Driving Momma

It's migraine time again. I seem to have about two weeks on...three or four weeks off. It's getting old. It hurts. It's a serious pain in the...well, head.

The other day, Chase came home from school only to be slightly disappointed, again, to find his otherwise fun Mom curled up in a headache ball. After trying to "sleep" it off for about an hour or so, I was finally able to drag my carcass out of bed so Chase and I could run the errand we were waiting to run.

As we were backing out of the garage, I found myself apologizing to my sweet little boy that weathers my incapacitation pretty well. Mixed in the middle of my apologies was some lovely whining;

"...and I am just really sorry, Buddy. I just can't seem to kick this one. It really hurts."

My sweet little seven-year old pipes up from the back seat,

"Do you need me to drive, Mom?"

You Saw What?

Chase came running into my room the other day, shouting;

"Mom! That Columbus is totally gone!"

uh, pardon me?

"What is totally gone?"

"That Columbus!"

"Are you saying 'Columbus'?"

"Yes!"

"I'm sorry, honey. I just have no idea what that means."

"You know, that big, dark rain cloud that was sitting over our house!"

"Oh, you mean the cumulonimbus?"

"Yeah, the Cumumublemumble"

After being so cuted-out by this conversation, I tried to start it up again while riding in the car;

"Chase, look at that! It is so big, and dark, and looks like it's ready to burst! What is that called again?"

Chase then shot me a look that accused me of getting my degree out of a cracker-jack box...a look that proves every child's theory that their parents know nothing. Then he stated,

"Uh, a rain cloud."

We All Have Our Weaknesses, I Guess

Last night as we were driving home from Parent/Teacher conferences, I handed Chase the 11 box tops that I have been collecting. He said,"11 box tops...that's $1.10 in dollars. Sweet. We just donated $1.10 to my school."

I thought that was pretty fast calculation on the part of his 7 year-old brain. I turned around and gave him that look. You know that look. It's the look that says, "How did you know that? You must be the most amazing, intelligent, fabulously fabulous little boy that has ever walked the planet!"

Apparently, he has seen that look from me a few times. He volunteered,

"Well, I KNOW my money. BUT...I DON'T know how to juggle."


Uh...random.

Well, Little Buddy, I don't know how to make a spoon stick to my nose...if that makes you feel any better.

Sweet 16

I am going to break formation in my chronologies here to wish my favorite team a

GO! FIGHT! WIN!!

We are happy fans right about now. I hope we are this happy in a few hours.

GO, COUGARS!

My dad treated us to the last home game for the Cougars against Wyoming. It was electrifying. Seriously. It was such a good game. The energy among the fans and the team was palpable. It didn't hurt that we won, I guess.

Thanks for a fabulous time, Grandma and Grandpa!




Jimmer Fredette.



Jimmer Fredette fan.




My brother, Clark, and Cosmo




Chase and his favorite Grandma




One of the world's biggest Cougar fans, a super grandpa, oh, and Noah Hartsock.

Seriously, Cougars...make us proud today!!

Christmas 2010

Okay. This is my last bit of journal catch up for 2010.

Finally.

Our sweet friends, the Rawsons, treated us to a trip to Salt Lake on the Front Runner, a ride to dinner on Trax, and another Trax ride to Temple Square to see the lights. What a fun night! I have lived in Utah since 1993 and this is only the second time I have ever been to see the lights on Temple Square.

Yes. I live under a rock.

We had a really great time (thank you sooo much, Rawson family!) We brought along my neice and nephew, Kaylee and Riley. Trax and the Front Runner were a super big hit.







For Christmas, we begged my sister and brother-in-law to come with their two babies. This was a huge thing to ask them since this was the babies first Christmas. They were so fabulous to oblige us. The babies seemed to have an agenda all their own, however. They both brought a stomach bug with them. If nothing else, it slowed down the pace of Christmas morning.





A very excited seven year-old had to wait for three sleep deprived adults to drag their carcases out of bed before he was allowed in to see what Santa had brought him. Once the present opening finally commenced, we would do one round of presents, then have to stop to put one baby to bed, get one baby out of bed, clean up sprinkler vomit, etc. Good times.

Seriously.




We were so excited to share Christmas with them. Who wouldn't be? Are they not just the cutest? I mean, really. The worst part of all of it was when Kirk and Heather announced to us that they had to pull the plug on our fun and took their sick babies home. We were NOT ready for them to go.




We had an amazing Christmas, to say the least. There was such a peaceful feeling in our home. We were so blessed by so many miracles. We have such an amazing family that loves us and takes such good care of us. We have the most amazing friends and ward family that leave us in complete awe. We are truly some of the most lucky people on earth.

Thank you for truly amazing Christmas!

Dear Santa...

Every year, Chase writes Santa. Every year, Mom "sends" the letter...via her scrapbook pile. This system seems to work out fine.

This year, Chase wrote Santa. This year, Chase exercises his independence. Chase puts the letter in the mail box. Mom reminds herself to retrieve the letter later that night when Chase is asleep. Mom forgets. Mom calls friend who works at post office. Mom is comforted when told that a cute little lady sits in the back of the post office answering Santa letters for all the kiddies. Comfort turns to sadness when Mom and friend realize that Chase did not put a return address on his letter. Mom's heart breaks everyday her boy runs to the mailbox...sure that this is the day he would be receiving his letter from Santa. Obvious disappointment follows. Hope returns when friend suggests that Mom write her own letter from Santa for her sweet little boy. Mom pens an amazing letter, obtains a frilly signature from a sweet friend, places letter in mailbox, sits back and watches...

Another round goes to the Momma.