I'm having an affair

It started years ago with "This American Life".  I would wait all week for the Sunday afternoon episode.  If I was traveling, I would desperately search for the local NPR station so I wouldn't miss anything. Life only got better as technology advanced and I could download the podcast, and eventually have access to every episode via the app.

There have been others, "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me", "Fresh Air"... but lately it's gotten worse.  Enter Netflix.  I was officially the last person on the planet to sign up for Netflix last month and it has ruined my personal relationships, my sleep habits, my life.

"Downton Abbey" became my everything.  Only after I searched every shady internet site for free streaming of Season 2 (since Netflix doesn't have it) did I get smart and go to the source, PBS.com. I started resenting my family for making me feel more like a servant than the lady of the house.  I started wishing we would dress for dinner and go on riding parties. I wanted to send a handwritten letter on a small piece of parchment and seal it with wax.  But most of all, I studied Maggie Smith and her clever delivery of insults.Now I wait every week for the latest Season 3 episode to air and worry what I will do when the season is finished.

For now I have "Mad Men" to fill my time.  I spend every waking moment thinking about when I can sneak in another episode. I am ashamed to say that I dragged poor Chickie into this one.  I cue up an episode every time she's up in the night. She's come to expect it, pointing to the wii remote the minute I sit down in the dark room to rock her back to sleep. I won't be surprised if she starts wanting to smoke and pour a drink every time she starts a conversation. In fact, if you are trying to quit drinking and smoking (or if you don't want to start) I don't recommend watching.  Oh, that Don Draper... so troubled and complex...

And with "Breaking Bad" lined up in my instant cue the obsession is sure to continue.

Chickie's Shoes Series 1

Someone likes to play with my phone...

More Pinterest Peeves

It's sad when all I write about is Pinterest...

I can't really blame Pinterest, it is the people who promote various pins that are partially to blame, but mostly it's the blogosphere that is the problem. Who are these people anyway?  I promise, despite the fancy photos, perfect crafts, and clever titles, they are not much different than you and me.  I am in my pink bathrobe surrounded by toys with a white chinchilla plotting my demise from his cage behind me, just like everyone else.

I remember being a teenager reading the magazines, taking the quizzes, and coming to the realization that I had just as much expertise in the "Is he digging you or your best friend?" arena as the people who wrote that crap.  But did that stop me from finding out "What's your party personality?" Nope.  The authors knew all the burning insecurities on every young girl's mind and provided a way to appease/feed them.

Pinterest is the Seventeen of the modern housewife. Everywhere you look there is a solution to your problems. 

Want to lose weight and look like you have the fakest boobs on the planet? Drink ice water!
Don't know how to discipline? Follow this simple flowchart!
At a loss for words for your daughter? Here are 10 things you have to say or she'll never amount to anything!
What about your son? Keep him "good" by following these three tips!
Your house is a mess? Put a cute basket under the sink!
Laundry overwhelming? Follow this simple (ground breaking) plan: sort, wash, fold, put away
What to get more done during the day? Sleep more, plan ahead, make a list, and stay focused!

Here's my favorite tip (feel free to pin it): Want to be more productive? Get off Pinterest!


Chickie in her skinny jeans that made her walk like Kramer in that one Seinfeld episode. 

My favorite is the pin that says "Organize your entire life" and when you actually read the post it's a joke. Soooo many people have repinned it thinking she has the answers to all your problems. Click through before you pin people!

I could write this stuff! It's all fluff, but we feel inadequate so we read it.

On a serious note...

In the wake of the Connecticut tragedy I have vacillated between deep sorrow and sadness, confusion, anger, and despair.  Friday morning I dropped the kids off at school in the carpool lane and realized Kitty forgot her coat, so I pulled along the side of her and tossed her coat out the window.  I said good-bye and as I pulled away I thought, "I can't believe I just drive away without watching her go into the building, I must really trust the school."  I am not kidding, I had that thought. I remembered that thought all that day as I watched the news and wished that I had stopped and at least watched her go in.

As much as I need the break that school provides, I often stop throughout my day and miss my kids.  It makes me a little sad to think that I can't observe or see what they are doing at any given moment in the day.  I think that is what's most painful, those poor parents weren't there to protect or comfort their children. 

We haven't discussed the news with our kids.  Jared and I decided to keep the news off and let the first few days of media overload pass without our participation.  I am sure they will hear about it through the grapevine and I plan to bring it up when it dies down a bit.

Portrait of a boy, 11/2012 by John

Here's the thing though, I just read this and realized that I am also coming to grips with my perspective from the other side of the issue. As the parent of a child with mental illness (there, I said it) I don't know what needs to change. While my experience is not as serious as the author's, when you live with it everyday the line between normal and abnormal becomes fuzzy. One thing I know, parents love their children.

Note to self: The starlighting sucks.

I knew it.

John knew it.

But still I insisted on taking the kids to the annual Castle Rock Starlighting.  It fools me every time-- small town gathering to usher in the holiday season.

Except our small town isn't so small anymore. It was a mad house. We had to park nearly a mile away (which was not too far from our house). Then there was a train stopped on the tracks between where we were and where the festivities were. If you know anything about railroad safety-- it is a crime to enter the right-of-way, let alone cross the tracks. So, as the consummate rule abider, we walked the four blocks around the train to get to the open crossing. There were groups climbing their way over the hitches on the train or crossing the track, it was anarchy at its best.




Whoomp. There it is.

Making the rounds

Chickie was not impressed.




John in his get-up.  He kind of likes to dress the part.



Kitty enjoying the fireworks.

Once we got there it was so crowded that we couldn't see any of the boring booths handing out pamphlets so we just walked the circuit.  The only booths we could see were the ones making a killing selling glow sticks.  Really? $10 for the one with a bulb on the top? I gave in (like always) and told the kids they could get one for $5 or less.  Kitty picked one and gave it to Chickie while John insisted he needed the $10 wand. So needless to say, the night ended with John screaming at me in a crowd of hundreds of people.  We saw a few of the fireworks on our way back around the train and up the hill to our car. 

Let the holidays begin!



John's highlight of the night.  Roadkill.

Posts that I was too lazy to compose

 

I've been collecting ideas for the old blog for about a month, but nothing ever came of it.  So here they all are in one big, unrelated jumble.

 

 

The week before Halloween Chickie and I went to visit Meri in Rexburg... I found the perfect place for Chickie to sleep-- Lola's crate.  It was clean, furnished with a fancy memory foam pad, and completely enclosed.  Now I know why some parents put their children in cages, but they're crazy and I'm not.

Even blurry she's pretty cute.

Playing on Meri's phone



Being "soft" with Lola, her favorite part of the trip.



I was a little early for my flight so I drove by the old South Salt Lake house... Just as weird as it was when Jared and I lived there, except the broken snow mobile in the driveway finally disappeared. Do you like the sly angle? Or maybe it's just artsy, especially with the mirror.

John is a velociraptor, although, unlike Tommy, he didn't jump straight up onto the wall.

Chickie likes to help with the dishes.

John took a picture of me at church. Don't I look reverent?

I didn't get any good costume pictures this year. I just like Chickie's face in this one.



Blurry, but doesn't John look spooky? Kitty was Shirley Temple and Chickie was a cupcake.

Chickie took this one while I was changing her diaper.  I thought it was a little spooky looking (can you see me?)

Cute Kitty finished soccer with blue teeth from her cookie. She is an awesome little defender and loves to play goalie.

My favorite fall foliage pictures

Yesterday I came home to the quintessential Bogda situation, how could I not take a picture?

You can't tell, but believe me when I tell you she is cutting down her tree with a hand saw.

 I asked if she wanted our chainsaw but she said it would be too heavy for her.  This morning Jared offered to finish the job with his chainsaw and she said, "No. I have my own husband." The best part is, if you look closely at the next picture you can see what she uses her husband for... he's holding the rope.