Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Backyard

For those of you who have seen what my backyard looked like when we moved in, I wanted to show off what a little grass can do. I tried to find the picture of the backyard as it looked, but I guess we got rid of it. You only get the "after" shot. Sorry. I was also mainly testing out our new camera tripod. We just got it on Friday, and I love having it!!

We planted seed and faithfully watered everyday. We chased birds out of the yard because they were eating the seed. After only a week we saw green start to sprout up out of the ground. This picture is about 2 1/2 weeks after the initial seeding. You can see we left the some big areas surrounding the grass unseeded. I'm not quite sure what we are going to do with it yet. Our main concern was to get in some grass for the boys to play on. I want to plant some flowers and stuff, but we'll see. I also want to put in a firepit. I think we could have a lot of fun with that.

I love it! Now my boys have a grassy area to play in. They love it! Now Ches has something to mow. I'm not sure that he loves that, but you do what ya gotta do.

Monday, November 27, 2006

You Say Toe-may-toe, I Say Toe-mah-toe

I've been thinking about how differently we all pronounce certain words. (I don't know why. Just roll with me here) I often wonder why it is, really, that we DO pronounce them differently. Why is it that here in the US, when we want to apologize, we say "saw-ree" and you up in the north say "sore-ee"? We aren't all that different, are we?

Then you get people in the same country... take a certain kind of pie that (most) people seem to like. I pronounce it "pe-CAHN", whereas my friends down south pronounce it "PEE-can". Then there is the word pie: I say "pyee", and Southerners say "paaah".

Sometimes it doesn't seem to matter where you are from, you just pronounce it however your family does. Take the word creek. I am usually adament that it is pronounced "creek", not "crick" as many people will. However, when I am talking about a certain small community in southeastern Idaho, it is most definitely Mink Crick. Even if it is spelled Mink Creek.

The town I used to live in during my high school years has a nice name: El Dorado. A beautiful, Spanish sounding name, right? WRONG!!! In that town, it is not pronounced "Elle Doe-RAH-doe", as it is anywhere else in the world. Here it is "Elle Duh-RAY-doe".

When I lived in Maine, you knew who the tourists were because they would call our little city "Bang-urr". It is spelled Bangor, and it is pronounced "Bang-GORE". Or, if you had a really thick, Down East accent, it is "Bang-ah". Here in Arizona, the out-of-towners (or out-of-staters, really), pronounce Prescott wrong by saying "Press-SCOTT". When you come visit, you will sound knowledgeable because I am telling you it's actually pronounced "PRESS-kit".

In Nevada, we say "Ne-VEH-duh", NOT "Ne-VAH-duh". Just to make that clear. When we moved East, we had to constantly remind people it is "Ore-e-GUN", not "Ore-e-GONE", and I don't know why so many people can't understand that the "s" is silent in Illinois.

So, pretty much, I'm thinking of place names more than other words. Hmm. What common mispronounciations do you hear where you are? Or what major differences have you heard (with neither actually being "correct", just different) in your many travels?

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Some Things I've Learned

Here are some important things I have learned since becoming a mother:

1. A timer is everything. I should carry one in my diaper bag.
2. If you call it a reward rather than a bribe, then you are a good mommy.
3. Sometimes you have to talk to the toy to get answers from the 4 year old.
4. When going to the zoo, don't expect your child to be fascinated by all the "cool" animals (ie, lions, zebras, polar bears, monkeys, etc). Instead, be prepared to comment that yes, those ants crawling in the dirt really are special.
5. No matter how cool the toy is you bought for a birthday present, your child will still be happiest playing with the box, your makeup brushes, and a piece of tinfoil.
6. You really do turn into your mother because you have found yourself using phrases like, "Because I said so!" and "Look with your eyes, not your hands!!"
7. Your husband must really love you if he is still attracted to your saggy, stretched out, flabby, scarred body.
8. A child's sense of humor is amazing. I find myself laughing all the time.
9. Mealtimes are major affairs, not to be handled with delicacy. Going out requires research, a bag of stuff to do while waiting for the food, extra clothes (especially if you're planning on going somewhere after dinner), and plenty of cash for a good tip for the understanding server.
10. Mothers really do have super powers. They call it "intuition". I don't know what it really is, but I can tell exactly what my baby needs, can feel the emotions of a toddler as they feel them, and can move with super-human speed at the playground when it looks like someone is going to fall backwards.
11. I am tired, can't think straight, feel like the ugliest, fattest person ever, and just wish for a day of complete silence with the chance to do nothing but indulge myself, but I couldn't give up my children for anything in the world. Even in that wishfulfilled day, I would miss my kids after just five minutes. Okay, maybe more like 10.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Gobble, Gobble, Gobble

To all of us in the States:

Happy Thanksgiving! May your turkey be delicious, your pumpkin pie perfect, and your after-dinner nap satisfying.

To everyone else:

Happy normal Thursday that really isn't different from any other day! May you enjoy Survivor and CSI on TV tonight, shopping for Christmas gifts, and going to bed at a normal time because you still have work and/or school tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Close To Home

An incident was reported on last night's news broadcast that an 8th grade student had written a "hit list" of other students' names on his notebook. These were students who had bullied the 8th grader. Also on his notebook was written a list of some students and teachers who would be spared because they had been nive to them. This incident happened last Friday, and it happened at the middle school that Mr. Universe teaches at.

Mr. Universe expressed surprise that it was reported on teh news because he didn't see it as a big deal. No one seems to believe the student would actually do anything. The student was suspended, and the principal has talked to the students involved (which included two of Mr. Universe's students) and to the parents. The principal was shown on TV to say that he is keeping an open mind in judgement on this, so this student may be allowed back in school. Mr. Universe said he doesn't know this kid, but he did hear about the incident on Friday.

I just about freaked out. As I'm watching this TV report and realizing where exactly this happened, I start to have a panic attack. Mr. Universe kept saying it's no big deal and not to worry about anything. The only thing that kept me from having a full-blown panic attack was that I was starting to get angry at Mr. Universe for not realizing that it was a big deal to me.

You see, I still vividly remember that day in April several years ago when I was home early from class. I flipped on the TV, and there were all these reports... on every station... images of kids in lines running out of a school with their hands on their heads... so many kids crying... kids and parents on cell phones...police cars with lights flashing... adults in full riot gear...

I think we all know what I'm refering to. Columbine. I was still a newlywed, and for the first time I really started to feel mortal. Worst of all, I realized my husband was mortal. We were both studying to become teachers, but we hoped to have a family one day. Once we had children, we both wanted me to stay home and be the full-time caretaker. Mr. Universe would be teaching.

I was horrified at what I was seeing on my television screen. How could two kids do this? How could they kill their fellow students? No matter how angry I was at other students for picking on me or my friends, it never occured to me that this kind of violence was an option. I believe most of us feel this way.

I called my mom. "Have you seen what's on TV?" I cried into the phone. My mother is a teacher. I wondered if she was ever afraid of students like this. Mom tried to calm me a bit, and that when I said to her what has stuck in my mind since that day.

Someday, some student may be depressed and angry, and that student is going to come to school with guns and bombs and who knows what else. That students isn't going to care what happens to anyone else, and my husband could be a teacher at that school, and my husband could get shot. I will never see my husband alive again because some kid is having a bad day.

I know that it is a silly, irrational fear, but a fear it is. When this incident happened on Friday, all those fears from 1999 came back. It hit just too close to home this time. I don't know if this student really would do anything. I'm sure many of us have made at least a mental hit list at one time or another, but would never act on such thoughts. It could be true of this student. He may just need some professional counseling and maybe some anger management courses. I don't know. This particular incident really may be just nothing. But it still scares me.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Time Waster

If I'm not doing what I should be doing, it's because I went and got myself addicted to this. Pretty simple, but I keep playing anyway. What do you do when you are wasting time on one thing instead of doing what you should be doing?

Random Friday

Yes, I know I'm writing this on Sunday, and really it's only going to be Sunday for one more minute, so maybe this will show up as Monday. But that helps this become more of a Random Friday, right? Because it's random. You expected it on Friday, and instead you get it now. It's random.

Justification works sometimes.


I am sending out Christmas cards this year. I don't get to it every year, but I'm bound and determined to do it this year. SO... email me your addresses, my friends. You are on my list. If you are family, well, 10 bucks says I already have your address. If I don't, I'll call you.

Included in the Christmas card may or may not be a family picture (depends on if I can get all of us to look decent and sit still long enough for the timer to go off on the camera!), and will most likely have the Dreaded Yearly Update Letter.

I know most people complain about these letters and how they just brag and brag. However, I actually enjoy reading them from other people. Yes, I do get a bit envious at other people's lives, but I enjoy knowing about the good things in their lives. I enjoy hearing that little Bobby Joe was on the honor roll for the third year in a row as well as achieving a record number of Boy Scout badges and winning the little elementary school track meet. Really I do. Because I know I am sending YOU a letter bragging about Aiden's amazing reading skills, Dallin's amazing verbal skills, and Parker's amazing head-lifting and smiling skills. We all take pride in our kids. It's allowed.

Of course, all of you already know what's been going on because you read this blog. So you can toss the letter and just enjoy the card and (maybe) the picture.


When I was in college, I started dying my hair dark colors (because I think the natural color of my hair is just a plain, boring brown with nothing to it). Mostly I went with a dark auburn, but sometimes just a dark brown. I really like the red in my hair, but it doesn't look very natural on me if I go too carrot-y. So I stick with the auburn. I would often get compliments and, in the same breath, I was asked, "Is that your natural color?"

I wondered how much of a compliment it really is when people are questioning you on something as personal as your natural hair color. I could be wrong about that. It may not be personal at all.

Anyway, so they would compliment and ask, and I would answer with, "It's the color I was born with!"

Hey, it was honest! I was born with lots and lots of dark, auburn hair. When I was a preschooler it was bleach blonde. It went to a mousey brown in elementary school, and that's pretty much where it stayed. Although when I got my hair cut this summer and the blonde highlights were finally all cut out, I found my mousey brown hair had gotten darker. I like it darker. But it was still a boring brown.

Last week I got my hair trimmed a bit (got rid of most of the layers that were growing out horribly, so now it's slightly layered and more of a long-ish bob) and colored. It is a dark auburn again, and I love it.

Sure enough, I have gotten many compliments and questions: "I love your hair! It's so pretty! Is that your natural color?"

I'm back to my standby answer. "It's the color I was born with."


Christmas is approaching. Which means... my birthday is coming! Do you know how old I'm gonna be this year? Thirty. That's right. The big 3-0. Will I now finally be treated more as an adult? Not some twenty-something punk who doesn't know what being an adult really is? Not some teenager who has yet to grow up? I doubt it. Because they are saying things about how people live longer, and 40 is the new 25 or something. Who is "they" anyway? Where do we get these things from?

So anyway, I guess I'm still just a kid. Or, as Ches likes to say, a spring chicken. Or maybe he says chick. I haven't heard him use the phrase in a few years, so I suddenly don't remember.

I should delete that last paragraph because that is just verbal vomit.


I'm trying so hard to get Eragon read for the Book Club, but things just keep happening at our house! I pick up the book and seriously only read abouttwo paragraphs when Parker needs a diaper change. Or Aiden is screaming at Dallin to get off his bed and go away. Or the phone rings with a call for Haseem Muhommad yet again. I am normally a freakishly fast reader, but I just can't seem to get this thing read. Hopefully in the next couple of days it will get better. Because I'm actually starting to enjoy it. I wasn't sure what to expect because it's fantasy, and that isn't normally what I enjoy reading. That's Ches' thing. However, if it's a well-written, just plain good plot, I'll read anything.


It got up to 88 degrees today. Yes, you read that right. 88. Eighty-freaking-eight. Thanksgiving is this week, and I'm still wearing shorts and sandals. Crazy go nuts.


Parker is such a happy baby. He smiles a lot now. I mean, he smiles a LOT. And it's postitively adorable. My boys have inherited their father's extremely long and beautiful eyelashes (yes, you are allowed to complain about the fairness of all these males getting such great eyelashes). As babies, whenever they would smile I would notice the same thing that is happening now with Parker. I swear that when Parker smiles, his eyelashes grow an inch. It's just beautiful. Also, his whole face lights up, and you can't help but smile back at the wide open grin he has. I think he's going to have dimples, like his brothers. SO CUTE.

I have to say, Ches and I make the cutest, most adorable babies in the entire world, hands down.


Quote of the day:
We are often mistaken about art. Art is not emotion. Art is the medium in which emotion is expressed.
--Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979)

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Millions of Fingers! Millions of Thumbs!

This month is Drum Month. I don't know why, or who says, except that on my newsletter from Cool Mom Picks it said November is Drum Month. So...

Dust off your Remo heads, my friends, and beat the heck out of something! When changing the tire on your vehicle, compare tightening the lugnuts to tightening the screws on a drum rather than the other way around. Dig out the cool black t-shirt that says Zildjian on it. Talk about the advances in musicianship that Ringo Starr brought to the Beatles through his visionary rhythms. Have a debate on whether there is a difference in sound quality when using traditional grip or match grip. Carry a stick bag on your shoulder, or just have a couple of sticks in the back pocket of your jeans. Find your felt and yarn and have a mallet wrapping party. There are so many things you can do during drum month.

Dum ditty dum ditty dum dum dum.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

My Sunday I's (12 for the 12th)

1. I love to take a Sunday nap for hours on end

2. I enjoy watching other people struggle with their kids a bit at church because it makes me feel like we're actually normal

3. I think I became the answer to someone's prayer today

4. I like the warm, fuzzy feeling that I have by being that answer

5. I am going to watch some kids after school next semester

6. I hope to make some money off of it, but if I don't, oh well

7. I need to reorganize my drawer in the filing cabinet

8. I have really wierd dreams sometimes

9. I wake up confused and can't tell the difference between reality and my dream

10. I made a wish list on titled "Stuff I Can't Afford"

11. I really can afford some of the stuff, but not all at once, and some of it just seems silly to go out and buy just for the heck of it

12. I love that the weather cooled down a bit today and yesterday

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Gettin' My Vote On

I voted on Tuesday. I'm quite proud of myself, but it was really stressful. I mean, how hard is it to make a few small decisions, right? Ha.

First of all, I have now voted in states and in three different ways. In Idaho I filled in a little circle (like a standardized test or something) with a pencil. In Nevada I pressed what looked like a button on an electronic screen, then reviewed all my choices before saving it, then got a little print-out verifying my votes. Here in Arizona I was given very large pieces of paper, given a "special" pen (seemed like a nice felt pen was all), and was told to connect the back line to the front arrow so it looked like one long arrow. I guess if I made a mistake, well, tough luck. No one ever told me what to do about that.

Second of all, I took all three kids with me to vote. I had meticulously gone through the sample ballot sent to me in the mail so I would know what proposition was what and I would be prepared. I had talked to Aiden about how blessed we are to live in a country that allows us, the people, to pick our own leaders, and this is how we get to pick them: we go vote for who we think is best and good and true and hope that everyone else feels the same way. I made sure I had my ID ready to show at the polls. I piled the kids in the van, and we were off. We made up a silly little song to sing about voting: "I get to vo-o-o-o-ote today! We're going to vo-o-o-o-ote today! Oh it's so fun to vo-o-o-o-ote!" Aiden and Parker were perfect during the voting. Well, Parker slept, so he really wasn't a problem. Dallin --my beautiful, innocent-looking devil child-- decided that this was the perfect place to run around, screaming and laughing very loudly. It took me forever to get the voting done because I had to keep chasing after Dallin! It was so embarrassing. I hope I voted for who and what I wanted. You never can tell when you have to leave the table 40twelve times to chase after the little monster.

Third of all, I really and truely tried to research the issues and the candidates, but it was really hard! There should really be a link on your sample ballot to a nonpartisan, completely objective and neutral website that says, "So and So is running for Blah Blah office. He believes this and this. Such and Such is the also running for Blah Blah office. She believes that and that. Proposition 10hundred is really saying la-dee-da and is supported by these High-falutin' groups." Wouldn't that make life just perfect? Which is why, of course, there is no such website. Maybe I could start working on one for the next presidential election. Uuuuhhhhh, NO!! Am I nuts?? (Don't actually answer that, please).

Fourth of all (good thing I wasn't counting on my hands, huh? 'cuz then I'd be a four-handed freak), I just plain stress out at the idea of voting for something and maybe I don't actually know who or what it stands for and I just helped vote in something I am completely against. And what about these measures that are like they are about one thing, but they have a million other hidden agendas in them?? That scares the heck outta me. I don't know if I just voted to raise the minimum wage or if I really voted to let someone come into my workplace and steal my identity!! (I don't know how those are connected, but there was some commercial about it).

Here are the good things about my voting:
1) I did my Civic Duty and now feel like an Upstanding Citizen
2) I am now allowed to complain about the state of affairs in this country because I voted. I just won't let you know if I voted for something that actually made it worse and I am now complaining about it
3) I got a cool sticker (they even gave me one each for Aiden and Dallin!) which I proudly wore the rest of the day

And now I'm ending with a gratuitous sentence so... well, Karen sounded better when she said it. Never mind.

Here We go Again

Okay innernets... do you like this one better than the face with no nose? I do. Although I really liked the eyes on the last one. Anyrate...

Trying this out for size. I don't actually meditate or do yoga like the cool girl here does (I'm pretending she's me), but I should. I'm holding a contest, too. What do you think is going on in her (my) head? Come up with a good sentence or two, and it could be my next tagline!! :)

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

And Then The One Penguin Yelled To The Other... "Hot Chocolate!"

I love hot chocolate. It's my favorite drink, I believe. Between my sister, Lura, and me, we keep the hot chocolate business from ever going under. Seriously. I mean, here I am, drinking a nice big mug of hot chocolate, and it's freakin' 90 degrees outside!! However, the last time I looked at a calendar, it said November on top. November means cool weather, warm sweaters, pretty red leaves falling from trees, and a very yummy mug of hot chocolate.

You got a problem with that? Doesn't matter. I'm the one overheating myself to enjoy the silky delight being poured down my throat. You can go drink your ice cold Coke or something. I'm keeping my hot chocolate.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Testing 1-2-3

Well, I'm going for a new look. And figuring out how to personalize stuff, too. We'll see how it goes. So far, it's very slow-going, especially since I can only work on it for a couple of minutes before the kids go nuts... which they are right now.

So... what do you think? Is it me, or should I keep looking? I'm debating in my head.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Joke of the Day

What is the difference between a large pizza with everything on it and a high school band director?

A large pizza really can feed a family of four.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Friday Friday Friday!!!

Yes folks, it is Friday. I have gotten confused every single day this week as to what day it was, and even today I was unsure. But now that I have it in my head, I am SO hapy for it to be Friday! Friday means tomorrow is Saturday. Saturday means Mr. Universe doesn't have to go to work, so we get to hang out. Saturday means we get housework and yardwork done, and we get ready for Sunday. Sunday means after the stress of getting to church on time (which never happens anymore), we have a relaxing day of rest, peace, learning, and worship.

Then Sunday evening comes and we start to think about Monday, and I don't want to think about Monday yet, so I will stick to the issue at hand which is...



Driving home from Wal-Mart the other day I saw a school bus which looks a lot different than what I normally see. Usually I see the standard "Blue Bird" model. I remember when that was the "new" kind when I was in high school. We always wanted the Blue Birds for our band trips. They were bigger and roomier and just plain looked nicer. However, if the football team had something going on, you can believe we didn't get the Blue Birds. We got the old, crappy busses. Oh well. We had an awesome semi-trailer for band (named Big Bertha, pronounced Big Berfa) and the football team didn't have that. I wonder if I can find a picture of Big Bertha.

So anyway... this bus I saw the other day...

It looked like a huge, pimped out kind of bus. It had a fancy black top, looked like it sat higher than the Blue Bird, had a deeper yellow with black trim, and just plain looked awesome. Anyone else seen the tricked out school bus in their district?


We went Trick-or-Treating Tuesday night, with just small success. Most houses in our neighborhood didn't have their lights on. It was pretty disapointing to be out walking for an hour and get so little candy.

The first house we went to (about three houses down from us) gave the kids cans of Pepsi. I drank Aiden's Pepsi yesterday, and I have to say that I don't like Pepsi. Yuck. I mean, I'm not a big pop drinker anyway, but colas just aren't that great to me. I can handle a Coke every now and then, but I prefer Dr. Pepper. Or Vanilla Coke. If I'm going to drink pop, it's usually Sprite or Dr. Pepper. I remember liking the Pepsi One when it came out while I was in college (some promo people were passing them out on campus, so I drank a few... I didn't hate Pepsi back then). I wonder what happened. Anyway... I don't like Pepsi anymore.


Being the reality TV junkies that we are (okay, so actually I'm the one who watches all the crazy little reality shows like Laguna Beach or My Super Sweet Sixteen), we have been following Survivor quite religiously since the very first season. We only dropped out during the third season (Africa) because it was so flippin' aweful. B-o-r-i-n-g! We started up with Season 4 again.

This season there is a contestant name Parvati. Being a Harry Potter fan, I immediately recognized the name. However, in the wizarding world, the name is pronounced Par-VAH-tee, and on the Survivor island it is pronounced PAR-vuh-tee. It bugged me for the longest time, but now I'm used to it. Except every now and then it sounds like someone is calling her Poverty.


Dallin is becoming quite a little talker. He is learning how to put sentences together. When we were at the park yesterday and on a walk today, he loved to point and say, "Look! Clouds." or "Look! A tree." I'm also impressed at his usage of the word "I". He uses it correctly! He says things like, "I cry" and "I fall". When he dumped a bunch of food off the tray of his booster seat, he said, "I mess." He is identifying more and more things, and you can tell he is proud to show off all the words he now knows. He's very good at pointing things out to us. A crayon. A bird. Grass. Aiden. Parker sleeping, sssssshhhhhhhh.


I am currently reading Teacher Man by Frank McCourt (who also wrote Angela's Ashes and 'Tis). It's really good. It's all about his years teaching in New York City. I love how honest he is about everything. He acts as if he never had a clue of what to do and how to handle the kids. These were not easy kids he had to teach, either. This is a story about a teacher and his experience in the classroom, and it's real story. There's no real feel-good moment like in Mr. Holland's Opus or something (which yes, I know is a movie, but I'm making a comparison of the story, not the method in which the story is told). This is what it's really like to be a teacher in the city in the US. His narrative is like it's straight from his head, not a carefully planned out scripts of "and then she said...". I highly recommend this book... if you don't mind a bit of swearing. There's plenty of that.


I downloaded a new Barenaked Ladies song yesterday. It's from their new album, Barenaked Ladies are Me. The song is called "Maybe You're Right". I like it a lot. This album in general seems more mellow and less, I don't know, "schizo" than past albums. I love their high energy songs, but this doesn't have that. It's being described as more mature, and I guess that it. Anyway, it seems like a good album over all.

Erica got to see BNL the other night. I'm insanely jealous. That was her second time to see them in concert, and it was her second concert of the semester (she got to see the Rolling Stones earlier this semester). I have neber been to a rock concert. Ever. I want to go! BNL will be here in December, but we don't have money to go. Erica said she is going to sell her plasma or blood or something and give me the $50 so Ches and I can go. Even though tickets start at $35. She said I'll just have to buy them form a sclaper, like she did. She got a $60 ticket for $20, she said. Lucky.


I've decided to make myself a t-shirt with this slogan on it:

Yes, I have my hands full.
Thanks for noticing.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Is That A Mark On Your Forehead, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

It was Labor Day weekend, 1997. Ches had taken me to Calgary to meet his family. (Perhaps I should spell it Labour Day then??) We had been dating for about 6 months, and in that short time I knew I wanted to marry this man. So I wanted to make a good impression on what I hoped would be my future in-laws. Ches' mother was able to get us discount tickets so we went with Ches' parents, brother, Tim, Tim's then-girlfriend Alyson, and their little sister, Rachel to go up the Calgary Tower to the observation deck.

Previously in the summer, the extended family had their annual family reunion up in Calgary, and this was one of the places many people had visited.

It was quite a view up there. It was a perfect day, to be sure. You could see really far. We were having a great time together, all of us telling jokes and stories. Tim and Ches were telling us about the family reunion as we took in the view.

"Remember when we came up here in June? LaDawn leaned over and smacked her forehead right against the window! It was sooo funny!!"

It was at that moment that I leaned out a bit, and I smacked my forehead against the window. Ow.

"Yeah! Just like that!" Tim exclaimed. It took him (and Ches) a moment to realize I didn't do that on purpose. Everyone had a great time laughing at me.

The window was slanted out, and it's actually really hard to tell exactly where the window is! Honest!

Several minutes later, Tim and Alyson were talking about it, and Alyson smacked her forehead on the window! A few minutes after that, I did it again! Oh, the laughter. I was pretty embarrassed, but glad that Alyson did it, too. I didn't feel quite as stupid.

To be fair (to Alyson, LaDawn, and myself), there were a lot of marks on the windows. I doubt we are the only ones to smack our foreheads on the windows of the Calgary Tower.


We were reminded of this story tonight as I was looking out the patio doors tonight. We have the sliding glass doors, and I was looking for a toy on the patio. Somehow, I leaned in and smacked my forehead on the door. Hard.

Ches laughed and said, "It's not even slanted! How did you do that?"

I can't believe I actually did that. And now I have a small headache.