Never Doubt My Magical Powers

It seems there are some out there who might have, at one time or another, expressed some doubt regarding my decorative abilities. I do believe the evidence to follow will once and for all set the record straight.

For a year, I've been promising the munsters I would decorate their bedrooms. Thanks to Stretch and his unending energy that drives him to just jump in and start projects at the drop of a hat, the ball started rolling - rather, the paint roller started rolling while I was away on business - and I had no choice but to finish the endeavor. With color on the walls finally, the girls were getting pretty antsy to see a finshed product. 

I have to admit, I was a little intimidated by the thought of pulling together a decorating scheme for a bright pink room and a two-tone purple room. Neither are my cup of tea; if I had my way, they would both have rooms that are extensions of my rustic country arrangements found throughout the house. I'm sure Squid could sense my anxiety because she really didn't think I was going to pull it off to her satisfaction. Let's just say, she's not worried now. I think the pic below of the 'blindfold moment' says it all.

Enjoy.......

And now for the Bear's big reveal moment ....

Someone In A Club Tonight Has Stolen My Ideas

’ve had the itch to write all day today. Right about the time Legacy spit me out on 215 this morning, I had an overwhelming impression that I needed to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, and tell a story. This urge will hit from time to time, but usually only serves as a maddening reminder that I have two tremendous book ideas with which I have done nothing! Writing an actual book that contains organized thoughts and fully developed story lines seems such a daunting task. I give up and quit before I even start. Instead, I peck out these little blurbs that come together quickly and recap goings-on with little more than a few paragraphs and 20 minutes of commitment.

So what zippy fast tale needs telling today? Nothing really. So I turn to my most recent photos to provide inspiration. Have I mentioned I love my camera? I so want to be a great photographer, but that same waning commitment level connected to my writing translates directly to my photography skills. Regardless, I keep snapping pics where ‘ere we go.

It seems the theme of the week is fishing. The fact that I am enjoying the heck out of it is most ironic. Fish freak me out! But for some reason, I don’t mind fishing from the bank of a lake. I guess knowing that I’m going to eat the trout soothes my subconscious by suggesting I have ultimate power over the creature. Conversely, all other fish out there in the world, fish that I will not consume, hold all the power over me. I won’t go in the ocean - even just ankle deep, I won’t swim in lakes, I steer clear of the fish aisle at the Petsmart, and do I even need to mention my aversion to Sea World? Yes, this fishy fear extends to sea mammals; possibly more so. Whales and dolphins drive me to seek psychotherapy. Don’t know why. Do you think there’s a word for whale-phobia? Maybe they can name it after me.


Back to the theme. The itty-bitty city of Mantua, Utah (for some reason it’s pronounced man-a-way) houses a darling little reservoir. For a fun weekend activity two weeks ago, we drove the 35 minutes to the dam and dropped four lines in the water. How’d we do? You decide……

We had such a great time, we returned for more this past weekend. Soooooo many fish!!! These fish were so much fun to catch. The instant they took the bait, you’d see the fish break water before you even realized your line went tight. Then they would fight all the way to shore. It was awesome.

Well, not only was the fishing good, but just getting away from the stress of life for a few hours became somewhat intoxicating. For this reason, three days straight since then Stretch has made his way to the rocky bank of Mantua dam and limited out every time. Not just limited out, threw back five times the limit and still brought home the limit of rainbows. We’ll be sending invites to the fish fry very soon.


To further the theme of the week, I coincidentally stumbled across the show River Monsters on Animal Planet.

I am inexplicably drawn to this show. Typically, all my natural reflexes send me running the other way when aquatic critters skitter across my TV screen. However, whether it’s the soothing tone of the host’s voice, his brilliant European accent, the ruggedly magnificent logo font and design, or maybe all the cat food commercials with cute kitties interspersed throughout the broadcast, there is just something about this show that lures me in (obvious, lame pun intended! Booooooo!). It’s like a train wreck, I can’t look away. The morbid curiosity overrides my irrational phobia and I watch for hours on end as this Jeremy guy catches the most gruesome, enormous, alien looking chondrichthyes and other river dwelling genuses on earth! (Spell check doesn’t like that word, but it’s correct, I checked – you can also use genera as the plural for genus. See even if you’re not entertained, you did learn something new today!)

Oh fantastic, as I’m droning on here, Jeremy’s talking about whales in a lake in Germany. Huh? That's okay, my writing is far more important. Wuh-oh, wait, nevermind, now he has his shirt off........gotta go!



So, in summary: fish are freaky. River Monsters offers a kind of ‘face your fear’ therapy.


There, story told. Itch scratched.


Thank you and goodnight.

Easter Has Been Cancelled

In an effort to defend my crown as Mother of the Year, I have cancelled Easter henceforth and forever.

Don't misunderstand, I am grateful for the resurrection of our Savior. The celebration of this great miracle should and will continue, not just each year on the first Sunday following the full moon that occurs on or after the spring equinox, but each and every day, as it should be.

When I strike Easter from the calendar at my house, it means there will be NONE of the following:
 - egg coloring
 - egg hiding
 - egg finding
 - jelly beans
 - easter grass
 - tacky baskets
 - pastel colors
 - bunny visits
 - early morning sugar rush

Before you pass judgement on me for enacting such an edict, let me make it clear that it was adopted by unanimous consent in our home. Yes, my children were perfecting willing to forego the festivities with the promise that we would allow one bag of Robin's Egg Whoppers. The other stipulation was our genealogy egg would still be completed. Aside from that, EB is off the hook!!!

Ever since I could remember, I have hated Easter. As I revisit the feelings I had as a child on this holiday, a familiar anxiety sets in. As a young girl, I didn't know what I was feeling or how to explain it. As an adult who now knows I suffer from depression coupled with periodic panic attacks, the feelings I remember from the old days can easily be defined. I finally understand why I hate Easter. The first inklings of my unbalanced chemicals began on a spring day as I searched for colored eggs in the backyard. Associations are made quickly as a kid. Subsequent Easters only stood as reminders of those first moments of such an icky feeling. Thankfully, Mr. Pharmacist takes good care of me nowadays, but the effects of that early Easter linger and I've decided this year there's no need for me to endure it.

I can't tell you the relief I feel right now. I'm blogging up a storm whilst countless kitchens are filling with the unmistakable smell of vinegar. As moms everywhere supervise children watching colored pellets bubble and dissolve, I am planning a shopping trip with my girls and maybe some iceskating later on. I'll be happily driving away about the time those moms have to clean up spills and keep wet eggs from rolling off the table.

I'm not ruling out a late night trip to Wallyworld tonight. But it won't be to fight over the last remnants of Easter candy and tacky baskets. It will simply be a routine Saturday night excursion for lack of anything better to do.

The ultimate plan for Easter holidays to come is to pack up the camper trailer and get out of Dodge. I'm hopeful a new family tradition will be born and our children will have beautiful memories of Easter weekend. Maybe they'll even cancel Easter in their own homes when they're grown. I'll be so proud to cheer my girls on as they claim their own crowns as Mother of the Year!

Ode to DC

Top 10 Reasons I Should Quit Drinking Diet Coke

10 - The mountain of cans in the garage I'll never recycle

9 - I would not miss important photo opps of my children because I'm waiting for the foam to go down

8 - I won't be late to work because I have to stop at Maverik

7 - I won't have to hide my stash at girls' camp

6 - There'd be less stains on my carpet from the cats tipping over my leftovers at night

5 - I could keep my hands at the appropriate 10 and 2 position instead of protecting the cup when I turn

4 - I wouldn't have to pee half way through every movie

3 - It won't be the end of the world when my Applebee's switches to a Pepsi joint

2 - The Pepsi/Coke debate wouldn't tear apart our home

1 - Maybe I would hydrate with real water more than once every two weeks

But there's only one good reason why I don't quit. I DON'T WANT TO!!!

Like It Never Happened

For all those wondering, yes, Stretch is home!!! As you can imagine, I haven't felt much like keeping up on the blog. Certainly you can understand there have been far more pressing matters to attend to. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Amazing how after about 5.5 minutes, it felt as though Stretch never left. All the whining I did over the course of 2009 was all for naught. That paradigm shift really took me by surprise. The only way I can describe it is this:  It's kind of like when you are stressing out before Christmas trying to make it to all the parties, enjoy the seasonal activities, buy all the presents, make all the food, and do it all before the stores close on Christmas Eve. Then suddenly, there's a drop dead moment when none of it matters anymore because the stores are closed and Santa is on his way. No matter how much you prepared or how many things you still wish you had done, Christmas has arrived, and all the anxiety and stress of being prepared just stops. There's nothing you can do at that point but just sit back and enjoy, and then you wonder what the heck you were so worried about. That's what it feels like. I spent all year identifying myself as the "wife of a soldier who is gone for a year." Then in an instant, I'm someone else. That other girl is gone and I can't remember why she even existed. I feel foolish for ever having thought it was so hard to be that girl. Just like Christmas morning, you can't remember why you were so stressed to get to Target before it closed the night before.

We have slipped back into family life like old pros. Stretch I'm sure is overwhelmed with the transition, but he masks it well. I'm sure that returning to a normal and mundane routine is comforting after such a long deployment.

So, we move forward now. We can actually make plans without the caveat that a year long interruption is headed our way. It's going to be ineteresting to see how life progresses outside of our usual state of limbo. Well, whatever happens, we're together now, and that's all that really matters.

It's My Day!

Hmmmmmm, another birthday. As a "grown-up" I think that is how I'm supposed to refer to having a birthday. Make it sound like I'm not at all happy about it. But if you know me at all, you know that I love my birthday! I make a big deal about it just like when I was a kid. I mean, come on......presents, flowers, cake. What is so discouraging about that?

Ooooh, the age thing? Ya, I've just chosen to ignore that part. As I said in a previous post, my maturity level peaked years ago. I don't feel anything like a "grown-up". However, that being said, I suppose I should admit there are a few behaviors I find myself engaged in from time to time that would indicate I may have, somewhere along the line, slipped into adulthood.

For example:

• When taking my daughters or even myself shopping for, ummm what's an appropriate term here........underclothing, I have no problem browsing through the merchandise to find the right size or holding it up to see if I think it will fit. This mortifies my children (which I understand. I remember feeling that way as a young'un). I just don't care anymore if I'm discovered by perfect strangers perusing the undies section.
• While looking at items in a store aisle, I don't care to move when someone comes along and seems to want to look at the same items. I was there first; they can wait! I used to feel obligated to move aside as if the approaching shopper were somehow far more important than myself and deserved to be there more than I did.
• I find myself yelling at the kids to turn their music down.
• My kids' teachers at parent-teacher conference don't intimidate me. I'm the authority figure now, not them. They need to listen to me and answer my questions, not the other way around. (Squid & Bear - this applies to me, not you. You still need to listen to and take direction from your teachers!)
• I find SpongeBob has lost his appeal.
• If I find something I like, I don't care what anyone else might think. If I like it, I like it. Exhibit A: My ugly zipper purse. Clearly I don't care what anyone thinks, or I definitely wouldn't carry this around.

As I look around and take inventory of my life as it is today, I really can't be discouraged at all. I am living the dream! When I was 10ish, I remember imagining what my life would look like when I was this very age. I remember envisioning myself married with children, living in a cute little suburban neighborhood, and working in a job where I could organize papers and use machines with lots of buttons. Well, I have all those things. Sure, I have other ambitions in life now. But everything that really matters in life has already come my way. Any future successes at this point are icing on the cake!

So there it is, all in writing: how I feel about life as I begin being 35. Just in case I hit a low point somewhere down the road, I can read this and remind myself that I don't have it so bad.

My Pitch Against Government Run Health Care

It's absurd to me that the government thinks they can do a better job of running health care than the private sector can. Actually, no, it's not absurd that they think that; of course they think that. They think they are the all supreme masters of the universe. What is unfathomable is imagining what health care will become if this stinking reform bill becomes law.
Now, understand, the following tirade comes not from a seasoned military insurance beneficiary. My blanket remarks toward an entire federal system come from only two brief, one year stints with Tri-Care.

To begin with, there's not one single entity which knows how the entire system works. You can't just call up "customer service" and get a step by step explanation of how to obtain the insurance, much less how to receive medical services. Staff at one phone number knows just enough to make you think you have all the information, when in reality, it's the tip of the iceburg. Being armed with what you assume is a full knowledge arsenal, you head off to the clinic on (insert military installation name here).

If you paid attention to the mail, you would by now know who your Primary Care Manager is. Oh, you don't now what that is? Well, you will have to revisit the phone tree approach to service and get a PCM assigned right away. After all, your assigned PCM is the gatekeeper to your entire physical/psychological well being. You cannot have any services without this guy/gal's authorization. However, the "system" can automatically bump you to a new PCM without your knowledge as they see fit. So don't get attached to a particular doctor, because you may soon have to part ways. Nothing is more heartwarming than retelling your entire medical history to the new PCM so they can pick up where your last doctor left off.

On occassion, you may have what you consider to be a serious condition which requires, in your non-educated, unprofessional opinion, immediate attention. Well, good luck with that. You'll still need a referral. Even if you call to get a referral to an urgent care off-base, they sucker you into waiting until the next available appointment with your doctor, because "it costs them too much" to have you go to an urgent care. Once at the doctor's office, you're then told that the custom medical equipment you need isn't covered on Tri-Care. Go buy it yourself. Thanks.

But, here's a little trick. Go to the ER at a hospital, take up their time and resources for a non-emergency, but kind of serious issue, and the PCM will have to authorize it after the fact. Sneaky, sneaky and not even close to cost effective for the system.

Once you have experienced the joys of all of the above, it's time to fill your prescriptions. It's great fun to get free drugs! Wait, not so quick. First you must wait for the doctor to send the Rx through the fancy computer. Once your Rx actually arrives at the pharmacy, you have to do what is called "activating" your prescription. It sounds like some kind of missionary effort. Now you are ready to wait for the pharmacy to fill it. Yay! Just wait for your name to pop up on the giant flat screen (I'm sure it's the taxpayers-didn't-really-pay-for-it economy model) and then you can go wait in line again to receive the goods. It may behoove you to note at this time that at each check point along the way, from signing in at reception, to getting labwork, to Rx activaton, and then finally pick-up, you will be asked to present your ID and "yellow card", which is the magical key that accesses top secret treasures (even though this card is handwritten and contains the same darn information as the computer system they use when they plug in your ID info.)

Are you tired yet? I know, this story is way too long and not noteworthy in the least. Now you understand how the government system will make you feel. Now imagine that you have to pay for this fine program. No, wait, not just pay for it, but be required to purchase it and pay for it under the penalty of law.

Should there be any doubt regarding the ridiculousness of this all, may I submit Exhibit A:  a sign posted at the pharmacy with instructions on how to . . . wait for it, wait for it................ How To Wait in Line. No, I'm not kidding.


I'm telling you, if this catches on, I think I'm going to start taking the fam to the vet with the cats for our continued health care. I'm sure it would be an upgrade.