't see.

So many things I want to say... putting my hand firmly over my mouth.

In the pit house in the Freemont Indian display. Group love on my kids.

Shayla found her own dwelling.

Resting on a dinosaur bone.

Carrie assembled the dinosaur puzzle on the wall. I had to photoshop out her crack. You are welcome.

Cute girls gellin' like a felon with a dinosaur footprint.

Shayla is the same size as a dinosaur print.

Ummmm, I'm pretty sure she's not supposed to be IN this. She was digging for dinosaur bones and just climbed in. Shayla would have taken this dino home if I'd of let her. Have I told you lately how glad I am that Shayla isn't a twin?

All and all we give the Museum 2 thumbs way way up, especially since it was free. And to the other Museum patrons who didn't get us, that's really sad for you because this was some funny crap right here. Hooray for fun family memories!!!

Arrange Whatever Pieces Come Your Way

2010-07-22T21:53:00.009-06:00

I am a fixer. A do-er. A jump-in-with-both-feet-and-rolled-up-sleeves kind of a girl. Always have been. My Mother has a note that my preschool teacher wrote when I was 3 years old that says (and this is a direct quote) "KyAnn does not so much play with the other children as she does arrange them into groups and give them things to do and toys to play with." It's in my DNA. I am skilled at building a team and solving a problem. I can find you the right people to get your job done and I make crap happen. I become very distressed if I can't fix and help. And I'm distressed and I need your help, because it's going to take a team of us to make a difference.

Let me explain. I have a BBFF (Blogging Best Friend Forever) who is in crisis. Her daughter has been placed in foster care, her dad is in the hospital, and her husband is out of work. This poor, sweet woman is getting dismantled. She is Life's pinata right now. I understand that into every life a little rain must fall, but our dear friend Dottie is getting deluged and the water is still coming down in buckets. I've never met her, I don't know where she lives, or what she looks like. I do know that she needs a Blog hug.

So I need you to go to her Blog and follow her and leave her comments to know she is loved and not alone. Please read the rules of her Blog on the top bar. This is very important. She has a daughter in foster care who she must protect. If any of you violate the rules of her Blog I will personally roundhouse kick you. Twice. So go to her. Because that's what we do as Blogger women (and men). We rally. We circle tightly around and send love. We send frequent comments and emails. We offer smiles and hugs and prayers. We share similarities and rejoice in differences. And Dottie needs that very much right now. She needs you. And she says it's ok for me to send you by.

And if you have anything that can help her, please let her know. I sent her two books that have been powerful in my life. One on leadership and one on resolving conflict. It's all I can do. I can send books and send followers and send prayers. And for my fixer, do-er DNA it's better than nothing. Never walk past an opportunity to help. Please go to Dottie now and let's see if we can all love her through this tough time. Together.

Her blog is HERE.

If The #2 Pencil Is So Popular, Why Is It Still #2?

2010-07-19T21:03:00.013-06:00

I only have one basketball hoop and one boy. But look what I found when I came home today: Seven! Count them. Seven basketballs out in my yard. The ball clear out by the fence is kinda hard to see, but trust me, it's there. Would I lie to you? Um, maybe. :-) LQTM. Laugh Quietly To Myself. It's more honest.

Suddenly I have over 300 Blog followers. I love them like children and I want to play tackle hug-tag with each and every one of them. Cool beans. 300 people! I recently realized I may have been what Willis was talkin' 'bout. The thing about Blog followers is that there are people who like them and don't care if the world presses their noses up against the glass around their life. (You sick voyeurs!) And then there are more private Bloggers who Blog solely for close family and friends. I am in the first category. Let's be honest, I'm a full blown Blog whore. Welcome to the Lemming Zone. I love love love my followers/minions. I'm going to share with you how I got all my followers. Hint: It's NOT my charming personality. (Gasp!) The secret is Blog Follower Blog Hops which occur on Tuesdays and Fridays. So this week for the first time ever I am participating openly in a Tuesday Blog Hop and I invite you all to join me in the world of Blog Peeping Toms. Unless you're not into that. Then you can stop reading now.

Today my Blog is being featured in the #5 spot on the Follow Me Back Tuesday Blog Hop. Go here to join the Blog Hop. I'd like to thank the Academy.

If you've never done a Blog Hop, let me ed-ja-ma-cate you. Click on the link above and go to the blue link at the bottom that says "Click here to enter." Type the name of your Blog and the URL (mine is http://checketts-myers-clan.blogspot.com/) Then hit submit. Click on Blogs that look interesting to you in the Blog Hop and follow them. Definitely leave them a comment and tell them you are following them and invite them to follow you. Leave your Blog address so they can get to you. That's it!

To get a buncha followers, repeat until insane. Make sure you follow all your followers back. It's only polite.

My Goal Is To Replace My Soul With Caffeine And Become Immortal

2010-07-16T19:58:00.029-06:00

This week has been a double scoop of Hell with a Hell flavored cherry on top. Just so you know I don't consider Hell a swear word. It's a place. Like Philadelphia. Or Dayton. Example: Oh my Dayton! So it's not a swear word. I worked over 60 hours this week. I have not eaten ONE thing good for me all week, I haven't gotten more than 5 hours of sleep a night, the last time I exercised was WEEKS ago, and I have taken my consumption of Diet Dr Pepper to all new levels. I drank more soda this week than oil that spilled into the Gulf. This hyper-hydration/caffeine poisoning combo led to what I like to call the Caf-Pow Management Style. Caf-Pow is me hopped up on quarts of caffeine coming at people like a roundhouse kicking ninja spider monkey. Super effective until 2:00 PM when I became narcoleptic. It's been a looooong week. The best part was where I mixed up the Calvary (Jesus) and cavalry (military). Take it from me, these two words are very close, your spell check will not fix them, and mixing up Jesus' Crucifixion location and mounted military will make the room roll with laughter. And at the end of the week I collapsed on my couch. My six year old Shayla gets the photo credit for this shot:A complaint was received through official channels that my children were not the focus of this Blog. Duh! Of course they aren't. It's my blog. If they want to be the focus of a Blog they can start their own. I told them the same thing about their Baby Books: "If you want one, go buy one, and put some pictures in it." But to pacify this complainer, here is an update on my spawnlings:

Jill went to South Carolina to watch her fiance Devin graduate from Army Boot Camp. This photo says it better than any words I could use.

These two are so excited to be married in a few months. Devin is now in Texas and Jill is going to school full time and working two jobs.

Paige is enjoying her summer. She is doing landscaping in my parents yard and she has attended two leadership camps.

My Mom took Paige and Carrie to the Shakespeare Festival and to Tuhican to see Cats. Poor photo quality from a cell phone, but great photo. My kids are freaking awesome.
Carrie: Carrie is wonderful. This photo cracks me up. She has drawn smiley faces on her toes. I love this shirt!!!!!Mike is delightful and he practices with his Comp League Basketball Team 5 days a week. It's bright outside, he's not this squinty. He travels in a swarm of friends and is rarely spotted alone.Shayla misses school every single day. I was the same way. I hated summer, she does too. She misses her friends and learning. She is counting down the days until she can go back to school.

Oh My Lanta! Consider yourself updated!!!

Anybody Remotely Interesting Is Crazy In Some Way

2010-07-13T21:06:00.015-06:00

Do you have any irrational fears? I do. Since we have grown so close on my Blog, I feel as if I can tell you anything. I can tell you my deepest, darkest fears and you won't judge me. Or mock me. Or suggest shock therapy or pills. Do not send me the name of your therapist (unless he is sexy and shirtless). My fear is completely irrational and I've had it as long as I can remember. My. Whole. Life. I am NOT afraid of spiders, rats, snakes, or bats. I actually like those. I'm not afraid of the dark, the dark is afraid of me. My worst fear is not a nuclear-equipped robot ninja dragon from the future. Awe-some! Before I tell you I want you to know that I am not alone in this fear. Google it. There are a lot of people like me who get completely creeped out by this. I've never actually met anyone else, but the internet is full of examples.

My fear makes me run and my skin crawl. It makes me cringe just to type this. I am having a physical reaction just typing about my fear. I'm going to blurt it out. I am TERRIFIED of cotton balls. No LOL. For real. I HATE cotton balls. There is no cotton in my home. I hate it in the top of medicine bottles, someone else has to take it out. If I see it I run. Fast. We're not talking a little reaction. I have a full blown, Grand Mal, daddy whopper freak out. I HATE COTTON BALLS. Always have, always will.

I love my cousin Jake and his lovely new wife Cassey. They had a wedding reception this last week and I attended. They tried to freaking KILL ME. Look what was crawling all over everywhere at his wedding. AS THE THEME!
Oh my HELL it's cotton balls. E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E!!! I ran and screamed. Finally I got the courage to go into the room. She had cotton in her bouquet! I lovemy cousin, the wedding was BEAUTIFUL, and I had to hug his wife and I really like his wife (she's awesome) but I was seriously nauseous over the cotton.
It was everywhere. Imagine 100 black widows crawling on you while teetering on a burning plank 100 miles in the air with a imminent zombie attack. While licking a snake. That is less fear and anxiety than I had. I would rather lick a rattlesnake on the lips. Everywhere I looked was cotton... Maybe therapy could help me, but running and screaming obscenities is faster and cheaper.

So I vamoosed. Look how cute Paige and Shayla are. Paige was completely unaffected by the cotton and told me to "stop being such a spaz, you're wrecking the wedding."
This is TRUE LOVE. This is my 93 year old Grandpa who I adore and he's got FRICKIN cotton on his blazer and I'm hugging him anyway. Strategically placed myself away from the devil cotton. This is me and my Mom. My Mom had no cotton on her. I checked, twice, before I hugged her.

I own the fact that this is crazy to be afraid of cotton. I recognize that I am strong, independent woman who is empowered to make decisions on what and who I am afraid of. I concede that possibly my irrational fear has impacted my life negatively. I once punched a beautician who put a big, long strip of cotton on my head while giving me a perm. The uppercut I sent to her was inappropriate; in hindsight, so was the perm. Look people I'm not about to grow a pair and get over this fear. So accept me as I am. After all, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself (and cotton).

When I Was Little I Layed In My Twin Sized Bed Wondering Where My Twin Was

2010-07-11T21:03:00.010-06:00

Make me a promise will you? Pinkie swear it so I know you mean it. If I ever go a week without Blogging please summon your local authorities. We're talking call 911 people. Because if (God forbid) anything bad ever happened to me, I am fairly certain that the only people who would notice would be my Blog followers. And y'all better notice if I'm AWOL and issue the Amber Alert. Because it could be WEEKS around here before anyone notices I'm gone.

Let me explain. My work is hell on earth lately. H-E-L-L on earth. I'm working on a huge project and I've been putting in long hours. On Friday I went in at 0600 and didn't come home until 21 hours later. I did leave for one hour to go play in an indoor soccer game, but other than that I was holed up (not ho'd up, hole'd up) working on this project. I arrived home and crawled in bed at 0300 on Saturday AM. When I awoke I asked my husband and my spawnlings if they had missed me. Blank stares. I had been gone --without a phone call, text, smoke signal, nothing-- for 21 hours and no one had noticed. Mom freaking WHO?

Granted I live in a world and work at a job where I can't always tell them where I am and what I'm doing so they are used to Mom disappearing. But 21 hours?!? And no one even checked on me?!?

So if I ever really disappear, you'll have to take the lead because it could be WEEKS (months) around here before anyone notices I'm gone. If you need to give a missing persons report here's the pertinent details and distinguishing features: I don't have a middle name, I'm 5' 10" and 105 pounds (LMAO!!!), reddish hair, green eyes, super sexy (make sure you include that detail in the missing persons report), I have 9 scars from removed skin cancer on my face, arms, and shoulders, a scar from knee surgery on my right knee, and unmistakable dental records. In my dental x-ray you will find 2 metal plates, 8 metal screws, 2 wire bundles, and a grafted chin bone. Seriously. Not joking. Oh and use this picture on the milk carton:

Big Or Small, Save Them All

2010-07-10T18:31:00.004-06:00

One of my BFF's Stephanie is ALL about the boobs. Specifically, she is all about breast cancer. Never estimate the power of cleavage! This is Stephanie and her breast cancer awareness supporting friend in his super hot outfit. I already have this vest (I fill it out a little more), but I've got to get me a skirt just like his. Every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion. :-)
Steph's Aunt passed away from breast cancer and Steph and her family are doing the Susan G. Koman 3 Day Walk For The Cure. She will walk 60 miles in 3 days to raise money and awareness for breast cancer. 60 MILES! On foot. She feels that strongly about saving second base! This is her family at a breast cancer walk. Steph is second from the right. They call themselves Team Piggy.Steph and Team Piggy are holding an online auction on her blog to raise money for breast cancer. Last year they raised over $14K. Isn't that amazing?!? This year I want to help her and I hope you will too. Click on this link to get to her blog to see all the awesome things they are auctioning. I've bid on two things, and I'm eying two more. This is an AWESOME cause and you know I wouldn't put it on my blog if I didn't completely endorse both the person and the cause. If you don't want to bid, you can go to this link to donate to the cause directly. Even a dollar will help. I am awed by my friend Stephanie and her willingness to jump in and not stand idly by. Whether you are two-breasted, one-breasted, or no-breasted this is a two-fisted fight and Hey Cancer you picked the wrong chick cuz these ladies are coming out swinging.

So go check out her auction. You can pay with credit card and paypal and the details on shipping are over there too. Oh and while we are talking boobs, don't forget to check 'em. Squeeze your own. Cuz I care about your pair.

3,678 Days Since I Gave A Crap

2010-07-07T19:32:00.000-06:00

The caption for this photo is "Yes Ms. Cougar I would like some candy."These are my friends and I at the Royal Bliss concert. Left to Right: Rachelle (I HATE her she is 40 and she looks 18 and if I can't believe I allow her to be friends with me and look this good with her perky 32DDs), Me (sagging to my waist DDs), Lollie, and Pleshette. We totally color coordinate in the teal and we didn't even plan it. I took some crap for being in sleeves, but I am always in sleeves for the following reasons:

1. I do not support the second amendment. (Google it if you need to...)
2. I have wobbly, flappy, fatty bits on my arms
3. I am pasty white and I have had multiple skin cancers removed from my upper arms/shoulders and they are super covered in scars
4. My garments would hang out (super sexy, I know)
5. Modest is the hottest. Ok, Rachelle is the hottest. I conceded that already. But I am DEFINITELY the 5th hottest person in the photo above.

This next photo is for my male readership. Rachelle again. You are welcome. This is my husband's screen saver. Except he cropped me out of it.

This is Royal Bliss. They formed in 1997 in Salt Lake City and they have a recording contract with Capitol Records. They were playing at a local Club in SLC so off we went.

Check out this crowd. Um, the children who attended were a teensy bit younger than us, but we held our own and even got to the front of the stage a few times.

The lead singer is Neil Middleton and the guitarist is Taylor Richards. Geez, I sound like a groupie. As if. But I have been to a TON of concerts. I wanna rock and roll all night, and party every day. Been there, rocked that!

So if you're even in SLC and you wanna be a soldier in "Operation This Ends Badly", give me a shout. You can come hang out with some 40 year olds who laugh so hard they pee their pants. You can come laugh with us. Or at us. We're not picky.P.S. To the judgemental person who made the snotty comments about how her husband would never let her out to a Club with just the girls and that I should be ashamed for being a Mormon and in a Club and what would my kids think... You can bite me. And bite me again.

Celebrating Amer-I-Can

2010-07-04T17:37:00.011-06:00

Happy 234th Birthday America!!! I am the MOST flipping patriotic person you will meet. I love my Country.

To kick off the 4th of July weekend, I wore my America socks to play indoor soccer Friday night. Important Fact: I do not have cankles, I am wearing shin guards.
Yay! This is Carrie riding in the 4th of July parade in Clearfield. She's riding in supplies to a remote Scout Camp tomorrow on horseback and her 100 mile ride is next week. My daughter loves to be on a horse. The horse is Shanidon, I used to ride her mother in Horse 4-H and Junior Posse. They look a lot alike. My Dad made the saddle and the heart breast collar.

No 4th Weekend is complete without the BBQ. Why are you all up in my grill???

And my Mom's famous pasta salad... I could eat my weight in this salad.

My nephew, nieces, and kids had a water balloon fight at my parents house at the BBQ. I jumped in. I issued a challenge and then my nephew Carson and I raced for the water balloons. He's super fast for a 5 year old. He was faster than me (sad I know), but I'm bigger so I cheated and restrained him. If you ever find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics SUCK! (Tangent: I was in a class on military warfare once with a bunch of high ranking military dudes and I had to write down a military strategy I would use in my life and I wrote "I use tactics to eat tictacs." And nobody got it. And I tried to explain it and they all thought I was REALLY STUPID!) Back to my water balloon tactics.

Here I am soaking Carson. I know he's only 5, but this is War. Look at all the other adults in the back of the photo standing and watching. I am the only one in on the fight. I did help him take off his wet shirt.

And then I soaked him again. And I soaked my nieces and my daughter Shayla (on the ground). I am a water balloon Ninja. By the time you finish reading this I would have soaked all the kids again.

Getting Carson again. He LOVED it. Carson finally has me cornered. Bushes behind me. Nowhere to go. Never give up. Never surrender. There will be no white flag above my door. If you admit defeat, defeat will admit you.

And they soaked me. Look at them running in retreat. My shirt is wet, my levis are wet. I am soaked. Defeat is not bitter, unless you swallow it. And I did. Next time I'm wearing my swimming suit and bringing my supersoaker and I'm taking down the 5 year old.

Worst Wife EVER, Seriously

2010-07-03T11:22:00.005-06:00

I couldn't find my husband Chad and I needed him. So I went looking for him in all the usual places.

Yard. Nope.
Garage. Nope.
Shed. Nope.
Other Shed. (Yes, he has two sheds.) Nope.
Bathrooms. Nope.

I went to the basement and noticed the door to the crawl space was open. I found him. The crawl space has a cement floor and is only about 4 feet tall so you have to squat down to move around. You have to watch both the videos to see what he was visiting. I CANNOT stop laughing about how funny this is. You have to watch both. I did not know these were here. Chad says, "I had to hang them somewhere."

The video is kind of dark, but there is an antelope head, a pheasant, and three fish hanging. I kinda feel bad, but not bad enough to let him hang this crap in the house.

I Didn't Do It And You Can't Prove It...

2010-07-01T06:46:00.004-06:00

...unless I put the pictures on Facebook and my Blog. Which I did. I am disinclined to play by the rules. Last night we went toilet papering. Yes we are 40 or almost 40. Rachelle, Me, Pleshette, and Suzy. Photo Credit: A random neighbor who came over to see what we were doing and offered to help us. We're all going to hell and I'm driving the bus. Today is our friend Brad's birthday so we TP'd his house so he and his wife and kids would have something lovely to wake up to. We have MAD toilet paper skillz. Rachelle and Suzy hadn't been toilet papering since Junior High. Pleshette and I go frequently...

I totally launched this toilet paper into the tree. It's taller than it looks in this photo. It's tough work being this naughty all the time.

If you look closely you can see 100 plastic forks we put in the lawn. We also opened bags of colorful pom poms and spread them all over the grass. The Neighborhood Watch could stand to kick it up a notch in Brad's neighborhood.

Thanks to my friends for supporting my idea. I texted them to tell them I bought 17 bucks worth of toilet paper at Sam's Club for Brad and they were all in. I love being the mastermind. And now if you'll excuse me, I have values to twist and minds to warp. We prettymuch rock at toilet papering.

Signs that we stuck all over Brad's garage doors and front door. I brought blue painters tape so we didn't hurt the paint. We were very careful of the flower beds. I also called Brad's wife the day before and told her to turn off the sprinklers because this would suck to clean up if it was wet. See I do care! I'm 333, only half evil.

Suzy and I in the pitch dark. We genuinely feel bad about how old Brad is.

This is my favorite part. We hung bras from the light post to let him know we love him and consider him such a good friend. Because nothing says Happy Birthday like a pair of 44D cups hanging from your streetlight.

I Have Deja Vu And Amnesia, I Think I've Forgetten This Before

2010-06-29T21:33:00.006-06:00

We have the worst Toothfairy EVER at our house! She totally forgot! Our Toothfairy would forget her own head if it werent crammed so far up her butt. In other news, my spectacular neice Madi's softball team won the Championship for her division tonight. She hit 3 home runs! That's my girl!!!!! Strong work Madi.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

2010-06-28T16:01:00.009-06:00

What a difference a day makes... Poor Shayla has pneumonia. Full blown, you can see it on an x-ray, coughing up a lung, pneumonia. Who gets pneumonia in June?!? Shayla does, because every time she gets a runny nose she ends up with pneumonia. Luckily this time there were no ambulance rides or hospitalizations (as we have done those in the past with her). She's on buffalo-sized dosages of steroids which make her:

1. Hungry. In the immortal words of Duran Duran she is Hungry Like the Wolf.

2. A Grumpapotamus

3. Unable to sleep even though she is exhausted

4. The good news is she's sounding less like Darth Vader

So it's super fun to be at our house right now with poor sick girl. I called her pulminologist today at Primary Children's Hospital who said we were on the right track and hoped we'd turned the corner. She can't play with her friends and she's MAD! This is her today late afternoon still smiling in her Sponge Bob pajamas and wearing swim goggles for some odd reason. Shortly after this photo she told me she never wants to go to Junior High because they don't have monkey bars. Paige is attending a Leadership Camp in Ephraim. She and I left home at 0530 to take her. 0530 is freaking early. It was a long drive which was made much more tolerable by this little slice of musical awesomeness: ERASURE's top 40 digitally remastered. Yeah BABY! Paige and I sang along at the top of our lungs (so much so that I am a little hoarse).

Paige is already an amazing leader. She knows the way, shows the way, and goes the way. Leadership Camp Rocks!!!

Whilst in Ephraim I stocked up on my favorite soda which due to STUPID Pepsi/Coke bottling and distribution agreements cannot be sold in bottle or can form (only fountain) within 2.5 hours of my house. Sanpete County is the closest canned Pibb. I loaded up. This is just some of the haul. My Grandpa Christensen loved Mr. Pibb too.The turtles moved outside yesterday. It's finally warm enough to put them outside. They'll stay out until the weather gets cold. They love it outside. Three turtles. The gold fish are their food. I need a favor. Paige's good friend is a model and in a modeling contest. To advance to the next round she needs votes on facebook. Her name is Jacqueline. This is her photo so you know which one to vote for. She's in the very left hand column about halfway down.

To vote (and please please please do) please click on the following facebook link to vote. You have to *like* Wet Seal (Mom, that's a clothing store in the mall) and then click on the Model Search Tab and vote for her. Then click allow or skip. That's it. You can vote once a day and that would be AWESOME if you would.

Go HERE to vote http://www.facebook.com/wetseal?v=app_117219424983201

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I need all of you to help. I'll owe ya one and you can call it due. I'll buy you lunch. Anything you want off the dollar menu.

A Positive Attitude May Not Solve All Your Problems, But It Will Annoy Enough People To Make It Worth Your While

2010-06-27T09:03:00.016-06:00

Our weekend in review.

Mike came home from a week of Scout Camp! A week without my only son. I missed him like crazy. We actually had leftovers a few times this week... I am so excited to announce that Mike earned the I-Smell-Like-A-Homeless-Man-From-A-Hot-Humid-State-Who-Was-Rolled-In-A-Dumpster-Full-Of-Dead-Animals-And-Bad-Cheese Merit Badge. Oh and look at the present he left me in the hallway outside his room:
Most of the things in this pile had to be thrown away. Including socks, underwear, pillow, towel, and some shirts. I wasn't touching it. Boy Scout Law: You pack it in, you pack it out (to the trashcan). The boy has been sanitized and reintroduced to civilization.

I golfed in my first ever golf tournament. You'll recall I've been taking golf lessons (I've had 4 to be exact). My work had a tournament and I didn't sign up to play, but the day before someone had to drop out and I was asked to be the replacement. You all know I how love to saw the word yes. It's my favorite word: YES! Here is my golf team. Rick, Me, Richard, and Forrest. They all used to work for me, but not anymore since I moved to my new job. We didn't intend to line up tallest to shortest, that's just how it worked out. I wish my phone had this many bars.
I played 18 holes. Golf takes a L-O-N-G time. Like hours and hours and hours. My attention span was taxed, but I did it. I like big putts and I cannot lie!!! They had a women's and men's longest drive competition. I didn't win (I was in the lead for a while), but this is the ball I hit 206 yards straight down the fairway. Cool beans! This is where it landed. I have witnesses. So kiss my putt!!!
Chad, Carrie, Shayla, and I went to the carnival in our city because we believe it's a parent's duty to introduce your children to scary, toothless Carnies, rickety rides, and bad food. The minute we got there Carrie disappeared into the middle of a group of friends and pretended she had no parents (until she needed money). So we carnivalled it up with Shay. On the ground looking up.

In the sky looking down. Luckily everyone got the Black Shoe Memo...

Shayla LOVED the rides. We like to spin.

Shayla and I comin' down, cuz that's how we slide. On good days I have mood swings. On bad days I have the whole mood playground. I encouraged Shay to try alone (yes she's 6, but I've pushed all my kids to be daring). Check out my chickadee at the top of the big slide solo. Alone. I find it interesting that the word cologne rhymes with alone. I triple dog butt dare my kids to do things all the time. And they triple dog butt dare me. I'm glad there are people who are safe and shelter their children. I am not those people. I want my kids thinking loudly, pushing boundaries, roundhouse kicking mediocrity, and embracing the remarkable. Not a lot of parenting books out there like that... Maybe I'll write one. If you want to see photos of my daughter on the house click here. Look at her ROCKING the slide solo. Next on the agenda. The rock wall. Shayla said, "Do you think I can do it?" I replied, "There's not a doubt in my mind you'll get to the top." She lanyarded up and began her accent.

This is my gal at the top. She is a climber like her Momma. To see my climbing adventure titled "The Higher You Climb, The Smaller Your Butt Looks" click here. I love to climb and be UP!

I filmed this video of Shayla rappelling down but it's sideways. I'm dumb. You have to either turn your head or your monitor, but she TOTALLY rocks the dismount and sticks the landing.

We went to the drive in movie to see Toy Story 3. If you don't live in a town with a drive in you are missing out and you can totally come see me and I'll take you. Shayla and Paige bedding down in the back of the SUV (Theresa do you see my wooby? It went to the movie with me...)

Waiting for it to get dark enough to start. Since it was a weekend it was packed.Up early the next AM to go to our city parade. Love city festivities!!! Firetrucks from neighboring cities came too. Since when are firetrucks yellow? Isn't there the 10 Commandments of Firefighting that states that trucks must be cherry red? I guess when they are coming to save my arse, I don't care what color the paint is and I'm happy to see them think outside the box on paint schemes. Firetrucks are loud.

Paige in the parade. Yeah. She hung out the window like that the whole parade. Not the most "safety first" of seating arrangements and fortunately she survived her precarious perch to the end. I told ya, daring mom = daring kids. People who know us well are surprised we don't have a head trauma a week. She's a-dork-able.

A parade entry. Compensating???

This dude rode a motorized recliner in the parade. It was ridiculous. And by ridiculous I mean AWESOME! Carrie rode a horse with my Dad. They are riding in another parade next Saturday. Goal: get a picture of the front/side of the horse at the next parade, no one wants to look at horses butts.

We hit the motherload on candy. We got a frisbee, baseball, chapstick, free bowling, pinwheel, popsicles, and a whole huge bag of candy.

I'm not done yet, a lot has happened since my last post. This is Paige, my ex-husband Matt (who is not of Asian decent even though he appears to be in this photo--he's Canadian for heavens sake), and Carrie. Matt's daughter Charlotte turned 5 so we went to a water birthday party at their house.

Charlotte and Shayla in the pool. I am so grateful that I get along so well with my ex and his wife. I LOVE them. They are a very important part of our family. I appreciate that his kid and my kid and our kids are just all shared kids and they all love and like (which is sometimes more important that love) and get along and rejoice in the relationships they have with each other.

And then, LASTLY, finally, my cousin Shelly's son got married. This is my amazing cousin Shelly and my super awesome cousin Nate. They are my Uncle Dale's kids and I love them so much.
And that is what we did this weekend. I need to go back to work tomorrow so I can get some rest...