First Day

After two years of waiting, Quincy's dream of going to Mrs. Shaefer's class finally came true. She'll be a Caterpillar on Tuesdays and Thursdays and a Friendly Frog on Wednesdays. She was so excited and had a wonderful day. Reese was a little jealous and asked if she "could just go with Quincy back to preschool where they just play all day."

Quincy must have been ready to have a moment of her own in the spotlight, because she looked at Reese and said, "Nope! You go to Kindergarten. I get to play."

After school, she told me all about her day, her new friends, the playground, the rules, her owies, the music, circle time, her teachers, and announced, "That's everything, Mom. It was a great day! Let's go home and take a nap."
So we did.
She's still asleep. What a big day!

Signs of Insanity

Babies for sale?

I was hanging some baby portraits up in Corbin's room and Quincy came in

"Oooh, Mommy! Those pictures of Corbin are so ("tho") cu-ute! I think I want another baby for your tummy, but a girl baby. Say yes, ok?" Say, 'Come on, Quincy, let's go buy one.' "

New Blog

I'm working on a blog that is just for preschool!

Right now, I am still copying all of my preschool related posts over. It is open right now to check out, but will be private in the next day or two when preschool starts up again.

It has been so fun to look back at all the fun we had last year! I do wish I had one more girl in our class, because I love balance and still have hope of a latecomer joining our class. If not, Quincy definitely has her share of boys to choose from! Valentine's Day should be interesting ;).

I can't believe how much they have grown over the summer.

I have a great group of kids coming this year, and I am really looking forward to Wednesday.
I love having them fill my home once a week.
I love teaching.
I love the way their faces light up when they make a discovery or try something new.
I love helping them share, take turns, and follow directions.
I love sharing a new (to them) book with them.
I love telling their parents about their growth and progress.
I love these kids.
I love that they love me back.

I love my job.

I'll still post some preschool posts here as well, but to see the new blog, click here.

Status Update

these are my friends.

these are my friends?

Mr. Posts This Exact Same Status Every Sunday Night tomorrow starts a new week.

[Oh My Gosh! It does for me too! Fascinating!]

Mrs. What Not to Type on a Facebook Wall to Meg Willardson (who deleted the thread): Your boobs are bigger than I remember them.

[uh...congratulations to me? I think?]

Someone Somebodyson: will never again take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night....

[the response you are all looking for, but can't think of because you are trying to unburn a mental image from your brain is, "TMI man!"]

Mrs. Made-My-Day-with-a-good-laugh I don't want to brag or make anybody jealous, but I can still fit into the earrings I wore in high school.

100 other people who reposted this I don't want to brag or make anybody jealous, but I can still fit into the earrings I wore in high school.

[haha, it's still funny, just not as funny as the first time I read it.]

Jenny Plays-Too-Much-Farmville

Jenny's Getting Huge! Jenny has completed the Homestead Expansion Mission.

[Well, good for Jenny on the Expansion, I guess. It's too bad Facebook thinks she's "getting huge"]

Joe TMI: Has a hernia, but it won't be operated on for at least a month.

Joe TMI one week later: Home early because hernia pain. and STILL No surgery

[Hey Joe, for the love of everyone you know, please do not tweet a play by play of your hernia operation on Facebook. And no pictures either. thanks.]

Meg Willardson: is sometimes not a fan of facebook.

Sleepytime Basketball

from a snoring coma on the couch:

Aaron: WHO?! Who am I supposed to be?

Meg: What?

Aaron: Who am I supposed to guard? Up top? It's on.

Residency Requirement

My teacher on Thursday nights just happens to be the VP of student services at NWACC. Basically, this means he is willing to override the denied course substitutions that did not transfer. I met with him today (Hollah to Kasey for keeping Quincy and Corbin for 4 hours on her day off so I could go over my transcripts kid free) and he pointed out that BSU offers an A.A.

What?!
Why didn't I ever think of that?
Because I was working on a 4 year degree at Boise State, so it never crossed my mind that they even had an Associate's program.

But now that I'm trying to go to U of A, I need an A. A. for the program I want to complete.

So, with my transcripts in hand, he called up BSU, and together, we all went over the A.A. requirements, and guess what?

I only need 2 classes to complete the program, one of them being World Lit...which I just took!
That means that IF BSU will allow me to complete my final two courses at NWACC and transfer the credits back to them, I will have an A.A. in December!

Of course, there are rules that don't allow that, though. BSU requires that 15 of your last 18 credits be taken on their campus. My situation means only 12 of my last 18 credits are being taken at BSU. And today was the LAST day to make an appeal.

So, I filled out the paperwork for an appeal, wrote a letter explaining that I left BSU (as a good standing student on the Dean's List) because we moved away for my husband's career. My family is here, now, and going back to BSU to take one 3 credit class is not an option. And the class is not available online, either (of course). My instructor (mr. VP) also wrote a letter supporting my appeal and attached it to the claim and I faxed it in just in time this afternoon.

Upon approval, (Wednesday is Academic Appeals Committee Meeting Day), I can then contact the Associate's Dean for the college of Arts and Science and get HIS approval. Once I have his approval, I simply need to complete the required Comminucations class (which will meet at NWACC every Friday night from 5-10:30pm for 8 weeks between mid October and mid December) and I will have an A. A. from Boise State University. Wahooo!

Unfortunately, while I was typing this, I found out via phone call that Boise State now wants me to contact the BSU Associate's Dean first and get his approval BEFORE I can make my appeal. I did get the rest of the paperwork for the appeal in on time, so I hope that on Monday, I'll be able to get a hold of the Dean quickly, and that he will support my claim. If not, I wasted an entire day doing nothing, and will be spending 2 more semesters at NWACC taking courses just so I can meet their residency requirement to graduate from there. If that is the case, I'm probably going to bag NWACC altogether, and see if I can make an appeal to the University of Arkansas' A.A requirement (since I meet the credit requirement anyway) and just transfer there, or get into one of their degree completion plans, which aren't ideal, (long daytime hour courses and more expensive) but at this point I just want to be done with something.

Let's all hope that the Associate's Dean is a nice guy that is easy to get a hold of, that he supports my appeal, and that the Academics Appeal Committee also supports my appeal, so I can spend more evenings at home with my husband and babies and not taking classes that will do nothing but add to my collection of units that is now at 81 with nothing but transcripts to show for it.

Moral of the story: Don't play stupid like me. Don't wait. Don't think that you can't go to school when you have a baby. Going with one baby would have been so much easier than going with 3 at home. Just take 20 credits a semester when you are a Freshman, and get a degree before you start your family and move all over the country.

The transfer process is not something I'd wish upon my worst enemy if I had one.
And I'm about to go through it a fourth time.

Send happy thoughts my way Wednesday!

"I hear the secrets that you keep, when you're talking in your sleep."

Aaron has been busting out one liners at me from his slumber on the sofa. Usually, I can keep the conversation going if I respond quickly enough, but I've had no such luck tonight. But, for your reading pleasure, I give you a running list of everything that's been said to me over the past hour.

I'd love to hear your theories on what you think he is dreaming about.

"You'd better get going."

"He hrmnen sanadnrnem mndndnhm....and yelled at me again"

"Did you lock your door to the van?"

"What did she ever do to you?"

"no. I ate on the way home."

"nfhad abslfndfrmnem...because it's ugly."

Leap

I am so pleased that Young Learners Preschool Enrichment is turning into such a successful program.
This year, 5 little Friendly Frogs will hop on over to my house every Wednesday morning.

I can't wait.

Home Study III

It's been awhile since we've checked in on our dollhouse people.
Let's see how they are doing, shall we?

We finally found Mr. Dollhouse:

At least he wasn't gagged.



Corbin has also been joining the fun. Here he is with Brother Dollhouse.

Let's get a closer look...

Remind anyone else of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?

Mrs. Gloop: Augustus, don't eat your fingers!
Augustus: But, Mother, I taste so good!

Karma

Sometimes, having a private blog isn't so bad.

This weekend, Henry came over to show us his (now infected) reattached thumb, and invite us over for dinner at his place. (yikes.)
We quickly decided that it's too hot to cook, and we are going out to pizza together tomorrow night, instead.

Remember Henry?
Of course you do.

Do you remember 2 years ago, when I made fun of denim jumpers and a week later the universe got back at me and I somehow ended up wearing one?

Karma.
I deserved it.

This is Henry's House:
I call this photo series. "Piles of crap that have been buried by piles and piles of crap."




Meanwhile, while I arrogantly hahaha'd at Henry's ill behavior,
my air conditioner was flooding the carpet pads.

New carpet is getting installed in my home, today.
Which means everything I own needs to be moved out of the carpeted areas and into the dining room. Since these photos were taken, a piano, a treadmill, a changing table, and about 6 boxes of crap have been added to the horrific scene below.

My House:

Huh.
Whaddyaknow.

sort of looks like...piles of crap that have been buried by piles and piles of crap!

Karma bites.

Fresh Starts

Day 1

My Sweet Pieces,

You're a Kindergartner now! How did that happen?
You were so excited on our Mother Daughter date.
It was one of the best nights we've ever had together.
You listened with reverence to the blessing Daddy gave you the night before school started.
You didn't act embarrassed that your mother had a camera in your face on the first day.
You clung to our legs, told us that you refuse to grow up, that you're going to live with us forever, and you even cried a little....especially when Daddy left to go to work.
Finally, your teacher coaxed you into the classroom by telling you a secret. Then you smiled, and went into class happily, but with extreme caution.
It actually felt okay to know you are at least a little sad about this big change. Seeing you cry nervously broke my heart, but I knew you'd be ok very soon. I decided to postpone taking pictures of you at your desk and cubby until Day 2 because the longer I hung around, the more difficult it was for you.

Once I got in the car, I cried a little, too.

I love you so much, Reese.
I am proud of you for being brave and trying something that was new and difficult for you.

You can do hard things.

You continue to amaze me every day with your strength, will power, memory, and awesome personality. You are one cool kid and I am so glad you are mine.
I guess it would be selfish to keep you at home to myself another year.

Day 2

I hope that you love Kindergarten.

Washed Up

The floor beneath my washer and dryer was disgusting.
I imagine that a great deal of the water damage we found in the bedroom had actually come from a previous flood caused by the washer. The laundry closet looked bad the day we moved in, but I never really took the time to get a close look at it, because the movers just took the old washer and dryer out and put ours right in, so I never noticed just how bad the problem was, so never seemed to make it to the #1 spot on my priority list.

Then again, scraping all of the ceilings, and painting all of the walls and trim weren't #1 on my priority list either.

But here we are, getting new carpet installed tomorrow. So if I'm gonna re-do the floor beneath the washer, it might as well be this weekend so I won't have to worry about spilling thin set or grout on the new floor.

Out came the nasty old linoleum.

I wanted to throw up. I never realized just HOW gross it was back there.

Sick.

Kasey came over, and together we
-cleaned up and treated the subfloor
-measured and cut the hardibacker
-put down a layer of thin set and screwed the hardibacker in place
-made fun of how nasty gross my floor had been for 5 years without me caring enough to do something about it
-measured and cut tile
-installed tile with thin set.
Don't be jealous that I rock the hot pink sweatpants with the butt print on them.


then we painted the living room while the tile dried.

24 hrs later, I
-removed the ghetto-rigged shelves and discovered that one of them smelled like cat pee when you removed the contact paper.
-threw said shelf in the garbage, and regretted buying a house that now apparently had an owner that had a cat at one point.
-treated the water damage
-painted the walls an obnoxious green that will remind me of Spring when I'm doing laundry on a gloomy day in January. I had a good helper for that part. Yeah, she's in her underwear. Whatever. At least her dress didn't get ruined.

-grouted the tile
-put everything back together. (pretty new shelves coming soon.)
not perfect, but a good solution.
Start to finish 5 hrs. Just as predicted.
Can't wait to get some shelves back up in there, and see the front finished with the new carpet fitted nicely up against it.

What do you think about the green? Love it? Hate it?

"...In the lane, snow is gistening."

While shaking a dust covered shirt over her Care Bear Castle,

Reese: Come outside Cheer Bear, it's snowing!

Reasons to Avoid Me Right Now.

While we were in Ca, The air conditioner leaked, seeped through the subfloors, and flooded the hallway and a bedroom.
Remember how I thought my house smelled like old lady, when I got home?
That's because the flood sat in a hot humid house for 3 weeks, and all of the water damaged walls, carpet and subfloors were growing mildew.

New carpet coming.
Mildew cleaned.
Popcorn ceilings down.
Painting ceilings.
Treating floors and walls.
Painting walls.
Painting book shelves.
Priming and painting trim.
Painting baseboards.
Running out of time and sanity.
Reese has an ear infection.
Everything I own is stacked in my dining room.
I've "slept" on my living room floor for almost a week.
I'm about to crack.
Oh, and everything in my house is covered in a thin, white layer of dust, so I kind of look like I'm ON crack, too.

Now accepting prayers, positive energy, and free labor.

Status Update II

Aaron joined facebook.
What!

Point. Facebook.

Status Update

is it bad that no one in my house got dressed today?

Henry the Hoarder and a Vote.

The new occupant of Carl and Barb's old house is Henry.
When he moved in, it took over a week of NONSTOP movers, and full sized moving semis.

Henry has a lot of crap.
Literally. I've been inside the house. There is crap on the floor and there are bugs everywhere.
Henry is a Hoarder.

For real. A REAL hoarder. The kind that gets buried under piles of their own crap and they die and no one finds them for weeks.

Carl and Barb would DIE if they saw what has happened to their home.
I'm aware that I have a ton of crap in my garage and that my yard/landscaping needs to be kept up better. But at least I don't leave my crap filled garage door open 24/7!

Henry! Are you kidding me?! Close the door! I hate looking out my front window and looking at everything that everyone everywhere has ever thrown away piled up in your garage!

And, it's not just the garage. Henry doesn't run his A/C, and instead, leaves his front door and the door to his house from the garage open all day. He even props the screens open.

What the heck? Is he not aware that screens do not prevent a breeze from blowing. Screens are merely there to SCREEN the sight of your crap from my view. Let the screen do it's job, Henry.

On Sunday night, Henry shows up at our front door, holding his hands against his chest. The wife beater that he has been wearing (for at least a week from the looks of it.) was covered in blood. HALF of a bloody thumb has in his messy grasp. Sweaty Henry was shaking and said, "Oh I did a number on this one. I need ya ta take me to the hospital."

Aaron went down the hall to grab his shoes and keys, and settle the kids down while I grabbed an old towel and an ice back and ran outside barefoot to aid Henry...who didn't look so hot.

He'd cut himself with a circular saw.
He showed me the cut.
His thumb was BLACK. Henry had bled all over pretty much everything in the area (pile of garbage) where he'd been building a wooden shelf to store some of his garbage.

He said, "the house is sort of a mess, but I'm gonna need you to go in there and get my cell phone, my billfold from the pocket of the trousers on my bed."

I took a deep breath and we went inside.
I know you are thinking, Meg! You terrible person! Who cares if his house is messy?! He could lose his thumb! What's wrong with you?

But LISTEN, people.

This is not your ordinary messy house.
I do not use the word hoarder lightly, ok?
I knew that going in there meant hoping that there was a path left clear for me to walk on so I didn't step on any of his treasures.
It's like that episode of Friends, where Ross dates the girl with the messy apartment, and tried to describe it to Joey:

Ross: You know how you throw your jacket on a chair at the end of the day?
Joey: Yeah...
Ross: Well, like that, only that instead of a chair it's a pile of garbage. And instead of a jacket it's a pile of garbage. And instead of the end of the day it's the end of time, and garbage is all that has survived.

Actually, it's a lot like that.
I really didn't want to go back in there. But of course I did, because who wouldn't do that for someone...especially someone in pain.
I knew that Henry had lost a lot of blood and had probably bled all over the area he'd been using the saw, and then left a bloody trail through the house while he figured out what to do, and that I'd be walking through that biohazard.

and remember...

I. WAS. BAREFOOT.

I crossed my fingers, took a deep breath, and went inside with a hope that any disease living on what used to be the carpets of Henry's house had been eaten away by the penicillin growing on a moldy piece of food that had been left out.

Henry was really starting to fall apart at this point. His sentences were broken, he was stumbling around a lot and forgetting things suddenly, and I could tell he was in shock. I hollered to Aaron to grab a towel from the house (to wrap around Henry when he got in the car.).

We began the search for the phone. With incomplete instructions from poor Henry, I made it to the bedroom, and located the billfold and the cell phone. We headed out of the house and Henry stopped on the front step edge. He went white and just stared into space. I was really worried he was going to pass out, but he was non responsive when I asked him if he was ok. I told him to sit down and then he just looked at me and held his wounded hand tight.

"HENRY. You need to answer me. Are you ok?"
no answer.
"HENRY you need to sit down. I'm going to help you sit down."

"mmmm......uhhhh..."

I think this was the first time he'd left his house in awhile. He was freaking out. But he wouldn't MOVE. He was just swaying on the step and I knew that if he tipped over, I would not be able to break his fall. Aaron had just pulled the car to the front.
I decided to go TV Cop on him and get in his face.

HENRY! YOU LISTEN TO ME. You are going to pass out. You need to get into the car. Now.
Can you walk?

"I....uh...."
TV Cop Meg wasn't working, so I went with Mean Mom Meg instead.

"YES OR NO, Henry. Are. you. alright? YES or NO. I need an answer now or I am going to help you sit down right here on this step." In a normal situation, the lack of ability to give an answer would be considered a no. But in this case, I couldn't tell how much of it was just Henry's typical bizarre antics, or if he was wigging out due to his accident.

"uhhhhh....uh..."

"I'm going to count to three. ONE."
"I can. I think I'm fine."

"Of course you are. Now let's go get in the car." Ha! counting to three. works every time.

We helped Henry into the front passenger seat of the Civic. Aaron looked over at the wound and then immediately looked away. I just said, "you're going to be fine, Henry" and he said, "We can make it to the VA." Aaron said, "UH, VA? Is that the same place as the closest hospital?"

"No. I don't have any insurance. VA. You better go fast." Then he gave me instructions to go back inside, find the keys to the Buick (parked in the driveway, also full of crap) retrieve the so I could lock up his house and use the garage door opener to get out.

The VA is in Fayetteville, 45 minutes away from our house.
They passed like 5 hospitals on the way there. Poor Henry.

The only report I've gotten so far is that Henry's thumb was salvageable, but we don't really know. He came home the next day, but we haven't seen him. He had Aaron call his friend to come get him, then he was taken back to be stitched up.

So while they are en route to el hospital, I am putting 3 kids to bed....two of which have a LOT of questions about Henry.
What happened to his thumb? Was he playing with scissors? Did he use the sharp knife? Did he touch the saw tools? Why was he so stinky? Why did he have blood? Why is his house messy? Why did Dad drive him?

I did my best to answer them. But as I scrubbed the first 3 layers of skin off the bottom of my feet using scalding hot water, I had plenty of questions and thoughts of my own.

What drives people to become hoarders?
What does Henry even eat if he never leaves the house?
What was all that crap on his bed?
I wonder if those boxes of rotten strawberries that were there the last time I went inside his house are still by the back door? I bet they are, but they're covered in more garbage.

Hmmm....I wonder IF those strawberries are still there.
Naw. They're not there.
Are they there?
I'm supposed to find keys in that place? That puts a new perspective on the "needle in a haystack" saying.

Marge's broken arm, Marge's broken ribs, Marge's bruised tailbone and cracked hip, Marge's chipped tooth.
Carl's 1st stroke, Carl's truck accident
Disarming Ross
Henry's severed thumb.

Yup. We're officially neighborhood geriatric caretakers.

So here's where your opinion comes in.
You're going over to a house that is so messy, that no one believes you when you try to describe it. Instead, they'll just look at you like you are a terrible person for wishing you'd put on some shoes before going inside.

Vote: This situation is happening to you. You are headed over to "find the keys". Do you take your camera inside when you go back over?

Yes or No?

I did.

Don't tell me I look tired. Just say, "You look like crap today." Cuz it's the same thing, but at least I won't feel the need to respond politely.

I just remembered a promise I made with my kid today. Now I am up at 1:30 am baking blueberry muffins. Good thing I love her so much.

Awesome II

REAAAAAALLLLY cute picture of my kid, blogged over here.

Things that are Awesome

Because the last post was so whiny, I give you:
Things that are Awesome:

Chocolate Chip Cookies from Running Rooster. I won't be disappointed if one of these shows up in a padded envelope in my mailbox next week. Just sayin'.


Grandparents playing with babies.

Babies strapped into a kiddie ride wondering what the heck their mother is doing to them.

Wiped out kids from a fun and exciting day

Restaurants that have a play area for the kids, and even an infant meal option on the kids menu. Brilliant.
Barefoot babies in said restaurant.

The Happy Hands Club

The Foreign Language Dept. at NWACC will not accept any of my ASL credits as a substitute for my foreign language credits, and insist that I need to take a 3 credit intermediate level German, French, Spanish, Humanities, Philosophy, or World Religion course to meet the requisite. I met with a rep from the Foreign Language Department and she told me that she could substitute most other languages, but isn't certain that ASL IS an actual language.

For real?!

Uh, aren't there like 2+ million deaf people in the US? Not that they all use ASL as their primary language, but that's still a lot of people.
And isn't ASL considered the third most commonly used primary language in the US? These were real language classes. It's not like I took some class where we learned some signed English version of a Bette Midler song.


hahahhahha. Not quite.

ASL is not English, or symbols that represent English words.

Just because you learn that Flower in Spanish is Flor, that doesn't mean that you are actually speaking a code for English. You are speaking Spanish. Ok, so when you use the sign for Walk, I'm not using a code for English, I'm using the ASL word for Walk.

It is real language, with real rules,and it's own unique sentence structure, verbs, rules, insults, etiquette, dialects, synonyms, blah blah blah.

Why is this such a big deal to me?

Because, I don't want to do it again. I don't WANT to take a Spanish class. I know how much time goes into a college level language course. I spent 5-10 hrs/week in language labs, read history books, learned about the culture. It was not easy. It took a lot of time, a lot of studying and a lot of practice. I already did that, and I want credit for it, dangit!

My ASL now is broken and pathetic, but there was a time 6 yrs ago, when I could hold my own in a group of Deaf friends and follow 2 or 3 conversations simultaneously, and keep up. I even filled in as translator for the Deaf members of our church congregation in Green Bay, few times when their translators couldn't make it. Everything I learned was from college courses. It counts for nothing? If someone came in with 30 college course credits in Mandarin Chinese, would their credits be substituted? Probably. I'm not asking for all of my credits back. Just three. Certainly, one of my upper level ASL classes should substitute.
What a joke.

What I need, is a Deaf person to come with me to NWACC and tell the Foreign Language Department to suck an egg. Can't you just see it? Here's how it would happen in my head:

Deaf Friend: "You. Yeah, You. Go suck an Egg"

Mrs. That-Language-doesn't-count-because-I-speak-6-languages-fluently-and-that-isn't-one-of-them: [looking at me]"What did she say"

Me: "Wait. What's that? You mean you can't understand her?"
Maybe, It's because

she's
using

another
freaking
language.

Perhaps you need an interpreter?

Now, give me my stupid 3 credits!!!
And then (depending on the level of cooperation), I might or might not use a hand sign I know she understands.

Reunited...

My 10 yr high school reunion happened to be around the time I was in Ca, but seeing that my closest friends were not attending, I didn't see the point in going, either.
Instead, Annie, Emily and I gathered at Aimee's house for a little reunion of our own. It was so fun to catch up with these gals. We've known each other for 20 years, and every time we get together, we always laugh until our faces hurt and someone nearly pees her pants.
Aimee poses with the "tarts".

"After yooooooooooooouuuuuu...."

"K"

"I mean, anyone who can bake has a rolling pin, right"
"Yeah. I don't have a rolling pin."
"See? The evidence speaks for itself."

"I can't remember, who was the one who cut her finger at camp that one time we got stuck washing pots and pans?"
"we were always washing pots and pans!"
"I don't remember that, but it sounds like me to cut someone's finger"
"Well I do remember, so I must have been the one you cut!"

"Naw, you're fine, it's not a full blown mom haircut"

"My voice changed?!"
"I got taller!"
"I got shorter!"
"I got fatter!"

"Tarts? Homemade jam? I haven't felt this Mormon in years!"
"I will not pee my pants tonight!!!"
Later in the week, I met up with Annie again at OD's Kitchen in Gilroy, where we all used to go in High School when we cut class. Mmmm....kitchen sink. Good food. Good memories.

mystery smoke?

The descent into Tulsa was not good.
Terrible turbulence, and the captain asked the flight attendants to "stop collecting trash and just buckle up".

Comforting.

All three of my kids had slept the entire flight from Denver, but they woke up from the flickering cabin lights and people yelping "Oh my---!" every time the plane dipped. It wasn't the worst turbulence I've ever had, but it was still pretty bad.

Quincy woke up screaming.

And she didn't stop screaming until after we were on the ground.

I couldn't get her to look at me, and her words weren't making any sense. She was just freaking out and thrashing around like she was having a night terror, mumbling a barely understandable "I need my mom!" (even though I was holding her, talking to her, and trying to get her to recognize me. She was shaking and screaming and it lasted so long I started to get really worried. I don't think she was all the way awake. Anyway, in the middle of this, the Captain says, "Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for an emergency landing."

Huh? Uh oh.

So while Quincy is screaming (and we're talking UGLY screaming, where you just want to cry, too...or rip your ears off to make it stop), and people are freaking out (luckily, there were 3 other kids that cried the entire flight while mine slept peacefully, so it definitely could have been worse...and I'm pretty certain that any animosity between passengers on our flight was aimed that the other people...or at the airline for such a terrible descent), the flight attendant is telling us to locate the closest emergency exit, and that as soon as we get the word, we are to abandon our personal belongings and just get off the aircraft as quickly and calmly as possible.

Great. quickly and calmly? Leave my personal belongings? What are those? My arms were full of kids when I boarded this aircraft! The guy across from me offered to help, then crossed himself as we started to descend really quickly.

Then there was a TERRIBLE noise outside the right side of the plane, and gas started coming out of all of the air vents! I'm sure it was just oxygen to correct the cabin pressure, but did the flight attendants tell us that? Nooooo, instead, everyone is just freaking out as we land. It doesn't show up very well on the videos at all, but I recorded it anyway, hoping it would show up better when I watched it later.


As soon as we landed, the flight attendant said, "well, no emergency landing was necessary, but please use caution when you open the overhead luggage compartments as items tend to shift, blah blah blah" and Quincy suddenly went silent and totally pale.

Then she threw up in my hands (awesome. really wishing I hadn't pumped her with junk food for 6 hrs straight) and Corbin fell back asleep. The mystery gas didn't stop, and it smelled really terrible (like car exhaust). It was pretty thick, and came out in a powerful stream, like when you press the steam shot on an iron...but at a continuous flow. The passengers pushed ans shoved to get off the plane, and when it was our turn, an older couple behind them mowed Reese over and told her to get out of their way. I went mama bear on them and told them to sit down and wait their turn. Then I took my time asking Reese if she was ok, gathered our carry on, the car seat, my diaper bag, and the kids and hobbled off the airplane.

When I got to the front of the plane, the flight attendant said, "oooh, I would help you with all that, but I can't step off the aircraft." So polite.

I've never been so happy to see Aaron.
Probably because he had a cold Dr. Pepper in his hand.

On Saturday morning, I slept in until 9, then Aaron came in to inform me that I should probably get up, because he had scheduled a massage appointment for me at the day spa (where he had given me a gift certificate to for Christmas, but I had yet to redeem, because I always feel guilty taking off on a Saturday when I am already gone ever saturday morning until 9am to run). He must have known I'd never get around to scheduling it for myself.

Icky landing, but nothing a good man, a good soda, and a good massage can't fix!
I had a wonderful vacation and I already miss my family in Ca as much as I miss the cooler weather (which is a lot), but I am so happy to be home.

Pow Pow Power Wheels, Pow Pow Power Wheels...

I always wanted the Barbie Jeep Power Wheel.
My friend, Gabbie, down the street had one and I was super jealous.

So when I saw a power wheel parked in Mark's garage, I think I got more excited about that than any of the other super cool toys he has out there.

It is obvious I have zero Power Wheel driving experience.
It is also obvious that I have terrible driving skills in general.
At least I made Reese hand over the plastic toy phone before I let her behind the wheel.
No texting and driving from my kids.

Sadly, When the girls turned a sharp corner, they wiped out anyway.
Quincy took advantage of not having to share the power wheel once her sister bailed out.
Reese came running for some Grandma TLC and boo-boo first aid.
This short clip proves that Grandmas are the best thing that ever happened to mothers on vacation.

TXT Me.

About texting...
What is wrong with me? Why am I a terrible texter? Why can't I work other people's phones?
It is literally impossible for me to operate practically any phone other than mine. No joke. It is just as well that I can't text, because while I totally get that there are times that sending a text is more appropriate than making a call, 90% of the time, if you can't just call the person, you probably shouldn't be texting either.

Now listen up, California. There is a REASON yalls have a no texting driving law. It is because everyone in your freaking state does it! It is unreal! I rarely saw someone that wasn't texting when I passed them on the road. Scary.

So here's my soap box, I'll make it quick.
The next time you feel like sending a text from your phone while operating a vehicle, instead, put down your phone, take your hands off the wheel, and close your eyes for 15 seconds.
Does that sound like a BAD idea?
Cuz' you're pretty much doing the same thing.
Ok, I'm done now.

Anyway, I can't text. Really.
Amy didn't believe me when I told her this. I think her brain exploded from hearing such a foreign concept, but it's true. Can't do it. To demonstrate this, she passed me her phone when she was driving, and asked me to reply to a text our friend, Caroline, had sent us.

Caroline had asked when we would be arriving at the pool. I tried to respond with "We are on our way right now" but Amy has that stupid word builder feature on her phone and it kept making other words from letters I was typing! So, instead I yelled at her phone for a minute, then sent a message that said something like, "Werrar on waxrhtlsy."

Amy laughed and said she needed to send a message to correct my mistake and clear up that we are on our way. My response is that Caroline would totally understand my hidden message, and that it's not a good enough reason to text and drive.

"Caroline is smart. She'll figure out what you meant, Amy."

Amy disagreed, because she "actually knows how to work a phone and would never SEND a message like that."

But then, the phone buzzed, and I looked to see that Caroline was calling right then,

"HA! Caroline is calling right now. Now we can clear things up, and avoid this whole stupid texting back and forth business. Excellent." I gloatingly answered the call since Amy was still driving, told Caroline the whole story, and then laughed about how Amy thinks I can't send a decent text message and shouldn't be allowed near other people's cell phones.

When Caroline didn't respond, I told Amy her phone sucks and it had either dropped the call or Caroline wasn't there anymore.

Amy said through tears of laughter, "that's because you were talking to a TEXT MESSAGE, not an incoming call!"

LOL?

So what's your opinion on texting and driving? Do tell.

Show Me Your Funky Chicken,

Ok, I know I took this video sideways, but it is still worth watching.
Here, my nephew, Brock (6 1/2), performs a song his brothers learned at Cub Scout Day Camp.

He has no idea he is cursing.
And we didn't tell him.
Awesome.
I'm so sad the video didn't pick up the first two times he did it.
Hilarious.

What's that you saaaaay?

G-town

On Sat, July 24th, I joined 101,000 garlic lovers at the Gilroy Garlic Festival.
I grew up volunteering on "Squid Row" and doing pre-prep for Gourmet Alley, washing and slicing peppers and onions for Pepper Steak Sandwiches, washing and chopping basil for the Garlic Pesto, moving kegs to raise funds for the waterpolo team, washing buckets, and squishing frozen squid with the "Squid Squad" for Calamari to benefit the GHS Chamber Choir. It brought back a lot of memories to be there again.
I think it had been 7 or 8 years since I's had a pepper steak sandwich.
7 or 8 years too long.
I pretty much ate my way through Gourmet Alley.
Garlic Ice Cream.
It is a real thing.
It's actually not so bad...sort of like if you were to put a mess of Garlic Salt in a Wendy's Frosty.
Ok, that sounds disgusting, but not when you think about how awesome it is to dip a french fry in a Wendy's Frosty.

Don't act like you've never done that.

I love this Garlic Buttered Roasted Corn so much, I wanna take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant.


And for Tia, I will now deliver the requested goods:
A photo with Mr. Garlic.
And for the record, dressing like a garlic bulb does not make it ok to smell like one. There was a serious hybrid of garlic and schwetty old man coming from those pits of his.

So many choices, not enough room in my belly. We will go back before another 7 years pass.
Garlic Bread, Garlic Fries, Garlic Pesto, Garlic Calamari, Garlic Stuffed Mushrooms......and later that night, a BAD case of Garlic Breath!

Totally worth it.

I'm a Survivor

We made it home safely.

I am happy to report that aside from a crazy landing and mysterious gas being pumped onto the plane (more on that later), and 1 meltdown (read: Quincy went crazy), the trip home went smoothly.

I am not happy to report that after 3 weeks away, my garden is a dying jungle,r and my house (though it is fairly clean-thanks, Aaron!) is stuffy and still smells like old lady. We've been in this house for 5 years, and every time we return home from a day away, we can smell it. Musty old lady. Which leads us to believe that our house always reeks like old lady house, but we've just gotten used to it. (hence, the smell smacks us in the face when we get home from being away).

We've replaced pretty much everything in this house except the carpet and some of the popcorn ceiling. Aaron agrees and has bumped both up to the top of our "list" that will be done as soon as I finish the pergola. I am totally paranoid about it.
Is this why my friends give me scented candles for my birthday and offer to shampoo my carpets? To get rid of the ever-present old lady smell that you think I am unaware of?
If I host a ceiling scraping party, will you come? Everyone gets a complimentary dust mask.

Pictures of our trip coming soon.

hacked

The following post proves why Hollister, Ca is one of the coolest places on earth. And that we, the Hansons, have super awesome connections, which is why Meg loves us. :p But more importantly, it proves that Megs girls are absolutely gorgeous. Aaron, you'd better get yourself a gun, 'cause you're gonna need it when they hit high school.

Mr Jingles - one cool pony

Q's "Who" face

hello gorgeous!

Reese surprised us all by wanting to ride the pony first

While Miss Q was uncertain about all the fuss over a pony and watched from the safety of her mother's arms.

And after a few minutes, she was all smiles & excitement.

Um, yeah. Aaron, you really need that gun.

I dare say that Meg & I both have the best looking girls.

Quincy - Umm I'm not too sure about Reese holding that rope

Reese- heeheehee, lookie what I got

Evie - this will only end in tears

having a blast

helloooo Quincy!it's all fun and games until someone lets the chickens out. Then the breakdown begins.

But all is fixed by a cute goat
and feeding Mr Jingles treats

Thanks Meg, for coming along with us! We had a blast. And your cd with all the pictures is sitting on my desk, waiting to be brought over to you.