Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Three Truths and One Lie, The Truth

Wow! I couldn't believe the overwhelming response to my Three Truths and One Lie! It was amazing, I couldn't even keep up with the comments! It was crazy!

So, I'm sure all five of you that voted are waiting anxiously for the results. Well, the two that voted for Elf Girlie Legs you were....WRONG! You heard it right, as crazy as that sounds, it's true. You wouldn't believe how humiliated I was. Luckily, I didn't know who was in the elf suit and hopefully, they didn't know me.

Next was the one vote for My Missionary Bob. Well, that one is....TRUE! Yep, I had a missionary who was a total player and had quite a harem waiting for him. And yes, after the pipe bomb incident he is a cop. Surprising, eh?

Nobody voted for Hallucinating Birth. That one is also....TRUE. Luckily, Derek was there to capture the moment for posterity.

Which leaves, Fat Lip Soccer Star. Which is... a big fat LIE! Chelsi knew it was a lie since she was there through my whole scary formative years. Congrats girl!

That picture is true though! I got those awesome fat lips another way. When I was in college, I was in Forensics (not the CSI type, Speech and Debate). About every other weekend we traveled to different places to compete against other colleges. One weekend, we went to Aneheim. I can't remember which college we competed against though. After a fun day at Disneyland we came back to the hotel and went to get something to eat. After eating, my lips felt a little tingly, but when I looked in the mirror, I couldn't see anything wrong. A few hours later, though, they looked like that! Then, my eyes started to swell up too. I took some Benedryl, but that didn't work either, so in the middle of the night my coach and a friend took me to the ER (thanks Eric and Bronwyn). They gave me some heavy drugs and the next morning I looked a little less collegeney (if that's a word). Luckily, I didn't have to compete. Unluckily, I earned the awesome nickname Melip (thanks Sally!).

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Three Truths and One Lie: Story Four

Last week, cjane did Three Truths and One Lie on her blog. She invited all to participate, so here it goes. This week, I'll post three truths and one big fat lie. On the last day, you'll have the opportunity to vote and see how great you are at detecting my blatant lie.

Now that you've heard all the stories, see if you can spot the lie. Vote on the side for the one you think is the lie. You can vote until Monday at 6:00 AM. Good luck!

I've always loved soccer. Starting at the age of five I was hooked. I played every year without fail. Running up and down the soccer field and making goals was a passion. The other day, I was going through some stuff at the storage unit and found this picture {sorry Paige!}. If you can't tell, I'm in the front row right in the middle. That hair is so hot! Sadly, I never outgrew the "hot" hair. High school was especially sad, but that's a story for another day. So, I found this picture and remembered a funny story about when I was older and playing soccer.


Besides being very passionate about soccer, I was also very competitive. I wasn't a big bully on the soccer field, I just wasn't afraid to throw a few elbows. A few times though, I wish I wouldn't have thrown those elbows. Most times, it was girls bigger than me. When that happened, they'd usually just push me down and I'd make a new resolve to not throw elbows anymore. Yeah, that never happened. I'd get in a game and then the competitive nature would take over and I'd end up on the ground...again.

So, I played all through elementary school, middle school and when I got to high school, I decided I didn't want to play on the high school team because I wanted to do drama instead. Yep, I laid it all out...I'm a full-fledged drama geek and proud of it! Because the city didn't have a soccer league for older kids, I joined AYSO {American Youth Soccer Organization}. It's kind of like a city league, but it takes kids from all over the county instead. It also wasn't as time intensive. I could still do drama and do soccer on Saturdays. It worked out great! The only bad thing was that there were bigger, meaner girls than me and I still hadn't learned how to control my temper {it's a family trait...a few of us have it...what a gift!}.

When I was 16 or 17, I can't remember exactly how old I was, I had a life changing experience. It was our second to the last game of the season and our team was losing. For me, losing was just not cool. That's when I decided I needed to work a little harder at getting more goals. For me, working a little harder included throwing a few more elbows, pushing a little harder, and being meaner. So, that's what I did. One well placed elbow hit a very well-endowed girl in the chest. She was as cool with that as I was with losing and from there it went all downhill. After the elbow, she gave me a hidden shove. The idea in soccer is to be mean, but to not let anyone see you, because that gets you ejected from the game. So, it went back and forth throughout the whole game. Her elbowing me, me shoving her, a little kick in the shins {that's why they make shingards, for loving team members like us!}...you get the picture. I guess she had had enough though with my last elbow and she full on pushed me down while one of her teamates stuck her leg out. I was double-teamed! And I hadn't even seen it coming!

Now, gravity being gravity and all, I face planted, big time. Not just a little, I had been running so that made it even worse. And guess what broke my fall? My face! Who knew such a vital piece of my body could take such a brutal beating? It was horrible! And really, with bad hair and bad acne I didn't really need any help in the looks department! So, I picked myself up and really wanted to beat the crud out of her, but my teamates stopped me. We were still losing and I didn't want to be ejected from the game. I kept playing, with a little less intensity of course, I didn't want to do another forced face plant {or ruin my makeup!}. I figured I'd done enough damage already. How little I knew about the damage until after I'd been home, taken a shower, washed off the dirt, and looked in the mirror. And this is what I saw:



Yeah, that's quite the nice fat lip, eh? And this picture is AFTER I tried to help this totally awesome look by getting ready for the day. Yeah, the makeup didn't help much. Really, how can you help that sad deformed face? It'd take a dump truck full of makeup to help that! I didn't go to church the next day for fear of scaring the little kids {you know how they are at that age}. Fortunately for me, the fat lip only lasted a few days. Unfortunately, it solidified my decision of ending my soccer career. I had been debating it, but this did it for me. I decided it best that I stick to drama instead. That way I couldn't hurt myself anymore than I already had. So, I played the last game of the season, we won and I decided I was done. Until ward Futsal! But we'll leave those stories for another day.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Three Truths and One Lie, Story Three

Last week, cjane did Three Truths and One Lie on her blog. She invited all to participate, so here it goes. This week, I'll post three truths and one big fat lie. On the last day, you'll have the opportunity to vote and see how great you are at detecting my blatant lie. Good luck!

This story is a great one and it goes all the way back to my middle school days. When I was in seventh grade, there was this boy in eighth grade that liked me. We'll call him "Bob" to protect his dignity. Every night he would call me about ten times. Now, this was before caller ID so I couldn't just not answer the phone. Each time, I'd hang up on him and tell him not to call anymore because I didn't like him. This one-sided love affair went on until Bob moved into high school. I was left at the middle school and so we didn't see each other anymore.

Until high school, a year later, and something changed. I was infatuated with Bob. I wanted to date Bob and be his girl. Now though, Bob didn't want me. He wanted to flirt with me and lead me on, but he didn't want me for his girl. I was heartbroken and still, so infatuated. I wanted him though and I made a complete fool of myself following him around, trying to get his attention so that he'd like me the way I liked him. It didn't work though and I spent a lot of time, wasted time, on him.

Then he graduated. After he graduated, we went on a few dates, had fun, and were pretty good friends. Although, there was that pipe bomb he threw at my house that broke a window...the parents weren't real happy about that. {How he ended up a cop is beyond me.} But we ended up being good friends. I graduated, we continued to be good friends and went on some more dates. Then it was time for him to leave on his mission.

The night before his mission we were standing outside my house hugging. Yes, hugging. I didn't kiss. I had a rule that I wasn't going to kiss anyone until I got married. {That rule fell apart though when in my first week of college, Ryan Simsich chased me down and kissed me.} So, we were outside hugging, he kissed my cheek when...{wait for it} he asked me to wait for him.

It was like the heavens had opened up and the blessings were just pouring down on me. I was so excited {'cause really, isn't that every good Mormon girls dream?}! He picked me! After all the torture in high school of my unrequited love, he picked ME to wait for HIM! Of course I said yes. Then, my dad flicked the porch light and it was time to go in.

So, he left for the MTC and I wrote faithfully. We talked about how much we loved each other and what our kids' names were going to be when he got back and when we were going to get married and have kids and all that stuff you dream about when you're young and stupid.

When it came time for him to leave for Brazil, I rode with his parents up to the airport, stayed at his aunts house, and was a full-fledged card carrying member of his family. The airport was hard, but I was ok because I knew that in 1-1/2 years, he would come home and we would be getting married.

We continued to write back and forth for about a year until I ran into a friend from high school at college. We talked about a few things and I asked her if she was dating anyone.

"No" she said, "I'm waiting for Bob."

I couldn't believe it. This girl was waiting for my Bob?!

I said, among a few other things, "Oh really, I'm waiting for him too." Then I pulled some of his letters out of my backpack and she did the same. There it was, the proof, he had strung us both along. We had been played. Our letters were so similar. It was like he had cut and pasted. I was devastated. Come to find out, we weren't the only ones. I think there were two or three others that he had also asked to wait for him.

That cheating, lying dog! Although, it was kind of smart on his end. Get four or five girls waiting for you and that way if some of them get married you still have options. I was so upset though. I had written faithfully, I had sent him packages full of the things he liked. And let me tell you, packages to Brazil are not cheap! We had even exchanged CTR rings. I sent him a scathing letter about trust and love and all those things naive girls in their teens think they know EVERYTHING about and sent it on it's way. I never heard back.

A few months after we moved here, we were in the grocery store when who should come around the corner but Bob. I saw him, he saw me and then he promptly turned around and went the other way.

Since then, I've seen him quite a few times. I don't hold a grudge and I'm not mad, I'm glad things turned out the way they did. So, every time I see him I say hi and give him a smile and a wave. He gives me a little head nod, probably afraid I'm going to run him down in the parking lot, and goes on his way, watching his back, afraid for the next time he sees me. Maybe I should apologize for the scathing letter? Naw, I'll keep him scared for now.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

I Am So Blessed


For Family Home Evening, we headed up to where Derek and Brandon had gone on their Fathers and Sons camp out. The kids were so excited for frog catching, roasting hot dogs, and s'mores. We had so much fun! First, the kids caught frogs and tad-a-poles {as Kendal calls them}. Kendal's quite the natural! She could catch a frog on her first try! I was so impressed! After we spent the time catching all the frogs I told Derek that I am morally against taking happy frogs out of their natural enviroment. If you look above, there's a picture of my foot. Look closely and you'll see all the frogs Derek dumped on it {You have to look really close, they blend in.}. So, we took home tadpoles instead. I thought it would be fun for the kids to watch the lifecyle of a frog. I remember as a kid catching tadpoles in the gutters by our house and taking them home to observe. After all the frog catching and releasing, we were famished! We roasted our hot dogs and then ate s'mores. The pictures on the left are of Brandon feeding Kendal the stringy marshmallow part of his s'more. Because we had so much fun, we decided to make it a weekly occurance through the summer with lots of camping involved.

Really, I am so blessed! There's not many places where you can drive 20 miles and be out in the quiet, away from life, with the people you love the most! This is one of those times that I'll tuck away in my memory and treasure forever.

Three Truths and One Lie, Story Two

Last week, cjane did Three Truths and One Lie on her blog. She invited all to participate, so here it goes. This week, I'll post three truths and one big fat lie. On the last day, you'll have the opportunity to vote and see how great you are at detecting my blatant lie. Good luck!

Story Two:

It's really funny, that after you have a baby, you forget about everything that happened and think you want to have another one. Not the case with Brandon, I didn't forget about anything because for some reason Derek thought it relevant that he write everything down. So, I went to the storage unit and pulled out the journal that he transcribed what could honestly be my most embarrassing moment {and believe me, I have a few that are horrid} yet. Enjoy! I guess I did!

For some reason, when you're at the end of your pregnancy you really, really, really want to get the baby out. For some reason, we forget that it's easier when the baby is in you. There's no diapers to change, no feeding to do, etc, etc. Well, I was more than a little anxious to get Brandon out so I thought it would be a GREAT idea to drink some castor oil. Really, it's not a great idea. It's just disgusting...and messy.

So, for weeks I'd been maybe dilated to a three and nothing was working. I decided that the castor oil would for sure put me into labor. So I mixed it with some orange juice and gagged it down. A few hours later I was having a few contractions so I decided to head to labor and delivery to get this baby out!

I got there and they hooked me up to the machines to monitor me and Brandon. My contractions weren't that strong but they were concerned about Brandon's heart rate. Everytime I'd have a contraction his heart would almost stop. So they decided to keep me and give me a little dose of pitocin to speed my labor up.

I was so excited until the contractions got harder, then I was begging for drugs {What?! I'm a wuss!} They came in and put something into my IV {I wish I could remember what it was so I could google it and see if anyone else had the same reaction}. A little while later, I was hallucinating. Now, I've never taken drugs so I'm not sure what I would compare it to, but apparently I put on quite the show. Here's a few things that Derek wrote down for our posterity.

  • While laying there, I was concerned that the nurses would find out I took castor oil and I really didn't want that to happen. So, I leaned over to my mother-in-law and yelled at her {loud enough for everyone in the hospital to hear}, "Please don't tell the nurses I took castor oil, I don't want them to get mad at me!" Apparently, hallucinating also impairs your hearing. Who knew?
  • I wanted to get a really nice room, not one of the closets that they sometimes stick you in, and so I told one of the nurses, "I'm a really nice person with a really good sense of humor." It didn't get me a nice room, I still had a closet! Darn! What does it take? An awesome sense of humor?
  • This one I have no recollection of and am completely baffeled, "I don't want to go to Washington State, you have to use black first." If there's any of you out there that speak hallucination, let me know your interpretation.
  • This one is pretty cool. I was hallucinating that my doctor was trying to take my car to go home {to my house} and get the pizza and chocolate milk coupons that were sitting on the counter. That's not even the best part! I was babbling on about the chocolate milk and pizza and was awfully concerened that he couldn't drive my car, "You have to be in park to turn the car off, you can't be in drive. Dr. Lunt was trying to start the car but he couldn't put it in park." Apparently, he didn't get the car out of park because I don't remember eating pizza and chocolate milk while there.
  • Another favorite: I was laying there feeling rather unbeautiful so I turned to my mother-in-law and asked her to put my lipstick on. After she slathered me with chapstick, I turned to her and said, "Do I look beautiful now? I have to look beautiful for when the baby comes."
  • And the final one: "There's no way she put medicine in there {my IV}. She must have put hairspray in there."
I'm guessing that whatever they gave me is banned now because when I had Kendal I didn't have any hallucinations. That's kind of too bad, because I'm sure it would have been a heck of a lot funnier the second time around!

Monday, May 18, 2009

It's only going to get hotter...

So, we've now officially bypassed spring {wasn't that three days of springy weather great?} and moved on to summer. Scorching, sweaty, sticky, hot summer. We decided, "To heck with that!" We're going to kick summers butt by staying cool and if that means hitting every splash pad where we live, so be it!

Saturday we headed to the splash pad on Main street. We had a great time and got our fill of bikini clad women {think ages 45+} to last the whole rest of the summer!

While trying to avert our eyes though, we really did have a great time.

This big water sprayer was Brandon's favorite part. I'm sure the wedgie he got doing it probably wasn't worth it though.

The little stream kept Kendal cool until the bikini-clad lovelies blocked it off at one end by sitting in it.

"Mom, I don't need a shower, I just sat in the water fall!"

Not quite as daring as her brother, or maybe just smarter. Less wet = less cold. She's got it right!

I know of a few splash parks around here, but if there's any of you out there that know of them all, leave a comment. That way, all together, we can make sure no one misses out on any of the bikini club gals!

Three Truths and One Lie

Last week, cjane did Three Truths and One Lie on her blog. She invited all to participate, so here it goes. This week, I'll post three truths and one big fat lie. On the last day, you'll have the opportunity to vote and see how great you are at detecting my blatant lie. Good luck!

Story numero uno:

We've lived where we live for a little over four years now. It's been great and we've made some really great friends. One night about a year ago, there was a knock at our door. I answered it and there was an unfamiliar person standing there. She asked me what time church started on Sunday and where it was. I told her, we talked for a little while and she told me her name was Jenny and they had just moved in around the corner. I decided that it was my mission to introduce her to our "group" and since we have become great friends. Not just with her, but with her husband, Dave, and their kids.

Her husband works for a certain company that's spokesperson lives in a tree and makes cookies. My favorite kind...with the chocolate in the center shaped like a little person that might live in a tree and make cookies. Anyways, one night we were over at their house and she asked him to dress up in the costume. That's when we made a bee-line for the door and decided we were good with the friends we had. I kid. We were a little worried though and wondered what on earth we were getting ourselves into and if we should grab the kids and run.

He went into the garage, was in there for a few minutes, and came out in full elf regalia...even down to the red tights. We laughed and the kids were terrified and all ran away. Jenny told us that sometimes the stores in the area that he stocks, have him come in all dressed up when they have promotions. She explained how much she loved the costume but especially liked his legs in the red tights. She had affectionately called them "girlie legs". We had a great time at his expense and thought it would make a great conversation starter sometime down the road.

Now, fast forward a few weeks....

We're in a grocery store where we live and who should be there, but an elf. We knew it was Dave and wanted to have a little fun with him. Derek debated going up to him and pushing him down. I kind of discouraged that because it might be a little difficult to pick him back up. I thought it'd be funny to go up to him and make fun of his "girlie legs". We debated back and forth and figured the "girlie legs" would go over better and there wouldn't be any violence. So, I walked up to him and told him,

"Nice girlie legs! Those are hot!"

There wasn't any response which I figured there wouldn't be because he was in "the zone". Be the elf. We went on shopping and thought it was a little odd that the Dave-elf was now following us around the store. We just figured Dave was trying out his hand at stalking.

We got our groceries and was checking out and I thought I'd call Jenny and tell her that we'd seen Dave and what we'd said to him. She answered and I said,

"Hey, we saw Dave down here at the store all dressed up and I went up to him and told him he had nice girlie legs."

There was a pause and then she said,

"Dave's right here with me at home."

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he's standing right here."

"No way! I just told that person that they had nice girlie legs."

She laughed and laughed and laughed and then when she was done laughing she laughed some more. I was mortified.

I thought that I should probably fix what I had done and apologize to the elf. The bad thing about apologizing to a person in a costume is where to look. You're really not sure where their eyes are and it's a little uncomfortable. So, I found the elf. Which really wasn't that hard as it had been stalking us; maybe it had to do with the girlie legs comment? I stumbled through a lame apology about having a friend and blah blah blah thinking he was it and I'm sorry and it won't happen again Mr. Elf and probably a million other things because I felt like a complete idiot. Guess what the elf said.

Nothing. No comment.

Then I felt even more stupid. So, I left and guess who followed me out.

Magenta Monday

I'm back y'all! It's time for another rendition of Magenta Monday! Yee-haw! {A little secret...it's actually not Monday, it's really, really late Saturday night and I think I might be a little tiny bit tired.}

So, if you want to join in, all you need to do is go to your blog, post four of your favorite pictures (if you want to say a little about them you can), and leave a link in the comments section of my post so other people can enjoy too!

So, without {oh, I am tired, I had to think about how to spell without} further delay, here are my favorites for today.


There really are no words for this picture. What would you say? Yes, they are my husbands kids. No doubt about it! I would NEVER do that. NEVER, EVER!


Fathers and sons last year. They went rapeling and Brandon got about halfway down before he decided that it was NOT cool. So, Derek carried Brandon and himself down. Fun times!

Love this picture! Total diva!


Me and moo. We miss you! You need to come visit! The kids miss you lots too....or maybe they miss your Nintend* DS {* means I don't need everyone searching for a Nintend* DS to come visit my blog}. Quite possible. No, they miss you.

Hhmmm.....maybe they are my kids.