I have a very clean bathtub.

I went into the bathroom tonight to start a bath for raspberry and there where three very empty large shampoo bottles and one empty nail polish remover bottle lined up on the rim of the bathtub. Those weren't there 10 minutes earlier. I called her into the bathroom - she came in with a very sheepish look on her face. I asked her what happened to all the shampoo and she blamed it on her brother (who was at football practice). She could tell that her story wasn't flying with me so she said she wanted to clean the bathtub with lots of bubbles. As she got into the bathtub she said, "mom, it stinks." I picked up the bottle and said "Nail Polish Remover. It smells and doesn't make bubbles." She just looked at me and said, "that's dumb".

Mom, move over...

My parents stayed with us over the weekend, they left this morning to head back home. CC was ordained to the office of a deacon at church on Sunday by his Grandpa who has recently recovered from a triple bypass and doing quite well (thank you heavenly father). It was a great day.

Anyway, it is always fun to have Grandma and Grandpa here, but when they are here, they sleep in cc's large queen bed and cc gets raspberry's bed and thus raspberry sleeps with mom.

So last night about 1:30 in the morning I get this poke in my cheek, "mom, I want to lay with you". I said, "you are, go back to sleep okay". I could tell she was sitting up staring at me, so I said, "what's the matter". She replied with an agitated "I don't have a spot." I sat up, switched on the lamp and assessed the situation. I was on the far edge of my rather large queen bed with one pillow. She on the other hand had my other 4 pillows, all of the blankets, 5 stuffed animals and the rest of the bed. I said, "What spot do you want?" and she pointed to mine. Fine. Have it. Somethings aren't worth arguing about. I moved over to the other side. As I laid back down she said, "Hey, where's my drink?".

I really feel bad for her future husband.

Panic is beginning to set in

I'm officially the mother of a 12 year old. In the LDS faith, this age is sort of a big deal. No longer in primary, but the 'Young Men's program'. I see what's coming... teenage stuff. I told cc I have a year before he is officially a teenager so he isn't to get to lippy. I still have the height advantage too, although it is only about 2 inches. He said he is excited for the day that he can rest his chin on the top of my head. I'm going to invest in some higher heels.

Our wonderful bishop handed me a packet on Sunday and said, "7 years until a mission and it goes by like that", and he did some flip thing with his hand.

I gave him a phone for his birthday. He wants a "myspace page". Yea, like that's going to happen. Inside I'm thinking... don't panic.

Is this a bad sign?

Here are 3 sentences that my 4 year old said to me at various times over the weekend.

1. MOM! How could you?
2. MOM! How dare you!
3. MOM! What did you do?

I promise I don't teach her this stuff. It has got to be on some disney video somewhere... or that bizarre squishy SpongeBob guy and his strange Patrick friend.

The Proscrastination of the Dish Washer

It is 9:35 p.m. Thursday evening. The kids are asleep and I have a pile of dishes hanging out in the kitchen waiting for me. For some reason doing dishes does not sound particularly appealing at the moment. Here are some other things I could be doing. Laundry (you don't want to know), vacuuming (nope, too loud), exercising (maybe, but then it would just take longer to go to sleep), planning tomorrow's dinner (I could, but it's Friday tomorrow, we can wing it), cleaning my room (I think I would need three large bins to throw all the toys in that have migrated to my "personal relaxation space" Ha!), blogging... oh wait, almost done. Blast. I could be sorting and organizing the papers that have landed on the kitchen counter over the last 4 days (too easy). I could go to bed early!...but I won't be able to sleep knowing I've got a pile of dirty dishes sitting out, with food hardening to their surfaces... Drat. I've got to go do the dishes. Oh wait! There's the buzzer, got to go change the water. :)

Mom. You are hurting my ears.

Setting: My Car
Occupants: Me and Raspberry
Location: Freeway, nearing Center Street exit to her school
Time: Tuesday, 7:48 a.m.
Current disposition of Raspberry: Grumpy

Raspberry: Mom!
Mom: Yes, sweetheart.
Raspberry: Mom, I want you to listen to me.
Mom: I'm listening.
Raspberry: Mom, I never want to eat carrots again!
Mom: um, okay.
Raspberry: They are just gross.
Mom: Anything el...
Raspberry: Moooooommmm! You are hurting my ears. Stop talking!

Remembering one of my favorite people, Luciano Pavarotti

When I heard Pavarotti sing Nessun Dorma the world stopped. It was the most beautiful song. I will miss him.

A Flash of Brilliance!... and it's gone

Dang it. Dang it. Dang it. I was looking out the window of my office being inspired by the grandness of the mountains while feverishly typing the beginnings of my brilliant marketing paragraph that has taking me all day to figure out and when I finally looked at the computer screen THIS IS WHAT I SEE.

foas';lka al;ke a,x otddkhjal cienak ghials addnagoiuj daialsh tkd w idsa aksigla.

That's great.

The Last 11 Hours by Numbers

126 - The number of minutes I stayed up past my bed time to listen to the storm passing over head

74 - The number of minutes I spent doing laundry and listening to storm

1 - The number of times raspberry woke me up last night so she could have a drink of apple juice

3 - The number of times cc woke me up due to the ear-splitting crackling thunder that shook our house.

20 - The number of minutes I spent around 3 am reassuring cc that our house wasn't going to blow away in the storm

6 - Number of minutes I used to think about how much siding was currently being ripped from my house

5.15 - the number of hours I spent sleeping

2.35 - the number of hours of uninterrupted sleep I received

33 - the number of minutes I spent dressing and combing the hair of a very unhappy raspberry

12 - the number of minutes it took to get raspberry into the car

1 - the number of minutes it took to get cc into the car

31 - the number of minutes it takes to drop of the raspberry and get to work

36 - the number of minutes we had to get to work by 8

52 - the number of minutes in takes to get to work when there is an accident that backs up I-15 for miles. Blast.

52 - the number of minutes I spent thinking that I should really move closer to work

The List

2 slices of bread
2 slices of ham
lettuce
4 squirts of musturd
1 ziploc bag
1 pudding pack
1 bag of potato chips
1 packaged bowl of mandarin oranges
1 plastic fork
1 water bottle
1 bag for the above items (don't let your math book smash it)

A simple and fulfilling lunch list that cc and I went over this morning (yes, once again on my cell phone) since I forgot to make him lunch for school. (insert big sigh here). Hey, give me a break. It has only been one week since school started. My routines are all messed up.

But at least I remind him to brush his teeth.

The Gorgeous Sister

At some point in your life you just have deal with the fact that your sister will always be gorgeous. So when they say to you "your sister is gorgeous!", you can smile and honestly say, "I know she is."

(and inside you can say yes, but I've got better hair)