Matthew's 1st sermon

I decided to put Matthew's sermon on my blog because I know of some people that were not able to be with us this morning at St. Paul's who would like to read it. So here it is...enjoy...

There is no greater event in the history of the world than the birth of Jesus Christ.

What a marvelous way the Lord became a man and entered this world. God, the Son, came to this earth "born of a woman."

In today’s gospel, Gabriel tells Mary the Holy Spirit will come upon her and God's power will overshadow her and she will conceive a child. Christ's birth was a miracle in every respect. A young Jewish maid who was a virgin would conceive by the power of God and would bear a child.

There are many aspects of the miracle birth of Christ we could look at but I want to look at who Mary was, the maiden chosen by God to be the earthly mother of Jesus Christ.

 Who Was Mary?

The Bible presents her as a young Jewish girl who was engaged to a devout Jewish carpenter named Joseph.

I think in most ways she was an ordinary young woman. What made the difference in her life was her attitude towards God. What made her available to be used of God was her commitment to Him.

The proof of that is that when she heard the truth and God's plan she immediately accepted it. That showed her heart.

I want to put all of you in Mary’s shoes. I want you all to imagine being an unmarried, teenage virgin who has just had the weight of the world placed on your shoulders. Under Old Testament law, it was a capital offense to have a child out of wedlock. You will suffer great embarrassment. You will be alienated and shunned by those around you who were once your friends because you are with child and do not have a husband. You must tell the man that you are engaged to that you are with child, but did not in any way betray him, knowing that he, as well as your parents will not believe you. All Joseph has to do is accuse you of being unfaithful and you will be stoned to death in the streets.

Wow! Talk about some pressure. My biggest challenge right now is passing my classes and juggling girlfriends. I don’t think it quite compares does it?

Mary’s life was about to get extremely difficult and change forever. Yet in spite of it all, she accepted this difficulty as God’s will. She realized the importance of what was about to happen and accepted her role as the mother of the savior.

Now that we have looked at this from Mary’s point of view, let’s stop and think about how Joseph must have felt during this whole ordeal.

When Joseph realizes that Mary is pregnant, I am sure he felt betrayed, hurt and angry. Seeing her carrying a child could only mean one thing, she must have had relations with another man.

If he accuses Mary of adultery, she will be stoned to death in the streets. His decision to not accuse her shows that he truly cares for her and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her even though he has been hurt by her actions (or at least what he thinks her actions have been)

It is during a dream that Joseph is told the truth and realizes that Mary has not betrayed him and that the baby she is carrying was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit.

He takes Mary as his wife and claims the child as his own.

We have all heard this story before and have memorized the sequence of events, but have we really stopped to think about how Joseph must have felt?

He decided to claim this child and love him as his own. Not a decision to be taken lightly. Not a decision that every man would have been comfortable with.

This is something that I can personally relate to, something that is very close to my heart.

To be technical and where DNA is concerned, my brother Joshua is my half brother. Where love and family are concerned, he is my brother, simple as that.

In my dad’s eyes, Joshua is no different than the rest of us. He is my dad’s oldest child. DNA doesn’t make you a parent, love does.

In fact without Joshua, I wouldn’t have a family because my dad knew that if he wanted to be Joshua’s dad, he had to take my mom.

So, today as we await the celebration of the birth of Jesus, I ask that you take a moment to think about what Mary and Joseph had to endure to change the world for the better. As we thank God for sending us Jesus, let us also thank Him for choosing Mary and Joseph to be His parents because without them, things may have turned out very differently.

Amen

Wow! I Didn't Expect That To Happen!

So, last weekend was my mom and dad's 50th class reunion. I remember reading something about it in the paper, but forgot (probably because neither one of them was here to go). I was sitting on the couch reading when there was a knock at the door. One of the wives of a classmate of my parents was at the door. The reunion committee made little bouquets for the classmates that have died. She handed me to small coke bottles (Which is so cool because my mom was addicted to coke. I don't think she was ever without a can of coke or a cigarette!) with a small arrangement of carnations inside. Tied around the bottle was a card that said 'In memory of" with their senior class picture and then the dates of their birth and death.

When she handed them to me, I didn't expect the emotions to come flooding in, but oh boy did they ever! I started to cry when I looked at them, gave her a hug and thanked her for bringing them to me. All of a sudden, this sense of sadness and extreme loss overwhelmed me. You see, I have been mourning my dad for over a year now and my sadness over the loss of my mom has kind of been placed on the back burner. Not that I forgot about her or anything, but a new sense of grief has in a way taken over. At that moment, it was like a crashing wave hit me and knocked me over. "Oh my God! I miss her so much!" I had buried that pain away and was dealing with a new one. In that moment, all of the grief, sorrow, heartache and devastation came flooding back into my mind. It was if I was right there in that awful time back in November of 2005 when my whole world came crashing down around me. Needless to say, I have been quite emotional the last couple of days.

I refuse to wallow in self pity. I can hear my mother now. "Get off your ass! Do something productive. I raised you to be strong! A pity party never works. It just makes you feel worse and it makes everyone around you want to kick your ass. Nobody likes a whiner!"

Okay mom, you win! I am off to do something productive with my day. I love you and miss you more than I could ever express in words. You are always with me and I can move forward because I know that we will see each other again. Until then, I will hold you in my heart. Oh and save a Diet Pepsi for me okay? You know I always thought coke tasted like shit!

Rant of the Day: Park City, Land of Idiots!

Park City!!! Land of idiots!

So, yesterday I took 3 of my children to Park City to do a little school shopping. It was actually kind of a bust, but I did manage to get Sam's shopping done except for his shoes. Anyway, it was crowded and hot. I am always amazed at how rude people are when I go to Utah. Now don't even start with me about slamming people from Utah. I am sure people are rude everywhere. I go to Utah, therefore I experience first hand the rudeness of some of the people in Utah. If I went to Missouri, I would comment on their attitudes, but since I shop in Utah, I comment about them. So, if you are from Utah, stop reading now because I am about to SLAM Park City and the people that were there on Thursday August 4th. As I have stated before, this is my blog and I can say whatever I want. If you don't like it then don't read it.

As I was saying, yesterday we hopped in the car and went to Park City to get some shopping done. We started our little adventure at TJ Maxx. Now I love TJ Maxx for the prices, but I HATE having to search through the racks. I am probably the most impatient person I know. I don't really know what happened to me in the last 6 years. I used to LOVE to shop! I remember shopping with my mom. We would shop for hours upon hours, store after store; we could sense a bargain from miles away and swoop in, attack the hell out of it and re-surface with some great finds! When she died, it was like my love for shopping went right along with her. I don't really enjoy it much anymore which is sad because my daughter is kind of missing out.

TJ Maxx...Sam found some pants and shirts, so for him it was a success! Right next door to Smith's is Michael's. Now for those of you who do not know what Michael's is, it is a crafty person's paradise! I went into Michael's because I was trying to find some paper cut outs of flip flops. I have decided to change the whole theme of my classroom this year. Last year was super shitty, so I have decided to start completely fresh...new theme! So, I decided to go with the beach, after all I am a California girl. I haven't lived in CA in 17 1/2 years, but deep down, she is still there. I remember her. The blond (yes I was blondish), tanned girl who never wanted to leave, who knew that CA was the best place on earth and that if you didn't live there, somehow your life was lacking. Funny what happens when we grow up and mature huh? Anyway, do you think I could find paper cutouts of flip flops? NO NO NO NO NO!!! The cute little sales girl who was helping me finally says, "You know what you could do? Buy some foam, cut them out, use some ribbons for the straps...you could totally make your own!" The excitement in her voice over foam flip flops was a little sickening! I set out to find foam because right about now I'm a little discouraged knowing I am never going to find what I want. The whole time I am thinking to myself, "Who the hell do I look like? Martha-freakin-Stewart? I don't have time for this shit! I still have 16 chair pockets to finish! Anyway, I bought the foam and ribbon and then informed Gabby and Sam that they would be making flip flops this weekend! Here it comes, here it comes...the whining..."Why do we have to do it?"
"Because I gave birth to you, therefore I own you and you will do as I say! Why do you think I had children? Someone has to do the dishes, pick up dog poop, vacuum and make foam flip flops!"

Keep in mind, we are only about an hour into this shopping expedition and we haven't even hit the outlet mall yet! At this point, I am thinking that I really should have brought another friend with me! Ya, that's right I should have brought the Captain! After yesterday, the Captain travels with me at all times! He has become my faithful sidekick and goes wherever I go! Nik and the Captain...yup, that's us!

Next stop...Park City Outlet Mall!!! This is where the rant starts! This is where I shake my head at the stupidity of some people. What in the hell are those stupid, artsy, fartsy, have to drive in a circle instead of just turning left things before you enter the outlet mall? It's like someone thought it would be neat to have a big round concrete structure with pretty plants and flowers to drive around. I am not here to look at the scenery! If I want scenery, I will drive into the mountains. Or, if you really want your flowers, put them at the side of the road, they don't need to be in the middle of the road. As I am driving around the circle (enjoying the scenery) I notice it...he is there every time I come here...he hasn't moved...and he looks ridiculous...the big, red moose welcoming me into the shopping center! I am not even going to start about the stupid, red moose because that could take up a whole entire blog! I drive past Bullwinkle and head to the upper part of the mall...Old Navy, Nike, Aeropostale...her we come.

The place is packed. People are everywhere. There must have been a soccer tournament somewhere because I have never seen so many soccer players in my life! They were everywhere! I thought it might have been an invasion of some sort, but they were all kids and their parents seemed to be spending a lot of money, so I knew I was probably safe. As I drove to the upper part of the mall, and this is where it gets good, this is where you will find stupidity at its finest, I notice yellow caution tape roping off the parking lot. The parking spaces are empty. You cannot park in the upper lot (well they had a few where you could park, but of course they were all full). So, now we have to drive around the parking lot and back down to the lower lot to find a parking spot.

Here is my bitch...The mall was packed! When do most people do their back-to-school shopping? When? What did I hear you say? Oh did you say August? Ya, that's what I would have said too! So, who is the complete moron that decided that August would be a great time to re-surface a parking lot? Let's choose one of the busiest shopping months of the year and resurface the parking lot, making hundreds of parking spaces unavailable. Great idea dumb ass! You are probably the same person who thought the artsy, fartsy, circly thing would be cute huh? Jackwagon!

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind walking. I have no problem walking around the mall, but I do have a problem with having to carry giant shopping bags throughout the mall. We finally found a parking space, walked up to the upper part of the mall, did some shopping and headed back down. I know I just gave you a really short version of what took hours, but basically it was people shoving people, people tearing through clothing like they were starving Ethiopians looking for a morsel of food. I couldn't believe how they just left things in shambles. There were clothes on the floor, piles of items that were folded at one time and now had been thrown in a heap on a table. Kids running through the store unsupervised! This is the biggest bitch I have! If you aren't going to watch your kids, then leave them at home! Now, I obviously love kids or I wouldn't have the job that I do. But, holy shit, there must have been a brat convention to go along with the soccer invasion!

We made our way down to the lower part of the mall and stopped in at Famous Footwear. I always buy the kids school shoes at Famous because every August they have a buy one got one half. We walk in and it is ZOO! People everywhere. We had to hurdle a girl trying on shoes in the doorway! I found a sales girl and asked her if they were having a BOGO. Without making eye contact she says, "No, we don't do BOGO's because we are an outlet store. If you want a BOGO, you can shop online or go to Salt Lake." Usually, I would have come back with a smart ass comment, but I was tired and by the looks of the store, she had probably had a rough day and was more than likely expecting me to make some bitchy comment. I had the kids do an about face and we headed out the door. Luckily, the girl trying on shoes had moved and we didn't have to use our mad hurdling skills again!

After walking for what seemed like hours, we could finally see the car again! Sam and Michael took the bags to the car while Gabby and I went into Claires. Claires was, by far, the best part of the day. You see, Gabby has not been aloud to wear earrings for a really long time. When she had her ears pierced, she had an allergic reaction to the earrings and developed really thick scar tissue in her earlobes. We took her to a plastic surgeon who got rid of most of the scar tissue, but she can't ever wear earrings again (the likelihood of it happening again is too great). Anyway, we found some really cute clip on earrings. She tried on her earrings in the car and was so excited. The smile on her face made everything else we had been through during the Park City shopping trip from Hell well worth it!

Michael didn't share our excitement for the earrings. "Because Gabby is a girl, mom thinks she needs accessories! What's the big deal about accessories anyway? Claires is the dumbest store ever!"

As we pulled out of our parking space, I was happy that my daughter was so thrilled with her earrings. I was also happy to be going home. I looked in the rear view mirror at Gabby trying on another pair of earrings; smiling from ear to ear...then I saw him...that stupid, ugly, holding a shopping bag, giant, red moose...the days events flooded my mind, playing over and over like a movie...as I changed lanes, cutting off the asshole who wouldn't let me get over...which was kind of funny because I am driving a Ford Excursion. You're driving a Prius...I am switching lanes, whether you let me or not...You can choose to be courteous or I can total your car...I am bigger than you, I have insurance, and I have had my fill of inconsiderate people today...he hit his brakes when I moved over into the other lane...Good choice jackass!

We are almost out of the parking lot! Thank God! I can get back to my little town where there is less traffic, less crowds, and no stupid artsy, fartsy, circly things or giant read moose staring at me. With Gabby still looking at her earrings, and Michael bitching about accessories, I slowly and rather meanly, gave that ugly, red, I-hope-you-enjoyed-your-shopping-trip-come-back- again, stupid looking moose the finger! "Kiss my ass moose! This shopping center sucks! You won't see me again! I have learned my lesson! Ogden is the place for me! I hope you meet up with a really angry hunter someday, asshole! Oh, and another thing, do you know how many people laugh and say that they know God has a sense of humor because of the way you look?"

Yup...Uh huh! I told him what's up! For those of you keeping score...Me: one! Ugly, red moose: ZERO!

Back to School

Well, it is official, tomorrow is my first meeting of the school year. I think it has something to do with Phonics. You'd think I would know what the topic of the meeting is huh? Truth is, I haven't really thought about it. This summer has gone by so quickly. In three short weeks, I must go back to work. I have meetings before then, but three weeks is when I officially start; the date listed on my contract.

I have the absolute best job in the world! Vacations and summers off with my kids! Just kidding! That really has nothing to do with why I became a teacher and why I love my job so much. You see, teaching isn't a job (and not trying to sound corny or cliche here), it is a passion, it is a part of me; something I know in my heart I am supposed to do. I think that if you were to ask a teacher, a good teacher, why they went into this profession, you would get a similar answer. We don't do it for the pay or because it is such an easy job! I always get quite offended when I hear people say what an easy job being a teacher is. Really?

My contract states that I have to be at school from 8:30 a.m. to 3:55 p.m. daily. (don't quote me on those hours, I could be a few minutes off) I do not know very many teachers that leave the building before 4:30 p.m. every day. I also know a lot of us that spend time at school on the weekends. We spend time at home in the evenings preparing lessons, grading papers, working on report cards. I am not mentioning this to get a pat on the back or to brag about the extra hours I put in. I am merely trying to illustrate that the average teacher puts in a lot of extra hours outside of school.

For me, it is impossible to teach my group of kindergartners for 175 days and not become attached to them. I learn so much about them and get to know them so well. I know when something is bothering them. I know what worries them, frightens them, excites them, makes them happy and what makes them sad. I learn a lot about their homes, their parents, their siblings, their family. I always try to remember to tell parents that I will only believe half of what I hear about them, if they will only believe half of what they hear about me! haha! I have heard some pretty funny stories! I have lost sleep about the student who doesn't want to go home at the end of the day because school is where he feels safe, school is the only stability in his life. I give a hug and the reassurance that I will be there tomorrow. You see, I am not just a teacher. I am a nurse, a protector, a second mom, a cheerleader, a bug killer, a singer, a comedienne, an actress, a friend and for some kids, the only stable thing they can count on each day.

I love being a teacher and will not settle for being an okay teacher or a mediocre teacher. Hell, I won't even settle for being a good teacher. I want to be a GREAT teacher.

I have always been hard on myself. I have always pushed myself to be perfect. I remember learning to jump rope. I cannot even begin to estimate the number of hours I stayed outside in the backyard practicing over and over again until I could do it! I recall hours and hours at the batting cages working on my hitting, endless hours of fielding ground balls, sitting on the floor at home setting a volleyball above my head, over and over, until I had it right! I have always been this way. Driven. Determined. Ambitious.

These three traits can be good, but they can also lead to hospitalization in a mental institution. Because let's face it folks, no matter how hard I work or how hard I try, I will never be perfect. It isn't possible. Despite knowing this, it is what I strive for. Before you ask, NO I have never been institutionalized! LOL

I am always wanting to improve. If I feel I am weak in an area, I will seek out someone better than me and I will find help. I know that there is always room for improvement and I can always grow as a teacher. Don't get me wrong, when I do something well, I can acknowledge it, but I always know that something can be better.

If I ever get to a point in my teaching career that I feel I have learned it all and I am as good as I can be, it is time to move on. There will never be a time when I know all that there is to know. I will always learn and always grow.

So, as I sit here thinking about the upcoming school year, I am excited. Excited to meet my new kinders, excited to start another year, excited to work with two of the most wonderful women in the world on a daily basis, and excited to start fresh; to put last year away and move on. This year will be better. It is already better than last year. At this point last year, I had recently buried my dad and was finding out that I was going to have a difficult and painful surgery that would take me about 8 months to recover from. So, I am already ahead of the game (knock on wood) and looking forward to starting fresh.

Aspen Elementary Kindergarten 2011-2012...her we come...LET'S GET READY TO RUUUUUUMMMMMBBBBBLLLLLLEEEEE!!!!!

Standing Up For Me

I have always been the type of person to avoid confrontation. I will avoid an argument or an uncomfortable situation at all costs, when it has to do with me. I'm not good at standing up for myself or stating my opinion. Now, keep in mind this is only when it directly involves me. You mess with my family, especially my kids, and I will unleash. That's when momma bear comes out to protect and believe me, it ain't always pretty. Just ask some of the staff members at Evanston Middle School! hahahaha!

Well, somehow that kind of changed this past week. I have to say that although the confrontation I had makes me somewhat sad, I am extrememly proud of myself for standing up for me, stating my opinion and for refusing to be put down and walked on. I do not need to get into details over what happened; that can stay private, but something changed in me this past week. I learned that there is no shame in stating what I believe, in stopping someone from making me out to be someone I am not, in standing up for ME! I bet my mom is dancing in circles with her cigarette and coke shouting, "YES! IT'S ABOUT GODDAMN TIME!"

You see, I am a lot like my mom in this area. She was the same way. She wouldn't really stand up for herself, but if you messed with one of her kids or grandkids, you'd better run, run as fast as you can and never look back because she's coming, she's coming after you, not like some crazed, psychotic lunatic, (well I have to admit, there were times that she could look like a crazed, psychotic lunatic. Ask Alan about the time he was in the car accident! LMAO!) but like... its hard to explain...Here is a great example...

One time when my parents were watching Josh while I was out shopping, someone threatened to take him out of the house. My mother, very calmly said, "pick up that baby, and you will be dead before you get to the door." I can picture it and I can hear her voice. It would have been very frightening. She wouldn't have sounded angry, she wouldn't have raised her voice. You see, it was not a threat; she was stating a mere fact of what would happen. I don't think anybody in the room doubted for one second that what she said wasn't true. I know the person at the house didn't doubt it for a second because Josh was left on the floor as this person quietly exited the house.

To me, this is ten times scarier than her crazed lunatic personality. She remained calm. No anger, no tension. She just matter of factly stated what would happen; showing little emotion...

My mom has been gone for almost six years and there are days when I feel like she is so far away and days when I feel her so close to me. This past week, I have felt her presence a lot. I know that she would be so happy that I have finally learned to ALWAYS follow my gut in situations where I am uncomfortable. I know that she is smiling at the fact that I stood up for myself and spoke my mind (one of the few times in my life). And I must admit, it felt really good.

I hope that I can remember how good this feels. I want my daughter to see that it's okay to speak your mind and stand up for yourself when you feel you are being personally attacked. My dad always told me to avoid confrontation at all costs."Confrontation is bad!" he used to always say. I do try to avoid confrontation, but there are times when a confrontation is unavoidable. It is not okay to be someone's verbal punching bag! It is not okay to let someone put you down! It is okay to stand up for yourself! It is okay to put someone in his/her place if they need it.

I am Nikki Snow...HEAR ME ROAR!!! hahahahahahaha!!!!

My Family

I have finally decided (ya I've known this for a long time) that my family is dysfunctional, inappropriate, crazy, and sometimes disturbed, but I love them with every fiber of my being and wouldn't trade them for anything in the world!

I have always wanted a big family. I had a family that I was very close to when I was in my early 20's. There were people in and out of that house all the time. We never knocked on the door, helped ourselves to whatever was in the fridge; made ourselves at home. I knew that was how I wanted my house to be someday. A place where my kid's friends were comfortable, a home away from home. I am very happy that my home is that place. There are usually, at least, 10- 12 kids (counting my own) at my house at any given time. I love it! I love how friends will come over even when my kids aren't here. They sit and talk or grab something to eat. They have become our extended family. They will carry in groceries, sweep the floor, take the trash out, etc. I treat them like I treat my own... There have been many times when Rich and I have gotten up to have coffee early on a Saturday morning and as I am stepping over sleeping bodies in the living room, I will ask, "Who the hell is that?" to which Rich replies, "I have no idea."

Now, those of you who know me, know that I am not the "Leave it to Beaver" mom...I am not the "Brady Bunch" mom...I am more like Roseanne...

I love to tease my kids. In fact there is a lot of teasing that goes on in this house. I have a mouth like a truck driver (not proud of this, but its me, take it or leave it). I love to laugh! Sometimes the laughter comes from something being said that is totally inappropriate, but its funny!

Let me correct that...most of the time the laughter is from something completely inappropriate! My kids know that they are loved beyond measure! Through all of the joking and teasing, they know that there is nothing I wouldn't do for them. They know that I will always have their back. They know that they can come to me about anything and we will work it out. They know that I will always be their biggest fan.

Josh will be a senior this year. He plans to go to college next fall, so it looks like we have about a year left with him at home. You know what this means right? Yup, you guessed it. We are running out of time to give him shit! To tease him! We better get busy!

Anyway, if you are not familiar with my house and decide to stop by one day, there are a few things you should probably know.
First off, and this is probably the most important, DO NOT RING THE DOORBELL! Nobody rings the doorbell. Everyone walks in.

The second thing you should know is that our house is lived in. It is not spotless. It looks like a lot of people are in and out of here daily. If clutter bothers you, then you probably shouldn't come over.

Number three: Make yourself at home. You will not be given special treatment. If you are hungry or thirsty, get it yourself. I will not wait on you. There are too many people in this house for em to do that and like I said earlier, I am not June Cleaver.

I wouldn't change my family for anything in the world. We may be dysfunctional, but we are a family that loves each other, supports each other, argues, fights, and teases. They may be crazy and inappropriate, but you know what? They are MINE! And I love them with all that I am and all that I have. They are my greatest accomplishment! They are my biggest success!

Thought of the Day

It feels like there has been a lot of death in my life lately. I lost my dad a year ago. My children's Godmother, Roxey Ellingford in March, my sister and brother, Shar and Steve, lost Steve's brother Bill in June. Bobbi Meyer in July, and there have been high school friends of my husband's and parents of friends.

I know that as I get older, it is expected that there will be more loss of life because as I get older, so do others. Time marches on. My parents both died fairly young and as time passes, I know that I will hear of the passing of the parents of childhood friends. Regardless of who it is, that death will undoubtedly bring sorrow into the lives of loved ones. Death is a fact of life and something that we will all experience through losing those we love and through experiencing it first hand one day, but that doesn't make it any easier to handle. It is still hard, sad, and at times absolutely unbearable.

A couple weeks ago, I attended the funeral of Bobbi Meyer. Bobbi fought a long, hard battle with cancer. She kicked its ass! I didn't know Bobbi very well, but am very close to her parents Terry and Neta Jenkins and absolutely love to tease her brother, Chris! Chris and I seem to have that sibling relationship of giving each other shit, but I know that Chris would be there for me if I needed him and vice versa! Anyway, as I sat at Bobbi's funeral listening to people speak about her, looking around seeing all of the people who were there, it is so obvious that Bobbi made a huge impact on those around her. Not once did I ever hear her complain about her illness; not one pity party. She was and still is an inspiration to so many.

I know that Neta is grieving and as a mom, I cannot imagine the pain she is feeling by having to bury a child. This is not the "natural" order of things. Neta was at Bobbi's side through this whole fight which was difficult enough, but to have this outcome on top of it, is unbearable. Neta is a very strong woman and I wish I could take away her pain.

Some of you know the special bond I shared with my father, regarding the beach. I remember being a little girl and looking out at the ocean from the end of the pier. It is really strange how certain conversations and occurrences burn a spot in your brain, not allowing you to ever forget.

I was looking at the horizon and was curious about how the ocean just ends. It stops. I asked my dad about it.

"Daddy, out there where the ocean ends, is there a wall or does the water just fall off?"
" The water doesn't stop. It looks like it stops because that is as far as your eye can see,
but it keeps going."
"Keeps going where? What is out there?"
"More water, more land, and probably another little girl with her daddy, standing on
a pier looking at the same water. She is probably wondering the same thing you are.
About what happens where the ocean ends."

Not really an earth shattering conversation, but it wasn't until years later that I received a pamphlet from a hospice nurse with a story written by Henry Van Dyke that brought that conversation back as clear as day.

SIDE NOTE: Before I post that story, I have to say that I don't believe in coincidence. I believe things happen for a reason. I believe that I get signs from my parents all the time. I believe that I get signs from God, in subtle ways and when He is irritated because I am not listening, he "thumps" me on the forehead to get my attention.

When the hospice nurse handed me the pamphlets and information, I glanced at them and pushed them aside. My dad didn't seem sick and it he certainly didn't look like he needed hospice. (He was eventually taken off of hospice because he was doing so well).

It wasn't until after he died that I really looked at the information. When I cam across the story by Henry Van Dyke, I read it and sobbed (I remembered liking it the first time I glanced at it, but this time it had a much bigger affect) because I knew that this story was not "just a story". It was a reminder, maybe from my dad, maybe from God, that my dad was okay. But it is the topic of the story that made such an impact with me....you will understand why...

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says:
"There she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at that moment when someone at my side says, "There she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"HERE SHE COMES!"
And that is dying.

Henry Van Dyke

So, when we lose a loved one, they are not gone. They are simply out of our sight. Of course, this is not the same and it would be much better if they never left in the first place, but this was so comforting to me. I truly believe that my mom, my uncle, and many others were there waiting for my dad, and when he appeared they all shouted, "HERE HE COMES!" What an amazing reunion that must have been!

I will continue to miss the ones we have lost. I will continue to pray for the ones who are hurting. And I will definitely continue to believe that we will see them again someday. We will have that glorious reunion. So for now it sucks being apart and not having them here to share our lives, but they are okay...they are much better than okay! On my down days, I find comfort in this knowledge. I hope that you do too.

The Trial of the Year

Yesterday a jury in Florida found Casey Anthony not guilty of the murder of her two year old daughter, Caylee. Minutes after the verdict was read, there were feelings of shock, disgust, anger, and elation (mainly by the defense team). It is important to point out that not guilty and innocent are not the same thing. Not guilty can mean that the jury believes the defendant, but it can also mean that the case was "not proven". I am in no way going to bad mouth the jury of this trial. It would be very hard to be on jury where I am responsible for determining the life of a young woman. Regardless of what my gut told me, I would have to abide by the law.

As I was watching the news yesterday, an alternate juror was speaking to a news reporter over the phone. He stated that the prosecution never gave them a motive as to why she would kill her child. The body was also badly decomposed and little evidence was found. Had they found the body earlier, maybe things would have been different. It is very difficult to win a case with circumstantial evidence and little to no hard proof.

Regardless, all I know is that Casey Anthony did not behave like a mother who had a missing child. I think this is the main part of this whole situation that is so troubling to me. I once lost Sam at Disneyland for about 30 seconds. In those 30 seconds, I was completely panicked and about to have a nervous breakdown! 30 SECONDS!!! This little girl was missing for 30 days before Casey Anthony told anybody. During those 30 days, she lied about her daughter's whereabouts, partied with friends, got a tattoo... If your daughter was missing, wouldn't you report it immediately? "Hmmm...I wonder where Caylee is? Maybe I'll go get drunk and give her some time to find her way home." Holy shit lady she's not a puppy! "Well, she's still not home, so I think I'll go get a tattoo." Finally, she admits that Caylee is missing and then its one bullshit lie after another.

As a mother, I would die for my kids. I would kill for my kids. Not kill as in "my daughter didn't make the cheerleading squad so I'm gonna murder the girl's mother who did", like that crazy bitch in Texas a few years back. But as in, if my kids were in grave danger, I would have no problem. I have two very big fears (besides skunks). The first one is losing one of my kids. I would never get over it and it would destroy me. My biggest fear is that one of my kids would go missing and I would never know what happened. Not knowing if they are alive, not knowing where they are...it would be unbearable. This is where I have the huge issue with Casey Anthony. Your daughter is "supposedly" missing and you don't tell anyone? Your choice was to party and have a good time? Who would do that? She knew exactly where her little girl was. Now I am not here to say whether she killed her or not, but I do believe she knows exactly what happened to little Caylee.

The trial is now over, the jury has made their decision and more than likely, Casey Anthony will walk out of the courtroom Thursday morning a free woman. Free to sell her story to the many organizations anxiously waiting to offer her large sums of money. And, people will be waiting to buy the book, watch the made for TV movie in the hopes of finding out what happened to this little girl. Well, we will never know what really happened. Not only has Casey lied repeatedly, but so has her family. What would be nice is for everyone to walk away and not give this family anymore media attention, but let's face it that is never going to happen. I can say that I will not put one penny towards a tell all book or even a magazine article.

May Caylee Marie Anthony rest in peace. She did not die in vain because one day someone will have to answer for what they did. I am so sorry that the people that should have protected you didn't. I am so sorry that justice has not been served because whoever harmed you is walking free. I am so sorry that you will never grow up. I am so sorry that you will never experience the wonderful things life has to offer. And I am so sorry that you were not loved and cherished the way you should have been. Fly with the angels little one...you are gone, but may you never be forgotten.

Nik's Rant of the Day

Skunks...I fear them...I seriously fear them...Along with this fear comes a deep hatred down in the bottom of my soul. First and foremost, I will state that a skunk is not one of God's creatures; it has no soul. It is of the devil. The God I know, would never torture His children by creating this smelly, disgusting night dwelling weasel with the ability to spray oily stinky shit out of its ass (I know it doesn't actually come from their ass, but it sounded better than saying, "spray oily stinky shit out of the scent sacks that are near their anus").

I have personal experiences with skunks. My beloved dog, Jack, killed two skunks during his lifetime. Each time he killed one, it turned to spray him right before he shook it to pieces, thus spraying him in the process. The last skunk he killed, sprayed not only him, but the house too. The horrible odor woke me up out of a sound sleep. The stench permeated the walls and seeped into the house! It was awful! I remember putting a ton of Vicks above my upper lip to try and drown out that smell.

The amazing thing to me is that my family slept through it! Really? I remember waking Rich up.
Me :"Rich, Rich do you smell that? Oh my God do you smell that?"
Rich: "What?"
Me: "That awful stench, do you smell it?"
Rich: "Well, now I do."

Okay, okay, so waking him up to ask him if he could smell the skunk was not one of the smartest things I have ever done, but luckily he forgave me. I did moan and whine for the rest of the night so he didn't get much sleep.

The smell from the skunk took a really long time to go away. For months afterwards, there were certain things that kept the smell on them. I picked up a pen one day and my hand smelled like skunk ass after that.

So you see, I have a reason for hating skunks. Every time I see one dead in the road, I have to give a thumbs up to whoever killed the stinky son of a bitch. Dead skunks=cheers when we are on road trips! I lost all respect for the Hogle Zoo when I saw that they have a skunk on exhibit. Seriously? A skunk is not a zoo animal! Lions, tigers, elephants, giraffes; those are zoo animals; not the vermin that can spray stinky oil out their ass! YUCK! Who thought that was a great idea anyway? Again proving that they have no soul! God wouldn't come up with such a bad idea!

Thank you for tuning into my rant on Skunks. I am not quite sure what my next rant will be....hmmmm...maybe toe socks, techno music, something about throwing rocks in glass houses built in the sand on a side of a hill, the silver war, teaching new dogs old tricks...who knows? I only write about what the little voices in my head tell me to...

So, if I ever get my way, I will rid this beautiful world that we live in of skunks and seagulls. They are of the devil and serve no good purpose here on earth. Please do not send me hate mail or mkae nasty comments if you are an animal lover because quite frankly, this is my blog so I can say whatever I want.

I don't give a shit about seagulls, skunks, the environment or the size of my carbon footprint. I would gladly kill Flipper to eat a tuna fish sandwich. I think that letting all of the crops in CA die to save some stupid guppy fish is ridiculous. I think we should drill for oil wherever we can find it...wait wait wait...this was not the subject for my rant...hmmmm...maybe I have found my topic for next time....

So, until then....I am off to buy my hubby and kids ice cream in my giant gas guzzling, environment hating, Ford Excursion! I am also going to fart as much as possible while outside to increase the methane in the air....and litter! Ya maybe I'll litter too!!!

Already a Year

I have tried all week to not think about where I was last year on the 4th of July, but of course that hasn't happened. I don't know why it should matter when someone dies, why I keep the date in my head. It doesn't change anything, that person is still gone so why should it matter when the anniversary of his death comes around?

One year ago today, I was headed to CA with my brother and my dad. My dad wanted one last trip to CA after he was diagnosed with brain tumors. He had been in the hospital for a few days earlier in the week with diverticulitis. My brother and I didn't think he was going to be able to make the trip, but he decided that he felt up to it and the morning of July 2nd we were on our way.

We were having a great time, laughing and talking. We met one of my dad's old friends from high school in St. George for dinner. It was so nice for my dad to see this friend again as it had been many years since they had seen each other. After dinner, we headed on our way. Our destination was Las Vegas where Doreen, Jeff, Brandon, and Abigail were waiting for us. We made it to Vegas and got into our hotel room. We were all chatting when my dad felt a really bad pain in his stomach. He asked me to call the ambulance because the pain was so severe. This is where the nightmare started...

The ambulance arrived and took forever to get him out of the hotel. The EMT's were more concerned with getting his insurance information than helping him. By this time he was in an incredible amount of pain and it was horrible to watch him and be completely helpless to do anything to make him feel better. They finally took him and informed us that they were taking him to Spring Valley Hospital. Alan, Doreen, and I followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Now before I go any further, I want to say that I will never set foot in Spring Valley Hospital again. I wouldn't take my dog to Spring Valley Hospital. I have been in a lot of hospitals over my 40 years and this was the worst hospital I have ever seen. Patient care was horrible. If I am ever in Las Vegas and need a hospital, I will refuse Spring Valley...if it was the only hospital left in the city and I had two severed legs, I would crawl across the barren, hot ass desert until I reached another town!

The next 8 hours were unbelievable. After about 4 1/2 hours, I threw a huge fit, made a scene and demanded to see a doctor (we had not seen a doctor yet! 4 1/2 hours WTF?) The nurse was pissed at me because I told her that she was not going to lay another finger on my father until I saw a doctor. The following conversation took place...

Me: We have been here for 4 1/2 hours and the only thing you have done is draw blood, give him a CAT scan and load my dad up on morphine. I have given the nurse his history. I have explained that he was in the hospital at the beginning of this week with diverticulitis. It has been almost 5 hours and you haven't even seen him yet. It's not like you are super busy, you have been sitting at that desk for 4 hours. Does it take over 4 hours to get the results of a CAT scan?

Doctor: Ma'am I see a lot of patients everyday and

Me: This man is not just another patient! He is my father! You are not giving him the care he needs! (Now I am yelling and crying)

Doctor: I realize that and as I was saying, I see a lot of patients who are drug seeking and I think he needs to be admitted and...

Me: Wait, wait, wait (At this point, I think that Alan could see I was about to go postal so he attempted to calm me down)

Alan: Look, we have five hours to drive to get him to my house. If we drive those five hours and he ends up in the hospital there, then so be it. At least there, he has support from family and friends. We just need enough pain killers to get him home.

The doctor informed us that he didn't see anything on the CAT scan or in his blood work and had no idea why my dad was in pain! (Keep in mind the cause of death on the death certificate was septic shock due to diverticulitis). The doctor gave in and wrote a prescription for Lortab. We were finally released about 5 in the morning. Now, I am sure that the tumors in my dad's brain were causing the morphine to be extra potent. This is the only explanation I can think of because he was so confused and so out of it. His right side had started to shake and was not working properly. He couldn't get in and out of his wheelchair or in and out of the car.

When we got back to the hotel, we were exhausted, emotionally and physically. We got my dad to bed and Alan and I crashed. We got up the next day ( I should say afternoon) to finish the drive to Ventura. When we were saying goodbye, Doreen and I knew that this was their final goodbye. We didn't talk about it, but we know each other so well that we can communicate without even saying a word. She did tell me at a later time that she knew the tumors were bad because when he looked at her, his eyes had that same look that her dad's did right before he died.

The next 5 + hours were awful. We kept my dad drugged up. To give you an idea of how sick and out of it he was, he wanted to move to the back seat of the Excursion, so Alan pulled over and it took us 20 minutes to get him into the backseat. We finally made it to Ventura and should have went straight to the hospital, but we went to Alan's house and put him to bed. I was up all night giving him meds and woke Alan early on the morning of the 4th and told him he needed to call the ambulance.

The sixth floor of Community Memorial Hospital is where my dad would spend the last 20 hours of his life. He was coherent enough to tell the doctor that he didn't want anything done to try and make him better. He wanted to be kept comfortable and he wanted them to let him die. I am very thankful that he was able to tell this to the doctor because it did make his wishes easier to follow.

For the next 20 or so hours, Alan and I stayed with my dad. There was no way I was going to leave. As the end was getting near, his breathing slowed and we knew it wouldn't be long. I told my dad it was okay to go, that mom was waiting for him. Alan kissed my dad on the forehead and said goodbye. My dad opened his eyes (for the first time in many hours), looked up at the ceiling, smiled, closed his eyes, and took his last breath. I like to think that he was looking at my mom who had come for him. It was one of the most peaceful moments of my life.

The day of the funeral, I practiced and practiced and finally got through my eulogy without crying. But, of course when I began reading it at the funeral, I cried like a baby. Most people have heard it or have read it, but I am going to post it again anyway.

I cannot believe that it has been a year since I said goodbye. I miss you so very much and would love nothing more than to share one more pot of coffee with you, or listen to you scream at the TV. Life is not the same without you here, but I know you are so much better off and that gives me comfort. I do have a small request though. If its possible, could you maybe put an idea in the Big Guy's head about getting rid of skunks and seagulls? I'd really appreciate it!

Eulogy for George S. Ballinger

When I was asked by my brother to speak today, I sat and thought about what I could say about my dad. I could tell you that he was one of the most loving, kind hearted and generous men I’ve ever known and that his family and friends were the most precious things in his life, but you already know that.

When the doctor told my dad that the MRI showed tumors in his brain, he had a great attitude about it. He was hoping the tumors came from his lungs and not his colon because he said it would make all those people right that called him shit for brains all those years. He was quite relieved when they found a spot on his lung.

He told me that he wanted to take one last trip to California and see some family, old friends and the ocean. We arrived in California and my dad was immediately admitted into the hospital. He was in a room on the sixth floor of Community Memorial Hospital in Ventura. I only mention this because at the end of the hallway was a huge window with an amazing view of the palm trees, green hills and the ocean. It was absolutely beautiful. As I stood there realizing that this was it, the time was coming, I thought of my dad wanting that last trip to the beach and felt sad that the trip he wanted so badly wasn’t going to happen. You see my dad and I had a special relationship with the ocean.

When I was in kindergarten, he would pick me up every day on his motorcycle and our routine was the same. I would climb in front of him and hold on. I would always yell, “Faster daddy, faster. He would head directly to the beach where we would swing on the swings and take a walk on the pier. I would look at the ground through the opening between the boards on the pier as we walked. When I could see the water underneath me, dad would have to carry me. I was afraid of the water and knew that if the pier collapsed, my dad was holding me so I would be safe. We would walk out to the end of the pier and on the way back I would let him put me down when I could see the sand beneath the pier once again. I don’t remember how long this daily ritual lasted, but I can tell you that I remember it like it was yesterday.

It is extremely special to me that when the time came to let him go, the tables had turned and it was me holding him, telling him he was safe and that it was okay to let go. It was one of the most precious moments of my life and I will cherish it forever.

Thank you all for coming today. This last week has been a roller coaster ride. I am in awe of the support and love that my family has been given through this difficult time. I am proud of my father and the many lives he touched throughout his life. I refuse to say goodbye because I will see him again. Maybe when my time comes he will pick me up on a motorcycle and once again I can say to him, “Faster daddy, faster.

Are You Kidding Me?

So this morning I got on FB like I always do and saw a link that one of my friends had posted. A "reporter" had gone out to the beach in So. California and was asking people why we celebrate the 4th of July. As I'm watching this video, I go from laughing to actual disgust and anger. I am sitting there amazed that so many people had no idea why the 4th of July is important! Now, let me point out that it wasn't just teenagers, there were people as old as my parents, people my age and younger. One guy even had the nerve to say that when he thinks of the 4th of July, he doesn't think of patriotism! Really? Well guess what douchebag? I'm sure that all of the soldiers that have died over the years for your sorry ass just to give you the right to be stupid are really happy right about now.

As I am watching this, my son comes upstairs to go to work. So I decide to ask him,

Me: "Matthew, why do we celebrate the 4th of July?"
Matthew: "Because its Independence Day"
Me: "Yay! Our independence from who?" (Now he's looking at me like I have gone insane)
Matthew: "Britain"
Me: "YAY!!!"

I was very excited that he knew which shows me that all of those history lessons with grandpa paid off. My dad loved history which is where I get my love for it too. We would have long conversations about it and I was always flabbergasted by the knowledge he had in that brain of his. He always talked about how he was uneducated and should have finished college, but that he just hated school so much and quit to go back home and marry my mom. Although he didn't have a degree, my dad was one of the most educated people I know. He educated himself. My older brother is the same way. Alan has the same love for history that I do and I always call him first when I have an historical or political question. Alan would have been an excellent history teacher. He would have been one of those teachers that makes learning fun and his students would have wanted to be in his class. History wouldn't have been boring. Which brings me back to Matthew, he had a social studies teacher in 8th grade that he really liked and therefore enjoyed the class and worked hard.

My oldest son, Josh, just finished his junior year of high school and had an amazing history teacher. I was or should say am so pleased with his knowledge of history. I think a lot of people think that history is boring and I remember hating it when I was younger, but looking back it wasn't the history I hated , but the way it was taught.

When I was finishing my degree, I had to take a public speaking class (which after listening to people speak in public over the years, everyone should have to take one. But that's a different rant for another day) Anyway, I don't even remember the topic. I think it was supposed to be a persuasive speech and this girl started speaking about how war is wrong. Then as she is stammering and blabbing on making very little sense, she makes this profound statement...

"All war is wrong. Killing is wrong. Well, uh wait, I guess not all war is wrong, cuz what was that war? Hmmm...what was it called again? Oh ya the silver war. That is the only war that was okay because slavery is wrong. Nobody should be allowed to do that to people. People shouldn't be owned or forced to do things they don't wanna do. But that is the only war that is okay. All other war is wrong."

Really? WTF? I think YOU should be FORCED to take a history class. I remember coming home and telling my dad and he just shook his head in disgust. That became a running joke over the last few years of his life. The silver war...I was always taught in school that the Civil War was all about slavery (or that's what I remember because the slavery issue was so emphasized) I remember a long afternoon with dad where he set me straight on that one!

So, as you celebrate July 4th by drinking beer, having a BBQ, and blowing shit up, please take a moment to think about WHY our country celebrates it. Why we have the freedoms that we do. Think about all of the men and women that have sacrificed their time, months, even years away from their families; and especially those that gave their life so that WE can have the amazing freedoms and wonderful lives that we do. This is truly the greatest country in the world. Do we have problems? Sure we do! But overall I cannot imagine a better place to live in.

I am very patriotic and love my country. I get that from my mom. My brother always said that she was the Marine Corps mom without the Marine Corps son. I know that Monday she would be flying the flag, wearing her patriotic clothing, and humming God Bless America while preparing food for the massive BBQ we would be having. And she definitely knew why we celebrate the 4th of July. I am sure that if there is a celebration in Heaven, she will be there with her hand over her heart, tears in her eyes, and loudly singing God Bless America!

So, please enjoy the 4th! Celebrate! Have a great time! And remember...alcohol and fireworks can be a deadly combination. Never let the drunk guy light the flaming fountain! (Have I ever told you that story?) hahahaha

God Bless America!!! Let freedom ring!!!

THE BISHOP IS COMING! THE BISHOP IS COMING!

Bishop Smylie is coming for his annual visit to St. Paul's this weekend and while I am excited to meet him, I am a little stressed over all of the preparations that must be done. I need to clean, and I mean really clean my house...after all I don't want him to see how we really live! He doesn't know me, doesn't love me like my friends and family do, so it is important to make a good impression right? To be honest, I don't think it would matter if my house was a pig sty, smelled of animals, cigarette smoke and teenage BO....

I am not nervous about meeting him. Probably the number one reason why I love the Episcopal Church so much is that I have never met a group of people that are so welcoming, accepting and non-judgmental. Now don't get me wrong, every church in every city of every state has those people that judge, but I have been to a lot of different churches of different denominations and every Episcopal Church I have ever set foot in has been welcoming. I am not posting this to bad mouth other denominations so if you are going to comment about your religion and how I am full of shit, please keep it yourself. I am speaking of my own personal experience and the love I have for the Episcopal Church.

I think that we all judge at one time or another, but I honestly do try to meet people and get to know who they are. In the eyes of God, we are all worthy of His love, all worthy of taking communion, all worthy of prayer and all worthy of forgiveness. I am thankful everyday that He is the one to judge me and my family.

So, as I get ready to meet Bishop Smylie, I am so very thankful to belong to the church that I do. I have the best church family that anyone could ask for. They accept me; my faults, my tattoos, my talents, and my love. I cannot imagine a life without them. They have helped me through the spiritual valley that I have been in for over a year. I am slowly, clawing my way to the top, but it has been a long hard road.

Welcome to my home Bishop Smylie, step over the dirty socks, underwear, trash and clutter and make yourself at home.

“Accept one another, just as Christ also accepted us to the glory of God.”
Romans 15:7

teenage girls, teenage boys, and drama

I have 3 teenagers and one tween and from my earlier posts you know that I always have a house full of kids, so as you can imagine, there is a lot of drama. (that is totally a run on sentence, but I don't care). When I was younger, I had a boyfriend who would "make" me (I put "make" in quotes because I was too young and stupid to do otherwise) tie a sweatshirt around my waist so that no one could look at my butt. Now not to brag, but I had a really great butt when I was younger. If I had that butt now, I would parade it around town for all to see! Anyway, I am not bad mouthing this boy; he did this because of his own insecurities and immaturity. A lot of the drama that I witness today is caused from the same insecurities and immaturity that most teenagers experience, but it is upsetting when I see beautiful, young girls let themselves be treated like they are property and are "owned" by their boyfriends.

I have stated, nagged, forcefully stated, forcefully nagged, and maybe harped a little to all of my boys that girls are to be treated with respect. (and the boys should be treated the same by the girls) Girls and boys need to have friends. They need to have their own identity. They need to hang out with other people and enjoy their teenage years! We grownups know that real life is not always fun and worry free. Teenagers need to have fun now before they are worrying about bills, children, and careers. I must say that I am extremely proud of my three teenage boys. They are really good about balancing friend time (or should I say bro time) and girlfriend time and do not throw huge fits when their significant others hang out with their friends. Jealousy is such a negative emotion and will only cause problems. So listen up teenage boys and girls...IF YOUR BOY/GIRL FRIEND IS GOING TO CHEAT ON YOU, THERE ISN'T A DAMN THING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT! YOU CANNOT WATCH THEM EVERY SINGLE SECOND. IF THERE IS NO TRUST, THEN THERE IS NO REASON TO STAY TOGETHER!! Now I understand that teenagers are fickle and change their minds constantly, but you need to decide if you are going to constantly worry and stress that he/she might cheat on you or if you are going to enjoy your teenage years. Its your decision.

Choosing what clothing your girlfriend can wear is not going to prevent other guys from noticing her! A pretty girl is going to get noticed by others if she is wearing a snuggie! Let other guys notice! Then you can walk down the street holding her hand thinking to yourself, "yup, I know she's beautiful, but you know what? she chose me!" Tying the stupid sweatshirt around my waist did not prevent other guys from trying to pick up on me.

My last rant of this session is a very personal one to me. Never, ever, ever let a boy or girl come between a friendship. Being young and stupid, I came between a friendship. To this day I feel bad about it. These boys were friends for a very long time. I feel bad about it because I know how it feels. I had a best friend in high school. We did everything together. We had plans to attend college together, take that graduation trip to Rio (it may never have happened anyway, but it was fun to dream). Anyway, I always knew that I could count on her through anything. Our friendship was destroyed because of a boy, a boy that isn't even part of my life anymore! It was almost 25 years ago and I still miss her today. We have reconnected on facebook, but it will never be the same.

Now that I am an old lady, I have grown up and have become much wiser. If I had only known then, what I know now...but that's all a part of growing up!
So to my dear niece and her bestie...learn from my dumb mistakes (and lots of others before and after me) Do not throw your friendship away over this...you may be hurt and hurtful things may have been said, but you can get through this...you have an amazing friendship and it is definitely one worth saving, so work you asses off to save it!

Ode to my Spawn

My kids are the light of life. I cannot imagine life without them. I thank God for them everyday! So in honor of them, I give you............. ODE TO MY SPAWN......

Josh is the oldest at almost eighteen.
Next year he will enter the college party scene!
Wyoming or Utah where will he go?
Whatever his choice, he'll do awesome fo sho'!

Matthew is next, the one with the charm.
His antics have caused him bodily harm.
He is loving and loyal, to his friends he stays true,
But if you mess with his loved ones, he'll come after you.

Sam's in the middle he loves pranks and jokes,
always messes around and tries to fool folks!
He loves to play sports, always up for a chase.
Yesterday at soccer he scored a goal with his face!

Gabby, the only girl what can I say?
She loves all things girly, but football she'll play.
Many brothers she has by love and by blood.
If any boy tries to get near her his name will be mud!

Michael the youngest is the spoiled baby boy.
His love for reading brings me great joy.
He loves his cousin Grant more than you know,
And very very rarely hears the word NO!

I love these five kids with my heart and my soul.
Raising them right is the most important goal.
They make me laugh and cry and rip out my hair.
I am fiercely protective, so mess with them? I wouldn't dare.

Father's Day

Father's Day is quickly approaching. I used to be so wrapped up in what the kids and I were gonna do for Rich that I would have to remind myself that I too had a dad that I needed to get something for. This year is completely different. I have been consumed with the thought of this being the first father's day without my dad! I remember last year getting him some new pants, a shirt and a really soft cozy blanket. Ya I know a blanket in the middle of June? He was always cold. He would sit in the living room with a blanket, would always have the heater on in the car, and liked his bedroom to be about 80 degrees. It used to drive Rich and I insane when he would sit in the kitchen in the morning having coffee with the oven turned on and the door open to heat up the kitchen!

It's funny that now, I would give anything to have him here doing those things that drove us crazy! I would be happy to sit in his room sweating if I could talk to him one more time. I would gladly use the oven to heat the kitchen if it meant sharing one more pot of coffee. Unfortunately, this is not possible. So, for now I focus on the memories I have of my dad and the wonderful, simple moments that we spent together.

This coming Sunday is Father's Day. If you are lucky enough to have your father in your life, take the time to tell him you love him, if possible hug him a little tighter, make time to call or visit because life is precious and way too short and you never know when it will end.

Happy Father's Day Dad! I love you and miss you! So, until we meet again...keep the oven on...

Matthew, Matthew, Matthew

So the other night I was watching a movie and Matthew and Brittany come upstairs to tell me they need to show me something. Now when one of my kids says "I need to show you something" my first reaction is to shut my eyes very tightly. You know kinda like when they say "smell this". My first instinct is to protect myself!

So, I slowly got up off the couch; either because I was very reluctant to go downstairs or because my couch tends to swallow my ass and it is hard to get up. Anyway, Brittany is crying and laughing at the same time and Matthew is just laughing.

As I walk downstairs, Matthew is telling me what happened. Now my son Matthew for those of you who don't know him is the reason I color my hair! Ever since he was born he has been afraid of nothing, has always pushed the limits, has rebelled (to an extent) against any authority, and is the thrill seeker. Because of this, I had no idea what to expect when I went downstairs. For all I knew, he turned his room into an underwater man cave (don't get any ideas Matthew).

Apparently he and Brittany were sitting in the downstairs hallway and he told her to kick him in the chest. He told her to start out soft and kick harder each time. (Yes, this is what my son does for fun) So I guess she started kicking him and on the last kick, the hardest kick, she kicked his ass through the wall! Now I think Brittany thought I was going to be angry about the gaping hole in my wall, but when I got downstairs all I could do was laugh! Laugh at the giant hole in the wall, but also at my son for being so smart!!

Ya ya ya I know that he probably could have been hurt from this, but this is Matthew. I cannot go through my life worrying about him because of the "bright ideas" he comes up with. If I did that, I would never get any sleep and would be highly medicated because the worry would consume me.

So we are all looking at this hole in the wall (by now everyone in the house was downstairs staring at this hole that is the size of Matthew's back) and wondering how in the hell we are going to patch it. The next conservation went a little like this.....

Sam: Dad is gonna be pissed!

Matthew: We can totally fix that! It's not that hard to do!. All we have to do is cut it here and here and put a piece there and get some mud and some tape and......

Me: Really? we can fix that?

Matthew: Ya we can fix it before dad gets home and he'll never even notice.

Mom: Are you high? Your dad the carpenter? Your dad who has to have everything perfect when he builds something? That dad? He's not gonna notice? Are you high Clairie? We can't fix that!

When I was a kid, I got mad at my brother and kicked the bathroom door. When it flew open, the doorknob went through the wall. I remember being so scared at the thought of my dad being pissed off about the hole. I also remember the time that we (my brothers and I) broke one of the windows in the house. My dad was pissed because he had told us a thousand times to not throw the ball near the house. While he was gone buying a new window, we somehow managed to break another one! So at this moment I knew how Matthew was feeling. I honestly didn't know if Rich would be mad or not. I had no idea how he would react.

Yesterday, I called Rich after I was finished at work to see how he was enjoying Alaska. We were talking and I decided to tell him about the "wall incident". He started laughing and laughed even harder when I told him about the idea of us fixing it. I can do a lot of things, but patching drywall is not one of them. Anyway, I told him I was going to leave the hole for him to deal with when he gets home.

I think Matthew was quite relieved that his dad wasn't mad. When Rich patches the wall, I think that Matthew should help him because I am sure this will not be the only time it has to be done. After all, Matthew does have three more years at home until college!

Matthew George, I love you with all of my heart and daily life with you is an adventure that I wouldn't trade for the world! But I am thankful that you were not twins!

First Day of Summer

When do my kids go back to school?

Last Day of School

So today was the last day of school! I was definitely ready for it to end. I haven't had the best year. It probably started in July when my dad died. I was struggling with the emotions of dealing with my dad's death and then in August (2 1/2 weeks before I had to report back to school), I tore the mesh that was holding my umbilical hernia inside my belly. I was in a lot of pain and when I went to the doctor he said I should probably fix it since I was in pain. So 2 weeks before I was to start work, I had surgery.

Before the surgery, my doctor informed me that this surgery was going to hurt...not just a little, but A LOT! It was much more extensive than the last one and my total recovery time would be about 6 months. I remember leaving the doctor's office thinking, "well, he doesn't know how tough I am. I will be fine and ready to start school on the first day.

YA RIGHT...the surgery went well, but I could not believe the amount of pain I was in! It was horrible. I would have rather gone through natural childbirth again than have that hernia fixed. Needless to say, I was completely useless for about a week and a half. This meant that my classroom was not getting put together, I was not going to be prepared for the first day.

The day I had to report to work, I remember loading up on Lortab and muscle relaxers and promising my boss that I would be at work the following Monday to greet my new class of kinders, pain killer free!

Whenever I have surgery, I always have this episode of depression that follows it. I was already a mess because of my dad and the surgery just added to it. I started the school year sad, angry, depressed, unmotivated, and in pain. I remember coming home after the first week and sobbing after everyone had gone to bed. I prayed for strength and comfort.

As my class walked out of my room for the final time today, I felt tired, relieved, sad, happy, and blessed. Tired because I have used so much energy hiding my sadness and grief this year. Relieved because I can take some time to breathe and think about my dad and cry if I need to without worrying about who I might let down or disappoint...Sad because I have watched these kids learn and grow so much this year and now they are moving on, they don't need me anymore...happy because I have done my job and they have worked so hard. Blessed because I have a wonderful job. I work with an amazing staff, my Aspen family.

Thank you to the parents who have been so wonderful this year. You know who you are and you know the hard year I have had. Your support of me and your confidence in me is something I will never be able to repay and it means more to me than I could ever express.

And finally, Jaye Synan...without you I never would have made it through this school year. Thank you for letting me cry, letting me lean on you, letting me vent to you, and most importantly for making me laugh! And especially thanks for not killing me this year! I look forward to being "me" again this next school year.

So until then, I am going to sit back, relax and enjoy my summer!

Nik's Rant of the Day

Now I know all of you are expecting a rant on skunks, but since my husband is "leaving on a jet plane, don't know when he'll be back again", I thought I would change my rant topic for the day. He is off to Alaska this week to marry his oldest nephew (no not marry him like become husband and husband, but perform the ceremony) Anyway, I fear for his safety...I REALLY fear for his safety! Not for reasons you might think. You see, before he even gets to the gate to board his plane, he faces an unbelievable danger that many people do not know about. They do not realize what can happen to them. I am talking about sprains, strains, breaks, loss of limbs, and even death. Yes folks, I am speaking of the Moving Sidewalk People Mover! (I will now refer to it as the MSPM).

This transportation device is not safe. Invented way back when by Haycock Herman Huckleberry, this "invention" was supposed to make it easier to travel through the airport. First of all, I always get irritated when I hear someone behind me say "move to the right". Really, the sidewalk thingy is about as wide as my ass and you want me to move to the right? If you were gonna walk in the first place why the hell did you get on the MSPM? I know, I know you can walk much faster, but really do you need to have super human walking speed? And I doubt those several hundred feet really save you tons of time. You just look like a moron speed walking around my ass!

The speed walking does annoy me, but my biggest concern is safety. These sidewalks are dangerous. If I had a dollar for every time I have seen someone fall or stumble while trying to get off of the MSPM I could buy a nice meal at McDonalds, super sized, and have enough for a McFlurry at the end! Okay, I really meant to say if I had a dollar for every time I have fallen or stumbled, but really do we have to get that technical? Just because I haven't seen anybody fall doesn't mean it doesn't happen and I have proof...

According to the National Moving Sidewalk People Mover Safety Board (NMSPMSB.org) there were 25,000 minor injuries caused from the MSPM in 2010. These injuries range from bruises and scrapes to sprains. There were 3,500 more serious injuries ranging from shattered egos to broken bones. There were 200 incidents of loss of limbs and 1 death. (Okay I made all that shit up, but I bet if someone would bother to collect the data, it would be pretty accurate).

In our society, we hear everyday about the dangers of drugs, tobacco, not wearing a seat belt, UV rays, but do you ever hear about the MSPM? NO! That is why I felt the need to get this information out there. This is a fairly unknown danger that you never hear about...kinda like some of the reality TV they show now a days, but again that's a different rant for a different day.

The transportation industry knew of the dangers of the MSPM, but went ahead with the design. It is used widely across the nation. The dangers were known, but ignored. When the first MSPM was put to use, Haycock Herman Huckleberry was given the esteemed honor of being the first person to "test drive" it. His family, friends and the press all waited anxiously for the maiden voyage across the floor. What happened you might ask? I will leave you with a direct quote from the news story that followed...

As Mr. Huckleberry lay bleeding from a massive head wound caused by the horrible fall on the MSPM, he looked up at family, friends and reporters and quietly said, "maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."

Why didn't we listen? Stay off of the MSPM people...

Be afraid...Be very afraid...

Nik's Rant of the Day

Sometimes when I am sitting up late by myself or early in the morning when everyone is still sleeping (yes sometimes it happens!) my mind becomes a busy mess of thoughts and feelings. Kinda like that area on the freeway where different interstates meet and cars are going every which way. It is often a jumbled mess.

I think of things I have to get finished, worry about my kids, worry about certain students, think about those who have wronged me, think about those that I have lost and miss, think about why Big Macs aren't healthy, think about what I would actually say if I had the opportunity to tell certain people what I think of them, think about how incredibly blessed my life is, think about how awesome it will be when I fit into a size 8, think about those that I love, think about what life will be like in 10 years, think about why my kids never finish their chores, think about why poop stinks, think about a better world withut skunks or seagulls and think about why farts are funny. These are just a few (hehehehe) of the things I think about when the house is quiet and nobody is buggin me!

Because I think it is unhealthy to have all of these jumbled thoughts just hangin around in my brain, I have decided to create Nik's Rant of the Day!!! I know, I know exciting huh? Well here goes, my first rant...wait for it...wait for it...here it comes.........

SEAGULLS...I HATE them! Now I know that hate is a strong word and I do not use it very often, but when it comes to seagulls it is very appropriate. Ya, ya, ya I know the story about the seagulls eating the locusts, or junebugs or cockroaches in Utah (whatever the hell bug it was then, I don't really care) WooHoo! Hooray for them! But, in this day and age they are unnecessary! In this day and age we have RAID! We have pest killers that can get rid of the unwanted bugs. Seagulls are no longer needed. I can hear it now! But what about the damage these harsh chemicals do to the environment? You know what screw the environment! What about the damage to my self esteem when one of those flying, mangy, bug eating bastards SHIT on me in 8th grade? Junior high is tough as it is. Kids want to fit in. Bird shit on your shoulder is probably not the best way to go about doing this. Do you really think you will be in the "in crowd" with a bird shit stain on your favorite shirt? No I don't think so either!

So, will you please quit feeding these sons-a-bitches your left over french fries! (who ever heard of left over french fries anyway?) Throw away your trash in a trash can with a LID! They hang out at McDonalds and Walmart because they know someone is gonna throw them a morsel of food! If everyone would quit feeding them, they would leave. Besides aren't they the state bird of Utah? This is Wyoming! Go home!

I once hit a seagull with my car at the beach when I lived in Cali! It was one of the best days of my life. I should have taken a picture and then mounted that son of a bitch to the grill of my car! But, unfortunately I didn't have my camera. So, I just jumped out of the car and did my happy dance while screaming, "Take that asshole! That's for the 8th grade, for me, and for all of the others that your disgusting breed humiliated, and abused each and every day at lunch! Don't mess with the bull or you'll get the horns! HA HA HA!!" Then I ran over him back and forth to make sure he was really dead while sadistically laughing!

It was a proud moment for me. One I will never forget! Okay, okay maybe I went a little bit overboard, but blame it on the Post Traumatic Stress from that humiliating and demeaning experience in junior high.

Oh and one more thing, if you are reading this blog thinking, "that is so horrible, that poor bird is one of God's living creatures..." First of all seagulls have no soul. Second of all they are mangy, disgusting birds that should be destroyed. And thirdly (Is that even a word? I don't really know, but it sounds good) do not comment if you are on the side of the seagull. Seagulls are the enemy. If you side with the enemy, well then that makes you...

Thank you for taking the time to read Nik's Rant of the Day.

Oh and one last thing...

Have I ever told you how I feel about skunks?

Kids, Kids, Kids

I am the mother of five beautiful, intelligent, funny, loving, gifted, ornery, sometimes annoying, sometimes well mannered, sometimes hard working, spiritual, compassionate children. They are my everything and I cannot imagine life without them. With that being said, with five children comes a lot of friends. On any given day, it is not uncommon for me to come home from work and have not only my children here, but also a plethora of other children that I did not give birth to, but that I have come to consider part of the family.

Some people might find this an annoyance; to have 8-12 kids at their houses daily, but I absolutely love it! They keep me young. They make me laugh. It is truly a blessing to have them here. They are all great kids and I thank their parents for sharing them with me.

So, Jase, Chris, Bob, Lucas, Brandon, Sara, Britney, Gracie, Logan, Olivia, Carson, Chase, CJ, Octavio, (and I really hope I didn't forget anyone) thank you for being a part of the family!! I love you all!!!

Family isn't always blood. It's the people in your life who accept you for who you are...who love you no matter what.

So this was my post on facebook yesterday. I am amazed at how many people responded to it with either a comment or a "like". For those of you who know me, you know that there is nothing more important to me than the ones I love, my family. This was the perfect quote for me because I have many people in my life that I consider family. We may not have the same blood running through our veins, but they are my family nonetheless.

I have experienced some great loss in the last year when it comes to family. Some I have lost through death, others through different circumstances. Regardless of how they were lost, there is still sorrow and grieving that accompany it. But, at the end of the day, I can say that while they were in my lives I was loving, giving and supportive. There is nothing I would not have done for them.

As I write this today, I am very thankful and blessed to have many people in my life that love me for who I am, that support me, and that would be there for me in an instant if I needed them. They mean the world to me. They are gifts from God and I thank Him everyday for bringing them into my life. Simply put, they are my family...