Am I Flattered?

Remember how I remind some people of the Progressive Girl?

On Saturday I heard another one: CNBC's Erin Burnett.


I didn't know who she was, but when I checked it out -- wow, thanks. Younger, thinner, potentially smarter. Good job. Great hair. She's a bit more -ahem-expressive than your average financial news commentator. I'm pretty sure that is what prompted the comparison. And from what I gather the supposed lad mag cover is a fake... so that's a relief.

Because ewww.

There are many women I admire and would like to resemble more closely. None of them are famous.

Frivolous

Last week I had a little health scare that I kept mostly to myself. My kids didn't know, nor many of my friends. One of the first things I did was get my hair done and toes painted. Somehow it felt like if I was falling apart on the inside I shouldn't have to look like it on the outside. The polka dots made me smile for days. I indulged myself by pointing them out to random strangers at the salon and friends at church.

In fact, as I went about my week keeping these things to myself, I indulged a lot. I wondered what people must think of a woman fresh from the salon, with polka-dot toes, leaving her kids to fend for themselves at home while she gets treats. What would I think? It gave me pause.

One bad morning I indulged in too much internet research and was rescued by a good friend who insisted I step away from the computer, get dressed and go to lunch with her. That helped. Another day I was distracted by Relief Society work (have you tried indexing yet?) and helping out a friend. I was grateful to lose myself for a while.

But then came a very bad day involving a small, relatively painless breast biopsy and more emotional upheaval than I anticipated. It was truly awful. As I prepared for my appointment, what came to mind was part of the blessing I received when I was set apart as Relief Society president -- a blessing of health to be able to fulfill my responsibilities. So I paused and considered that.

And although I'd like to say that I immediately felt at peace and went about the day with a quiet reassurance that everything would be all right, I was only calm on the outside. I couldn't stop myself from weighing potential futures. I pushed aside the comfort of those words and continued running mental scenarios in an attempt to prepare for various unknowable outcomes.

By the next day I was closer to accepting whatever the future brought and waited somewhat calmly for the test results. And it turns out I am fine. But what if that were not the case? No amount of polka dots would have comforted me.

In Matthew, the Savior taught, "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. " (Matt. 10:29-31)

I know this to be true. I have had many personal witnesses of God's love for me and seen my life blessed with tender mercies of the Lord. My favorite verse of scripture, also from the New Testament, is this:

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27)

Next time my heart is troubled I hope to more quickly remember to "trust God and believe in Good-Things-to-Come." I wish the same for you.

Ick

I bought one of these books in an airport bookstore. Although I quickly rejected the one with the red cover, a brief perusal of the yellow book failed to reveal anything objectionable so I grabbed it and ran for my plane.

I should have known better. And I think that if I'd been less rushed I would have recognized how an ick factor in one practically guarantees corresponding yuck in the others. But I was in a hurry and I wanted something to distract me on the plane and the writing and characterization seemed pretty strong.

And guess what? The writing is strong. The characters are interesting and the plot is compelling. Which is why it's a bestseller.

But there's some disturbing stuff in there. Made me sick. I am not sure what OCD-fueled impulse pushed me to finish the book, but I will not be reading the other two. And I recommend you not read them, too.

Which is a shame, because the author is obviously gifted.


Read any good books lately?

Cinnabon: A Haiku

Too sweet and too gooey
Barely made a dent in it
Blecchhh... so not homemade


(For John)

Cinnabon: A Review

Barely made a dent in the thing.
Too sweet, too gooey.
Not homemade.

Blecchhh.

Boring... or Something

Yesterday we lived up to expectations doing boring stuff around the house, but today Anna and I were outta the house early. We went to our new dentist, the post office, Home Depot, and the Sears appliance store for vacuum bags. Glamorous stuff, I know.

Just for fun we ran into Cinnabon along the way. It was our first time. (See how I'm exploring new vistas close to home?)

At the dentist I spotted a little round tin on the desk and asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

It was.

So of course I proceeded to gently heckle the man checking us in about my surprise at seeing that in a dental office -- how he knows what that's doing to his gums -- and how I just thought I'd help him start the day off right.

He said it was fine, that he gets it from his wife, the dentist and hygienists all the time. (At this point a co-worker poked her head around the corner to claim heckling credit along with the rest of us.) I smiled to offset the nosy busybody nosiness.

Surely you're not surprised that I would heckle a perfect stranger?

Didn't think so.

After It's Not the 4th

Yesterday, because a.) we are trying not to be so boring and b.) we were so intensely boring all weekend, and c.) the only other option was to stay home and clean, we made like the Wilks and declared a Family Fun Day!

John and the girls got a head start while I had presidency meeting. They went to IHOP for breakfast and Sam Moon for purses. The girls did a good job! A rose-colored bag sporting a large matching rosette for one, a denim-sparkly-bow mini for the other. If you have met the two ladies in question I'm sure you can match the girl to the purse.

That afternoon we went to the local fun palace and zoomed around on go-karts for a few hours. John gave the girls some pointers in the batting cages while I looked on, trying not to vomit sports anxiety all over the children. I'm not so athletic -- have you met me? After one round I stepped away from the cage and left the instructing to someone who can actually hit a ball.

Go-karts I can do. Our friends' eight-year-old son was a speed demon in a blue kart, so when they moved on to mini-golf I claimed his kart and zipped around the course, lapping Anna several times. John and Kate rejoined us and after a few more runs we went to test drive a real car and then headed to the Tropical Sno shack behind Kroger.

It was our first time. We tried Tiger's Blood, Root Beer Float, Blue Raspberry, and Bubblegum. Yummy yum yum.

At home I helped the girls play each other in Scrabble and John made pasta. Then the girls watched mindless Disney channel programming while John and I saw Invictus. Loved it.

This morning, after I address the dishes (regular readers will recognize my morning routine -- some day I may switch to evening pots and pan duty) we are heading downtown to a free museum day. The girls are not quite as enthusiastic about this plan, but I LOVE it.

Side note: John, Karissa, and I visited Aunt Carolyn years ago when they still lived in South Carolina and she got us tickets to tour Biltmore Estate. We asked if my cousin was going to come with us, and Aunt Carolyn assured us he was not the least bit interested. "Our kids were raised in amusement parks -- Richard and Cathryn's kids went to museums." This comment delighted John so much he repeats the story to this day.

So we're off to the DMA to uphold a family tradition. With some Indian food thrown in for good measure. And maybe a second shot at the snow shack on the way home. Just for fun.

But let's be clear: I'm pretty sure Wednesday is going to be boring. I can't keep up this pace all summer!

Not the 4th of July

It's not the 4th... and I'm not at Grandma's watching the world's most charming small town parade and enjoying Call family brunch in the cool Evergreen backyard. I did get to enjoy a family dinner last week, though, so I'm slightly appeased.

Anna asked if we would be going to our local parade but when I explained they don't throw gobs of candy like they do at the East Millcreek parade she seemed fine with missing it. I'm not sure if they didn't cancel it anyway because of rain. The rain this week has cooled things down, although today the humidity is up with a vengeance and something that blew in stuffed my head up.

I feel icky. So I sent John with the girls to see that other Avatar movie, since I went with them to Karate Kid yesterday -- it was good. Particularly entertaining to watch Will Smith expressions play across son Jaden's face. This version's a lot harsher than the original so I don't recommend it for younger kids. Anna (8) was disturbed by the fighting.

I have been bumming at home with a book. There has been talk of go-carting later if the weather allows or we may go look at a used car, but I think I'll hold off on the additional excitement until Monday since it is a holiday weekend.

The girls are looking forward to snow cones after the movie. I'm content to hibernate in the A/C. I'm hoping there's a frozen lemonade bar out in the garage.

Big times at the Cliff house!

Not the Blue People

Ohhhhhhh! Anna wants to see the OTHER Avatar movie -- the one that has a longer subtitle and something to do with four elements.

We can probably do that.

Favorites

This morning as I heard dishes clanking in the kitchen I called out to inquire which daughter was my favorite? Because whichever child is most helpful is my favorite -- a designation I cheerfully and shamelessly encourage. This morning it was Anna loading the dishwasher. I love Anna. She's my favorite.

After the dish loading, which lasted all of 30 seconds and did not include the sound of pot washing, Anna came in to snuggle on my lap and ask when we were going to see Avatar. It took a bit of the bloom off the kitchen help.

She's been campaigning for days. Although she's rather artless, the dishes first thing in the morning caught me off guard. I told her one of my friends said it might be inappropriate for younger kids and she protested, "It's only her opinion" and slumped off upstairs.

Kate is reading in the family room. She is approaching her twelfth birthday and can sometimes be relied on to wash pots and pans. How does she feel about doing the dishes? An encouraging clank, then silence. Curses! Should never have bought that book at Target yesterday...

Anna's back. "Maybe on Saturday I can see it with Daddy?"

Sigh.

Can hardly believe no one wants to clean pots and pans this morning. Yes, they are from last night. And no, they are not science experiments because I did rinse them.

"Kate! Don't you want to do the dishes so I can blog about what a good helper you are?"

Prolonged moan. Encouraging getting-up-from-the-book sounds. Then nothing. No one is my favorite!!!

Excuse me while I go do dishes.