"One of these kids is not like the others..."

Sesame Street used to have a little song and game that I think everyone will remember if you ever frequented the show as a kid. They would put up four pictures of children or toys or food or something, and they would sing "One of these kids (or things) is not like the others, one of these kids is not the same, one of these kids is doing their own thing, blah blah blah somethin' somethin' somethin'". Anyway, when I  look at the pictures of my four kids going up the stairwell wall, I can hear this song playing in my head.  Allow me to introduce you to my ordinary children doing ordinary things. . . typical even...but you will find, as I have, that one of these kids is not like the others! :)

The oldest:  Dallen.
Dallen is easy. He is a boy, he likes baseball. He likes football, and he has some natural athletic talent. It is a blast to watch him play because it really allows him to shine.  His self confidence grows and he is successful. His otherwise timid self gets to come out and show the world what he can do. We LOVE it that he likes sports because we are sports fans. What fun.  He has enrolled in baseball for the spring, and it is great.

The youngest: Lily.
Lily is your typical 3 year old. You've read about her before and know that she is mischievious, funny, and cute. Again, typical for a girl her age, and not yet old enough to put her into any sort of activity, although I have a sneaking suspicion she will tend toward the 'performing arts' side. Likely singing, as she loves to have a microphone in her hand and sing for the masses...I'll let you know how that develops.

The second child: Jada

Jada. Jada is not so easy. She likes a lot of different things but is not just 'gaga' over any one thing. But she does tend to love dance. She is quite flexible, long and skinny, and loves to try to do acrobatic balances. She would make an excellent ballerina simply by her shape and movements. So, ballet class, here we come. She has signed up for spring ballet and I am certain she will love it.

The third child: Anna
Anna. Anna, Anna, Anna.  Anna is not tall and slender, she tends toward the short, squat, and uncoordinated side like her mother...I'm thinking its genetic. Ballet appeals to Anna because she has a girly side, and wants to be a fashion designer when she grows up. Actually, she wants to own a shop with her sister where Jada does hair, and then when they have their hair done, they can go to the attached shop and pick a custom made dress designed by Miss Anna herself, and they can be in the business of making women pretty together.  I realize this sounds pretty typical for a little girl that is 6 years old,  but Anna has another side to her.

Last summer she attended a martial arts class taught by her Aunt Kelly, and she LOVED it. She learned how to throw someone on the ground, and has enjoyed demonstrating that technique on various and sundry boys and girls as they come to visit ever since.  The other day she surprised Ian with a quick take-down he wasn't expecting and she beamed like a lighthouse at her accomplishment. The poor boy could do nothing but laugh it off and pretend like it was fun to be thrown to the ground by a girl.  Anna and her devilish alter ego enjoyed it perhaps a bit too much, but I think we may have found the 'niche' for this kid that we never really expected. 

So my quiet little blonde beauty wants to be a martial arts expert...its always the quiet ones ya gotta watch out for right?  Unexpected, yes. Unprecidented, no.  I am beginning to think this kid was really from my sister's stock and not mine, except I did give birth to this child, so perhaps it is a recessive gene.  Either way its quite amusing.  This little girl has much more to her than meets the eye.

It should be fun to see what happens when someone tries to rob her little dress shop when she's older... SURPRISE! You just got your explitive kicked by a GIRL! 

So, I have four very different children, and consequently this spring, I've got one in Baseball, one in Ballet, and one in Tae Kwon Do...I'm in for a very entertaining spring.

The Daredevil and The Diva: A story about life with little people.

There once were two little girls that were just days apart in age, and only 3 years old.  The oldest one (only by 3 days) was a Daredevil, and the youngest one was a Diva.  These two spent all of their days together for 6 months while the Diva's mother went to work.  Daredevil's mother was happy to watch the two little girls and try to keep them from getting into too much trouble. This proved to be a little more difficult than she anticipated, and slightly more trying, but she found it doable just the same.

Each day, the Diva would arrive and try to find ways to compete with Daredevil. She always wanted to find out who was more popular amongst their 3-year-old friends...particularly ONE little friend called 'Addy'....even though they only saw Addy once a week at church.  Everyday Diva would find the fake phone and pretend call Addy.  She would then inform Daredevil that Addy liked only Diva and thought Diva was pretty and NOT Daredevil.  The arguments would ensue about who Addy liked more and invariably ended with Diva asking Daredevil's mother, "Miss Piewson, am I pwetty?''

"Yes dear, you are pretty.'' She would reply.

Diva would then say, "SEE Daredevil, I'm pwetty and you awe not.''

Daredevil would then say, with determined eyebrows, "I am TOO pretty and Addy likes me BEST!"

Despite the fact that they had discussed this very important issue many many times before, it happened every day. No...really...EVERY day.

So after they had the 'Addy argument', Daredevil would come up with some scheme to get into something they shouldn't have....like the bag of sugar, or her older brother's microscope kit, but usually it involved food of some sort.  She would wait until her mother had to go to the bathroom or a phone call came in and then she would whisper quickly to Diva, "Come on! Help me move this chair over so I can climb up on the counter and get into something before my mom comes back!"

The two 3 year olds would giggle to themselves and Diva would keep watch while Daredevil scaled the counter tops and cupboards to find the 'treasures' hidden up there.  They would then hide under the table or mini trampoline and eat all of the chocolate chips, or sugar, or sunchips, or cookies, or whatever thing Daredevil found. Then they would blame each other for who actually did the stealing of the goodies...only Daredevil's mother knew that only Daredevil could have gotten to such hidden items so quickly.

Once in a while Daredevil would challenge Diva.

"I'm going to be to the car first.'' Daredevil would say.

Diva would respond by crying out, "No Daredevil! Wait for me...MISS PIEWSON!!! Daredevil isn't waiting for me!!!''

So then Daredevil would come running back and hit Diva and say "Be quiet!"

So then Diva would cry and say, "I hate you Daredevil, you are NOT pwetty and I DON'T like your SHOES!''

Then Daredevil would say, "I don't care, they are nice, they have butterflies. Hurry, lets beat my mom!''

The two would giggle and race to the car and then say, "Haha! We beat you to the car!" when the mom arrived at the vehicle.

Daredevil's mother would sigh and just be glad they were on the same team for a few minutes until one got their seatbelt on faster than the other. Then the crying and arguing over who was faster would begin...
"Am I fast??''
"Yes dear you are fast.''
"Mom! Am I fast too?''
"Yes dear you are fast too."
"But I'm fast!"
"No I'm fast!
"Yes you are BOTH fast, now be quiet, I have to listen ...to the radio...or...for cars or something."

--Dramatic pause while calculating a response--then a slight raise of the eyebrows on Daredevil's face as she comes up with the perfect response to determine the outcome of the 'who's better' battle...

"Diva, ---I'm Addy's friend."

Gasp!  "No you aren't Daredevil, I am Addy's friend and I am fast and she likes me and not you"

"She likes us both! MOM, Does Addy like us both?''

Deep breaths....deep, deep, cleansing breaths....

Thank you for tuning in.  That concludes this episode of "The Daredevil and The Diva", tune in next time for the exact same episode on repeat. Everyday. For 3 more months.

Rain

Rain...I love the rain.

I always have really.  I think its something to do with the fact that it is cleansing. Or something like that.
Whatever it is, rain doesn't make me 'blue'.  That would be bad if the rain could do that.  Would that mean there was too much colloidal silver in the atmosphere?  Yikes.

Anyway, I think I'm writing about rain because it rained last night and washed all of our muddy streets. Which I like.  And I think there is something profound about the rain coming, and it isn't moisture coming down frozen anymore.  Its the same deep feeling that makes Easter my favorite holiday.  Most people like Christmas...or birthdays, and I like those too, but there's just something about Easter.  My two most favorite holidays in the whole world are Easter and the 4th of July. I just feel those holidays...like that excited feeling you get when that kid 'Webster' discovered the secret passageway behind the grandfather clock in that TV show...you know...like...anything could happen at that moment....like...something good is coming.  And if nothing good comes, you still have a secret passageway that no one else knows about. How cool is that?

Maybe its just springtime in general.  I suppose the fact that the rain brings life to the plants helps...because March is my favorite month to visit California because it is so green.  The rest of the 11 months of the year it is brown like here, but February and March....spectacular. April too...especially on Table Mountain. Anyway, I really want to go visit my hometown and all of the familiar greenery this spring break, but its so complicated with a family of 6 I think it'll have to wait.  Although I want to see my grandparents... I don't think they will get a chance to come out here to visit any time soon, but I wish they would.  We really need to buy a house so we have more room for visitors...

The sun is coming out....I think I will go for a drive and look at houses just for fun.

Oh crap...I think I'm a grown up.

So lately I have been reconnecting with people on Facebook, like just about everyone else in the universe, and have recently started joining in this 'blog craze'. I am really enjoying the blog scene...it gives you really good insight into people.  I think people are rather uninhibited while writing on a blog. Its like they can assume a secret identity and type out what they really think and cross their fingers hoping everyone else 'gets it'. Or, maybe that's just what I do. I like to think I keep it real...so I guess I assume everyone else does too.

Recently some of the girls I used to teach as young women have started blogging. Its funny because I was teaching them within the last 5 years, but now they are in college and are full, legal adults. They are typing out their thoughts and insights on life, and some of them are quite enlightened thinkers.  I am impressed with their ability to think critically and really dive into the things that matter most in life.  And I love how candid they are about their worries and concerns.

However, there is one very shallow discovery I made tonight that I'm not sure I will ever recover from.  As I read their blogs, I found myself thinking, ''Oh I remember feeling that way in college...'' or ''Oh if she just sticks it out, this storm will pass...'', or ''I remember how exciting that felt when I was about to do that.'' OH CRAP! I am now the 'mom'-like old person that smiles and says, ''Oh yes! That's exciting honey...I remember when I was your age...'' Only whatever it is I say after that falls on deaf ears because they have to go out and discover it for themselves, and whatever it was that I did in my life is completely useless and obsolete for them because 'that was then'. Oh my canoli...even as I type I am saying things that old people say!

I think I am losing it. I...wait, I can't remember what I made for dinner tonight...oh yeah, I didn't cook dinner. Is that a sign of old age? My grandma doesn't cook anymore...maybe this is how it started.
I think I can't breath...was that my heart pounding just now?? Does anyone know the number for 911?
Crap (edited from the explitive I really wanted to use). I am old. Obsolete. Used up. Totally useless.... Except for those rare occasions when the younger generation decides they need an 'old person fix'.

Sob.

I never even achieved 'cool' like I hoped I would. Now its too late. I am officially a 'grown up' A bonified, boring, and 'know-it-all' grown up. . .

Although I have met some really cool older people. But they don't seem old. Like my Zumba instructor... Who is the epitome of 'cool'. Yeah guess what? She's my age. Yep. Has a 12 year old kid. I'm pretty sure she's actually older than me. . . .but who's counting?

Welp, thats it, I am going to call it a night.  Hopefully tomorrow I'll do something kid-like (perhaps sledding or something) and redeem my spirits from the depths of my own  reality. Then, after I feel rejeuvenated,  I will be saying things like, ''I'm making 40 the new 20!'' And, '' I'll be so cool and sexy that the Zumba instructor will have 'Andi-envy'. ''
Yes..thats my plan.

Wish me luck.

This Award Means So Much....

I believe I have arrived... I am the proud recipient and now giver of this little known, yet oh-so-prestigious pay-it-forward Stylish Blogger Award.  I am not entirely sure what part of my blog would be considered 'stylish', in fact, I'm pretty sure nothing about me can really be considered 'stylish'...especially my workout outfits, but I am honored nonetheless and shall accept.

I was generously nominated for this award by Comedy of Errers blogger, Marianne.  She is a world famous writer and published author just waiting to be discovered. And the one responsible for my attending a Zumba class with skinny people and teenagers.  Her blog is thoughtful and funny with an edgy twist.

Okay so the rule for accepting this award is I have to tell you 7 things about myself, so here goes:

1.  I once high jumped over a 5 foot bar...just once. I was 14 but it still counts because it was still me.
2.  Using a bendy pole to vault myself over a bar in college, I only got 4 and a half feet higher.  I think I must have been trying to make up for my short Italian genes with those two acrobatic feats...
3.  I can't cook...even when it comes in a box.
4.  I am 'pretty good' at a lot of things, and not sure I will ever 'master' anything.  Maybe I have ADD?
5.  I have contamination OCD like "Monk" on TV (only he's not exactly an acurate portrayal but he's funny), so I either wash things too much or won't touch them at all because they are too yucky.
6.  I secretly like listening to Eminem and I also own the latest CD by Taylor Swift.

Wow, its like stepping into a confessional-except I'm not Catholic, but...I feel so liberated now.

Alright, now that you know me so well we could be considered BFF's, I get to nominate 6 other bloggers for this fantastic award. I tried to include something for everyone...Here they are in no particular order:

1.  Amongst The Americana -This is an honest and very humorous blog. Ernie is the husband of one of my dearest friends who also writes a witty blog for their family. I think a 'man-blog' is just what we need sometimes...helps me to understand what the heck boys are thinking.
2.  Birth Smart -My dear friend of 20 years is a Childbirth Educator and Doula. I am so very impressed with what she does with this blog. She is one of those people that has a calming effect on everyone...even when you are high strung and just a little bit crazy like me.
3.  The Slow Kitchen - I love her 'natural' philosophy..I think she is Canadian...I stole her from someone else's blog roll...can't remember who...I like this one because she puts in pictures for me to follow so I don't have to translate what a 'pinch' means or whatever.  Everyone should know by now that I can't cook, so I look at her blog and think about trying to cook those things but never actually follow through.
4.  Brilliant In The Basics (Now the Smith Family Blog)- This is my dear friend Rebecca (wife of 'man-blogger' Ernie) and her very stylish family. I dont know how she made her blog and family so perfect, but she IS in fact Brilliant in the Basics...
5.  It's all in the Bag  - Rozla is a seamstress that makes very stylish and cute bags.  I own my very first ever 'purse-like' bag because of her. I even got to pick out the fabric. I may turn out to be a normal female yet.
6.  Laughing all the Way This girl is a brilliant writer. I have known her a very, very, very long time, and I am so very impressed with her writing and her insight. She is now a mother of two, deeply spiritual, honest, and candid about life. I love reading Becca's blog for her strong convictions and fortitude in life.

In order to accept The Stylish Blogger Award, these nominees must do the following:
Write seven things about yourself.
Present the award to six bloggers.
Contact those people.
Create a link back to the person who did this for you.
If these nominees do not wish to accept the nomination, they can donate money to heifer international or ignore this post. The choice is theirs.

Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!...

That is pretty much the sound I made tonight at my first ever Zumba class. I have a good friend that convinced me to go with her to do this hilarious and fun class...although I am fairly certain that I, myself, was the hilarious part, and jumping around with teenagers and a skinny, energetic, 'perfect-teeth' and 'super-nice' instructor to fast paced latin music, was the 'fun' part.

Before I go on, I have to confess something...I was a Physical Education major in college. Ours was a curriculum designed to teach teachers how to teach kids to be active and fit for life.  So, I passed college with flying colors, but am failing on the 'fit for life' bit. . .allow me to illustrate why I simply give myself an F- in 'Practice What You Preach 101' class......

Ok, so...

I arrived at the gym wearing the only clean 'workout gear' I could find. (I blamed this on 'motherhood' in general and a household of 6) My outfit included a pair of capri-length addidas pants, (complete with paint stains from when I tried to paint the house in them and 'not-get-any-paint-on-my-pants'...fail), a huge T-shirt, miss-matched socks, a zip up hoodie, and a bra with half the underwire broken out. Hahahaha. That last part is actually true...hey...it was the only one I could find...and yes I do have more than 2.

So, I was okay with my appearance at first (since my husband told me I looked fine) until our teacher bounced in...AND I found out that our only other classmates consisted of the middle school girls' soccer team...and we also had to take our shoes off....however, I got a 'save' on that one because apparently it is 'cool' to have miss-matched ankle socks. The whole soccer team had on little miss-matched ankle socks just like me so I'm pretty sure I just 'fit in' like I knew what I was doing. . .

So aside from the fact that even though I am 'clear' on the sock front, I learned 5 things about myself, and how my life will go from here -post Zumba class tonight...

1. I will never eat again.

2. I need to go buy a sports bra....preferrably one that holds everything 'in' and 'up' where it all belongs.

3. I will never, ever, ever, (no matter how hard I might try), ever, look sexy when I 'swivel' my hips. . .I have become the short little fat girl in class that everyone watches and says ''Awe...honey...bless your heart for getting out there and giving it a try!''...no...really...not ANYTHING like what the teacher looked like...

4. My husband will NEVER, EVER, under even the most EXTREME circumstances, be permitted to attend or 'observe' my monday night Zumba class. Period.

5. I may need counseling for 'reverse annorexia'...I'm pretty sure that when I see myself, alone, in the comfort of my own home, I think I look better in my mirror than I actually do in real life...the mirrors ALL around the room, and trying to move like our tiny, sexy instructor helped me to see the light on my reality.....

I must admit, that despite the very STEEP learning curve (there is no instruction...you just have to try to follow and keep up), I think I really liked it. It was energetic, fun, and I think I laughed more tonight than I have in a long, long time.  AND, I did keep up the whole time...which surprised even me (meaning, I actually moved the whole time and finished the workout....no way I got all the moves right.)  Plus,  if I end up looking like our instructor at the end (which I'm fairly certain is genetically impossible), I will be freakin' HOT....and then I won't go 'Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!', I'll just go 'ZumBAAAaaa!'

Aaron Rogers went to my high school....so I am automatically cool...or famous...or something.

Thats all I have to say really. Just that I am totally famous now because of him.

What?

You guys didn't know I was cool? Well let me tell you what an important influence I was on Aaron Rogers!
See...I was number 12 on the Pleasant Valley High School girls basketball team...I'm pretty sure that Aaron must have known that and chosen that number accordingly...I won't accept anyone's comments that also remember that EVERY quarterback out of PV  was number 12 or...11 I think. But at any rate I am claiming it. Never mind the fact that I graduated like, what? 8 years before him? Psh. It was my LEGEND...that inspired him.

Need I remind you of the Junior College I attended as well? Thats right...I was learning to pole vault on Butte College's football field before Aaron (..first name is all thats necessary at this point..) even entered high school. I am certain this played a part in his decision to be a 'hometown athelete' (just like his idol...me.) and play for Butte...I mean, seriously...don't you think its just a little bit more than coincidental??

And now, since we've been avid Aaron Rogers fans, all through the Cal days...and lamented with him when Favre just wouldn't freakin' RETIRE already...we even waited out the broken foot incident that helped delay that agonizing retirement/long-drawn-out-dog-and-pony-show...NOW....now, we can claim our superbowl ring. AND number 12 is officially the superbowl MVP. Thank you very much. . . no, no....no need to wait in line, I'll be handing out signatures all week...

With fame comes great responsibility, and I will be sure and treat this limelight with a sober and humble demeanor...I know Aaron will try to say it was all me...he's so humble, but we all know that...no no..He deserves ALL the credit. . .I was just doing what ANY normal Chico resident and Pleasant Valley High school student would have done....because...UH! UNGOWA! VIKINGS GOT THE POWER!