Puttin' Things In Perspective

Have you seen that billboard? The one that says, "Pets are children too. Don't abandon them." It's right there outside of Las Vegas as you head south on the I-15.

It always makes me laugh because, really? Pets are children? Um, no. I mean, sure there are some similarities, especially when it comes to their manners. But, I don't feed my dog at the table and I don't leave my six year locked in a kennel for hours at a time while I'm out running errands. My kids also figured out that whole don't-pee-on-the-carpet thing, whereas the dog, eh, not so much.

This past Sunday, though, I dreaded seeing it. Guilt ate away any attempt at derisive laughter I could muster when we passed it eight hours into our twelve hour drive home from Utah to California.

By that time it had been nearly twenty-four hours since we'd seen Lola.

Aka: the stupid dog.

For on the eve of the New Year--and also of our departure--she had run away into the wilderness surrounding my parents' home. A wilderness full of coyotes, at least one wolf, and other various and assundry wildlife, but still an area she thought would be safer than the front yard where we were letting off fireworks.

We looked for her for an hour after we noticed her absence, searching with flashlights in the freezing cold, calling her name until we were too frozen to stay out any longer. The next morning we expanded our search area and put off our departure time by three hours, but without any luck. So we put three crying girls in the car and drove away, sans dog.

And now, as another cold night approached without any sign of Lola, there was the billboard staring down at me with its accusatory words. I had abandoned my "child" to the wolves, coyotes, and owls after only a three hour search. What kind of pet parent was I?

And what about all those times I had called her dummy? or stupid? Instead of appreciating her loyalty, I had complained about her always being underfoot. Instead of relishing the fact I had something who would never outgrow cuddling, I pushed her off of my lap.

You know what's even worse?

 I joked about her running away or being eaten. I said those things out loud, forgetting everything I had learned from reading half of The Secret about sending things out into the Universe. If you send out a thought to the Universe, It just might comply. And It doesn't always get black humor, so you best be careful what you throw out there.

And those Pets Are Children people must be doing all right, because there were two more of those billboards that I had never seen before, pointing their doggy paws at me. I tried to console myself that at least I had been feeding her left-over turkey and ham for the past few days. Mostly because we were out of dog food and I was too lazy to drive into town for more. But also because she liked it.

Then it occurred to me that my plying her with meaty treats made her an even tastier morsel for whatever animal had got her.

Perhaps I sound a little callous about my dog's demise, but I really did feel very sad and guilty about not finding her. And for not being more responsible and thinking to lock her up before the fireworks, knowing how skittish she is and all.

But then I remembered something...

 Four years ago on a similar New Year's Day, my friend Jenny, while on vacation in Utah, had to say an unexpected good-bye to her four year old boy after he was involved in a fatal sledding accident. She started the New Year in 2008 by putting a little casket with Russell's body in it on an airplane and flying home; her life completely changed.

Kind of puts the loss of a dog in perspective, doesn't it?

When I remembered it was the anniversary of Russell's death I started thinking about a lot of other things. Like how I would feel if it were one of my children I had lost instead of the dog. Would I be regretting I hadn't appreciated them more? stopped to hold them when they needed it? looked for the positive side of their "faults"?

I thought about that a lot. I thought about it through the next day as we still didn't have any word about our dog and I became even more certain she hadn't survived two nights out in the wild. And I thought about how much my perspective had changed when I found out Russell died. Suddenly the little things I got angry with my kids over didn't seem nearly as important as appreciating the time I had with them. The fact that no one is immune to loss hit hard and I resolved to remember that and treat my loved ones accordingly.

But then I did something Jenny can never do.

I forgot.

I forgot that things can change in an instant and without warning. I forgot that we can't determine how long we'll have a child. Or a spouse. Or a parent. Or any loved one.

I forgot that life is fragile.

So my New Year's resolution this year is this: To put things into perspective.

I will hold the things close that matter and let go of the things that don't.

And you know what happened after I made that resolution?

I got a call from my parents that my dog had been found. (Stupid dog).

But her rescue and the kindness of my parents' neighbors is a story for another blogpost.

Happy New Year!

For My 11 Year Old

Eleven years ago today, after two miscarriages, one ectopic pregnancy, many rounds of Clomid, four years of "trying", nine months of puking and unbelievable weight gain, four days of induced labor, and one C-section, Girl 1 finally "decided" (after much cajoling) to be born.

And that's sort of how things have been since Day One. Or even pre-Day One. She sorta does things on her own time and in her own way. But I'm always trying to get her to do stuff on my time frame and in my way. No doubt she was sent her to teach me how to be patient and to let go of control.

You'd think I would have learned it be now. But nope. After eleven years (fifteen if you count all the pre-birth stuff) I'm still ramming my head up against a wall, trying to get through, instead of just looking for the door in.

And maybe it's because I have so much to learn from her that my love for her is so deep, but sometimes so hard to show.

So today, this blog is for my eldest. so everyone will know just how much I love her. And because she is 11, easily embarrassed, and a follower of this blog, I will only post one picture of her doing the thing she loves very best:

Happy Birthday Emma C.!

Me vs. Christmas

I haven't heard much this year about that whole War on Christmas thing that was going on last year (or so I heard through the grapevine). Maybe it's because I don't listen to anything--and  do mean anything, I don't care what it is-- Glen Beck says. Or maybe that war really is over and I just missed the announcement.

I'll tell you what is still going on though: my war WITH Christmas.

Now before you run screaming to personally contact Mr. Beck and tell him his war is back on, let me explain. I'm not talking about the baby Jesus, reason for the season Christmas.Let me assure you, I am totally on board with that Christmas.

It's the card sending, present purchasing, treat making, party attending, holiday complicating Christmas that keeps trying to take me down.

It started when we decided to bag our plans to spend the week of Thanksgiving at my parents' house in Utah-- partly due to exhaustion and sickness and partly due to the fact my brother in New York decided to spend Christmas there. So, hubby and I decided, instead of buying a bunch of presents this year, we would surprise the kids by taking them to Utah for a big family Christmas.

At first this was an easy surprise to keep secret since hubby kept forgetting this was our plan. But then, my darling tween--who is acting very much like a teen--found out all her cousins were going to Papa and Grandma's house. And that we weren't. Thus she has spent the past month alternating between begging us to go, begging Grandma to come pick her up and stomping around the house yelling that this is going to be the worst Christmas ever. But mostly that last one.

There have been days when I have been so irritated with her that I've wanted to yell, "WE ARE GOING! THAT'S YOUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT! SURPRISE! HAPPY NOW?" And maybe one day I did yell this before she stormed out the door to school and I spent the day in bed feeling very sad that I had ruined Christmas.

But Christmas can not beat me. Because what I learned was that, when I yell, all my daughter hears is noise, not actual words. So when she came home from school and asked, "what did you scream at me this morning?" I lied. And then hubby lied too, saying, "your mom is crazy when she's mad, (okay maybe that part is true) you shouldn't believe what she's saying when she yells."

Christmas - 0. Crazy, Screaming Mom - 1

Of course in the days leading up to the exploding Mom and near Christmas win, Christmas launched a sneak attack.

Since we are not doing a bunch of toys this year-- or basically giving our kids anything on their lists-- I decided to do something special for my girls by making them some photo albums. Not the kind that require actual cutting and sticking and creating, (been there, done that, not going back) but the kind you can do on one of those photo websites--like that one that rhymes with butterfly--and all you have to do is drop the pictures where you want them, then write a little something about them. Still a lot of work, but a lot less mess.

And, luckily, a friend of mine had a coupon she forwarded to me for 50% off + free shipping + another $10. So how could I pass on that deal? Except I only had a day and a half to put together three photo albums before the coupon expired. And so I spent an entire day in front of my computer working on the albums. An. Entire. Day.

But I did it!

Almost.

By the time my last project finished downloading, it was 12:02 a.m. Two minutes past the deadline. I frantically fired off an email begging them to still honor my coupon. Then the next morning I called and spoke to a very nice lady. And do you know what she told me after speaking to her supervisor?

No.

But she kindly pointed out that they were now 40% off. I then, very politely, pointed out that 40% is still less than 50% plus $10 and that I had been a customer for really a lot of years, but would no longer be. Then she secretly took another $20 off my order.

Christmas- 0. Crazy, Picture Lady - 2.

Christmas lodged one more feeble attempt at keeping me from doing everything by getting me sick one day before the start of my Seven Parties in Three Days Christmas Extravaganza. Really Christmas? Did you think a little sore throat/laryngitis + mucousy cough + lack of sleep would keep me from hot glue gunning graham crackers to milk cartons so that 32 first graders could make gingerbread houses? Or keep me from playing Just Dance and gabbing with friends? Or bowling? Or teaching 3rd graders how to make the most awesome snowflakes ever? Or Journeying through Bethlehem with the rest of my ward? Or watching fifth graders decorate cookies? Or win a totally awesome snowboarding jacket for my husband (who doesn't even snowboard)?

Puh-lease.

Christmas - 0. Crazy, Party Lady - 3.

And, in a pre-emptive strike I had already hired someone to make delicious cookies for my friends and neighbors (www.kentkookies.com. go there, try them, they are so very yummy. Find them on Facebook too). So they still got my treats, but without my sick germs!

Bah Ha Ha!

Christmas - 0. Crazy, Treat Lady - 4.

You can not beat me Christmas.

You. Can. Not. Beat. Me!!

At least not until I get my credit card bill.

Who Knew A Leopard Print Christmas Could Be So Much Work?

Remember when I said I would post a picture of my girls' leopard Christmas dresses that made me happy?

You don't?

Well I said it right  here. But it's okay if you've forgotten, because it has been awhile since I wrote it. Or since I've written anything really, due to the fact that Christmas is kicking my butt. And it's not even here yet.

So anyway, the best I can do for a blog post today is share the promised picture.

Here's another picture that my sweet-- and talented-- friend, Jen took

Do you see any differences in their leopard attire? If you noticed that Girl 2 (the one on the right in both pics) is wearing something just a little bit different, you win the award for being Most Observant.* 



How is this girl lucky enough to own not one, but TWO leopard outfits? you ask. Well, I'll tell you.

She's not. It's all an illusion created by the magic of photoshop. Because while Jen was taking the picture I realized it would be so much cuter if Girl 2 were also wearing a leopard top under her bolero jacket instead of the cream one she had on. (Actually I thought this earlier in the day before the picture, but was too busy cleaning my bathroom to go shopping).

When I mentioned this to Jen she said she could just photoshop a little leopard top onto her. But only in the picture. Not in real life. Which meant I had to go shopping that night for one so G2 could wear it to church the next day.

So that's what I did. Jen was kind enough to join me and, I gotta tell ya, it was kind of a lot of work. There were no gray leopard shirts to be found that would work under her cute bolero. But I did find a black shirt at Kohl's and a darling little furry leopard vest (faux of course, as I assured G2 who feared an actual leopard had been harmed in its making).

And when I saw "little vest," I do mean little. Because even though I found it in the big girl's department and it had an M on it, it was about a size 5. Fortunately, G2 tried it on that night so I didn't have to break the Sabbath the next day to return it for a bigger size in order to complete the coordinating ensemble I had planned for church. Unfortunately, that was at 10 pm. Fortunately, Target had started their holiday hours. So I headed back to find a big girl vest.

But guess what. That cute, furry vest only came in cute little sizes. Apparently whoever designs for Target has decided big girls should only have ugly, hairy vests. And the biggest little girl size they had in the vest was an L. Which is size 6. G2 is 8 1/2.

But she is little and all the other stores that might possibly carry something leopard were closed. So I took it. And she squeezed into the next day, but kept the tags on. (Maybe I've mentioned this before, but she is willing to sacrifice comfort in the name of fashion. Her big sister, on the other hand... not so much).

The beauty of living in a thriving metropolis is the plethora of Targets all within a ten minute drive. So on Monday I went to another Target and found another vest, only this time an XL. Which fits tolerably well and looks pretty darn cute. And makes G2 pretty darn happy.

And the moral of this blog?

Well, there are two really.

1. Shopping should always come before cleaning because, in the end, it will end up saving you time. And picture retakes. (Plus, people see what you wear a lot more often than they see your bathrooms).

2.  If you are thinking "there may be a reason why Christmas is wearing her out, and it doesn't have much to do with what the season is supposed to be about" you pretty much hit the nail on the head. (And also, I'm not even going to mention the snowflake tutorials I googled so I could make really cool ones--some in leopard print, of course-- to hang from my banister).

* Disclaimer: there's is no actual prize that goes with this award other than the satisfaction of knowing you are good at noticing things. Use this skill at the next baby shower you attend where they play memorize-all-these-stupid-baby-things-before-we-hide-them-and-then-make- you -remember-them (I hate that game). You can win a prize there.



Guess What I Did...

It took nine months and 102,239 words.

And there is still much cutting and editting to be done.

Not to mention the revising and querying.

But,

it's official.

I wrote a book.

Ten Awesome Things...Plus Six Things That Suck.

Anybody else feeling a little crazy right now? (Please only respond if you are not one of those "I finished all of my Christmas shopping is September" people. Because I hate you if you are).

I haven't had a lot of time to blog lately, what with all the Christmas decorating I've been doing in order to avoid the shopping for gifts part of the holiday. So imagine my surprise today when I checked my blog stats and found people were still reading something I wrote ten days ago. It's like my blog is a classic now! And, even better, someone found their way to it by putting the phrase, "uppity negress" in their search engine. I don't know how that led them to my blog, but I think it's pretty awesome.

Here are a few other things I'm thinking are awesome this week:

1. My husband cleaned the garage. Every time I look at it, I get a little turned on.
2. Christmas decorations. My dining room table kind of looks like Michael's threw up on it. And I like it. Maybe I will post pictures.
3. I came up with some rockin' coordinating Christmas outfits for my girls that involve leopard print. Pictures will definitely be posted. If I can convince my almost eleven year old to wear hers again.
4. My eight year old wore her long-sleeve black sequined shirt with the furry leopard print vest over it to church. And it was 80 degrees outside. SO awesome that she will suffer for fashion's sake!
5. The maple trees in my backyard are all red and gorgeous. And the gardener raked up the fallen leaves today, so husband doesn't have to.
6. The purple flats I found on clearance at Target.
7. Target. But I kinda always think it's awesome.
8. One of my favorite cousins and his family just moved nearby.
9. I have a new nephew, born today, all healthy and chubby.
10. My kids are all asleep and it's not even 10 yet. That has not happened in a very long time.

And just so I don't make you want to puke with all my chipper, "Life is Awesome" list-iness, here are a few things that suck:
1. That movie Like Crazy. Unless, of course, you are one of those people who think a revoked visa, very little dialogue-- but lots of longing looks-- and ugly chairs, constitute "art". If so, please take your place in line behind those early Christmas shoppers on my list of not-so-awesome things.
2. The temperature inside my church is somewhere near -20, so my daughter was actually a bit chilly in her winter wear.
3. This is probably the last Christmas I can bribe/coerce my oldest into wearing anything remotely resembling what her sisters are wearing.
4. Another favorite cousin and his fam will be moving away from here. Sad for me, but sadder for them. Cause there's snow where they're going.
5. Black Friday shopping. Except for that done for me by others. And the awesome lighted garland I got. Plus a few other deals. Okay, so maybe the shopping didn't suck, but the lines and people did. Except for that friendly Syrian lady who told me she was in line behind me, then wandered around for fifteen minutes expecting me to fight off the hoards of people who actually got into the line-- rather than staking an imaginary claim in it--and, when she finally did reclaim her spot, talked very loudly in Syrian on her phone while aalternately complaining just as loudly that they should open another register. Despite the fact there was no other register, thereby making it impossible to open one. But she did hold my spot for thirty seconds while I ran to get something, so that was nice. Though I'm starting to see why maybe there's some upheaval in that region of the world.
6. Texts at 3 and 4 a.m. from my personal shoppers to tell me they got me what I wanted in their Black Friday shopping extravaganza. Kind of defeats the purpose of staying home in bed if you can't stay asleep there during all the madness.
6. It seems my kids aren't actually asleep, but were only fooling me.

But, as you can see, there is a lot less that sucks than is awesome.

So I guess make that number 11 on my list.

Uppity Women Unite Part Deux

Since my last post I've had a lot of people tell me they want an Uppity Women Unite t-shirt. Which I think is a marvelous idea, just marvelous. I'm not a t-shirt sporting slogans wearer myself, but that doesn't mean the rest of you can't be.

 But here's the thing. With the money it would cost to buy that t-shirt, you could do something even better to show just what an Uppity Woman you are. See that sidebar over there? On the side? In the bar? Well, by donating to that fund you will be helping a single mother go to college. And everyone knows, if you improve the life of a mother, you improve the life of more than one person.

So come on Uppity friends (that includes you too, guys. You don't have to be a woman to be uppity), let's unite and support our sisters. I'm going to throw in $5, and if every one of my followers did too, that'd be like fifteen bucks.

Now I'll be honest. My motive for supporting this cause aren't completely altruistic. By posting this and donating, I'll be entered in a contest wherein I could win a reprieve from writing my own Christmas letter. Now, now, I know many of you are fans of my annual Christmas letter and look forward to its arrival each year. But that's some pressure people. And I may not be up for the task this year. But my hilarious friend DeNae is more than able and I assure you, reading about the 2011 exploits of the Larsen family in her words will not disappoint.

And I guess that's about all I've got to say today. A little less wordy than usual, I know. But I'm the co-chair of my kids' school book fair this week. Which means I'm up to my eyeballs in books, words and kids. So I'm kind of tired of looking at all of those things and am having a lot of trouble thinking straight.

Not too worry though. It's nothing that a Diet Coke can't fix. Just trying to make it to 7 a.m. before I crack it open.