Mammoth- Part I

I will have to split our Mammoth vacation up into a few posts since I have a ridiculous amount of photos, and video clips. I really was looking forward to this trip, mainly because I hope it is going to be the first of many ski/snowboard vacations for our family. I would love for all the kids to know how to ski or snowboard and I figure the younger the better. I haven’t skied in 11 years. Yes! 11 YEARS! I was putting on my ski jacket and unzipped the pocket and pulled out my last lift ticket, from January 8, 1998 in Snow Summit. 

Aaron is a snowboarder and I had a disastrous time trying to switch to snowboarding at 17 years of age. It truly was disastrous. I figure since I can ski, I should stick to what I know. I am not such a “roadtrip” person. Especially since I get carsick at a red light, thus making it a necessity that I drive everywhere. But Aaron doesn’t mind because he gets to sleep then. Another reason I never liked roadtrips was because of kids. My kids hated the car, however as they are getting older, they are much better. I think part of that has to do with the fact that road trips involve things they don’t usually get to enjoy. Things like a movie in the car, cheetos, and milkshakes from one of the stops on the way. 

We went with the Hernandez family, and well, I feel for them. Being they had an 18 month old in their car, you couldn’t have paid me to ride in theirs for the 4 and a 1/2 hour trip. But we made it. We all survived, and with not a lick of vomit! That is a feat my friends. The kids were beyond excited to get to go to the snow and not only that, but live with their friends for 5 days.

It’s also nice to travel with other people who happen to be more OCD than yourself. Yes, I am talking about Elliott. He is major Type A, and it kind of takes the pressure off myself. It’s fantastic. He’s the one who likes it clean and the organizer and the time keeper. It was actually very relaxing for me! I am not joking, it was a really fun time and part of that was due to our over organization of the trip. In fact, only once did we not know where we were going and then Deborah happened to just pull the street out of the cerebellum part of her brain and voila, we found it.

Another part of traveling with other families is the trip there. You never know how well your driving patterns will mesh. Whose conscience you will offend while traveling at what speed? Fortunately, within the first 30 minutes we had pretty much solved this issue. Of course Elliott had to be in the lead at all times, he did not appreciate looking at my car’s tail end. To solve this Aaron texted them that we needed gas. As they merged to exit the freeway it was a very simple maneuver to then take the lead. Unfortunately this ticked him off and we spent the next hour deciding over who would lead. Yes, he won out. But I figured that would mean he would be the first to get a ticket and I could pass through undetected. But I would like to report not one of us was pulled over once. Which is a good thing since I’m not eligible for traffic school for another 8-10 months. Or as Aaron likes to refer to it as ‘speed school’.

We made up lists ahead of time of what food/drink items we would each bring which really made the trip easy. There was always an easy meal to prepare and plenty of snacks and drinks for the kids handy. And it was great for the kids because they always had a number of children to play with, torture, tease, chase, etc.

Gunnar decided to take up snowboarding and Sawyer and Maddie were enrolled in ski school. I have a ton of respect for people who live in cold weather. It seriously took 30 minutes each day just to get the kids dressed. As soon as one had their ski socks and boots on and you’d go to get the other kid’s gloves, that first kid had successfully removed a boot and sock. And again and again. Here’s a few of the ride there.

As you can see, Aaron likes to get his nap on.

I didn’t take these ones, but it was right before we left and the next day in the condo reading.

There was no shortage of electronic devices between these two families. Between the laptops, blackberries, walkie talkies, cell phones, SLR cameras, point and shoot cameras, and videocameras, everything was well documented and coordinated.

There will be more photos to come this week. I have plenty of the kids on their skis and boards, and of a very entertaining morning we spent sledding. But this will do for today because I have 3 duffel bags to put away.

I’m going to post some video from Elliott’s little camcorder, and since he’s the only one who can ski and shoot video at the same time. Show off. Here’s video from him. And yes, he’s the best skier in the house. There. I said it.

and here is a little of Sawyer and Maddie during their first lesson at ski school. Don’t let Maddie fool you. The day after this there were no run ins with the fence. That girl was a mad snow plower!

not here

I will not be here for a few days. We are in Mammoth for a few days and will be back to posting next week. But for now I will leave you with a few oldies but goodies. I know some have their favorite posts of mine and it cracks me up the ones you all enjoy. But here are some of my faves.

Zumba

Bad Days

Bad Days Sequel

Enjoy.

deodorant

(First- Orkin Man Update: I came home from work to two huge industrial looking flytraps on my porch. I asked Aaron where he got them from? He didn’t get them. Yep. And now Aaron has informed me that I owe the Orkin Man. Just what I need, a debt to the Orkin Man. . .)

Yes, deodorant. And don’t even tell me for one second that this is not important to you too. 

Because it so is.

As most of you now have figured out, I hate change. I dread it. I have nightmares about it. And most of you have also figured out that I am married to a man who loves change. Loves change so much that I am surprised he’s still married to me. Surprised that we have only lived in 2 states and moved 5 times in the 8.5 years we have been married. Not so surprised that I can’t even remember all the elevator company names that he has worked for. This brings me to another not so big surprise. The man refuses to buy the same deodorant twice. Yes, you heard me correctly. He will go into a store and choose a different one each time. And not just different, if you throw in something free shrink wrapped to the deodorant, that’s the one for him. And when I have to buy his deodorant, and I ask what he wants. He tells me to go pick one that looks cool. R i d i c u l o u s.

Well, that’s not me. In fact, I have been using the same deodorant for the last 15 years. Yes, it has gotten a little difficult through the years to find it at every Rite Aid. Especially with these companies who decide to change their packaging, but ultimately, the Ban Clear Gel Unscented has been my deodorant of choice for years. About 2 years ago was the last time I had to buy deodorant since I buy in bulk when I find it. I clean the store out completely. 5 days ago I apparently used my very last one. And I didn’t realize this until the next day when I went to grab a new one out of my drawer of surplus, and there were none. The drawer of surplus has surplus of everything I need. Extra hair cream, conditioners, toothbrushes, toothpaste, makeup, and most importantly deodorant. My immediate response is to go to my vacation travel bag and use the one I store there. Not there. Then I go to find my husband and yell at him that I do not think this is funny, where is my deodorant!?! He has no clue what I am ranting about. 

No big deal, I will swing by a drugstore. Saturday morning I went to CVS. They carried Ban alright, but only the Ban Clear Gel Powder Fresh and Ban Clear Gel Cool Sport. Who wants to put some nasty fragrance under their arms? Not me. Well, I went to Rite Aid then. Apparently the Powder Fresh and Cool Sport scents are popular. No Unscented. I let it go. 

That night however I had a sudden urge to find my deodorant. At 9pm I told Aaron I’ll be back. I went to Target, nothing. On my way home I stopped by 2 more Rite Aids. Well, now I’m just on a mission. All I can see is my brand of deodorant as I drive down the streets at 10 o’clock at night. I hit up another CVS. To no avail. I walk in the house, no, I storm in the house. I get on the computer and immediately start a frantic search for my deodorant. I went on 10 different drugstore, pharmacy sites. Do you know there is even a deodorant.com?  I found my brand on 2 sites, but when I went to buy 15 of them and put them in my shopping cart, not available. I decide I have no choice but to go to the official Ban website. I stayed away from the site for fear that I would read information that would be too much for me to handle. That is was discontinued.

And what do you know? It’s not there. The only kinds are the Powder Fresh and Cool Sport. By this time Aaron can feel my dispair emanating to him on the couch. He comes to see what’s wrong and realizes that I am still on the quest for my deodorant. The worse part is that I think he is getting a kick out of this. For once his deranged idea has saved himself the fate I am now facing. The fate that I have to start over. I have to find a new deodorant. I have to test multiple kinds out and then commit. And don’t think for a second that from this point on I won’t forever have in the back of my mind that this new company I commit to can just discontinue it at the drop of a hat. On a whim.

As a friend pointed out to me on IM during my frantic search for the deodorant online, maybe this is good for me. Maybe this will be a step in a new direction. A letting go and trying new.

But somehow in the back of my mind I don’t think I will be the woman who decides to try her husband’s method of choosing deodorant and looks for the free gift attached the stick. Or the woman who goes into a drugstore and looks for the yellow coupon hanging from the shelf advertising the 2 for 1 special. 

In my quest for a new deodorant I have some conditions and I fear my conditions will narrow down my selection by quite a bit. My conditions remain, gel. clear. unscented. And so my quest begins.

Wish me well on my journey. My journey of change. . .

Homemade Paper

Last week the boys went to our local park camp for a few days. They had a blast and came home with some really cool creations. I think my favorite is this homemade paper. They were so proud of it and I thought it was pretty cool, so now it is on the wall in our dining room. Seriously, with these three little artists, and the photos of my 3 little artists, there is no need for anything else to hang on my walls. Either they create something or their cute faces adorn all the walls in my house. And it makes me happy that I know all the artists personally. 

And I had to share this drawing of Sawyer’s, it’s a portrait of his daddy. It cracks me up that he even got Aaron’s company logo name correct. And apparently Aaron now has earrings and a go-tee, he has spent a little too much time with daddy on the job. And has a really accurate perspective of what elevator mechanics look like!

Orkin Man

Some of you have been briefed of my Orkin Man woes through my Facebook status, but for the rest of you, I wanted to share with you the dangers of the Orkin man. Okay, he’s not dangerous. Freaky. Most definitely. Creepy. Yeppers.

It all started a few years ago with an angry ant tirade that ravaged my kitchen. They were horrid. They were fierce. And I about lost the little sanity I had left being pregnant and having two toddlers who thought the ants were their friends and that it was nice they wanted to go into their goldfish bowls and snag the crumbs left over. We found the place of entry and they were. . . exterminated. So surprise I was when they reappeared a few months ago. This time I called in the big shots, not your mom and pop spray company, oh no, I went right to the top. And Orkin it was. My first experience with my Orkin Man was pleasant but a little unnerving.

I expected him to come and explain what they were going to use to spray, I needed to explain I had 3 small children and a dog, all 4 of which eat strange things like plants and dirt, so please, nothing too toxic. As I usually am weary of all servicemen I do not know, which happens to be all servicemen, I stepped outside on to the porch closing the door behind me. Keeping my 3 children safe in the house, hoping they would be spared if the Orkin Man chose to murder me. Now, for the male readers of this blog, yes, you 4. You are probably thinking, “paranoid! poor guy is just doing his job!” right? Well, let me explain a little something about women. This is not paranoia, this is how we live our life at all times. Trying to search out our escape routes and listening to the footstep patterns of the man behind us as we walk to our car from Target. Okay, not all the time. Because I am really just an easy target when I’m alone. Do you really think the enemy wants to take me and my THREE whiny, screaming, probably snotty children? No. But when we are alone we are constantly sizing up the enemy and trying to remember the most recent Oprah episode having to do with self defense. And being I don’t watch Oprah I would be in big trouble. 

Back to my story. Okay, so I step onto the porch and the Orkin Man asks if he could come inside instead. And being that I can’t be rude unless I was rude to first, I let him in. We sit down at the dining table and I sign the contract. Simple, he’ll be out in no time. Nope. He asks for a soda. And when I tell him I don’t have soda he asks me what I do have. I offer him water, and not water in a glass which would mean he has to sit and drink the water in my house, I give him a bottle of water that he can take with him, outside. He tries to make chit chat about where I’m from. Ummm. Here. Finally he leaves and I think, great. I’m free. But then the door knocks again, and yep, it’s the Orkin Man. Apparently he wanted to gift me some uber powerful spray that is for professional use only. But he gives it to me. Figuring it’s something I would then have to pay for I ask him how much. Nothing. It’s free, for you. Ummm, thanks?

Fast forward to the next quarter when he is supposed to come spray our outside again. He calls me and says, “Hi Deborah”. “Hi, who is this?” “It’s (insert name here, not sure and I can’t remember now)” “Okay” “From Orkin” “Okay” “Well, I just wanted to tell you I will come by to spray tomorrow” “Okay, thank you” “Will you be home” “Maybe, depends what time, but the gate will be unlocked” “Thanks, see you tomorrow”.

And of course I am home, and not only home but enjoying the last day of the kids’ winter vacation, so of course I am in my pajamas. And by pajamas I mean PJs, not nighty or lingerie or anything else that may be mildly attractive. I mean my floral flannel pants and a White Sox sweatshirt that I stole from my husband’s roommate 10 years ago and still happens to be my favorite sweatshirt. I answer the knock on the door and is wondering why he has to even talk to me instead of just go and spray the yard. I say hello, wave and stand there waiting for him to tell me what the deal is. Nothing really so I go back to cleaning the kitchen. About 10 minutes later I am standing at the sink washing some dishes, and you know that feeling you get when you are being watched? Yeah, that one. I got that feeling and looked up to meet the Orkin Man’s gaze. Most people would immediately look away right? Nope. He stood there, I looked down to rinse a dish, checked once again and still met his gaze, so I left the rest of the dishes in the sink. I called Aaron and told him if I was dead when he got home it was the Orkin Man. And that I loved him and the password to our online banking and told him to please remarry, my children need a mother. 

About 20 minutes later, another knock on my door. Okay, I need to sign something, no big deal. Then he takes note of my sweatshirt and wants to know if I’m from Chicago, or have I lived here all my life. No, not from Chicago, and I try to make my tone seem annoyed as if conveying the thought that I have a sink full of dirty dishes to now attend to now that he will be leaving. No, he’s not ready to leave just yet. He asks me if I want a fly trap for my porch. I tell him my husband usually takes care of that, and since we have one in the backyard for bees, I’ll just have him pick one up for flies, but thanks anyway. No, this is not the fly trap my husband would get, no, this is different and much better. I ask him how much this superior fly trap will cost me, thinking he’s just trying to upsell me something. His response was one of surprise, shock, insult . . . Why it’s free. What do you mean it’s free? Yes, for you it’s free. Alright, thanks. Well, the kicker is he doesn’t actually have it in his truck, so he’s going to have to go pick one up and then bring it back later. You mean to tell me you are going to go buy a fly trap and then come back here and give it to me and not want me to pay for it? Yes.

Later. As in when my husband will be home? That same husband who thinks every normal person in the world has a stalker, no big deal, and that I’m just a really paranoid woman. All Orkin men behave this way. Coincidentally the Orkin Man did not bring the fly trap Friday afternoon when I told him to do so and he could talk to my husband about it. And I doubt I will see him over the weekend. So my choices are to cancel my service and just tell him I have no more ants, if they return I will let him know. I don’t think it’d be a good idea to ask for a new Orkin Man since this guy knows too much about us and our house and I don’t want to offend or insult him. Or just switch to a different company.

Or I could believe my husband, that he is harmless and just wants to be my new friend. For the moment I decided to start Tivo’ing Oprah. just. in. case.

not a “new year’s” resolution. . .

Okay, I don’t really know why we don’t make new year’s resolutions. I mean maybe I just want to make some new resolutions and it not have to do with the new year. How’s that? Well, forget that it’s January, let’s just call it short and long term goals. Ah ha, that sounds pretty good, right?

I am a total goal oriented person, a little too much sometimes. When I get in my mind to do something I do it. But then there are those things I don’t make as a goal because I know I just can’t do them or maybe I should say don’t want to do them. I figure writing my goals and posting them on my blog will make me actually complete them. So here’s my goals, a little crazy some may be, but they’re mine none the less. And of course these are not all my goals or else you would already have stopped reading this post. But these are some new ones, ones that I haven’t really attempted in years past. And I’m not going to write about being a better mom, or daughter, or christian, these are specific things I really want to achieve. 

1. Entertain once a month, not including my family who is here like every day, but friends and people in our congregation.

2. Kiss my husband more. I know it sounds very strange, but after almost 9 years of marriage, sometimes I forget. . .

3. Make designated dirty laundry and clean laundry baskets, not put clean clothes in the baskets that were housing the dirty ones. This is a total revelation to me, never thought about it til a friend mentioned it and now it makes total sense. So far I have done this for the last 2 days and it’s not that complicated, although as soon as Aaron is in the laundry mix I will have a whole new set of problems, he doesn’t like order very much. . .

4. Potty train Greta. It is soooo time. And it is my most dreaded thing to do, but you already know that. I figure if nothing else it will lead to some very interesting, funny and or/horrifying posts.

5. Start taking photographs of other people, families, couples, whoever. Just get more serious about it. And possibly, possibly, possibly, almost not really there, but in the far far far away distance, only a slight slight possibility, but  m a y b e  look into maybe a side photography biz. I know, as if I’m not busy enough? Am I trying to kill myself? I think I won’t do it just to avoid these questions from my mother. But I really enjoy it, and I’ve had some people ask about taking photos of their family. I even was recommended by a friend, who obviously has way too much faith in me, to do a wedding. Yeah, so not there yet. But I did offer my services for their engagement shots. And I figure, what’s one afternoon a month, especially doing something you do all day anyways, it will mix it up a little and I would learn a ton. You never know. . .

6. Never miss a week of our family worship night. 

I think that will do it for now. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself and start to hyperventilate over everything that I have to accomplish. Because you know me, now that it is written. . . it will come. Not really. But that’s what I’d like to happen. And remember I put no time limits or constraints on these goals, so they could take a very long time to come to fruition, but hey, at least they are out there now in the big, bad blogosphere.

snippets

Just a few snippets of recent conversations that I really don’t want to forget so I have to write them down.

The other day we were eating at Baja Bud’s for lunch and Greta was on one side of the booth with Aaron and I was on the other side with Sawyer, Gunnar wasn’t here that day. Greta was eating some chips and one dropped on the booth seat, and before Sawyer could yell “STOP!” she put the chip in her mouth.

Sawyer: NO! GRETA! NO! Don’t eat that!!!

Greta: It’s just a chip Soso.

Me: Sawyer, why are you so upset sweetie? It’s okay, it’s not going to hurt her too bad, at least it didn’t fall on the floor.

Sawyer: OHHHH NOOOO!!!! Now she is going to get sick!

Greta: I am going to get sick?

Sawyer: Yes!

Me: Why is that so upsetting to you though?

Sawyer: Because I really wanted to play with her, and now she’ll be sick.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Greta had just awoken from her nap. She sleepily walked down the stairs and sat on the couch next to me. Taking a look around.

Greta: Mama, where are my boys?

Me: Who are your boys?

Greta: My boys are daddy, Gunnar, and Soso. Where are my boys?

Me: Oh, those boys. They are at Papa’s house watching a football game. 

Greta: I miss my boys.

On this particular afternoon Greta and I were playing with her dollhouse and her Prince and Cinderella figurine. I of course had to be the Prince while she was Cinderella. She learned some new phrases regarding princesses from her friend Maddie, they include words like “love”, “inlove”, “married”, etc. 

Greta: Oh, Prince. I will be inlove with you!

Me: Okay Cinderella, let’s dance in the ballroom.

Greta: Ok.

(the figurines dance and Cinderella proceeds to run away, leaving her glass slipper behind, you know the rest of the story)

Me: Shall we go back to our castle Cinderella?

Greta: Yes, we will now get married, I need to get my veil.

Me: Alright. 

Daddy then walked in the door and he came to over to take my place so I could make dinner. Within about 3 minutes I heard some heated arguing between the two of them.

It went something like this,

Greta: Daddy, you be the Prince and I’ll be Cinderella.

Aaron: Alright.

Greta: I will be inlove with you.

Aaron: No, let’s play it different, I don’t like love.

Greta: Yes, they have to be inlove and get married!

Aaron: Nah. Let’s do this. Ready?

Greta: What?

Aaron: Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Then the argument ensued.

family worship

I have to say I am loving this new addition to our routine. Each night we read the kids stories, and usually one of those is a lesson from the Great Teacher book or Bible Story, but I love dedicating an evening to our family study. The first week we did popcorn and a movie, and this week we invited another family over and the kids acted out one of the stories. I’ll give you some clues and hopefully you’ll be able to figure out which story this is.

Here are the THREE boys, standing.

You can see the fiery furnace in the background and the “guard” throwing one of them into the furnace.

She was very thorough, here she’s throwing another one into the furnace.

And here they are, all still alive, having survived their time in that fiery furnace. I didn’t get a shot of Greta when she died from being too close to the fire. She just laid down right on the floor and said, I’m dead.

Alright, so if any of you have read the Hebrew Scriptures you’ll by now know it was the three Hebrews who didn’t bow down. I think the kids enjoyed themselves, and so did we.

Santa Monica Pier

I have to admit, despite my hatred for Santa Monica, their carousel rocks. It’s one of the only redeeming qualities in my opinion. Maybe I lack appreciation since I am born and raised here, but I just don’t get the fascination with this city. It’s really gross. The air, beach, including the sand is so polluted I would never let my kids in that water. And just the streets are so grimy, not to mention the amount of homeless people. My list goes on, but the carousel at the pier, that I like.

When the boys took off for their “man trip” Greta and I met some friends down at the pier. The photos in the mirror, while the carousel was moving, were really difficult to get!

I just love the lights behind her on this one.

And this little boy is just gorgeous, I hope my friend doesn’t mind, but couldn’t resist.

And this daredevil!

story time

The boys love nights cold enough for a fire, and I have to admit, so do I. The best is the impromptu story time that happens by the fire. This particular evening Gunnar was the story reader and the kids just lounged around the blanket listening to their brother.