Hono Lulu

Every few days my son hits me up for $1 before school.

"What fer?" I say.

"Fer lunch," he says.

Turns out he pays that dollar to a friend, who then takes him to his house for a bowl of cereal.

Yesterday morning when he asked me for $1, I handed him a box of Frosted Flakes and said, "Don't forget the change."

Ba dum bum

(That was just my warm up, folks.)

You'll never believe in a billion years where I went last night.

I, Crash Test Dummy, went to a Trek hoedown. It wasn't a hoedown throwdown, but it was still SO. MUCH. FUN.

(Until I had to promenade across the gym with the Stake President and his wife approached us with the 8th commandment, poked my eyes out and said, "Uhhhh, that's MY partner!")

True story!

You don't really need your eyeballs to dance anyway, especially when you get demoted to dancing with deacons.

But seriously, once I got past the fact that Hannah Montana wasn't going to show up, it was SO. MUCH. FUN.

We didn't pop it or rock it or polka dot it, and we didn't countryfy it or hip hop it. We didn't even put our hawk in the sky or stick it, glide. Alls we did was the do-se-do and the pie alamode, and I pulled my calf muscle while swinging my partner round and round, but still . . . SO. MUCH.

Did I already say that?

Can't wait to do it in my aloha bonnet and bloomers.

As if my life isn't already exciting enough, GUESS WHAT ELSE!!? Guess! Guess! Guess!

Remember last Mother's Day/Birthday when I fell in puppy lub, and got my stone-cold heart all busted up? Remember?

Well, lookie what happened this Mother's Day/Birthday!

Meet Lulu.

Technically Lulu is her middle name. Her first name is Hono. (Get it? Honolulu. Hee hee hee. Sometimes I crack myself up.)


This will make a great book cover for our first autobiography, dontcha think?

Lulu is a pure bred Golden Retriever, and not only can she sit and lay (that would be lei for us Hawaiians) but she can also smile on command.

See:

HOW. CUTE. IS. SHE?

Even my daughter lubs her and she's never lubbed a dog in her life!


It's my hub's very very very first dog EVER!

Kudo to my twins for making the whole thing happen. Everybody had a dream to fulfill when we moved to Utah and this was their dream. They earned the money and shopped the KSL adds every single darn day until they found our perfect match. They even called and arranged the sale. And now they are truly, madly, deeply in puppy lub!



I can tell she's a girl because my 13 yr. old is already exercising his hypnotic powers over her.



Alls I know is that Li'l Lulu kicks booty on the puppy we gave our twins for Christmas.





Happy Mother's Day everyone!

Gratitude and blankets

I'm 34 pages into New Moon and I've nearly strangled Bella at least a dozen times.

BELLA! You're killing me! Fer real! Must you be such a mopester? Must you be such a sour puss? It's you're birthday, for goodness sakes! Where's your attitude of gratitude?

I am so hoping Edward smacks her silly soon!

Maybe I am just a bit impatient with Bella because I'm tired. Tired of feeling like this at my twin's baseball games.


And tired of seeing my daughter like this.


Mother Nature, haven't you heard? It's MAY, gosh darnit!

I'm also a little tired of hearing my hub and my IL's murmurmurmurmurmur like Lamen and Lemual at the umpire. If I was going to murmur like Lamen and Lemual I would direct it at the coach:

"DUDE! Why is my son playing left field? (murmurmurmurmurmur) Dontcha know there ain't no action way out in left field? Why would you place a kid who wears his baseball cap to bed way out in left field? (murmurmurmurmurmur)

And why would you place a kid who wears his batting helmet to dinner at the end of the batting lineup? (murmurmurmurmurmur) Dontcha know all those kids who strike out in front of him ain't gonna unload those bases for ya?

But I'm no sour puss, and my attitude is full of gratitude, so I keep my trap shut.

Helk, I'm just THANKFUL I have blankets to keep me warm (in MAY), and to muffle the sound of my voice box when I grumble against the coach.

Speaking of gratitude and blankets . . . (WARNING: Abrupt shift of tone ahead!)


Kritta finished The Magic Quilt!!!!!!

For those of you who don't know about The Magic Quilt, it's a comforting blanket, made (with lub) from pieces of fabric sent (with lub) from my readers. Each piece of fabric represents a story of healing and comfort and triumph over tragedy, all recorded on themagicquilt.blogspot.com.

Together we have formed the YA YA sisterhood of the magic traveling quilt. In other words, we will follow this quilt around (whispering YA YA) as it magically heals everyone it touches.

Soooo EXCITED!

So do you want to see it? Do you? Do you? Do you?

Isn't it loverly!?

It was even loverly-er after I sprinkled it with pixie dust and serenaded it with Mozart.


You wanna know what Kritta did special that gave me major chicken skin when my eyeballs beheld the quilt?

She sewed the names of all those who not only donated fabric and shared their stories, but also those who are following the project via The Magic Quilt blog.

Like this:





Does that put a lump in your throat the size of Vermont, or what?

You wanna see my name?


MUCH MAHALO KRITTA!

It makes me verklempt to see everyone's quilt blocks side by side because these blocks represent their stories. I lub looking at everyone else's stories all mixed up with my stories.

That's the magic.

Lookie, here's Andrea's blocks from her Surrounded in Love entry.

And here is Springrose's block from her She loved Me Most entry.

It's right next to Sandi's block from her Safe in His Arms entry. (Sandi, you've got a great big square on the back of the quilt too.)

The following block chokes me up most. It's from Anjeny's entry Finding Comfort. It contains extra special magical powers because she actually took it from her mother's favorite skirt. Her entry, and the fact that her mother passed away three or four years ago, made this donation exceptionally powerful to me.


There are so many other uplifting stories, but the photos turned out blurry and now my camera battery is dead so I'm going to let you look them up yourself.

Since our first recipient is now in remission (thank goodness) from her breast cancer, who should we give it to? Who? Who? Who?

Any ideas?

I'm not accepting nominations.

Kritta has enough material to make one more magic quilt, and I just bought a sewing machine for $25--kinda felt attached to it after it sewed the Big Dipper into my thumb (if that's not a sign from the universe, I don't know what is)--so I'm gonna start quilting with magic too. If anyone out there wants to help sew or donate fabric, alls you have to do is light a candle, turn on some Mozart and say YA YA thirteen times.

And then cuall me, we'll tualk.

You might want to email me too because I lose my phone a lot.

More details coming soon.

P.S. Happy Nurses Day today!

It's about stinkin' time!

When I was twelve I began begging my mom incessantly for permission to get my ears pierced.

She refused, because she was mean like that.

Her rule was fourteen so I had to wait, and what a miserable wait it was. For both of us.

"I will never use such cruel and unusual punishment on my daughter!" I screamed at her on a daily basis.

And I meant it. I was willing AND ready to be a cool mom to my daughter.

But my daughter showed no interest in me being cool. Or in getting her ears pierced. Not even when I dropped hints or suggestions or got down on my hands and knees and begged.

"I don't feel like it right now," she would say.

"Well, hows about a tattoo?" I would say. "A shaka tattoo! Or a plumeria! Or a cute little dophin!"

She wasn't interested in getting a tattoo either.

Which is why yesterday was such a special day.

Yesterday morning my daughter said, "Mom, will you take me to get my ears pierced after school?"

"Will I! Will I! Will I!" I cried.

No, literally, I cried.

But she didn't. She didn't even wince. She just sat there in her daddy's college t-shirt and grinned.

I tried to convince her to get vampire fangs or daggers or skull and bones, but she just went with little diamond studs.

YAWN!!!

Something else made yesterday special! The Magic Quilt arrived from Kritta--WOOOHOOO!--which produced massive chicken skin and major crocodile tears from me!

Photographic evidence coming tomorrow (after I finish sprinkling it with pixie dust and serenading it with Mozart).

Cooking-off, all ladylike.

Now that I've broken my silence about my Sponge Bob ward, can I just say that I don't lub being the YW Prez! Responsibility makes me itchy, as does bossing people around, Sunday morning meetings, and pretending to be a good example. 

That being said, I lub being the YW Prez. 

But only because I lub my girlz. And I LUB my YW leaders and advisors. I actually look forward to my board meetings in the secret room off the stage. Something about that secret room makes us feel like we're having a slumber party and we giggle so much it almost feels like we're breaking the sabbath. 

My Laurel advisors are da bombdiggity! 

Do you want to meet them?

This is Marie and Jamie. (Jamie had her first kiss (to her current hub) in my basement (when she was a teenager). (I think it was just a peck on the cheek).

Could we be sistahs, or what?

These photos were taken at the Laurel/Priest cook-off last week.  

The priests are competitive.  And hungry.  But the laurels kicked booty! 

I forced the priests at gunpoint to wear my IKEA apron.  (hee hee hee)

I forced the Laurels at gunpoint too.  (hee hee)  This is Isabel. She's my favorite. 

After Mariah. 

Mariah is my favorite.

I mean Brianne is my favorite.

Marie, you don't scare me with that spatula! And no, you're not my favorite.

Jessica is my favorite. 

After Jenny.  Jenny is my fav fav favorite. 

She knows how to make a dainty burger. 

Can you see why the laurels kicked booty?  

We know how to cook-off like ladies!