Drama queen

You'll never guess which one of my daughters thought this was funny.

She laughed and laughed.

Should I be concerned?

Tis' the Season..

Dear M&M Research and Marketing Department,

You started a candy revolution with these little morsels.

You improved on perfection when you added nuts.
I was sure you had reached Mt. Everest with these babies.

You have done a remarkable job.

You have brought joy and happiness to the world.

Your product is recognized world-wide.

We all believe you. We buy your little treats in every color,

on every holiday. People put their faces on your candy.

Children have learned the letter m from you.

You have done your duty. We all love you.

So please....

for Pete's sake....
STOP!!

For the love of flabby armed mothers everywhere,

stop making irresistable new ways for me to get fat.

Sincerely,

{m}indy.

Uhm..you know....oh what's it called?

So lately, I have been having

way too many of these moments.

It's lucky I'm good at Charades.

The one where I'm humbled.

So this morning I woke up to get ready for church. I looked outside and saw the several new inches of fresh, heavy snow. My shoulders fell a little and I just wanted to get back into my warm bed. The thought of getting my five little ones ready and out the door by 8:55 a.m. was daunting.

I was having an unusually bad hair day. I didn't love my outfit. Olivia didn't like how I did her hair and Ethan didn't like my breakfast choice of cold cereal. Lindsay couldn't find her other dress boot and Tyson would not let Makenna get him dressed. I was frustrated and half thought to myself...would anyone even notice if we just stayed home?

Anyway, we got it all together and managed to get to our bench with a few minutes to spare. (even though I got snow in my shoe and now my toes were cold.)

As I sat there trying to keep the kids noise level at a dull roar, I heard a plunk and then a dragging noise. Again, and then again. I turned around to see a beautiful woman with silver hair pushing her walker down the aisle. She wore a pretty red coat and comfy shoes over her nude colored hosiery. She was assisted by another white haired beauty and came to sit in the row in front of us. I found out that these ladies were the speaker's mother and grandmother.

She was 96 years old.

As I sat behind her and looked at her newly curled hair and noticed her wrinkled hands, I wondered what efforts she had put forth to get ready for this special day. She had to drive in that horrible snow and then get from the car to the building using a walker.

I was instantly overcome with gratitude for the opportunity I had to be there at church to worship the Savior and feel of the spirit. My hair didn't seem as bad and I didn't feel quite as frumpy as I had before. I thought of all the people in the world who walk for miles to get to church. People who go to church alone without any family. People who don't even know about Jesus Christ. I was sufficiently humbled and I'm so grateful for the sweet little stranger who strengthened my testimony simply by making the decision to get out of her warm bed.

What a bunch of goofs!

The only way I can get a shot like this....

is to promise the opportunity for a shot like this....

It's a win/win for me.

I'm a voter, he's a voter, wouldn't ya like to be a voter too

So I was pretty excited to go vote this year.
I tried to go early in the day before people got off work so I wouldn't have to wait in line.
Well, if you know me, you know that I was there at 5:15...standing in line.
As I stood there in the line watching people vote, I couldn't help but get a smidge emotional.
I know, that's silly.
But I just couldn't help it.
It all started with the little old man leaning on his cane while he voted. His hands were so shaky that he may have inadvertantly voted for the other guy. But he was there...voting.
I got looking around at the people that had taken the time to come and let their voice be heard.
If I were brave (which I am not)
I would have taken out my camera and snapped a shot (which I didn't).
But if I had, it would have looked something like this.
The skinny kid with big glasses who I'm sure was casting his first vote ever stood behind a guy in a suit and really expensive shoes.
Another guy with skin like leather walked past on his way to leave. With every step he took, a small billow of dust or concrete mix or something puffed out of his work boots.
A young mother rummaged through her purse looking for something to shush her bored toddler.
A not so young mother right behind her freely dispensed with unsolicited advice.
A woman in fancy clothes stood next to a lady in sweats as they picked the candidates they thought would do the best job...I wondered if they were the same candidates?
And finally, the man standing in front of me wore a work shirt with his name on it.
He smelled like motor oil.
The woman behind me wore a lovely sweater vest and smelled like butterscotch cookies.
Such different people all doing the same thing.
Different incomes, different jobs, different houses, different beliefs.
But there we were. Standing in line.
How lucky are we to pick our leaders?
Sure, they may not be perfect and sometimes they're just downright stupid...but we get to pick em'.
No socialist dictator or ruling monarchy chooses. We do. It's downright cool actually.
I hear people whine all the time about the state of things and then find out they didn't vote.
Whatever. I mean, come on! A lot of people fought and died so we could.
I was just really proud of my little group of fellow voters. Especially the guy I saw walk in with a cast on his leg.
Anyhoo, I'm glad I got to vote. Thanks mom for making me a sentimental, patriotic sap.
God Bless America. Stars and Stripes forever and Don't Tread on Me. For the People and all those other ones.

p.s. Who was the guy that thought up the donkey and the elephant? It couldn't have been something a little cooler? A Jaguar and a Lion or... something?

oh, and p.s.s. Lady behind me that smelled like butterscotch, if you're blogging about standing in line behind me, will you please say that I smelled like Tahitian coconuts? Thank you.

Look who's the cool girl now!!

Dear Fall,

Way to get in there and throw your weight around.

I have thoroughly enjoyed your extended visit this year.

I still have flowers like this blooming in my front yard.

Kudos to you for making your presence known.

We all like you....a lot.

Love,

Mindy

Don't Kill the Messenger!!

Okay, so we all know how I feel about Fall. I wrote about it here.

Poor Fall. It's the season that I hate to love.

Fall is absolutely lovely. It is such a beautiful season and has so much to offer.

The need for a jacket in the morning, only to ditch it on the walk home from school.

That crunch as you walk over those fallen leaves. I love pumpkins and Hot Cider and those stinking candy corns. (I may or may not eat full bags in one sitting...stop judging).

I remember so well planning for weeks what I would be for Halloween.

Fall is lovely. Really it is. It's what comes after Fall that disheartens me.

I know, I know....it's not Fall's fault. It's just doing it's job.

Fall is like the cop who knocks on your door at 2a.m. when your teenager is after curfew. You go to the door...you can see the lights flashing in your driveway. You see your teen standing beside the officer. This could be the most handsome, kind officer you've ever met

but you know what's coming. And you know it's not good.

Fall is that 'you've been served' guy. He looks all nice and friendly and then

Bam!! You've been served. (Just so you know, Heidi Klum is serious about those restraining order threats.)

Fall is that cute waiter at a new restaraunt you've been wanting to try.

He's all charming and flirty (even though you are fully aware that you are old and that he just wants a good tip)

and then he tells you they don't serve Dr. Pepper.

It's the super nice nurse with great hair at your OB/GYN office. She's all smiles until she hands you that...that paper napkin of cover up. (and why are those exam rooms so blasted cold?)

They are all the bearers of bad news.

Fall is a bad news bearer.

It's not Fall's fault.

It's just an unfortunate set of circumstances that she is wedged inbetween the most glorious season and the most grotesque season.

Maybe there should be a post fall/pre winter season.

We could call it "Oh Crap! Here it comes!' I think Hallmark would make a fortune.

The seasons are just a John Hughes 80's movie really.
Spring is shiny and new and makes people feel good. Spring is the peppy cheerleader of the seasons. Everyone likes Spring.
Summer is the Homecoming Queen. She's glitzy and gets a lot of attention. All the other seasons secretly want to be her. Everyone likes her because she's pretty.
Fall is that quiet art girl with the natural beauty. She is a very deep thinker and is very witty but she doesn't say much so she gets looked over most of the time. (this part could also be played by John Cusak)
Winter is that jerky football player who's so obsessed with himself that he teases Fall and causes her to retreat back to her art studio to be alone with her thoughts.
Come on Fall!! Be tougher. Don't let Winter bully you from the main hall. You deserve to eat lunch with the cool kids too. Hang out for a while. Show him that you've got something to say.
You could rock a tiara or a pom pom. And I bet you'd get the coolest song on the soundtrack too.
Okay, I'm done ranting about my hate of all things cold and wintry and the lovely season that precedes all cold and wintry things.
That is all.

The simple things

There's nothing like a good bowl of ice cream.

This one would eat ice cream every day if I let him.

Wouldn't that be just lovely?

Anticipation

So my sweet 9 year old Makenna found an old roll of film in a box the other day.
She held it up and with the utmost sincerity asked, "Mom, what the heck is this?"
I tried to explain it and then finally just went and got the memory card out of the digital camera and she knew what I was talking about.

Uhm....holy cow!!

I remember my first camera. I was maybe 14 and I got it for Christmas. I felt very grown up.
I recall learning carefully how to load the film into the camera. I also learned (by mistake) that you must not open the camera until the entire roll of film has been used. I took my little camera with me everywhere. But I only took it out for special occasions because you know, it only had 24 exposures. (sometimes you even squeezed 25 out of it.) It usually took me about a month to fill up the roll. (I didn't want to waste any of those precious exposures on just anyone or anything). Sometimes it would be so long that I would actually forget what was at the beginning of the roll.
Anyhoo, then you would take the roll of film to the store where you would fill out an envelope with your info on it. You would carefully slide the film into the envelope, seal it up and put it in the slot. Then you would wait 7 days while it was sent out to be developed at some other location. Finally, you would pedal on up to the store to retreive your photos. You'd hand over your hard earned baby-sitting cash and then you would start to undo the package even before you were out of the store. You would eagarly flip through the glossy prints only to be dissapointed that the picture you sneakily took of that cute boy you liked was out of focus. Oh man, the one of you and your best friends at Lagoon has half of your heads cut off. And that one where your hair was really cute that day and you looked super skinny?......yep, your eyes were closed.
And then there was that blasted red eye. Future generations will probably come to the conclusion that most people who lived during the last half of the 20th century were possessed by demons and surrounded by some hazy darkness.
And then, if you had to make a copy of a picture...yeah, you had to search through all of the negatives until you found it and then had to go and repeat the process all over again...and pay for it again.
Enter the Digital camera.
My four year old not only knows how to take a picture, he can look at it instantly and edit. He decides right then and there if he should delete it. He can tell if Daddy was looking off instead of at the camera. He knows immediately if Lindsay's eyes are closed. He can ask Olivia to smile instead of make a goofy face. He can take as many shots of the same pose as he wants. He is armed with a memory card. And then you take it to your computer, download, edit, enlarge, and print. You can even send a copy off to Grandma. It's relatively instant.
"Oh, you have to have an 'I am Special' poster?....tomorrow morning? No sweat. Let's head to the office and print off your life in 5 minutes."
No waiting.
But also no anticipation.

I vividly remember waiting in line for 20 minutes to buy tickets to Jurassic Park. Then we waited another hour and a half in line before it even started so we didn't end up on the front row with a headache and vertigo.
Now you can buy your movie tickets in your pajamas, 3 weeks before it even comes out. You show up 2 minutes before it starts and find your seat. It's convenient with 5 kids that's for sure.
We can order something and have it shipped to our home OVERNIGHT.
That's like...mind-boggling when you really think about it. Things used to take weeks or months.
It's all very convenient and fast and gives us more time to hurry up and quickly do other things.
The last time I was getting my oil changed, (at Wal-Mart...don't tell Greg.) the guy in front of me was like freaking out that it was going to take them 20 minutes to change the oil in his car.
"I can't believe it takes that long." And he threw himself into a chair and pulled out his phone and laptop and spent his time in the virtual world.
I sat in my chair and watched a little 70ish year old couple wander aimlessly around the windshield wipers and floor mats and giggled at the mental picture of Greg and I shopping for car accessories in 40 years.
I flipped through a golf magazine and hoped that Ethan or Tyson would grow up to be a professional golfer. (Lots of money, low risk of injury...good choice). I watched Tyson study two ants crawl around on the floor, (I know, gross). He was fascinated.
Now I'm not implying that my time was spent more wisely than the other guy's. I like my electronic life as much as anyone. I just enjoyed my stay at Wal-Lube a little more I think.
So my question is this.
Are we losing the joy of anticipation? The excitement of waiting for something. The appreciation that comes after receiving. The simple virtue of patience.
Is it so wrong to slow down and just....*gasp* wait?
I guess it's a good thing we still have Christmas and the first day of school right?
Oh, and the Tooth Fairy...she's always good for some excitement.
(when she shows up. We have a crappy Tooth Fairy.
She has severe memory loss, she's totally inconsistent and she's kind of a cheapskate.)

I'm suffering from "BHTB Syndrome"...help!!

It is a very real and serious syndrome. It is a silent syndrome. Full of stereotypes and judgement. People don't like to talk about it.

I have seen friends and family suffer. The effects from this condition last for years and whole families become victims of BHTB. I have been afraid of becoming a victim for some time and unfortunately my fears are becoming reality.

Professionals are concerned that they are nowhere near finding a treatment let alone a cure for this syndrome.

I therefore, am taking it upon myself to make people aware of this condition and supporting me in my cause.

What is BHTB Syndrome?

"But He's The Baby".

The symptoms are subtle at first but quickly become easily recognizable.

He is still called the "baby" at 2 years old.

He simply points and grunts at an object and no less than 3 people rush to bring it to him.

You no longer hear that annoying whine or cry. You have simply learned to tune it out even though people in the same room would like to put him outside with the dog.

Rules that were strictly enforced with older siblings are either ignored or simply forgotten.

A smile or pout provides "the baby" with whatever he wants.

When the "baby" gets hurt it is always someone else's fault.

He stays up much later than older siblings and gets to sleep with mom and dad.

You find yourself absent-mindedly letting him drink from your glass of Dr. Pepper without even realizing that he's doing it.........and then let him do it again 5 minutes later.

Time-outs last about 5 1/2 seconds.

"No" really means.."keep asking me and eventually I'll give in".

Please...I need your help! The closest I've ever come to knowing a celebrity is dating a guy who once met Carrot Top in an airport bathroom so this is a grass roots effort. There will be no Celebrity Telethons hogging all the channels.

We must inform mothers everywhere. This an important issue. If it continues to go unaddressed, we will all suffer. We will be surrounded by spoiled, entitled, "give me what I want" adults. We must act now!!

Oh, I have to go...the "baby" needs me.

Uhm....seriously?

Man sells pot to pay for police academy
August 24th, 2010 @ 10:40am
By Randall Jeppesen
OREM -- A man who says he was just trying to save up the money for the police academy is now looking at the other side of the justice system because of what he's accused of doing to get the cash.
According to the Daily Herald, police got a search warrant to check up on the activities of Marcos Antonio Ramirez of Orem after reports surfaced he had been selling drugs. Officers found he had marijuana, a scale, a stolen gun and drug paraphernalia.
Ramirez admitted to knowing the gun was stolen and that he was selling the drugs, but the reason he gave was a little unique.
The Daily Herald reports Ramirez told officers he had been selling pot for five months to pay for the police academy.
Police arrested Ramirez on suspicion of possession with intent to distribute, possession of a stolen firearm, possession of drug paraphernalia and possession of a controlled substance.
E-mail: rjeppesen@ksl.com

This makes perfect sense right?
You know, like the woman who became a prostitute to pay for her wedding
or the guy that sold child pornography to pay for his elementary education degree.

Satan makes it so easy for us humans to rationalize decisions.
I don't think anyone wakes up in the morning and says, "I think I'll make a really bad life choice today that will effect not only me but those around me."
Satan is much more subtle than that.
He's crafty. (and not in the glue-gun, decoupage kind of way)
He makes things that are bad look not so bad (that movie was great except for a couple of parts)
He makes things that are good look nerdy or old fashioned.
He's a stinker.
We all make small everyday decisions that effect our entire lives.
My parents used to be voluntary clergy out at the prison. I remember the stories they would tell of the men and women they worked with.
Most of them would not be experiencing those heartbreaks if they had only made a few small choices a little differently. "If I hadn't listened to that friend", "if I hadn't gotten into his car", "if only I had not gone to that place"...
little choices.

One of my greatest worries is that my children will make one or two bad choices that will lead to a future heartbreak. That they will be influenced and let other people make choices for them. That I will have failed as a mother.
This is fear. This is Satan. This is trickery.
One of my greatest expectactions is that my children will remember what they have been taught. That they will have the confindence to stand up for what they know is right. That they will be leaders and will influence others to make good choices.
This is faith. This is a loving God. This is hope.

I know that my children will make mistakes and bad choices. We all do. It's part of the learning process. I only hope that they will learn from those mistakes, that they will recognize the tricks of Satan and that they will embrace the power of Jesus Christ.
And above all, that they will never think that it's okay to sell drugs to become a cop.

Here's to faith, hope and some really good rules.

(I do love them so)

Balanced meal?!?

So ya know when kids start thinking they're big enough

to make their own plates at family parties?

Ethan thought it was time for him to be a 'big boy' and

dish up his own plate at a recent family party.

I decided to let him go for it and see if he has listened to

me when I lecture the kids about making healthy food choices.

I was fairly confident that he would make me proud.

Don't ya love it how kids keep you humble and remind you

that there is always something to improve on?

What? What's wrong with olives and Fritos?

There's some grain in there somewhere.

And I'm sure the "it's a 'veggie' factor" far

outweighs the "they're loaded with fat" factor.

Whatever.

and p.s. Mindy, don't ever let his hair get that long.

It's not cute.

What's wrong with this picture? Church Edition

So everyone knows that sometimes church can get boring right?
Oh stop it! You know it does.

Since Greg was put into the Bishopbric, I am now in charge of getting
5 children and myself ready and to church by 9:00 a.m.
It rarely happens. We usually stroll in around
9:04...ish.

So for those lucky people that get to sit by the Dibbles
at church, I have created a game to help them stay awake.
It's called the "What did Mindy forget today?" game.
It allows our fellow hard chair patrons the opportunity to
notice what is missing from either me or one or all of my children's wardrobes.
It's fun.

couldn't find Kenna's matching ribbon.


No tights for Olivia.

Where are Ethan's shoes?

Who ironed Lindsay's skirt?

Not me.

and no one's happy when Tyson's treats are forgotten.

(This was not part of the game and will never be ignored again!!)

I'm just trying to serve my fellow man.

I do what I can.

Your welcome.

I'm sure there will be many more editions to come.

Now I'm a Believer..

Remember this post?
I was having a pretty rough time finding the energy I needed to get through the day.
I was not sleeping well and was therefore tired all the time. I wasn't eating well. You know how it goes right? You pick the leftover PB&J off your toddler's plate, throw down 1/2 a bananna and a Dr. Pepper and that's lunch. I had misplaced my "ummppphh" and it was affecting me in all aspects of my life.
I know, I know, I have 5 kids and a husband and lots of responsibilities. Of course, I'm going to get a little run down. But it was something different. My body felt weighted. And I don't mean fat or overweight...I felt heavy and slow...like a slug. I was exhausted. No amount of Dr. Pepper or Red Bull was going to help.
I knew I needed...something.
And then Greg came home and told me of a cleanse he had recently heard about. I had heard about colon cleanses and didn't want to do that. He said that this one supposedly cleansed not only your colon but your whole body. It would remove the toxins in your body, give you tons of energy AND one of the side effects is.....weight loss.
WHAT!?!?
Give me energy and lose weight?
Now, if I were a super-hero..my name would be 'Skeptagirl'. My powers would be to doubt everything that sounded too good to be true.
I would have a sidekick called 'The Yeah Right Kid' who would roll his eyes and say
"Yeah Right!" all the time. My arch nemesis would be the "As seen on T.V. people". I would go around exposing all the charletons and saving humankind a fortune in $19.99 increments.
(and of course, I would look smokin' hot in my super-hero outfit).
So naturally I was not convinced but at this point I was so desperate for some energy that I had two options to chose from.
1. Try the cleanse.
2. Get hooked on Crystal Meth.
Seeing as how Crystal Meth is illegal (I don't look good in orange or jumpsuits) and much more expensive than the cleanse, I decided that doing the cleanse would be the better solution.
Fast forward to me 10 pounds lighter, 10 inches smaller and filled with energy.
And I sleep better.
Now, you must know that I would tell you if something was a bunch of hoooey. I wouldn't exaggerate or mislead. I will tell you what I really thought about it.
It takes a certain amount of discipline but nothing too difficult.
A chocolate (or vanilla..if you're boring) shake in the morning, a sensible lunch, a shake at night. And tons of water.
Then there are the cleanse days. They consist of the cleanse drink and snacks. And tons of H2O.
It was actually much easier than I thought it might be.
I hate it when people don't tell how much something costs or try to make it sound less. You know what I mean? Cause $39.99 sounds so much cheaper than $40.00. Whatever.
The 11 day cleanse costs $150.00 and was worth every Wendy's junior cheeseburger
I won't be buying. It has made such a difference in the kind of mother and wife I am.
I did gain back about 3 pounds since then but I would have willingly gained 3 pounds in exchange for the energy I felt and the knowledge that I was cleaning my body from the inside out. The everyday toxins we put into our bodies are bad. They're like dryer lint. If you don't empty that dryer lint thingy, all that lint sits there and it makes your dryer run twice as hard and use much more energy and probably eat socks. I just needed to empty my dryer lint thingy.
I feel like one of those shiny energy efficient front loading dryers (in super-hero red of course).
So now, I've convinced Greg and my sister to do the cleanse. They will be starting on Monday and they are very excited about it. Let me know if you want to be a shiny new dryer too.
The cleanse is from Isagenix and you can go here to learn more about it. If you would like to do it with Greg and Melinda on Monday, let me know and I can get you the product in time.
For the low, low price of $19.99...or so.
Here's to healthy, clean living.

Hello?.....is anyone there?

(the instructions on this phone go as follows:

EMERGENCY TELEPHONE

Dial 999 for constable and Police, Fire, and Ambulance).

Obviously the instruction printing people did not get the memo to the
emergency phone making people.
But what about the guy who puts the instructions on the phone?
What's his excuse?
Hopefully, you have not just been attacked by a bear.
Hopefully, you are not bleeding profusely when you come upon this beacon of hope.
I really shouldn't judge.
This sort of thing happens to me quite often.
You know, you pack your 1st grader's book report in your 4th grader's back-pack.
You show up for the neighborhood party with your
potato salad the night after it happened.
You tell your husband "I'm fine Honey, I promise"
and then get secretly annoyed when he
doesn't pick up on your "I'm bugged" attitude.

How many times have I offered to be there to help someone
but then left the attitude of a wrong number?
We don't even mean to or know we're doing it.

We say things like,
"Let me know if you need me to bring something."
instead of, "I will bring a salad or do you need a dessert instead?"

"You're having surgery? Let me know if you need help."
instead of, "Oh, you're having surgery?
Would you rather have me over on Wednesday or Thursday to help?"

How many times has someone been "bleeding" for help but didn't
call me because they didn't think I was sincere in my offer?
I would be willing to help anyone, I really would
but do they know that I would?
I'm going to try this more often so hopefully,
people will KNOW that when they call on me for help,

that I will not only answer the call, but that I will
be happy to drive the rescue truck.
Here's to being in-tune.

Not today Bird!!!!

"Perseverance means to continue in a given course until we have reached a goal or objective, regardless of obstacles, opposition, and other counter influences...Perseverance is a positive, active characteristic...It gives us hope by helping us realize that the righteous suffer no failure except in giving up and no longer trying."
--Joseph B. Wirthlin, "Never Give Up", Ensign, Nov. 1987, 8

You're acting like a child!

So if you've ever been to Chuck-E-Cheese's you are painfully aware of:

a. the absurd amount of germs surrounding your children

b. the disturbing lack of parenting that goes on there

c. the "ride" that takes a high quality photo of your munchkin.

My kids love this little attraction and usually end up spending most of their tokens on these photo keepsakes. Last time we were there, I had a pile of pictures, as usual. Makenna came up and handed me another for the stack.

You may be wondering who the cute little girl next to her is.

I was too. Makenna said, "I think her name is Amber. We're friends now".

Simple as that.

Kids just say, "Hi. Want to play?" They don't need any background information. A first name will suffice. They don't care where you live, if you have a cool bike or what you got on your last spelling test. They just want to play. And if the other kid says no, they just shrug their shoulders and move on to the next kid. They are best friends...until mom says it's time to go.

Adults are a little more guarded. We consider things like what kind of car you drive, how much money you make and what your pant size is. We take friendships slowly and carefully. We have expectations and rules. And if a friendship goes awry, we get hurt or offended.

When does this change take place? When do those walls come up? And why do we let them?

When does the basic human need for bonding turn into judgment and fear?

Is it because we're shy or uncomfortable going outside of our comfort zone? Or maybe we're just so busy trying to get to the next thing, the thought doesn't even occur to us.

Whatever the reason, I say we all start acting like children again. They have the ability to look outside of themselves and see the good in someone else. Let's pretend that the waiting area at Jiffy Lube is Chuck-E-Cheese's (same amount of grime right?). Or that neighbor you've never talked to is that girl waiting for a partner on the see-saw. Just do it, I dare ya.

It happened to me recently at soccer practice. I was trying to keep an eye on 3 kids on the playground, one on the soccer field and one in desperate need of a snack. While I was rummaging through the suitcase that is my purse, I heard a pretty voice from behind me say..."Hello."

I turned around to see the matching pretty face (and gorgeous hair, perfect teeth and teensy waist) smiling at me. I said hello back and we started easily chatting about soccer, kids and life in general. After the 5 or so minutes that we talked it was clear that we had many things in common and it felt like we were old friends. Suzette was kind and genuine and I think I was as well. We smiled and said, "See ya next week".

Imagine if she hadn't said anything or if I had not responded. Instead, we are able to chat at soccer games and greet each other as friends at school functions. I am happy to say that I know and admire her and her beautiful family. And ya know that I'm gonna like her cause she named her son after a baseball player.

Recently at the first grade awards assembly, we sat by each other as we watched our two six year olds receive the award for...you'll never guess...being friendly to others

**

while our two four year old boys played with each other like they've been friends forever.

So I felt the need to snap a picture of the radiant Suzette and the thrown together Mindy.

If only it had that nice Chuck-E-Cheese's border around it.

Just goes to show ya...being childlike isn't bad. So yeah, I know we're all in a hurry but next time you see that cashier at the store who never judges you for getting Ho Ho's every single time, give her an extra bit of conversation. (Unless it's the one at Costco who asks me every stinkin' time if they're all mine). And maybe the receptionist at the dentist's office would like to hear about something other than your bi-cuspids. Or leave a comment on the blog of someone you don't know but love to read. (I'm getting better at this, I just feel so stalkery).

Or maybe just a simple hello to someone you don't know cause...ya never know...

This picture:

could end up in their wedding video. :)

Here's to being friendly.

**remember me mocking the high quality photos at Chuck-E-Cheese's....yeah sorry.

A firecracker of a day!!!

Hope your 4th was as lovely





and crazy as ours was!!

I do love the old U.S.of A. and all that she gives us.

Puppy Love

Tell me it gets easier....

Are you ready to ruuuummmmble?

In this corner...

weighing in at a hundred and 'I've had 5 babies and can't stop drinking Dr. Pepper' pounds,

claiming to be strongwilled and stubborn, (remember this?)

former mocker of animals wearing clothing

(okay, I still do this. I mean, really?)

lover of clean rugs and crisp linen scent.....

it's...

Mean Mom Mindy.

And in this corner....

her longtime adversary

weighing in at roughly 2 1/2 pounds

with big, brown eyes

and big, floppy ears,

loved and adored by all who see her

making it impossible to use clear judgment and sound thinking....

It's....

the amazingly resilient to toddler torture,

undeniably sweet

and fairly tolerable even at 3:30 in the morning....

Libby.

It was never really a fair fight in my opinion.

I feel like it was rigged by the judges (Greg and my mother)

and the fans (the children) didn't take me seriously as a competitor.

I was a lone fighter.

I was defeated by a worthy opponent.

I mean really, how do you compete with this?

Even I bought a "Libby is the Champ" T-shirt on the way out of the arena.

2nd ain't so bad.

So Greg's Grandpa was a second son.

Greg's Dad was a second son.

Greg is a second son.

And my little Tyson is a second son.

I love all four of these men for different reasons.
I met and fell in love with Grandpa Great before I met and fell in love with Greg.
Ya know those people that just ooze goodness? He was one of those people.
He was generous, loving and he was a winker..like me.
The company I worked for ordered calendars and pens from "Wally" and he would deliver them to us. I was his contact and was smitten with him the moment I met him.
He would saunter into the office carrying his supplies and would spend time talking with me. He would say things like, "I have lots of grand-sons" or "my grand-sons are single". I would smile and say something like, "If they're anything like you Wally, I'll take one of em."
He would wink at me and then whistle as he walked back out the door.
Little did I know, right?
Grandpa Dibble is the same. You instantly love him and he instantly makes you feel loved. He is patient, hard working and loves his family.
He is a good person. The grandkids adore him and I think people love to say that they know him.
He has the faith and strength to kick major trials to the side like some annoying pebble in his way. And he has such a lovely laugh and easy smile.
I am so happy to call him family.
And then there's my Gregory. How handsome is he? It took me about 7 1/2 minutes to know that I could marry him. He was easy to love and still is.
He has learned from these two men and learned well. He is an amazing father who loves and protects his children fiercely. I have no doubt that he loves me but I'm also pretty sure he that he likes me. His faith is steadfast and he has a tender and sincere love for the Savior. He is super selfless and the man makes one mean roasted marshmallow. I'm tellin' ya. It's like edible art. A gooey pot of marshmallowy goodness. The kids like him best. I love him most.

My little Tyson True is the easiest thing in the world to love. He is the only one of my children that looks somewhat like me. (sorry kid). He is spunky and smart and I adore him. He has some very good examples and I have no worries that he will be a good second son and will carry on the tradition**.

**sorry about that pressure I just put on you to give us two grandsons. I like second girls too.