116 and counting

116 days ago Sage started a countdown until The Big Day when her beloved aunts and grandparents would return from Israel. For quite a while she updated the count daily. Even after she and I both lost track of the days, we have felt the emptiness of knowing that, although we can email and "Skype" them, our loved ones are far far away having the adventure of a lifetime.

In the last month, they spent 15 of 17 consecutive days on various field trips throughout the country. And even though they are busier than bees, my amazing mom managed to remember her adoring preschool fan club back in the boring U.S.

For example, here is an email that came a month ago:

Dear Sage & Eliza, Jacob & Cindy,

Yesterday we hiked up a big hill and saw something crazy...There was a herd of sheep with its shepherd. But if you look closely at the second picture, one of those crazy sheep was standing on his back legs eating leaves out of a tree! Can you believe that? I took a picture so you could see the crazy sheep!
Love, Grandma Boosky

And another email after Grandma received the picture Sage drew of her:
Dear SAGE,
I LOVE the picture! It looks just like me! Thank you. Thank you. And your writing is amazing. I can see that you are ready to start kindergarten!
Lovies, Grandma

And when I blogged about neighbors asking if I was pregnant, my mom not only taught me to see the world through a positive lens, but also made me feel good about myself when she posted this comment:
"As for the neighbors...well, can you blame them for hoping? --Mom"

And now Sage and I are both counting down the last 116 hours with anticipation.

No, David!

Sometimes dealing with college-age renters* can be as frustrating as dealing with toddlers. It's amazing how many of my responses to these different groups fall into the same category (the "Did I have to specifically say that?" category).

For example (all true stories):
--to my 2 year old: "Please do not put a blanket on your head and then attempt to walk around the house." (Seriously, this is a rule at our house now.)
--to a renter: "Please do not pay your monthly rent with a check for $258, some bills, 8 quarters and 30 dimes."
--to my 2 year old: "Please do not put used toilet paper in any other place than the toilet."
--to a renter: "Please do not take our lawn mower to your friend's house and leave it there."
--to my 4-year-old: "Please do not step in dog poo and then get into the car."
--to a renter: "Please do not pick dandelions for 3 hours and then ask for a rent reduction."
--to children and renters: "Please do not do anything remotely annoying when I have PMS."

*A disclaimer: Not you, CW+KW.

A wicked offer

I've been looking online to try to secure some Wicked tickets for my next big giveaway (I mean for my dad to give to my sisters), but for some reason the tickets I got for $50 each are now worth $280? Talk about inflation.

Last night I checked Craigslist for Wicked tickets. There were the super lame entries advertising tickets for $75 that actually turned out to be $300 each. There was an entry for "wicked Jonas Brothers" tickets.

And then there was the wickedest, scariest entry of all time: (and [sic] still applies, though I did some editing with ellipses.)

"I have two tickets to Wicked...I planned this to be a special night for my girlfriend, but we broke up...and what can I say.... I just neglected to ask anyone until now.

So, I want a date to Wicked. I would love for the spontinaity of this to create a fun and memorable night. I'm not looking to date you, and I'm not looking for a girlfriend at all. But I do want a hot date to Wicked. And the more randon the better...since I am not in a relationship and not looking for one, I thought, let's have some fun!

So send me an email and tell me why I should take YOU. Your age doesn't matter, but share it, just cause I'll be curious. And by all means, send a picture. They will get first priority. About me - I'm 28, 6'2", athletic build, take good care of myself, brown hair, dark green eyes, college educated and have a great career. If I pick you as my Wicked Date, I'll tell you more about me, of course, and send pics.
So, ready...... GO!
P.S. If you are willing to offer a kiss goodnight... you're chances just might shoot up... ;)

If I thought that seeing Wicked was worth the risk of going on an extremely blind date with this guy, I would send this little response:
Dear Don Juan,
I am a little interested but mostly disturbed by your offer. But I am pretty desperate for a Wicked ticket for my sister. Before we discuss the subject of payment (date rape?), I have a few questions for you.
--Have you watched too many episodes of "The Bachelor"?
--Define college educated, and discuss any spelling classes you may have had (or not).
--Is there any chance that your two tickets are found on opposite sides of the theater, or perhaps for different nights?
--If you choose my sister, can she bring a guard dog with her?
--Are you a convicted sex offender?
--Did you remove your post from Craigslist last night of your own free will, or did the police make you?

Wicked, wicked, wicked. And not in the British English sense.

My big giveaway

Today is my day for spreading the love. You didn’t know I was a popular enough blogger to have a giveaway, did you? (Maybe I'm having delusions of grandeur.)

I’d like to say I’m offering free Wicked tickets, but that’s definitely not the case because if I had access to more Wicked tickets, I’d be back in a heartbeat, a selfish heartbeat. At least to see the crazy Tevye-lookalike cello player sawing away on his poor cello in the rain after the show, if not to see the AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL play itself! (Emily was right; you have to write about Wicked in CAPITALS!!! And when you're done writing in capitals, you have to call someone who's seen it and gush about it together for at least 30 minutes.)

This morning I showed Sage pictures from last night’s program booklet and made her laugh at my impersonations of Glinda (I mean Galinda) flouncing around during “Popular.” Sage was dazzled and excited with me and for me. It was very cute. Yesterday she kept asking me enthusiastically, "Are you excited to see Wicked, Mommy?!?" That was after she stopped crying about how much she wanted to see it with us. Which only happened after we bribed her with any redbox movie of her choice. ($1.06 versus $50...I think that trade-off will only work for a few more years.)

But back to the giveaway. This morning I got the following touching email:

“Hope this works for you.
If you don't need it send to someone that does. We have to stick together during these hard and uncertain terms. It doesn't matter how much you think a friend might not need it (sometimes we don't know what people are going through friends or no) Enjoy-free stuff!
Please share with your address contacts (GOD might be using you to intervene in a dire situation)
WHO DOESN'T LOVE "FREE"????????
Thanks!!”

Need I add a big "[sic]" to say that the grammar and spacing are original?

Anyone out there in a “dire situation”? Have no more uncertainty or direness. The answer to your problem is just a comment away (please post below). Then I will use a random integer generator to choose between comments 1 and 2 to see who the lucky winner will be that gets.....

COUPONS FOR FREE VELVEETA CHEESE AND SARAN WRAP!!!!!!

(These prizes seem almost as exciting as Wicked tickets when you write them in capital letters.)

I know. What a giveaway. A real answer to our prayers. If no one posts a comment, perhaps the Tevye-wannabe cellist will be the default winner. At least then he could wrap his cello in cellophane for rainy days. Then when he plays it, it might actually sound like an instrument. Perhaps I should go see Wicked again so I can offer him the coupons.

Also, as a side note, I wore the biggest earrings I own to see the play. Because that is my idea of ritzy. As I recall, I have only worn them once before, on Halloween. Before I had small grabbing infants that like to rip earrings through earlobes and use them for teethers. Oh yes--AND I wore boots. It was a night to remember.

Did I mention that the story was amazing? (Let us all purge from our minds that there is a book bearing the same name, and I will try to stop talking about how stupid that book is.) The play was not only a delightful prequel (sort of) to a well loved classic, but also a beautiful story that probed issues of intolerance and integrity. And the acting was amazing! And the costumes...wow. Even from the second to back row. Speaking of which, here is the view from our nosebleed seats, where we were almost trying to defy gravity.


So even if you're not interested in my Velveeta coupon giveaway, please leave a comment and let me know if you've seen Wicked so I know who I can call and gush with tomorrow.

We've gone green

If you recognize any of these quotes, then this post is for you.

“What’s the most swankified place in town?”

“I’ll teach you the proper poise, how to talk to boys…”

“Would it be all right by you if I de-greenify you?”

Last summer Mark kept Sage and Eliza for a long weekend while I went to Kansas to help Mark’s sister get ready to move. On my first morning back, over breakfast, Eliza began to sing “I’ll teach you…how to talk to boys…” I stopped dead in my tracks and promptly dialed Mark at work to ask what he had been teaching our kids while I was gone. I was more impressed to hear Sage sing from memory at least half of the song Eliza had begun at breakfast, “Popular,” from the Broadway musical “Wicked” that neither girl had ever heard before I left 5 days earlier.

By October 31^st, we were all such die hard “Wicked” fans (of the musical, and NOT the book), that I spent all day online and on the phone trying to get us tickets to see the show in Salt Lake 6 months later. When I finally got through I purchased the last two tickets that our bank had to offer that were together--on the back row, of the back section. And the effects reached to the back of our bank account.

And TODAY is the day for all of that waiting to pay off.

What is the most swankified place in town, you ask? Well, tonight it’s the Capitol Theatre!

And, yes, I know that wickedness never was happiness...but then again Broadway didn't even exist during Nephi's time.

Got milk?

Just yesterday I was bemoaning to my sister that Sage will be in kindergarten in a few months, and we will be "so tied down." But this morning my fears were assuaged when I realized that I am actually a creature of habit, and therefore will probably love the routine that inevitably accompanies life when you actually have one or more events on your calendar each day.

We ran out of milk on Saturday, but that was not to be remedied immediately since Mark and I were busy preparing talks to give on Easter in church. (We are huge cold cereal fans, and always have way, way, way too many boxes on our fridge.)

This morning I remembered with dismay that we were still milk-less and though our talks did go well, I couldn't have my morning bowl of cereal for the third (gasp) day in a row. And although I like pancakes, oatmeal, eggs, and just about every breakfast food on the planet (please come back to Utah,Shoney's breakfast bar!), since I almost always have a bowl of cereal in the morning, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. So I tidied the house instead of eating breakfast. And I exercised and showered. And now it’s 10:45 and I’m trying to decide how early I can justify eating lunch foods and just pretend like I didn't miss my normal breakfast.

As for my kids, they are totally unconcerned that there is no milk in the house because there are two baskets full of candy on the kitchen table. Which they are undoubtedly munching away on as I type this.

So instead of writing a blog about our Easter or making breakfast or even going to the store to get milk, which would all be logical responses to my predicament, I’m typing about habits. Which reminds me of another of my bad habits (and one of the best cartoons of all time, thanks Suzy).
Maybe I’ll give up computer floofing for Eastertide. Or maybe I'll buy a cow. Or maybe I'll just go make some breakfast for heavens sake.

A beautiful Easter message

Watch movie here to see full view.

The best policy

In nursery at church, Eliza made a puppet that has a sad face on one side that says “I am sad when I don’t tell the truth” and the other side says “I am happy when I am honest.” Although I think a more accurate puppet for her would be “I’m happy when I never get punished and always get treats,” I am glad that she is being taught the virtue of honesty at church, as well as at home.

This past month we had some disappointing run- ins where honesty was concerned.

There was an incident with a bank not paying up anticipated rewards due to a confusing wording. There was the “free” photo shoot that landed us a hefty “shipping and handling” fee after the fact (and some really unflattering pictures of Lily). And then there was one of Lily’s hospital bills (from her birth) that our insurance didn’t cover for because she had been charged for a “private room.” In the hospital nursery. (Mark pointed out that her little incubator did kind of have vaulted ceilings.)

I think it's safe to say that since the economy has taken a turn for the worse, everyone has begun to feel financial pressure. But that’s no justification for dishonesty. It looks like now is the time, more than ever before, to teach our kids to have integrity.

It’s easy to feel discouraged about widespread dishonesty. One day when I was reflecting with dismay on my experiences with dishonesty, I remembered two times last month when I’d left my wallet and purse at a store (and obviously my brain at home). Both times I recovered everything. The burden of despair I was feeling was lifted a little as I wondered what the person who returned my wallet was like. Was it a busy mom like me, whose children watched her turn it in? Was it an elderly man wheeling his grocery cart full of cat food back to Customer Service to turn my wallet in? Was it a teenager who figured someone with a taped up wallet needed those five bucks more than they did?

I suddenly felt hopeful for the world. And grateful that someone’s mom (or church teacher) taught them that “I am happy when I am honest.” And I realized that an important counterpart lesson (or puppet?) is “Other people are happy when I am honest.” And also “Other people’s husbands are happy when I am honest and return their wife’s wallet.”

And I felt hopeful for my neighborhood. I know that my neighbors aren’t lacking in honesty because I've been asked twice at church in the last month if I was pregnant. And my honest response might not mean much on April Fool’s Day, but the truth is that I may have had a small self-esteem crisis after that. Maybe there could be a puppet with a sad face that says “I have conflicted feelings when other people are honest about the size of my stomach.” But that could be confusing for two year olds. Because old people obviously haven't figured it out yet.