View Photos from Little Red Riding Hood

View Photos from Little Red Riding Hood

I just did a bike ride in Logan. Here is a zazoosh photo of me at the beginning. It has been such a fun thing to do, and I guess it's been so much fun, I have been forgetting my blog entirely. What can I say? Between my stuffy, cluttered office and the open road with fresh green breezes, I'll take the open road!

More photos later.

Searching for Vacations to Kona on the computer with mom is boring.

I may be the only one reading this blog nowadays.

Alas, diligent blogging is not my forte. Neither is diligent housecleaning or laundering. What am I diligently doing these days? I am diligently nagging/teaching my children to do their own cleaning and laundering, and to be responsible for their studies, gospel habits, and so forth. The hope is that one day, they will be self sufficient. (hah!) And, I am devoting much energy to running, biking and treating my 3 little guinea pigs to whatever mom made for dinner.

Unfortunately, some people have other ideas about what their mom diligently does. And their ideas may have some merit.

Check out what Maya has to say about her mom's latest hobby via her latest "Radmall Rocking Blog" entry:

"Searching for Vacations to Kona on the computer with mom is boring.
I was so tired. I waited and waited and waited and did I mention waited? I can not believe she said "I will be done soon." in that calm mother-like voice because she never GOT done. I don't see why it is such a big deal. She could just Go On Delta And Get It Done already.



It is tough to be a 9 year old sometimes. I know most of you that read this were kids once. Or are still kids. Don't worry about troubles..... O.K. Fine. Worry about things. Just the big things. not like not getting to go to Wendy's or not getting gum at the check-stand at Target when U really,really,really want that orange-flavored-gum. I do not do these things (They are just examples) O.K. Maybe I do the gum-thing. But don't tell anyone O.K.? Maya. "

Indeed, Maya, don't sweat the small stuff. Your mom may be delusional and believe she can travel places on the cheap. Navigating Delta's Skymiles Award Flight system takes about as long as a flight to Hawaii would! At least your mom can't afford the trips, or you'd be sweating the big stuff, like why that Sting Ray is so much more intimidating through the lense of your snorkel mask!

For the record, I find searching for vacations almost as fun as actually taking them, only slightly less fun thatn reading what my kids think of my searching, and definitely more fun than laundry or looking out the window into the gray light of another dull February. It can't be helped.

Ah, wanderlust.

Baby Eden

Hi. Yes. It is me. I am back! And better than ever? I don't know.

Anyway, I just wanted to write a quick something about my awesome friend, Rachel, and her husband Jeremy. They recently gave birth to a beautiful "Micro-preemie" baby girl, Eden. For those of my friends and family who know Rachel and Jeremy, you also know what a strong couple they are, and how much will they have. If you need a bit of inspiration, just visit their blog about baby Eden http://babyedenswenson.blogspot.com(also linked in my blog list) and her amazing day-to-day struggles. I know you'll come away with a lifted spirit, totally amazed by this great family.

Shelley

P.S. I might write again. So much catching up! That's all I did in 2009y, huh?

Mid-life Crisis.....?

Assuming I live to be 74, I can say that today, I am on target for a mid-life crisis.


I just re-visited my "when are they all in school all day/when will they all flee the nest" chart. It goes like this:

In the school year 2013-2014, Maya will be in seventh grade, Jack will be in third grade, Nols will be in first grade. That's 4 years from now. 48 months, if you like. (I don't still refer to my childrens' ages in months, so that's a step toward reality).


What will I do? Where will I go? Probably to school right along with them. Do I have no more vision? Or do I have 20/20 vision? Something about being in a classroom sounds perfect. Something about reliability in this economy sounds perfect. I shouldn't dread this.


In the school year 2024-2025, Nolan will graduate from high school, Jack will be 2o, and Maya will be 24, turning 25. We could be gran and gramps, empty nesters, and a missionary parents all at the same time, if our kids follow our path. Many experts say they will. I was 23, and Chad 24 when Maya was born.


I hope they will, and I hope they won't. :)


In seemingly unrelated news, I've started a dance class again, and Chad has been revisiting an old Smiths album. He was never a huge fan, (a bit too young) but I just heard him mutter/sing "to die by your side......ha..mmmm..da" in a very Morrisey-esque tone. So, yes, he is being influenced by the movies we watch (500 Days of Summer) that tell of young love. Possibly, we are a hot car or a hot blonde away from disaster here.


Is this the way it's supposed to feel? The emotional tide here feals freakishly 8th-graderish. I'm queasy.

Hah! At least Chad and I won't be "old parents."

How strange to be in a place where I need to plan beyond birthing them. I just giggled a bit. And therefore, jiggled a bit. How sad that they won't remain young forever; and clearly, we haven't either!

4 AND A HALF IN 100 OR LESS.............

While the title of this post would also make a lovely name for new fad diet that leaves the poor saps who try it 10 pounds heavier and 5 times more tired, it's actually referring to something else: me, trying to cover 4 months of life in 100 words or less. Considering what a picture's worth, this should be a Sunday stroll in the park.

Here goes nothing.......

Jake got married. Welcome, Emily and boys.

Park day, March. Miss you Sub.

Mining, slot canyons, and park day, St George. Conference Weekend.

Early April. Sun. Smiles. The Point.

Spring Break??????? Really????????

Jack made it through preschool. How did the teachers?

Final Cousin Day

4 whole months, and plenty of proof I'll contend for Mother of the Year, 2009........

1: Obviously napping on the job myself, then photographing my son's mishap......

2: Allowing a pants-optional, goggles required, pj's till noon dress code....

3: Not blogging for 4 months.......

Bring on Summer!!!!!

(I think that WAS less than 100 words...... But I cheated. I didn't even throw in the 2 birthdays or the vacation Chad and I had, or the Ragnar race).

Digging a Hole

I have been digging a hole.

My poor posterity have missed out on 3 whole months of the Radmalls' exploits. I don't feign to believe I've got more readers than like 3 close family relatives, but my posterity is really missing out, here. They've missed out on 12 week's possible blackmail to be used on their parents, my jazzy and quirky children. So, sorry, future grandkiddies. (May I be so lucky, and may the world hang on till then:) And, for my 3 beloved readers, I really am sorry. And grateful that you survive my posts.

The problem is that this digging is more than just figurative. ALL, literally, all of my extra time has gone toward the digging up and removal of several tons of weeds and unwanted perrenials, trees, and other items, from my garden. We're only talking about the front yard. I'd like to blame it on a pregnancy, childbirth, surgery, darn parade float, and the subsequent lack of attention said garden has received over the past few years. Maybe a lame excuse, but still, its THE excuse. Along with my very fertile soil, and the Lehi winds.

While I can't possibly hope to recapture all the Radmall hyjinx over the last 3 months, suffice it to say that I will approach this new summer season with more vigor, and maybe more pictures and stories for you all. Until then, here is a mental image for how I have spent my last 3 months. The kids have just run wild whilst I've done this sort of gardener's yoga. Pray for my pinched back nerve, will you?

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Harry Floppins

Lately, I've been getting my kids to do things by using rhyming words to remind them of fogotten jobs. It goes something like this:

"Jack, did you forget to do something?"

Jack gives the 'am I in trouble' look, then says, "I don't think so. Do you think so?"

I think, "Yeah, the same thing you forget 90 percent of the time."

But I say, "It rhymes with 'smear your face.'" I say this with a hopefully sugary enough tone to hide my irritable demeanor.

"Oh!" he says. "Huh he huh......clear my place!" And away his curly blond self goes to do the job, still smiling. He thinks I'm funny. I think I am clever. It is a win-win situation.

I want to choose my battles, and this tactic has served me well, although, today I wonder whether I need to retire it.

I guess I am growing more complacent about the joys of motherhood, or maybe I've just been in the trenches for too long without a breath of fresh air, because I can tell that lately, I'm sort of carrying things a bit too far, and am becoming far too Seuss-ly for my own good. I've always teased my kids by singing rhyming nonsense while we do stuff. I like to get them going.

Today, I asked Maya what cd she was going to listen to at bedtime. She opted for an old classic from her preschool days. Upon hearing the first strains of "Feed the Birds," I said, "Oh! This one rhymes with Harry Floppins."

Right after I said it, of course, I decided that at worst, my word choice was a possible Freudian slip, and at best, was a bit off-color.

Luckily, Maya and I share a similar sense of humor.

"Practically perfect in ev-er-y wayy," she grunted. The voice she used WAS practically perfect. I imagine Harry Floppins might sound just like she did. (Picture a Jersey accent coupled with a low, nasal, gaseous quality used mostly by actors portraying children's television villains). Oscar the Grouch meets Joe Pesci's famous, yet nameless? Home-Alone character.

I can only imagine the Harry Floppins sketches we can produce one day. Move over, Sherry Bobbins.

On a totally unrelated note, and for documentary purposes only, it is now 9:30 p.m. Nolan and Curious George are still wrestling and playing in his crib, and bless his heart, he's trying to sing the Indiana Jones theme song.

I need to set up a hidden camera investigation, because, clearly, I am missing something really great in there between the tucking-in and the waking up.

Jen's Ritzy Neighbors.......

Jen, I talked to you today, and I am glad. I know what you're thinking. "But, you talk at me every day." Well, think no more. Thinking will not change my behavior. Nor will writing to you directly change the fact that you won't be reading my blog. Never mind.

As I was saying, if I hadn't spoken with my dear friend Jen today, I'd never know that one of her ritzy neighbors was on the Colbert Report, much to the jealous outrage of Jen's cute kids.

Enjoy!

http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/215400/january-06-2009/better-know-a-district---utah-s-3rd---jason-chaffetz

Promises I don't intend to keep........

Hey all! I'm not vowing to do anything in 09 except be maybe better than I was last year, at something. I'm tired of resolutions. I always tend to fight them anyway. It's better not to give myself anything to rebel against.

Here is what I am looking forward to in '09:

Running. This picture should discourage me. I look like hell warmed over.

(I just signed up for the Ragnar Relay with some old friends and some new.....couldn't be more thrilled to actually get back in it......Come on, old girl. I know I am tempting medical fate here, but how many baseballs can one woman grow?)..........

Not having a spotless house, or really much of anything that can't be undone in 5 minutes, and for once, accepting it. (Reality is difficult for me.........must pull head from clouds).

Maya's ice skating lessons, Jack's Spring soccer, and Nolan's talk-splosion (should hit any time.....a personal favorite stage to experience with my little Manny Manewitz).

A Possible Disney vaca. (I don't even dare plan them anymore after '08's "Chad and Shelley do Maui for their 10-year" turns to Vegas B-listers Door #2 vacation) but any of you who know me well know my freakish closet travel literature habit always gets the better of me. I hate Vegas, but I love it too.

Sowing the travel seeds in my children NOW so that I will FINALLY have someone to eat weird Thai food in Thailand with, and go to British music fests with, and bike across the country with? O.K., Chad will do that one. It will involve at least 3 things he is comfortable with: exhaust, America, and bad burgers. (I knew what Chad was when I picked him up! NOT a world traveller). But worth it!

Seeing Chad do the Ragnar Relay (I know)! and race in the desert. (I think this year, I can actually be like his pit crew or his tube top-wearing trophy queen. I will get the blond wig, the falsies, and the top ready to hit the desert......)

Hope for me that these things can come to pass!

Sucker for Savings

So, with the holiday after-sales that aren't really sales b/c everyone knows you end up buying things that you wouldn't have otherwise, I decided to do a little risky online cosmetics shopping. In an effort to get a freebie, I wasted twenty minutes on this http://mistletoemakeover.com/?6ccb431240179b99f7ee10dc528fe9e3. If I were actually being paid for the 20 minutes I worked on this at a real job, I would have received much more than a crappy free lipstick. Did it anyway. And freakishly, enjoyed it. Would (and could) do it again! Used a snapshot from a trip to Lagoon, no makeup and oh-so-sweaty.

Holiday posts coming soon after I recover from our "New York" New Year's Eve Party. At least I will have fabulous cyber-makeup for the event.

Again?!!!!?

Many months ago, I wrote about Jack's tab. The kid, bless his little curious blond self, just seems to destroy, tinker, and manipulate his way into expensive situations.

I will not bore you with another running total. I'll just bore you with a few of the latest stories from the "Jack's tab" newsreel.

Today, Chad was singing "Eve of Destruction." I soon discovered what inspired the serenade: Jack had taken off several rubber stoppers from the backs of the cabinets, putting them against each other to make mini bouncy balls. Great. I had him repair the cabinets, and we talked about why the cabinets need their rubber stoppers. Just like the talk we had earlier about why doors need hinges and can't be swung from. Like a little preschool physics camp, only less colorful, and more tense.

Last week, Jack informed me that Nolan had "ripped the curtains down." I skeptically asked Jack how Nols could be strong enough. There was no reply. Then, I dropped my dishtowel, dried my hands, and went to the basement. The visual was priceless. I asked Jack how Nols could tear down the curtain rod, which was dangling, one end down willy-nilly in a pile of sheetrock dust. There was no reply.

There were, however, some Flintstone-esque footprints in the windowsill, about a children's size 9.

A moment of mother's best weapon, silence, produced a squealer. She told me what I already knew. I sat Jack down and talked about telling the truth and why we don't swing like Spiderman from curtain rods. Then, I asked if he was hurt. I told him he would have to help daddy with the tools to fix the rod (not really a punishment for Jack, but the only one that seemed to fit the crime)

Then, I mentally reassured myself that I had made a great choice to go with cheap Ikea hardware. Then, I mentally reprimanded myself for not going with better hardware, not asking if he was hurt first, not keeping my kitchen floor (or at least his feet) cleaner, and not properly supervising my son's activities. I thought about all the things I should be doing to keep my kids out of danger.

Nolan, Chad informs me, has also visited the same windowsill to attend Jack's Stunt School. ("But, Dad, Nols likes it when I lift him up there.")
This is going nowhere good. This is going everywhere bad. This is. This just is. My life. For another 20 years. May I keep them out of body casts, and the house from inevitable implosion.

Where did it go?

Where has the time gone? How is she 8? How are we old enough to have a real human 8 year old who reads more novels than both parents put together, and can fix meals herself?

Needless to say, I am a bit late in posting this. Guilty as charged. I unashamedly admit my denial. I can't help it. Love you, Maya!

And, by the way, I am not the only one to have sobbed like a baby at the baptism. Polyester prison jumpsuits aside, Chad really put his gentle and true heart into the task at hand. Love you, Chad!