Several months ago, poor Shnookie4 went through a horrible week of consistent, severe headaches. Then they just disappeared. Until now. He's been in frequent pain for a couple of weeks now. On Sunday, I told him that if he wasn't better the next day, I'd call and make a doctor's appointment for him. I was at the fabric store the next day when I got a text from him saying he still felt rotten. I told him to tell Hubby and ask him to set an appointment.
I got home from the store, which is when Hubby told me about the appointment and all. Then he said, "Just so you know when you get there, I told them he needs his heart checked." Puzzled, I said, "Why in the world would you tell them that?" Well...evidently, Shnookie texted him the following message: "Dad, please call the doctor. I need him to look at my head." Hubby--not a huge texter and without glasses on--saw 'head' as 'heart.' And there you are. (However, when they asked what Shnookie's symptoms are, Hubby told them his head was really killing him.)
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
DUH-BULL-YOU DUH-BULL-YOU DUH-BULL-YOU
Today I am angry with the world wide web. You may notice the irony in me using the world wide web as a vehicle to vent about the world wide web, but here’s where I’ll get to go “HA!” followed by a long explanation concluding with “I rest my case.”
After a long convoluted thought process the other night (yup—lost the remote again), I realized that I have lost a precious and significant portion of my life to the dummies who decided to call it the world wide web.
Think about it. Sure, it’s only 3 little syllables to utter aloud. World Wide Web. HOWEVER, who ever calls it by its whole name? We are, afterall a shortcut society who will use an acronym even when it takes longer than just saying the actual phrase. THUS, we end up using the longest letter in the alphabet--DUH-BULL-YOU—not once, but 3 times, over and over everyday all over the world.
Based on the statistic that 82% of statistics are made up on the spot, I feel confident saying that this waste of breath has robbed the average person of .75% of his or her life. That may only equal a month (or not…I can’t be bothered with math), but that’s a whole month one could spend playing Farkle.
Let’s face it…there are so many other names these buffoons could have given the web, even if they wanted to stick with the catchy alliteration. Global Guidance Generator…Cosmic Connection Circulator… Intercontinental Information Infuser. And that’s just off the top of my thesaurus.
In conclusion, I rest my case.
Be sure and tune into my next rant at ggg.ablognamedBETTY. com.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Here, have a fake cigar
So, I participated in the "grandmother for a weekend" program. I don't want to brag, but I think I did pretty well. I should be ready to grandmother a real baby sometime in the next decade.
Shnookie2 is taking child development in school, and the pinnacle of that experience is being entrusted with a fake baby for a weekend. And when I say 'fake,' I mean fake on steroids. These babies have computers inside that simulate the craziness of motherhood pretty well. In fact, I think they may have surpassed the mark on discouraging teen pregnancy here--we'll be lucky if this generation will EVER have children after a weekend with these little gremlins.
As you may have guessed, this weekend was Shnookie's long-awaited turn with Robo Baby. She was hoping for an Asian boy, but ended up with a Caucasian girl (we've all been there). Of course, she was just thankful it was healthy. She named her Payton Shea Bishlack (which is the compound last name Shnookie's friends have started using for her to avoid the 2 last-names confusion). Please note that Payton is pronounced according the Utah dialect: no T... "Pay-en." (To hear Shnookie saying it like a Utahn over and over was somewhat disturbing. Then I realized that she has been raised in Utah, so what do I expect?? It's not like I can blame someone else! Not that I won't try...)
Here's a picture of Pay-en with her custodial parent. (She won't tell me who the father is, but I'm suspecting it's either one of those Old Navy mannequins or else Ken ((Barbie will be livid!))):
I think she has my nose. Speaking of which, the girls were playing the "I'm gonna steal your nose" game with her, and she didn't smile once. Hmph! Fake kids these days.
In case you haven't seen one of these babies, the rules are pretty much like Parenting 101. When it cries, try changing its diaper or feeding it or burping it. If you do the right thing, it will giggle once and then be quiet. HOWEVER, sometimes it just cries and there's nothing that will make it stop. That was a condition I was all too familiar with. This process goes on 24/7--right through the night.
The biggest concern when mothering one of these creatures is that you avoid abuse at all costs. You can't let its head tip back, or drop it, or shake it, etc, because it registers abuse in its little implant computer and its parent will have to answer for it. Protecting your charge sounds much more simple than it is, since humans seem to have an inordinate amount of macabre curiosity. Social situations--especially of the teenage boy variety--are a nightmare. Evidently, there is nothing more people would like to do than throw a plastic baby against the wall and see what happens. And the more Shnookie begged them not to hurt it, the more they wanted to see blood. I had to reassure Shnookie repeatedly that this phenomenon is unique to fake babies and she won't have to fight people off of her future real babies. We are an odd group, we humans!
So here's the visual that will stay with me from this experience: Me walking out of the chapel and seeing Shnookie2, holding her baby out in the foyer, right in the middle of a group of other mothers and their (real) babies. They were swapping stories. I kid you not!
And here's the audio I will remember, from a phone call: "MOM!! Come and get the baby! I'm in a meeting and she won't stop crying!!"
Well, I drove over to the meeting, picked up the baby, and thanked my lucky stars that I will never hear that phrase again from my teenage daughter.
And then I went home and put the baby in the dryer on fluff cycle. Just to see what would happen.
Shnookie2 is taking child development in school, and the pinnacle of that experience is being entrusted with a fake baby for a weekend. And when I say 'fake,' I mean fake on steroids. These babies have computers inside that simulate the craziness of motherhood pretty well. In fact, I think they may have surpassed the mark on discouraging teen pregnancy here--we'll be lucky if this generation will EVER have children after a weekend with these little gremlins.
As you may have guessed, this weekend was Shnookie's long-awaited turn with Robo Baby. She was hoping for an Asian boy, but ended up with a Caucasian girl (we've all been there). Of course, she was just thankful it was healthy. She named her Payton Shea Bishlack (which is the compound last name Shnookie's friends have started using for her to avoid the 2 last-names confusion). Please note that Payton is pronounced according the Utah dialect: no T... "Pay-en." (To hear Shnookie saying it like a Utahn over and over was somewhat disturbing. Then I realized that she has been raised in Utah, so what do I expect?? It's not like I can blame someone else! Not that I won't try...)
Here's a picture of Pay-en with her custodial parent. (She won't tell me who the father is, but I'm suspecting it's either one of those Old Navy mannequins or else Ken ((Barbie will be livid!))):
I think she has my nose. Speaking of which, the girls were playing the "I'm gonna steal your nose" game with her, and she didn't smile once. Hmph! Fake kids these days.In case you haven't seen one of these babies, the rules are pretty much like Parenting 101. When it cries, try changing its diaper or feeding it or burping it. If you do the right thing, it will giggle once and then be quiet. HOWEVER, sometimes it just cries and there's nothing that will make it stop. That was a condition I was all too familiar with. This process goes on 24/7--right through the night.
The biggest concern when mothering one of these creatures is that you avoid abuse at all costs. You can't let its head tip back, or drop it, or shake it, etc, because it registers abuse in its little implant computer and its parent will have to answer for it. Protecting your charge sounds much more simple than it is, since humans seem to have an inordinate amount of macabre curiosity. Social situations--especially of the teenage boy variety--are a nightmare. Evidently, there is nothing more people would like to do than throw a plastic baby against the wall and see what happens. And the more Shnookie begged them not to hurt it, the more they wanted to see blood. I had to reassure Shnookie repeatedly that this phenomenon is unique to fake babies and she won't have to fight people off of her future real babies. We are an odd group, we humans!
So here's the visual that will stay with me from this experience: Me walking out of the chapel and seeing Shnookie2, holding her baby out in the foyer, right in the middle of a group of other mothers and their (real) babies. They were swapping stories. I kid you not!
And here's the audio I will remember, from a phone call: "MOM!! Come and get the baby! I'm in a meeting and she won't stop crying!!"
Well, I drove over to the meeting, picked up the baby, and thanked my lucky stars that I will never hear that phrase again from my teenage daughter.
And then I went home and put the baby in the dryer on fluff cycle. Just to see what would happen.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Things that go bump in the night
We had a bit of excitement in the neighborhood last night. Unfortunately, we were at the center of it. And nary a single one of us even knew it at the time. There we were, going about our business, blissfully ignorant (like always). Personally, I was on this here machine, cursing the phone for its ringing, ringing, ringing while I was doggedly ignoring, ignoring, ignoring it. Next thing I knew, half the neighborhood was on our doorstep, knocking, knocking, knocking.
(Take note: when there's an emergency and you don't answer your phone, your neighbors will gather all their friends and come to your door.)
Through my dogged ignoringness, I hear my kids open the door (they just don't get the 'hit-the-floor-and-don't-move' policy we have for such occasions.), and I hear the words "car" "tree" and "Snookie1" float up to me. You can imagine how fast I threw down the laptop and flew downstairs. When I got the whole sentence, it went something this: "Shnookie1's car just rolled down the hill and hit our tree. He's not in it."
Okay, whew. But last I knew, Shnookie1 wasn't even home, so I was a wee bit confused. (Evidently,this is another disadvantage about holing up in your room with the laptop. Children come and go and live their lives without you.) Anyway, I found him in the shower (well, not literally). I was pounding on the bathroom door, yelling the situation through it. No doubt he only heard snippets like "your car" and "tree," because his "what?"s became more and more incredulous the more I yelled. Finally, I belted a "GET OUT OF THE SHOWER AND COME HERE!!!"
We live at the top of a curved incline. Somehow, Shnook's car started it's little journey ever so slowly, then picked up momentum on the hill, where it crossed the street, missed a shiny new truck by mere inches, went across a lawn and then met with a sturdy tree. If it had missed the tree, it would've continued straight into a house. And by then it would've been going at a pretty good clip.
By the time Shnookie1 and I got there, quite a crowd had gathered. Who knew that many people were out after dark on a Monday night?! I, of course, grabbed my camera before we left home. (I told myself it was for insurance purposes, but who am I kidding? I want to be able to remind him of this the rest of his life in visual form.)
Here's the scene: (Shnook isn't slumped over; he's bending over to see the ignition.)
And here's how the tree looks:
I think everyone will live.
We're still not sure exactly how the car got a'rollin. It's always parked in the same place, and it's never happened before. Shnook is pretty sure he had it in park, but who knows. My theory? The Headless Horseman moved to town recently and is chaffing from too much time in the saddle. He saw a sweet ride (he's headless--he can't see well) with cushy seats and took off in it. Obviously, it's the only logical conclusion.
(Take note: when there's an emergency and you don't answer your phone, your neighbors will gather all their friends and come to your door.)
Through my dogged ignoringness, I hear my kids open the door (they just don't get the 'hit-the-floor-and-don't-move' policy we have for such occasions.), and I hear the words "car" "tree" and "Snookie1" float up to me. You can imagine how fast I threw down the laptop and flew downstairs. When I got the whole sentence, it went something this: "Shnookie1's car just rolled down the hill and hit our tree. He's not in it."
Okay, whew. But last I knew, Shnookie1 wasn't even home, so I was a wee bit confused. (Evidently,this is another disadvantage about holing up in your room with the laptop. Children come and go and live their lives without you.) Anyway, I found him in the shower (well, not literally). I was pounding on the bathroom door, yelling the situation through it. No doubt he only heard snippets like "your car" and "tree," because his "what?"s became more and more incredulous the more I yelled. Finally, I belted a "GET OUT OF THE SHOWER AND COME HERE!!!"
We live at the top of a curved incline. Somehow, Shnook's car started it's little journey ever so slowly, then picked up momentum on the hill, where it crossed the street, missed a shiny new truck by mere inches, went across a lawn and then met with a sturdy tree. If it had missed the tree, it would've continued straight into a house. And by then it would've been going at a pretty good clip.
By the time Shnookie1 and I got there, quite a crowd had gathered. Who knew that many people were out after dark on a Monday night?! I, of course, grabbed my camera before we left home. (I told myself it was for insurance purposes, but who am I kidding? I want to be able to remind him of this the rest of his life in visual form.)
Here's the scene: (Shnook isn't slumped over; he's bending over to see the ignition.)
And here's how the tree looks:
I think everyone will live.
We're still not sure exactly how the car got a'rollin. It's always parked in the same place, and it's never happened before. Shnook is pretty sure he had it in park, but who knows. My theory? The Headless Horseman moved to town recently and is chaffing from too much time in the saddle. He saw a sweet ride (he's headless--he can't see well) with cushy seats and took off in it. Obviously, it's the only logical conclusion.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A Most Excellent Adventure
So, I took me a little jaunt to Washington DC a few weeks ago. I was accompanied by my dear friend, Merrie, which was fun just in itself. And also well-balanced, because she's a democrat and I'm a republican. These things matter in DC. We stayed at her friend, Matt's, place, which was only a skip and a jump away in Arlington, VA. Well, unless you get lost, and then it can be a skip, a 2-hour loop, and then a jump away.
Okay, so it happens that we spent A LOT of our time lost. I prefer to call it 'forced exploration.' I'd never been there before, and getting lost afforded me the pleasure of seeing so many things! (Sometimes the same thing. Over and over. DC has a lot of loops!) For instance, the first day we were supposed to be headed South, to Matt's place, when we turned a corner and BAM! there is the Washington Monument looming over us. Oops, that would be North, but WOW! I was so excited! I get a little flusterpated when I see real things that I've seen in books, so I spent a lot of time hyperventilating (but mostly on the inside. don't want to cause a scene!).
There's really too much to tell, but I must share one story. Merrie and were resting on a bench by the Lincoln Memorial, and this squirrel jumped up onto the lamp post right beside me. "Great photo opp!" I'm thinking, "Who knows when I'll be that close to a squirrel again?" Here he is, cute, cute, cute!
Next thing I know, Merrie has pulled out a Milano cookie, and that critter jumps into my lap to get it. It was a bit of a shock, but at least I was coherent enough to point and click.
That right there just proves what anyone/thing will go through to get a Milano.
When I talked to Shnookie3 that night, I said I had something cool to tell her. So I told her the story about Mr. Squirrel. She said, "I thought you were going to tell me that you walked by Obama or something!" So I'm thinking the squirrel is kinda lame compared to that. But then she says, "But this is WAY better!" That right there says how much kids admire politicians these days, don't ya think?
Another story: Merrie got it into her head that we needed to make our husbands believe that we found boyfriends out there (besides Mr. Squirrel). So she was on the outlook for some suitable candidates the whole day we were at the American Mall. It was a great day for characters, since it was the day that all those conservatives came to picket Obama at the capital. All sorts of people were carrying signs and wearing t-shirts. Poor Mr. Obama...he was not popular in that crowd!
Anyway, toward the end of our day, Merrie spots these 3 guys, wearing matching red, white & blue flag shirts and cowboy boots. Zing went the strings of her heart, I guess, because she just had to get her picture taken with them. Here they are with her:
That right there says that even a card-carrying democrat loves her a bunch of red, white & blue blooded republicans! :)
Soon after this, we were ready to walk to our car. On our way, we saw a cool structure and took some pics there. Merrie was down, laying ON the GROUND, taking pictures of me in front of it, when these same patriot hotties happen to walk up! Okay, so it's a total coincidence, but we prefer to tell ourselves that our incredible magnetism pulled them that way. And they jump in the pictures, this time with me. And apparently, the photo opp with Merrie got them riled up, cause they really came out of their shells for this batch!
That's Mr. Cowboy Hat's tongue reaching toward my ear. Yup.
Ohhhhh, I haven't laughed that hard in awhile. That right there proves how silly grown people can get when they're high on America.
Finally, I have to say that I got to see more art in REAL LIFE, which makes me super, super flusterpated! We went to the National Museum of Art, and it was amazing! I about passed out when they told me I could take actual pictures inside of the museum! Yes, I brought the whole museum home with me on my camera. But here's just 3 of my favorites:
Seeing this painting (by Fragonard) in real life really took my breath away. A copy of it hung in the RS room in the church where I grew up, and I've always loved it. The richness of the color and brushstrokes is astounding in the original.
By Matisse
by Degas. It's the only sculpture he ever put in an exhibition. It's quite stunning.
I really enjoyed this trip. The weather was gorgeous, and I loved how lush the area is. But most of all, I was happy to share it with Merrie. She's so open to new experiences and fun-loving and friendly and easy-going and just a delight! Where we goin next, Mer??
Okay, so it happens that we spent A LOT of our time lost. I prefer to call it 'forced exploration.' I'd never been there before, and getting lost afforded me the pleasure of seeing so many things! (Sometimes the same thing. Over and over. DC has a lot of loops!) For instance, the first day we were supposed to be headed South, to Matt's place, when we turned a corner and BAM! there is the Washington Monument looming over us. Oops, that would be North, but WOW! I was so excited! I get a little flusterpated when I see real things that I've seen in books, so I spent a lot of time hyperventilating (but mostly on the inside. don't want to cause a scene!).
There's really too much to tell, but I must share one story. Merrie and were resting on a bench by the Lincoln Memorial, and this squirrel jumped up onto the lamp post right beside me. "Great photo opp!" I'm thinking, "Who knows when I'll be that close to a squirrel again?" Here he is, cute, cute, cute!
Next thing I know, Merrie has pulled out a Milano cookie, and that critter jumps into my lap to get it. It was a bit of a shock, but at least I was coherent enough to point and click.
That right there just proves what anyone/thing will go through to get a Milano.When I talked to Shnookie3 that night, I said I had something cool to tell her. So I told her the story about Mr. Squirrel. She said, "I thought you were going to tell me that you walked by Obama or something!" So I'm thinking the squirrel is kinda lame compared to that. But then she says, "But this is WAY better!" That right there says how much kids admire politicians these days, don't ya think?
Another story: Merrie got it into her head that we needed to make our husbands believe that we found boyfriends out there (besides Mr. Squirrel). So she was on the outlook for some suitable candidates the whole day we were at the American Mall. It was a great day for characters, since it was the day that all those conservatives came to picket Obama at the capital. All sorts of people were carrying signs and wearing t-shirts. Poor Mr. Obama...he was not popular in that crowd!
Anyway, toward the end of our day, Merrie spots these 3 guys, wearing matching red, white & blue flag shirts and cowboy boots. Zing went the strings of her heart, I guess, because she just had to get her picture taken with them. Here they are with her:
That right there says that even a card-carrying democrat loves her a bunch of red, white & blue blooded republicans! :)Soon after this, we were ready to walk to our car. On our way, we saw a cool structure and took some pics there. Merrie was down, laying ON the GROUND, taking pictures of me in front of it, when these same patriot hotties happen to walk up! Okay, so it's a total coincidence, but we prefer to tell ourselves that our incredible magnetism pulled them that way. And they jump in the pictures, this time with me. And apparently, the photo opp with Merrie got them riled up, cause they really came out of their shells for this batch!
That's Mr. Cowboy Hat's tongue reaching toward my ear. Yup.Ohhhhh, I haven't laughed that hard in awhile. That right there proves how silly grown people can get when they're high on America.
Finally, I have to say that I got to see more art in REAL LIFE, which makes me super, super flusterpated! We went to the National Museum of Art, and it was amazing! I about passed out when they told me I could take actual pictures inside of the museum! Yes, I brought the whole museum home with me on my camera. But here's just 3 of my favorites:
Seeing this painting (by Fragonard) in real life really took my breath away. A copy of it hung in the RS room in the church where I grew up, and I've always loved it. The richness of the color and brushstrokes is astounding in the original.
By Matisse
by Degas. It's the only sculpture he ever put in an exhibition. It's quite stunning.I really enjoyed this trip. The weather was gorgeous, and I loved how lush the area is. But most of all, I was happy to share it with Merrie. She's so open to new experiences and fun-loving and friendly and easy-going and just a delight! Where we goin next, Mer??
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Skack to Bool
I did some back-to-school shopping for BETTY. After all, it's hardly fair to spend on everyone else and leave her out. Doesn't she look fetching? Poor thing hasn't had a new look in ages. Why, it's tantamount to blog abuse. Anyone know a support group she can go to?
And speaking of back-to-school, the shnookies are...well...back to school! It's a pretty big year for all of them, with #1 starting his SENIOR year, #2 starting her first year in high school, #3 being top of the heap in 6th grade, and #4 launching into 4th grade--the signal of her downward trip in grade school. Oh my, I think I lost an inch just thinking about it--I am an old woman! (See how that works? I started out talking about them, but it always ends up about me.)
And speaking of me, I have to admit that it was a heavenly day for me. With the kids back in school and Hubby out of town, I had the whole house (except for the 6X6 area occupied by Boozer) to myself. I savored, I basked, I reveled. And then I went inside and put my clothes back on.
And speaking of back-to-school, the shnookies are...well...back to school! It's a pretty big year for all of them, with #1 starting his SENIOR year, #2 starting her first year in high school, #3 being top of the heap in 6th grade, and #4 launching into 4th grade--the signal of her downward trip in grade school. Oh my, I think I lost an inch just thinking about it--I am an old woman! (See how that works? I started out talking about them, but it always ends up about me.)
And speaking of me, I have to admit that it was a heavenly day for me. With the kids back in school and Hubby out of town, I had the whole house (except for the 6X6 area occupied by Boozer) to myself. I savored, I basked, I reveled. And then I went inside and put my clothes back on.
Friday, August 7, 2009
An Affair to Remember
I have to say, I am feeling sorry about saying goodbye to July. It is my dear friend, and I hate that I only get to see it once a year. Oh, we always promise to stay in touch, but by January, I can barely even remember its face. Come the end of February, I’ve been known to curse its name for abandoning me so completely. Luckily, I’m a born forgiver, and when July finally shows its face again, I’m there with open arms. I throw it a party, complete with all the fanfare and fireworks.
Our time together this year (as always) has been delightful. Oh, of course we have our tiffs—July can get a little hot and bothered at times, and I get all red in the face and huffy—but that’s how it is with relationships. We still part friends and only remember the good times.
I know that the majority of Americans put Christmas at the top of their friend list, but I much prefer the 4th of my best friend, July. Sure, I enjoy Christmas as much as the next guy—its pageantry, its coziness, and all of its festive activities. Beyond that, however, the relationship feels a bit one-sided. Christmas demands that I do A LOT of work to keep the love alive. Shopping, baking, shuttling, concerting…the demands just go on and on. It’s all a little high-maintenance for me. Call me selfish, but I much prefer being at the receiving end of my relationships. All that July 4th requires of me is to slap down a few lawn chairs and stir up some lemonade. In return, I’m showered with warm breezes, dazzling fireworks overhead, and giggling children running around with their sparklers.
I’m pretty much convinced that July loves visiting Draper, Utah the best. Besides the obvious attraction of *ME* being here, it knows how we like to prolong the July 4th feeling into extra innings. Toward the middle of the month, we break out the fireworks for the illustrious Draper Days, followed shortly thereafter by Pioneer Day, another celebration smacking of good ole patriotism. The whole month is literally crackling with excitement.
And so it is with great sadness that I bid farewell to my BFF, July. At least we part knowing that we've made the most of our time together and have wasted nary a moment; in fact, we had not one single tiff this year. I found July to be even more delightful than usual, with a cool temperament that pleased me to no end.
As a tribute to my dear friend, here are a few pics of the glorious time we had together this year:
A beautiful, full-mooned 4th of July at home:
Many Taylor Swift-themed garage-band concerts :
Some fun home improvement projects:
Shnookie3 discovering a love of tennis:
Draper Days, with its concerts, friends, face-painting, and the best (free) fireworks in the Rockies:
Potted plants that actually thrived for once!:
The chicken that got transplanted onto our street:
Being roped into a spray tan party (don't ask):
Soccer camp with Dean from the U.K.:
And more swimming parties than I can count (thanks to Lisa and her amazing pool!):
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
