Story #2

I was so excited! I was packing up my little maroon truck, getting ready for the trek to Oregon. It was going to be a full weekend of snowboarding with my man. As I was walking across the parking lot, arms filled with snowboarding gear and my duffle bag, I gracefully slipped on a patch of ice and went flying into the air. I landed on the ice alongside my belongings. Quickly I looked around to see if anyone had seen my clumsiness in all of its glory. Luckily only my (now laughing) roommate. I picked myself up, grabbed my gear, and put it into the truck. I then limped my way back to my apartment. Within a matter of minutes it was as big as my behind. Later that day it was confirmed broken.

Monday morning found me walking between two friends to our spanish class. I, in my big black boot, would be getting my leg cast in a matter of hours. It had been three long days. We were within a few hundred feet of the building when all of a sudden a familiar air-born feeling was upon me. I once again found myself in the air, only this time I landed on my nose instead of my leg. Through gritted teeth I told my friends to stop laughing. Blood was quickly staining the white snow.

And then all of a sudden I was being carried in someone's arms. I looked up into the face of LaMar, our spanish class comrade. I protested, but he would not put me down. We were headed to the Student Health Center on campus to get an x-ray of my nose. And then the unmentionable, that has been mentioned twice already, happened. Within a few feet of the building, LaMar slipped on the ice, which threw me into the air. I landed on the ground with a thud. LaMar landed on top of my booted broken leg with a bigger thud.

LaMar was later recognized as "Man of the Year" at Ricks College.

Three Truths and a Lie

So, as I'm sure you all can tell, I've been having quite the dry spell with my entries lately. The other day Dave and I were playing the "Two truths and a Lie" game over text messaging. I decided to give it a try on my blog. Since I have NUMEROUS stories I could tell, I decided to make it three truths instead of two. And I decided that all of these stories will come from my college years. If you are someone that knows about these stories, please don't give it away in the comments section. I'll put a poll on the side of the blog so the voting can begin as to which story is the lie. So, without further ado, here is the first story....

L and K, my roommates, thought "Biology Boy" (a.k.a. Ben) was so cute. Every day after biology class I had to hear them gush over him. To each other. Because heaven forbid they actually talk to him. Or even look in his direction. In fact, the only reason we knew his real name is that I had happened to catch a glimpse of his paper with his name written at the top. L was just too shy to talk to him. And K thought she was flirting with a boy if she so much as smiled at him.

One day I got so tired of hearing about Ben knowing full well neither of them had any intentions of ever doing anything about it. So, I decided to do something about it. I called the college operator and got his phone number. And then I called him. And we talked. For a long time. I, of course, was using an alias because L and K would kill me if I used their real names and I personally had no interest in him. I flirted like he was the last man alive. He ate it up like candy. So much so that he wanted to know where I lived. Which of course I lied about. And wouldn't luck be on my side when he said he knew ALL of the girls in that apartment and he knew I was not one of them. I quickly hung up the phone.

A minute later it rang. L, K, and I yelled to everyone in the house NOT to answer the phone.

Our roommate answered the phone.

We were wildly shaking our heads to NOT give him any information.

She told him where we lived.

5 minutes later there was a knock at our door. We told everyone NOT to answer the door.

Our roommate answered the door.

L, K, and I ran for the back bedroom, leaped into the air, and landed with a thud, one on top of the other in between both beds. Luckily, at Ricks College, there was a rule that no boys were allowed in the bedrooms. A few minutes later we heard the door close. We tiptoed out of the bedroom and found our roommate. She then proceeded to tell us how not only did she tell the boys (we found out there were 5 boys that had come over! At midnight!) MY and only MY name, but she found my photo album and showed him pictures of ME so he could be sure to recognize me the following day in biology class.

I didn't go to biology class the next day.

Happy Halloween!!

Friends at First Sight

(Knock at the door)

Me: Hello

Random Boy: Hi. Is there a boy here with brown hair that comes about to my shoulders?

Me: Um, I have a son named Izak, is that who you're talking about?

Random Boy: I don't know. Someone just told me that there was a boy here that might be able to come ride bikes with me.

Me: Well, we're about to take naps right now, maybe he can later today though (With me riding behind him, pulling Landon in the bike trailer, of course. You know, so Izak feels super cool and like a big-boy.)

Random Boy: Okay, I'll come back later.

(Later on at Costco...)

Izak: Mom, we need to hurry so we can get home before it's dark.

Me: Why?

Izak: Because I'm suppose to go ride bikes with my friend.

So, if any of you are looking for a friend with brown hair that's about 5'7'', just come a knockin'...

Here Comes Trouble

In my social work years, I learned real quick,

some kids were made cuter, but it's a sneaky trick.

You see, the cuter they come, the bigger the trouble-makers.

and God made them just like that so there'd be takers.

You don't believe me? Then you tell me,

when's the last time you stayed mad at a cu-tie?

I should've seen the red flag when this little guy came out,

because he's as cute as a button, without a doubt.

With that being said, I'm sure you can guess

how potty-training's going, and who's having success.

I'll give you one clue, it's not this girl,

but I'll spare you the details so you won't hurl.

Yep, he's as cute as can be, but it comes with a price.

You never know if he'll be naughty or nice.

So remember the next time you say you want a cute one,

you might soon be wishing you were a childless nun!

Edited to add: Please know that this poem was written only as comedic relief for a frustrated-potty-training-parent. I know that I am very blessed to have my children, and would never wish that I did not have them (even if one poops all over my floor).

Long Overdue

So, I've been meaning to dedicate a post to my good man for a while, and seeing how it's his birthday today, I figured today would work out perfect to FINALLY get this post written.

I could tell you that the reason for this post is because of all these random reasons like...

• He's now ranked in the top 8% in his class with a 3.92 GPA (yawn).
• He makes us VERY healthy breakfast smoothies every day (even when he leaves at 6am, but not when he leaves at 4am, what's up with that?).
• He watched the boys a number of times this summer so I could go spend time with my sister in Portland and go to NYC for my big 3-0.

... but I don't want to bore all of you with those miniscule details of his life...

So the REAL reason(s) for this post is because my husband has some uniquely impressive talents that need to be highlighted such as...

• His ability to quote Ramona Quimby better than anyone else I know (It has NOTHING to do with the fact that he has me check out Ramona Quimby audiotapes for him to listen to in the car. Seriously. They're for him.) Melts. My. Heart.
• He has a very positive outlook. For example, the other day he found out that we live within 30 minutes of a nuclear power plant that if it were to explode, it would have a 50 mile radius of exposure. "But, the good thing is that we'd go really fast". See? Always positive.
• Last, but not least, Dave is a domestic extraordinaire. See the evidence below (Landon's b-day cake). All hand-crafted by Domestic Dave (he insists I call him that) himself.

It's nice to know that if this whole Doctor thing doesn't work out, he's got a fall-back plan.

Just wanted to let you know, David, that even though you are obviously getting older, you are sexier now than the day I met you. INSIDE and out. Seriously. I. LOVE. YOU.

Shout Out

Dear Maama,

David thanks you for the new office chair.

Izak thanks you even more for the new bed.