A Conversation

The conversation at our house this morning circled around food. Before I even made it out of my bathroom, my daughter asked if she could have some certain cookies for her lunch.

"Grab an apple," I said.

"But I already have a yogurt and that has fruit in it."

"So?"

"That's like having two fruits."

"And the problem is...?"

She went to the pantry and dug out a container of apple sauce, which had fermented. Thankfully we tested it before she got to school.

"There's a crisper drawer full of real apples," I suggested. She rolled her eyes at me.

A few minutes later, my son said, "Mom, I need a snack for my lunch." I repeated what I had told his sister. "But I already have blueberries," was his reply.

"So?" I know I'm asking for it when I say that.

"So NOBODY ever takes two fruits in their lunch. EVERYBODY takes at least two snacks - and you're telling me I can't even have ONE?"

My reply: "First of all, you're not Donald Trump, so quit speaking in superlatives. Second of all, fruit IS a snack. What kind of snacks does EVERYONE have?"

"Fruit roll-ups, fruit by the foot, fruit snacks, chips..."

I couldn't resist. "How sad for them. There is a fridge full of REAL fruit in this house. Aren't you lucky? And when you say 'snack' you mean junk food. So ask me for junk food."

"But if I ask for junk food, you'll say NO!"

"I think you're getting it, kid."

He rolled his eyes at me and opted for a cherry yogurt.

"Why don't you ever let us have junk food?" He asked in that very whiny, spoiled-brat kind of voice that gives me immediate desires to take away all happiness forever.

"I believe you enjoyed both jolly ranchers and a fireball after school yesterday. And what about that bowl of ice cream after dinner? You get plenty without me actually giving it to you on purpose. I want you to grow up and have a long, healthy life, even if it means griping at me forever."

A pouty look was all I got in response.

"If you want to grow up and be a famous scientist/inventor, you need a good, healthy, strong brain, and fruit by the foot is not the answer."

Being the typical mom that I am, I couldn't resist one parting shot before I left for work.

"I don't think Einstein ate a single Fruit by the Foot EVER!"

My Middle School Initiation

I'm old and I'm cheap. But that's okay.

A little background: my daughter, who is about to turn twelve, has had a favorite store for the last 2-3 years called Justice. I can't stand it. Their clothes are expensive, for the most part ugly, and poor quality.

Last week, she came home from school and announced, "I think I'm pretty much over Justice." I breathed a small sigh of relief. "I want to start shopping at Aeropostale."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, Sophie's mom took her shopping there, and she got a ton of cute stuff!"

Thank you, Sophie's Mom, for what follows.

Yesterday, I was out and about, when I decided to pop into Aeropostale and check things out. I thought I'd do a little birthday shopping. I found "a ton of cute stuff," all from the clearance racks. I mean, why would I buy a $24 yellow polo when I could buy one in a slightly different shade of yellow for $4?

So I took my picks up to the register, where the sales clerks, who were half my age and who had half my wisdom, proceeded to ring me out. We chatted, and I learned that this was a favorite store of many middle-schoolers. "Yeah," said Clerk 1, "lots of middle-school kids shop here, but it's not a great place for moms like you to buy clothes." As if I would want to wear shorts that were made of nothing more than a waist band and a pocket (nor would I want my daughter to wear them - but that's another post).

Clerk #2 whispered to me, "It's also a great place for CHEAP people to shop."

Oh just wait girls.

Evolution of a Mood

I woke up in a ridiculously bad mood today.
Can you guess why?


I was very well tempted to call in sick to work. I am sick of this weather. But I didn't. Instead I went to work and pretended to be happy for other people's children. As the snow pelted my face during recess duty, I thought of ways to lift my spirits. Historically, I turn to one of two things for therapeutic purposes: cleaning or cooking. Today I opted for cooking. Set to music. And then I cleaned the kitchen. I think it worked.

Could there BE a better song to cheer you up on a snowy day at the end of April?


Don't fresh veggies look pretty when they're being sauteed? The colors remind me of a beach towel.


And then I ended up with something that looked like a Hawaiian sunset. (I've never been to Hawaii, so I'm just assuming here).


Of course a hot bowl of pasta with homemade sauce is just the thing to warm you up when it's cold outside.


Even the little flowers on the window sill started to perk up.

And so did I.

Ready, Set, Go

My husband gave me a watch for Christmas. I love watches. The watch he gave me is a designer watch. It's soooo pretty. It's gold and shiny and it has lots of pretty little dials. So this watch got me to thinking. I'm not someone who usually cares about designer-type, fancy-schmancy things. I'm just as happy with a ten-dollar watch from Target as I am with the one currently on my wrist. I know people say things like that all the time, but I really mean it. I was completely shocked and awe-struck at this fine gift. Dan simply said, "you deserve it." I guess that's the part that got me thinking. I do deserve certain things life. Don't we all? At the very least, I deserve to go after the things I want. And the thing I really want is to write books. So I have been writing and revising, editing and submitting. I've heard back from two publishers, both of whom said something to the effect of, we like it, we think you're publishable, it's just not for us at this time. And so the hunt continues. But that's okay. It's nice to be told by multiple publishers that I am publishable. It would be nicer to be told they would like to publish me, but that will happen eventually. Hopefully soon. So I signed up for a conference. A big one. I'm excited. I know of a few writers who got their breaks as a result of this conference. One of them is teaching the class I will be attending. So look out Book Industry. I'm coming after YOU!

And We're Back

I heard once that fall is a fickle season. If that's true, then what the heck does that make spring?
Here's what we woke up to today. Thankfully, Dan is currently in the kitchen making his famous Oh Boy! Waffles and buttermilk syrup. I don't drink, so I have to drown my sorrows somehow.

Oh Happy Day!

Today we did something we haven't been able to do in months. We went to the park! It was 70 degrees outside! Nevermind that it is raining and thundering right now; we went to the park! We played catch and swung on the swings. Today is the springiest spring day yet... We're all giddy with delight!

Swiss Miss

March was truly one of the busiest months for me that I can remember in a long time. I've had busy days, busy weeks, but a busy month? This is one fool who is glad that it's April 1st.

One of the biggest contributing factors to my busy-ness was a little thing called the Swiss Miss Pageant. The first settlers of Midway were Swiss immigrants, and their descendants are mighty proud of that fact. Many of the houses here (including the one I live in) are based on Swiss-themed architecture. The bell tower at the local resort plays Edelweiss* at 4:00 every day in the summer. We also have Swiss Days, a two-day festival before Labor Day that causes the entire state of Utah to descend upon our tiny town. And every year in March, there's the Swiss Miss Pageant. Local girls, age 9-13 can try out, and if so crowned, five of them become Midway's ambassadors for the year. My daughter was so crowned. And my year just got a whole lot busier.

But I am bursting at the seams for this kid. She's a good one. She came home two months ago and said, "I think I want to try out for Swiss Miss." I am sooooo NOT a pageant person. But she dedicated herself to it, practiced a piano piece for the talent number, and kept a positive attitude the entire time. The day after winning the pageant, trophy in hand, she said, "I'm a little nervous about seeing my friends at church. I don't want them to feel bad because they didn't get in." I told her that as long as she left the trophy at home, I didn't think she had anything to worry about.

Three days after winning the pageant, she played an original composition on the piano at her great-grandmother's funeral. I had the vantage point of being able to see everybody's faces as she played. There are times when I have been proud of her, but that one takes the cake.

Five days after winning the pageant, she brought home a straight-A report card.

I know. I know. Nobody likes to hear someone go on and on about how wonderful their children are. But sometimes, a mom's gotta brag.

*Yes, I am aware that Edelweiss is the AUSTRIAN national flower (but nobody in Midway seems to care).