Archive for October 2012

It Doesn’t Hurt

October 30, 2012

I just got back from the dentist and it’s bad news. It always is.

I have always had bad teeth and have gotten the “what not” from a lot of different dentist. I hate it. I hate them. I am a rabid anti-dentite.

Must click picture!

I have had 5 root canals and endless cavities filled. With exception of one tooth. None, NONE were giving me pain.

It’s the same old story. Sit in the chair, have them look over my chompers, hear the numbers get called out, and then the dentist ask if any of my teeth were hurting me.


Well we need to dig some stuff and put in some metal and pull this tooth’s roots and fix this and fix that. Are you sure you haven’t been feeling all the decay going on in your mouth? It’s pretty gross. 


Today was no different. I got asked if I had any pain. Nope. The dentist took a look and found something he didn’t like. He decided to take an x-ray. Then he explained he was seeing some infection under my back tooth that had already had a root canal. He wanted to send me to a specialist. OK. Then he got the results of the x-ray. The infection is massive (well as big as it can get in my tiny mouth) and the tooth needs to be pulled out.


The dentist looked at me and said, “How can you not be feeling any pain with this?”

I don’t know.

If you are in pain, you take care of it. Usually the higher the pain, the quicker you do something about it.

Perhaps we would all be nicer people if we felt pain every time we talked bad about someone behind their back or if it hurt when we didn’t open the door for the lady with a double stroller. Maybe when we spend too much money and can’t live in our means, if we had real physical pain, we would stop doing that. Maybe.

But then again, people drink until they have huge hangovers and that doesn’t stop them from drinking again.

Just ask Bill.

Must also click this picture!


Idiots In England

October 26, 2012

Imagine you are a nice British mum and want to take your family to the movies.

Oh look Madagascar 3 is playing, jolly good.

Circus afro, circus afro,
Polka dot polka dot polka dot afro!

You grab some popcorn, make the kids go to the loo, and get your seats,

The movie starts and this is what you and the YOUNG children see:

Where is Alex and Marty?

Blimey! Somebody made a teeny tiny mistake and put on the wrong  movie. No big deal except the beginning of the movie opens with a flashback from the most terrifying scene from the first film. It’s where a body shoots full pelt towards the camera.

This really happened, you can read about it here.

The best part of the article is when they quoted The Washington Post.

Does this mean that everyone who was waiting to see “Paranormal Activity 4” a few auditoriums over got to see the first two minutes of ”Madagascar 3”? Surely that experience was equally disturbing.

We just saw a bloodied female corpse being thrown at the camera! AHHH!




Designers Are Idiots

October 25, 2012

Last night my sister posted this on Facebook.

Bla Bla Bla (Designer name withheld) needs 7 more models for the 15th of November. He got nominated as a Raw Artist in Salt Lake and will be featuring his designs. 🙂 You have to be 5’8” or taller and a size 2 or smaller to fit in the sample sizes. 🙂 Message him if you are interested!!! 🙂 His designs are AMAZING.

Here is my problem with that. Why can’t designers make their sample clothes in a more realistic size? My sister might be 5’8″ and a size 2 but I don’t know anybody else who is. Do you?

I am 5’5″ and wear a size 8. I do not consider myself fat. I do have fat stored in parts of my body I would love to get rid of. (My friends would love for me to get rid of my potbelly so I will stop complaining about it. One of these days, one of them is going to punch me in the face and say. “We get it, you have a fat around your waist. Sheesh!)

The thing is clothes lay different when it’s on a wider body. What looks cute on a pencil thin girl, doesn’t work for somebody 3 sizes up. My tushie hands out when I sit down and all the belly fat gets pushed up, it’s not pretty. I have often said while trying on clothes, “Didn’t the designer have someone try this on before they mass produced it?”

Well they did. It’s someone who is in the 1% of the populations. She has no bum, no waist, and no problem wearing his/her clothes.

Idiot designers.

This is why so many of us mom end up look like this:

Click the picture to see a sweet commercial.

Mid-Week Mommy Help: The Right Side Of The Bed

October 24, 2012

This week’s tip is mostly for moms who still have young kids. That being said, this is great advice to pass onto your daughters so pay attention. You are NOT allowed to share this with your sons, so don’t.

For some reason, when a couple gets married, they chose one side of the bed to sleep on and never change. It may be a conscious  choice or not, but it happens. We all end up on a  side and it becomes our territory, our kingdom. The side tables become the pedestals for our treasures such as jewelry, watches, and lip balm.

Here is the tip. Sleep on the side farthest away from the door.


Becauses when the kids cry in the middle of the night, and hubby isn’t moving an inch even though it’s his night to get up with the kids, I can place my freeze cold feet on the small of his back and kick him out of bed. He then falls out of bed near the open door and the hall night light helps wake him up. Then I roll over and go back to sleep.

It’s not that Chad doesn’t want to help, but his male body shuts down pretty good at night. I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t have the wiring of a woman’s brain (which never stops) or the fact that he is a soldier. Either way that man is asleep the second his head hits the pillow and doesn’t wake up till morning PT (physical training).

I have also at times when I’m not super happy with the mister, climbed over him to get out of bed to help the screaming child. Sure I can stand up on my own side and walk around the bed, but then I miss an opportunity to “accidentally” place an elbow or knee in a tender spot. It’s childish but in the middle of the night, nobody, NOBODY, is in the right state of mind.

We have moved to many houses and thus the side of the bed I sleep on has changed as where the door is in the master bedroom has changed. I have explained to my husband the reason I want to sleep far away from the door is that if we have an intruder, he will protect me. While this may be true, it’s not the real reason. Sure our kids aren’t little any more and get up every night, but nothing is worse than hearing a kid scream out your name and then puke.

Go get ’em Honey.

Ahhhh, I’m laying in a pool of my dinner that I regurgitated!

The Deep End Of The Pool

October 23, 2012

When we were kids we loved to go swimming in the summer.

They don’t have cement ponds up here in Alaska.

Swimming as a kid is fun because you don’t care about how your body looks in the swimming suit and you don’t get tired. The only problem one had was the choice between jumping into the crisp cool water all at once or inching your body in slowly.

I didn’t have a set choice.

Sometimes I just wanted to get down to business and swim so I would jump into the deep end of the pool. The cold water would hit me so hard it would shock my system and for a good couple of seconds time would slow down. Then I would resurface and immediately start swimming to get the shocked system up and running. It was brutal, it was hard, but it would be over quickly.

Other times I just wanted to inch my way in. First the feet, no problem. Then the legs, that would take a little time. I would chat with other kids who also wanted to ease into the pool. Soon we would be sitting on the steps, top half of us dry. Finally we could put it off no longer as a sweet pool game of “colors” was about to start. We would start swimming but keep our face out of the water. We would go line up with the other kids on one side of the pool and pick a favorite color. The kid who was “it” would turn his back to us and start calling out colors. If yours was picked you had to try to swim pass the “it” kid and get to the other side of the pool. The best way to do this is under water. My color was called and I would put my head under. Small shock, that would last half a second. Getting in the pool just took a good 20 minutes with lots of little shocks along the way.

As a grown up, I always take the first choice and jump right in. I have things to do, place to go and I just don’t have time to ease into things. I have learned to handle brutal, hard stuff and move on.

Reintegration with Chad has been, without my choosing, the second way, slow with lots of little shocks. The soldiers currently have half days and not a lot to do. Sometimes Chad’s half days are morning, sometimes afternoon. I don’t know what each day will bring. No good. We need a schedule. We need structure.

Here has been our life.

First 3 days home with Chad we do nothing. We are so happy to see him we lay around the house, happy as clams. Our feet are now in the water.

Next 5 days Chad has to go in to do post-deployment training and blood work. It’s half days, some longer than others, but we deal with it as it’s still new. Calves are now in the water.

Then I take off for a week to Utah. Chad is alone with the kids and gets to experience jumping into the deep end of the dad pool. He does great.

While I am gone a soldier in the unit takes his own life. Chad now has to step completely out of the reintegration pool and go take care of the soldiers family, including a wife and mother who hate each other.

I return home but I’m never sure when Chad will be around. He is still working with the families and getting ready to conduct a funeral and a memorial. We tried to have a family day on Friday with the kids out of school but it just didn’t happen. Chad was gone.

Yesterday was the memorial and we can close the book on that for now. Feet back into the water. Chad still has half days at work. Sigh.

I spoke to the commanders wife at the memorial and asked her if she could talk to her husband about the unit going to full days. I need things to get back to normal, 9 to 5 kind of stuff. She said she had already tried. She is sick of him hanging around and she can’t get anything done.

Bridget over at Twinism blog about this today. It’s called Getting Back To Normal. Read it here.

We all want to jump into the deep end of the pool and get our lives back.

The above could easily be my friends and I in just a few short days.
Watch out fellas!

Rachel Said What?

October 19, 2012

Every Monday night we have Family Home Evening. It’s a time set aside for our family to be together. There are no meetings, no phone calls (Don’t be sassy and start calling me on Monday night!), just quality time for us. Sometimes we study a Bible lesson, sometimes we talk about how we can help our communities and sometimes we just play a game. Even if you aren’t a religious person, I highly recommend doing this, especially when your kids get older. It’s good to bring the family together.

It’s not unusual for a FHE to end up like this.

Last Monday we had our Family Home Evening, but before I get to that, let me explain how I am trying to raise my girls.

Like ladies. Knees together, sit up straight, proper language, hair done and no strange/funny noises coming out of your body. Kind of like the ladies from the movie The Help, without all the hate from the white folk.

“Oh my, I had no idea what an ugly person I am on the inside.
Perhaps I’ll eat a poop pie and that will help.”

Back to FHE. Chad was giving the lesson about how the Lord created this earth and everything on it.

Chad: Who created the trees?

Elizabeth: Jesus.

Chad: Who created the flowers?

Leia: Jesus.

Chad: Who created us?

Rachel: (Starts giggling like a crazy school girl.) Well this is awkward. When a mom and dad get together…(More giggling.)


Did my daughter, my YOUNG LADY, just make a joke about sex?

Oh my. If I was a drinking woman…

Yooou kidz go ta bed alreaady.


Mid-Week Mommy Helps: I Work Out.

October 17, 2012

Being a mom is hard because you don’t see results right away, or even ever.

The laundry is never finished, meals have to be cooked THREE times a day, and as soon as you get the house clean, the kids wreak it in 10 minutes.

Sometimes I wish I had a job that included filing paperwork. My boss would hand me a stack of papers and say, “Put these away moron.” and then I would. Project done. I don’t have to see those papers ever again.

So to help keep your insanity (TOO LATE) as a mom, I offer up this tidbit to you.

Work out.

If you work out you will have flawless skin, beautiful eyes and nice hair.
OK, not really, you will just have muscles.

Work out? Really?

Yes, really, with weights.

Here is the deal. Running and doing aerobic exercises is good and all, however it takes FOREVER. Usually 45 minutes to an hour. I find myself losing interest after 20 minutes and I just want to watch some HGTV. (I like to live vicariously through those people who MAKE stuff.) Also if you stop running, even for one week, it’s hard to get back up to where you were. You have to maintain.

With lifting weights it takes the length of my attention span to work out. That is, you guessed it, 20 minutes. Sharon and I would do arms on Mondays, legs on Wednesday and a circuit training on Friday. Easy.  Even though we weren’t running around like chickens with our heads cut off, we would still sweat. Sharon’s theory is shorter and harder, perfect.

Sharon broke her foot and we stopped working out. That was about a month and a half ago. Guess what? My muscles are still there. I made something and it stayed. Success!

Last night we had a birthday party for Megan and Bridget. It was a lot of fun until I, yes me, introduced a hot topic that started a debate. I felt pretty bad as it wasn’t a nice quiet exchange of ideas. So to make myself feel better about my poor choice, I started flexing my sweet arm muscles and feeling how hard they are. True story. Then at the first chance I could I changed the subject. Thank you arm muscles, you are the best.

Let’s sum up.

Life as a mom.

To help you achieve something quickly and have permanent results, lift weights.

Awww. you’re so pretty.