It's true. I’ve decided to lift my self-imposed blog ban. In case you haven’t heard my philosophy, let me explain. You see, blogging often seems to be just a big contest. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them. “My family is so fabulous. I have the most attentive, perfect husband, the cutest kids and the most darling wreath on the door. I just couldn’t be happier!”
Blech!
Long before anyone began blogging, this sort of nonsense was saved up for once a year when the Christmas letter was the primary mode of boasting about our wonderfulness. I admit I penned a few of those letters during our early years before reality set in. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t feel good about ourselves—just maybe not embellish SO much that the in-laws are obliged to say: “Well look at that. Their marriage just might work out after all.” Ya know what I mean? Whether you do or you don’t, let me apologize right here and now. Reading some of our past Christmas letters even make
me want to throw up. There. I said it. Let’s move on.
In this spirit, this blog is devoted to all things non-precious, like when Lady May blurted out in public, “Mom, what does kiss my @$$ mean?” Or maybe the time I
accidentally told Sir William that I had a back up just in case he didn’t make it to the Celestial Kingdom. (I mean it! Seriously gonna be sealed to Captain Moroni—but only as a back up). Or how I disagree with Oprah and all of LDS America, because I think “The Secret” is against The Plan of Salvation (except for how it worked at Disneyland when I visualized both my kids being chosen for the Jedi Training Academy). While I cannot promise there won’t be an occasional sweet story about the chickadees, I do pledge to snap out of it quickly. A healthy dose of our reality, rather than an overdose of our healthy ego—that’s the objective here.
Well, that’s partially the objective anyway. (See there, only two paragraphs in and I’ve already been less than truthful! What is with these things anyway??) There are actually two objectives. A few weeks back, I stumbled across a blog that had a profound affect on my decision to leap into the blogosphere. It was a reminder that life is fragile. The author of the blog was in a tragic accident and her dialogues have become a remarkable gift to her family. Reading them make me laugh and cry (and envy her a little). Most of all, they inspire me to become better at documenting our milestones and mayhem. Like this lovely woman, I want to leave my children with glimpses of who I was if anything ever happened to me--back up eternal companion and all!
Turns out an Elf actually was making Lady May and her brother a Nintendo DS for Christmas. "Santa ROCKS!" is all we've heard for the last 24 hours. Considering the kids were up before 5am on Christmas morning, we agree...
The kids have had a bad case of “The Gimmes” this Christmas. The Squire started asking us to “tell Santa -- or anyone in the family” what he’s been wanting for months now, and everything on the list had a BIG price tag. Lady May even asked in her letter to Santa if an Elf was already making her Nintendo DS. Sounds a bit too confident, don’t ya think? They needed a way to refocus, so this year we gave them opportunities to earn money and buy their own gifts for others. They worked hard and both got to go on a shopping excursion with Dad. When The Squire returned from the store, I asked “So how was it?” After a long pause, he responded “EXPENSIVE!”
Sister Smith devises a plan to avoid being called as Relief Society President
Over the summer our family slipped away for a mini vacation at a local resort. The amenities were fantastic, but we didn’t go for spa treatments or rejuvenation. It was the water park, voted in the top 10 by the Travel Channel, that drew us to the property. We enjoyed days in the sun, sipping frosty drinks by the pool, floating down the lazy river with newly hatched ducklings, riding the waves in the gigantic wave pool, and the complimentary colon cleanse. Wait! Back up. Did you read that right? Ah, now there’s a story.
The polls are closed. All FOUR votes have been tallied and the results show the majority of you agree the little girl in the vintage photo bears a remarkable likeness to Lady May. That's right, four WHOLE votes. I know I should be happy, it's more than McPalin got. They might have pulled through if more had taken the time to vote. It's a privilege you know. The little girl in the photo was born in an age where women weren't allowed to vote. While I doubt she chained herself to any courthouse doors during the Suffrage movement, I'm sure she appreciated the right to vote when the Constitution was amended in 1920. This little girl is my great grandmother Laura.
Can you guess from the speedometer where we went last weekend? We heard they don’t really care if you obey the speed limits in Mexico so Sir William fulfilled a dream. Just kidding! The car was programmed for kilometers people! We didn’t know if they enforce the big red octagon ALTO signs either. We did run few of those just to see what would happen (at least that was Sir William’s excuse). Other than my blood pressure rising, nothing happened. Well, I can’t say nothing happened. I did discover on the trip south that Sir William’s other woman is bilingual. Oops! Did I say too much? Well, since the cat is out of the bag let me tell you about Sara--his Blackberry. Yes, she has a name. I got tired of calling her “that thing” (as in “put that thing away” or “that thing is ringing again”). So I named her. Sara and Sir William have a great relationship, and why wouldn’t they? They spend a lot of time together, she’s always there for him with helpful information and she requires nothing in return. So on top of all this perfection, to discover she provides driving directions in flawless Spanish is just about more than I can take. He asks me to navigate and we wind up lost and in an argument. He asks her for directions and she calmly advises in a foreign language! I can’t compete and I’m starting to get a complex.
