Duct Tape Wallets

What is this mess you ask? Well, the cake frosting was delicious but the cake itself didn't turn out so well. So we resorted to eating the frosting off the top before I threw the whole thing away. Oh, you mean the red stuff! Why it's duct tape. Baby decided he'd try his hand at making duct tape wallets. These are some of his tries.

Olaf helped him and even found a youtube video for him to watch. He had a lot of fun making these and improving on the original design to make other things too, like change holders that you can stick anywhere.

He's so dang serious about it that I couldn't help but take a picture of him slaving away. As soon as he had made his first wallet Middle Child had the brilliant idea of selling them.

I think it's going to take a little more practice. But he's willing to try! Hopefully duct tape isn't too expensive.

My Boss

I showed up for work Tuesday morning and had a shock. My head boss had died suddenly the night before. I was in shock. I wasn't prepared. He was such a good man. He cared about people. One thing I realized after this is that I had never heard anyone say one single negative thing about him. I don't hear very many negative things, but not a single one? To me that is a testament to how great of a person he was. We will all miss him tremendously. Here's a link to an article in the paper about him.

Orem's Jim Reams remembered for his integrity, love of family

Parenting from Afar, a.k.a. Parenting from a Work Chair and Phone

I decided the boys needed to get up early. They start school in two short weeks. They need to acclimate to getting up earlier than 11am. They especially need to go to sleep at night before midnight. Despite my best intentions Summer always deteriorates into me being the first to bed. Bedtimes should start with the youngest going to bed first, not the oldest! I may rethink my strategy and let the boys sleep in after this week's adventures. If they're still alive.

Here's a sampling of my work calls one morning this week:

9:35am     Baby calls from home:  Mom! Middle Child (MC) is yelling at me to help clean up!

                Me:   I did tell you guys to clean the basement family room. It's pretty messy. It needs it.

9:37am    MC:   Mom! Baby is yelling at me to finish breakfast and help him clean up!

                Me:   Why are you eating so late? Hurry and finish and then go clean up. That's your chore today. 

                         (I love how their stories don't match)

9:41am    Baby:  MC yelled at me for not helping clean and I am! And he told me I can go to Heck.

                Me:    You two need to try and get along while the basement gets cleaned up, it's really messy. No more 

                           calling each other names. Let me talk to MC.

               Baby calls for his brother loud enough for everyone else in the office to hear without being on speaker 

                            phone.

               MC:      What Mom?

               Me:       Please get along with your little brother and clean the basement. Otherwise you may not get to go 

                            to the pool tomorrow.

               MC:       I don't care if I go to the pool. (you can hear the smirk in his voice)

               Me:        That's fine, I can take the computer away AGAIN.

               MC:       Fine (sulkily). We'll get it cleaned up! (huff huff)

9:45am   Another phone call along the same lines

9:48am   Another phone call. More threats.

9:52am    Another phone call. More accusations. Everyone sent to their room until I get home.

9:54am    Another phone call from MC's cell phone. I answer: 'WHAT!"

               Nothing on the other end.

               Me:        Hello!  Hello!  (pause) Anyone there?

               Just as I'm about to hang up I hear something. Soft. Wimpering. Finally, an incredibly soft voice: "Mom, 

                              Baby threw something at the back of my head."

               Me:         What was it?

               MC:        I don't know. It hurts.

               Me:         Are you bleeding?

               MC:        I don't think so. (pause while he checks) Nope. Just a tiny bit of blood.

               Me:         (In my best loving motherly voice) Maybe you'll quit fighting with Baby. Now go to your room now 

                               until I get home. 

9:56a.     I call the house phone to talk to Baby. Takes three calls for him to answer.

               Me:         You need to be in your room. You can't be throwing things at your brother.

               MC:        If he wouldn't make me lose my temper! I wouldn't do that!

               Me:         It's your temper and he can't make you lose it. Now get in your room and stay there until I get 

                              home.

9:58am    I call MC's cell phone to check on the patient.

               Me:         How are you feeling?

               MC:        I'm fine. (no crying or sniffling, totally recovered)

               Me:         All right. You need to stay away from Baby. Stay in your room until I get home. Wait! Wait! Wait! 

                              (he has a bad habit of hanging up before conversations are finished, especially when not going 

                              his way.) Walk the Dog. For a half hour. Wait! Walk him for at least a WHOLE HOUR!

               MC:        Ok.

10:02am   Baby:      MC is running away!

                Me:         No, I sent him to walk the dog so you two would quit fighting.

                Baby:      No, he said Good-bye when he left. And I know his Good-bye's. He's running away!

                Me:         (Laughing out loud! MC just has to rub it in that he can leave and Baby's stuck in his room) He's 

                               not running away! Now read your book in your room. He'll be back soon.

And that was the last I heard from them the rest of the morning. By the time I got home the chores were done to the boy's specifications so they only needed a little help finishing. And all feelings were back to normal. Now, do I let them sleep the rest of the summer away so they don't fight?

Please Hurry!!!

I was driving down the street at the very beginning of January and look! On the street! Drumming up business already. Heaven help me. I don't know if I can drive while laughing this hard.

Now, usually there is only one Liberty Look-a-Like. But on this fateful day as I begged Middle Child to take a picture while I was driving by very slowly (slow enough that I hope they didn't mistake the camera for a gun and call the cops) there were TWO Mr. Liberty's hanging out! This picture can't even do it justice but the Mr. Liberty without a sign is dancing pretty hard. It's not even that cold, it's not like he needs to stay warm.

And they wanted MY business! He pointed right at us as we drove by. I have never understood what kind of person it takes to sign up for this job, but I know one of the qualifications is CRAZY!

I know I probably shouldn't judge,

the guy is employed in these hard economic times.

April 15th can't come soon enough.

The Catacombs

The other day some cute young Fireman stopped by my office. (It's a dang good thing I don't work in the Public Safety Building which these guys frequent much more often than my corner basement office.) He needed some payroll stuff, probably for taxes since it's that time of year again.

I explained to him the person he needed was out to lunch and wouldn't be back for another half hour. He almost begged, "Is there anyone else that can do it?" Sorry, no such luck. We have these things we call Controls in Accounting to prevent embezzlement and fraud.

I mentioned he could come back or he could email her with his request. He mulled it over and decided he would call her later. He thanked me and headed out, but peeked back around the corner with one more witty comment.

"I know I'm not getting back in here. You're pretty locked down here in the basement, what with key pads and retinal scans!" And then we both laughed. He's not the first firefighter in search of Payroll who's been lost in the basement catacombs with keypad locks on every door, trying to find any way out.

I Want My Two Dollars

In case you forgot, last Sunday was Father's Day. And at church, as usual, the under-12 kids sang a song or two to honor their dad. Our group of youth is slowly dwindling, I counted thirteen kids singing. But they sang great and loud enough for us to hear way in the back. When they were excused it took Baby an unusually long time to reach our seats. I didn't know what took so long until I talked to a friend today.

My friend's family had been gone for the last three weeks and Middle Child had taken care of their cat and mowed the yard. After he left for Scout Camp, Baby filled in. And Baby expected payment. As he was running off the stage he spotted my friend's husband and children. He stopped mid-step, almost fell over, stepped backwards, and pointed accusingly at them.

"You're back!" he practically shouted in the middle of our mostly older, quiet, reverent congregation. "You owe me a couple bucks! I took care of your cat!" And then he sidled over to them in expectation of payment.

The poor husband was trying his best not to laugh, not to draw more attention to themselves, to shush Baby, and to get him back to his seat quietly. "We'll get you your money. We haven't forgotten you."

That must have been enough to console Baby for the day. He took off again, pounding his feet all the way down the aisle, around the corner, and down the gym floor aisle to our seats. Quiet is not part of my boys' abilities. They can do plenty of other things, but Quiet is not one of them.

By the time he reached us I was trying my darnedest not to laugh and not to be embarrassed. He was running through church! Again! And as he sat down I tried to tell him not to run through church (again!).

Not very quietly he replied, "I was just coming back to my seat," as if I accused him of a crime for which he was not guilty. And I was, the crime was the inability to be Quiet. I've almost given up, but I keep trying for some reason. One of these days the reminder may actually sink in. Probably when he has little boys of his own.

Apparently, this afternoon Baby went to my friend's house. He knocked on the door and demanded payment, again. The husband laughed and told Baby he had given the money to me. "But I haven't seen it!" He just laughed some more and told him to ask his mommy for the money. Tonight I paid Baby his two dollars.

Next week we're renting Better Off Dead and letting Baby see what happens when you're too persistent in demanding payment. It's a cult classic. For my generation.

Spring is in the Air

It's Spring! Spring is here! The daffodils are blooming. (The year I went to Scotland the daffodils were in full bloom in JUNE!) The crocuses are all gone. The yard finally needs watering after a few dry days. The sky is blue and the temperatures are warm but not hot. All the remaining patches of permasnow have finally melted. (You know the black snow that has a hard time melting.) Summer blockbusters have hit the theaters. Go Star Trek! And all the roadside crews are busy cleaning up the winter garbage that is flat and icky after being piled under layers and layers of dirty snow along the road. If it hasn't disintegrated yet there's a good chance it won't anytime soon. Off to the landfill with you!

The other morning on my way to work under a beautifully blue sky I noticed a work crew ahead, leisurely picking up garbage. Then I saw the sign announcing the crew so no one would run over any of them. It said, "Sheriff's Inmate Cleanup Crew." And then the next sign a few more feet down the road said "Sheriff's Cleanup Crew" with a very blank spot where 'Inmate' had been yellowed out. It gave me a good laugh on my way to work and reminded me not to pick up hitchhikers wearing orange vests.

Working Moms Rule the World

Utah is predominantly Mormon and the religion/culture encourages moms to stay home with their children. This is all fine and dandy but doesn't work for everyone. The average wage for the US is $43,889 but in Utah it is only $36,69 (2007 figures). Try living on that salary with a starter townhome costing over $150,000. You'll never get to go on vacation again. And even though being a stay-at-home-mom is the ideal in this area of the world, Utah actually has a higher percentage of women that work.

"In 2006, roughly 60 percent of women over the age of 16(Utah figures) —were participants in the labor market. Nationally, only 57 percent of women are in the labor force." http://jobs.utah.gov/opencms/wi/pubs/hardatwork/executivesummary.pdf

For reasons unknown, some women in Utah feel the need to push the stay-at-home-mom agenda onto everyone they see in the workforce. There are many reasons why women choose to work; using their education instead of wasting it, complementing husband's income, being a single mom/supporter, to get out of the house for some sanity time, and some women don't like staying home. These are only a few of the reasons to work. I personally work for a couple reasons, the main one is having the ability to support the family if something were to happen to Olaf.

But Sister-in-Law Nurse deals with the public face-to-face and someone always makes a comment about her working. Because she has a picture of her kids hanging from her ID badge she is always asked about them. She is not the only one that has to deal with people telling her she should be home with her kids. My friend also works in the medical field and people are always commenting to her how she should be home with her kids and not out working. It drives her crazy too.

• "What cute kids, wouldn't you rather be home with them?"
• "That's too bad that you have to work."

But then after she explains she only works three days a week and she wants to have a career to fall back on in case something happens to her hubby, she gets the sympathy/understanding comments.

• "Oh, well that's not so bad if you get to be home more often."
• "At least you don't work five days a week!"

I think she should take another approach. I think she should have a couple different stories on hand for know-it-alls like these.

• "I was already going to school when I met my husband. We got married just after I finished school and I was planning on quitting when we had kids. But a few months after I got pregnant with our first child he was in a horrible work accident that left him severely maimed/disfigured/handicapped and he can't work anymore. In fact I need to work to pay for the enormous medical bills. At the time it was so distressing that I miscarried the baby and now we can't get pregnant."
• "These are my nieces and nephews. My husband and I can't get pregnant. We tried adoption but because of a serious condition he has no one will let us adopt."
• "We are both carriers of a genetic disease that kills babies in their last trimester. We've gotten pregnant a few times but they have all inherited this disease and never lived."

Maybe if she told some of the busybodies these stories they'd shut their traps and leave her alone.

I'm a Magician

I am a Magician. I'll bet you didn't know that? But I have been making things disappear at my house since I started working Part-Time:

1. The piles of dirty laundry
2. The dust bunnies of dog hair
3. The TV programs recorded on my DVR
4. The number of Take-out meals
5. The smudges and streaks on the windows
   
6. The dirty dishes in the sink
7. The undone homework of my children
8. The toothpaste scum in the bathroom sinks
9. The pile of ironing
10. The children's lack of chores

Thanks to the possibility of working part time (which can be chalked up to this economy, the job used to be full time) I have time to do the things I hadn't done much of for the last six months. And I love it! I don't ever want to work full time again. And my children's friend's parents have informed me that my children LOVE me being home when they get home from school. That right there makes it worth the teensy paycheck.

Eat Your Heart Out Hollywood

My new place of employment has a Coke machine. Not a vending machine with cans of coke for $.50 or even bottles of coke for $1, but a fountain machine with several options including Diet Coke! And depositing change in the "Soda Money" box is optional. So if I forget to bring myself a Diet Coke to work, it's already there.

This working 8am to 1pm is wonderful! I love getting home before the kids so I can workout. I am going to lose ten pounds. Or at least pretend to all of you that I'm a hot, workout machine. I am going to become the hottest, newest, latest Rockstar Wife. And then I will be all snotty to them and not invite them to my parties and snub my nose at them at school functions. And they will clamor around me begging for my latest "home party" invitation so they can buy jewelry or makeup or candles.

The next best thing I can do with my free time is clean house like a banshee. I will have the perfectest house in Utah County. I will look like I live in a museum with the perfect accessories from Pottery Barn and the most beautiful flowers in several vases strategically placed throughout the house. My children will have the prettiest playroom and Pottery Barn will ask to use my playroom in their next catalog. And I'll never ever let my kids play with anything because that would just mess things up and I can't have a messy house anymore.

And the next best thing is to involve my children in a few more activities. I must try to bring out all their talents. If we don't excel in everything I am going to be held accountable on Judgment Day for wasting my children's talents. I must involve them in piano, violin, all sports (especially baseball, I do live in Spanish Fork), acting, art, dance, singing, and definitely organ, you never know when my child will be the last organist in their congregation and he will be able to bring joy every Sunday to the church.

Lastly I will need to do more baking and cooking. I need to hone those baking talents of mine. I will practice making the perfect pie filling, cookies, brownies, cake, and frosting. I will become the food guru in my neighborhood. Everyone will call me for the latest hip ingredients and cooking styles. I will also be able to relay to everyone how to use their wheat and beans in new and delicious dishes so everyone will be able to live off their food storage for two years. Everyone will be on my doorstep on that fateful day when we have no choice but to eat our food storage and I will be ready with recipes and cooking classes for the masses.

Fashion Revisited

Husbands are so good for some things. But not other things. Like helping me pick out clothes to wear. As long as they're tight he loves it. Nothing slightly loose, cuz that looks like Grandma clothes and heaven forbid he be married to someone old! I must show how young I am at heart. I don't know if other husbands are this way because I've heard of a few who buy their wife clothes and shoes and even purses. Olaf would never attempt to buy me clothes without me first seeing them. He's got marriage-goggles and would probably buy a size 6 or something wonderful like that which I could-never-even-if-I-lost-50-pounds fit into. But at least he thinks of me like that.

The fun thing has been that I have been buying lots of clothes the last six months. It's so much fun to wear new things and have somewhere to go in them! If I'm at home I just want to be comfortable. But when I'm at work I want to be comfortable also, but in a business-type way. I have perfected the art of wearing sneakers with slacks but also heels with jeans. I know, it's been done forever, but I'm just catching on. Remember that post about how fashion-conscious-deficient I am? I still am, but I'm getting better.

I've also been stockpiling shoes as though we were headed for another World War with shoe rations. I had a teacher in Junior High who used to steal her dad's shoe coupons during WWII so she could get more shoes. She figured he didn't need as many shoes. And she was probably right. Men only need a few pair of shoes; brown and black dress shoes, tennis shoes for running/walking/hiking, and maybe a few more for good measure, but not the 25+ that I need in order to match all my outfits for work. And thankfully most men tolerate our passion for shoes.

The downside af all my shoppig for myself is that Olaf's wardrobe hasn't been added to for a while. I just realized he probably needs more shoes, he's wearing out the old ones. He also probably needs more jeans. I've tried to buy him some stylish men jeans, but he just doesn't love them so I'm about to send them to Goodwill where someone who appreciates fashion will buy them. I guess this weekend I will have to take him Jeans and Shoes shopping. At least with my new job I can stop by the mall on my way home from work and pick up some more killer deals for me without fighting the crowds!

My Favorite Restaurant

Today I had lunch at McDonald's. Yeah! I was craving a Double-Cheeseburger-No-Ketchup. Love that sandwich. I know. It's sad. But that's me. Simple as can be.

I'm proud of McDonald's, they're putting the handicapped to work. My Order-Taker/Cashier was hard of hearing. I'm not sure a half-deaf person should be taking orders from people. Today when I got in line I ordered a 1.) Double-Cheeseburger-No-Ketchup, 2.) Small Fry (gotta watch that girlish figure run away), and 3.) Medium Diet Coke. I swiped my card and patiently waited for my food. Then the Order-Taker/Cashier handed me a small cup. All of a sudden my whole order was suspect. What if she didn't get my Double-Cheeseburger-No-Ketchup order correct?

"I needed (no emphasis added even though I was feeling it) a Medium Diet Coke," I calmly explained.

She kind of looked around, looked at the cash register (I'm sure she was wondering if she should charge me the extra $0.30), and finally just gave me the Medium cup.

Then the other girl behind the counter slapped my burger on the tray. I didn't see that scrap of paper designating my Double-Cheeseburger-No-Ketchup as Special and Different from the rest. I didn't say anything at the time. I just grabbed my tray and headed back to my favorite table in the back corner. It's pretty low traffic back there and I can read my book in peace. I promptly ate my French Fries. Those must be eaten before they go cold. The Double-Cheeseburger-No-Ketchup will keep it's heat long enough for me to stuff my face with fries.

Then I took a deep breath and opened the paper on the Double-Cheeseburger-Probably-With-Ketchup, expecting to find Ketchup today. Not that I was happy about it, but I wasn't about to go up and complain when the poor girl had hearing issues. But much to my surprise, the scrap paper for special orders was underneath the Double-Cheeseburger-No-Ketchup! Yeah! Lunch was great after all. And my apologies to the Order-Taker/Cashier for doubting her abilities.

The Pros

The Pros of Working Full-Time over Daycare

1. Lunch hour! This is my favorite perk of working. A full hour of time to myself to do whatever I please. No children, mine or others, calling my name. I haven't had a free lunch hour in 10 years and love this time, even if I just sit in the break room eating leftovers and reading a book. I get to meet Olaf at least once a week for lunch, which is priceless.
   
2. Paid Time Off! I get paid to not work! I get paid to go on vacation instead of saving up not only for vacation but for the money I'm not making while gone.
   
3. And along with PTO comes Paid Holidays. I get paid to stay home on Christmas and a bunch of other holidays. Who doesn't love a paid holiday, something I hadn't experienced for the last decade.
   
4. Bathroom breaks. Whenever I used the bathroom during daycare either a fight would break out or someone would start crying my name. No one does that at my work, thank goodness. I'd be a little worried if it happened there.
5. A steady paycheck and I don't even have to beg for it! No more wondering how much I'm going to make this month and whether I'm even going to get paid.
   
6. An eight hour workday and set work times. No more working 6am to 6pm and waiting on someone to show up in the evenings, when I had many more important places to be.
   
7. The chance to get the kids ready every morning without other children pestering me for my attention.
   
8. The ability to have meaningful conversations during the daytime hours with my adult coworkers. My brain no longer feels like it's going to mush, at least most days.
   
9. No more snotty noses or dirty diapers to change! Nothing more needs to be said.
   
10. Benefits. Not that I need them, but at least they are there.

New Beginnings

I started a new job this week and I sure am tired! I'm a little too tired to be clever and witty, which is how I try to write normally. As I drive home from work I try to think of witty titles for a post I might write that night. But then I get home and have things to do and rarely even get to the computer.

Last night was my first night using the metering system to get on the highway. I was gonna call it "Christmas on the Highway." I was gonna write about how the pretty lights greet us as we enter the highway, putting us in a cheery Christmas mood so we won't get road rage. . . That was as far as I got in my thinking because as I tried to switch lanes in an attempt to stay on the highway until my exit (15 miles down the road) someone else cut me off trying to be faster and cooler than me in my New Old Car.

Monday I thought about writing about "Swimming in Mud" which was how I felt during my first day at work. I tried to read through some manuals, which was pretty useless. So I tried to do what was in the manuals and finally by the end of the day I got one thing done. Thank goodness for some training to take my mind off my uselessness.

Today I got flowers from Hubby. It's our 15th anniversary. He's so sweet! I've been thinking for weeks of sweet things I could write to honor him on our 15th but my mind is blank tonight. Let me tell you he is the sweetest guy I ever found. He treats me like Gold and never complains about me despite my many faults (and let me tell you, there is no shortage of faults in my arena). I am so lucky to have someone so wonderful.

Tomorrow is Middle Child's birthday. I already told you about the Nintendo DS fiasco. So now I have no presents for him. I guess tomorrow I will be going shopping on my lunch break for a DS game. I've put off his friend birthday till the end of the month. This way he will have time to reconnect with friends at school and invite them to his party and I will have time to shop for a present!

Hopefully next post, whenever that is, will be much more entertaining!