Ancient History

Dear sweet Lady May. She’s a peach, that one. We recently had a conversation that went something like this:

Mom, were you born around the same time as Benjamin Franklin?
Nope, he’s a lot older than I am honey.
How about when there were dinosaurs? Were you around then?
Ummmm….no. They’re even older than Benjamin Franklin.
Well, how about this song on the radio (The Beatles)? Did they play it at your prom?

Sweet, unfortunate, misguided child. I’m wondering what it is I'm doing to give her the impression:

I'm older than dirt?!

Hellooooo! I’m the mom who hits the pool with them any chance I get. The one who sacrifices great hair just to ride roller coasters, water slides, and boogie boards. The hip chick who outdances them at Hannah Montana Spotlight World Tour for Wii, and hogs the Whack-a-Mole at Chuck E. Cheese just to earn the most tickets. The mother of the year who downloads and sings all songs ever played by Radio Disney (which by the way, has absolutely nothing to do with a mild crush on the Jonas Brothers and/or Zac Efron).

For posterity’s sake, I’d like to make the following points:

I was NOT born before the invention of electricity…though it was before microwave ovens, the Internet, and humongous flower headbands to distinguish between baby girls and baby boys.

Dinosaurs had long been extinct by the time I came along. Sadly, ugly wallpaper had not completely died out.


John Lennon was dead before ANY of my high school proms; however, big hair and big sleeves were alive and well!


We had a great time at the prom--Mark, me, Chicago, and my AquaNet do. Ahhhhhh, the smell of fine solid particles suspended in gas takes me back to the good old days when T-rexes roamed the earth. Turn up the volume and sing it loud people...

You’re the meaning in my life, you’re the in”spray”tion.

Eight is Great!

When a girl turns 8 she…

Makes cake selections from the bakery based entirely on

the toy lodged in the frosting.

Is dragged behind a boat just for the fun of it.

Laughs at her mother’s attempt to recapture her youth.

Has holes punched in her ears.

Discovers diamonds really ARE a girl’s best friend.

That's OUR sparkling jewel!

Picture Tag

The rules:
1. Go to your documents/pictures
2. Go to your 6th folder
3. Go to your 6th picture
4. Post it, and blog about it
5. Tag 6 people to do the same
(Raejean, Rusty, Stephanie, Heather, Liz, Ericka--tag, you're it!)

The Squire on the riding mower at the Peterson Plantation

Summer 2007

Mow Memories

What did the monkey say when he got his tail caught in the lawn mower? It won't be long now!

If this mower could talk, what stories it would share! It might tell and retell the same jokes and stories just as it's owner did. It would probably say it got a lot of use mowing 1.5 acres twice a week. It could report the last time it was ridden by it's 92 year-old owner was the day before a heart attack would end his life. The owner, my grandpa, took great pride in his property and mowed the equivalent of 3 acres every week until the day before he died!

We believe that, and the overconsumption of blueberry pie, contributed to his longevity. (Sort of the same way I'm counting on the antioxidants in chocolate bars to extend my life).

Grandpa was one of a kind; always up at the crack of dawn reading the paper on the porch in his green rocker. He was often found zooming up and down the slopes of his enormous yard on the riding mower or maintaining relationships with hundreds of random friends he'd met at [insert any place in any country here]. He loved sports. He held season tickets for BYU football and made an annual pilgrimage to spring training baseball games. No matter where he was, he ended each day with an episode of Lawrence Welk. Big Band was a religion--the LOUDER the better! At home, he'd retire again to the rockers on the porch and watch the moon rise over the mountain.

Those cool evenings rocking on the porch, breathing earthy mountain air while listening to the sounds of crickets chirping, will forever remain my favorite memory of grandpa's place. When he died, I inherited the green rockers. They sit on my back porch now. Some days when the breeze blows, they rock on their own and it's easy to imagine grandpa there just itchin' to cut our grass.

Lessons Learned

Yesterday was my 10th Mother's Day. A decade of motherhood has taught me a thing or two:

If you take a pad of Post-it's to church, you're likely to end up with a 'kick me' sign on your back.

A unibrow can develop before one turns 8.


Waxing a 7 year-old's unibrow isn't as traumatic as it sounds.

It takes 1.5 minutes to cut your own bangs AND hide the evidence; 2 hours and 20 minutes for anyone to notice, and 17 months to grow them out.

Flushing a dead goldfish only prompts weird questions later on when a family member dies.

Strawberry and carrot kabobs with a side of Ranch dressing is perfectly acceptable for breakfast in bed on Mother's Day.

It is possible to be afraid of your own Halloween costume.

If you're at a loss for words...

[you'll want to pause the music player for this]

FAKE YOUR OWN DEATH!

But, the most important thing I've come to know is:

I have really great kids!

WHY?

That's a question we get a lot around here. The Squire has an inquiring mind. He will rattle off a thousand questions a day to which he fully expects answers for. If you tell him you don’t know, he’ll reword it and throw the same question back into the mix within a few minutes. (Yeah, we’re pretty sure he’s going to be an attorney.) We know he’s bright and questioning helps him to learn—but honestly, is it necessary to know things like why chickens don’t have ears?

My favorite question came last year when he asked: Besides prayer, how do you get a baby? I’m still not sure where he learned prayer was a necessary component for ‘getting’ a baby, but I’m not going to argue with it. Interestingly, Lady May discovered the answer to his question at the zoo last month. While visiting the monkey habitat, she noticed two of them mating. For a moment I thought I was going to have to whip out my talk about "prayer" until she exclaimed:

Look! He’s checking her for cooties!



Apparently prayer and cooties is all it takes to get a baby these days...just PLEASE don’t ask me why.