Mental Health

Fair

It was bedtime. We told the girls how much money they would be earning from the last week. We have started giving them a dollar a week and we subtract 5 cents every time they disobey or talk back. This was mostly instituted in response to Abigail never feeling like she has any money (even though she has unlimited offers to do extra chores and earn some) and as a tool to manage our newly created pre-teen daughter.

I informed the girls that they all lost 50 cents for wasting all the body wash in the bathtub. They started going on and on about it not being fair.

LG instantly went into his lecture, “Do you want to talk about fair? Do you really want to go there? It’s not fair that mom does all the dishes, when you all dirty them? It’s not fair that mom has to wash all the clothes, when you guys dirty them. It’s not fair that mom cleaned up that whole playroom the other day when she didn’t make one bit of the mess….” (Man, LG was so convincing that I almost started crying in response to my unfair situation too)

Abigail is always looking for her opportunity to show her intellect: “Actually dad, that is fair, because those are mom’s jobs.”

So I HAD to chime in, “Alright, it’s not fair that that is my job. It’s not fair that you all got to ride your bikes today and dad and I had to walk because we can’t afford to buy ourselves bikes after paying for yours. It’s not fair that …”

LG took back over, “It’s not fair that I went to school for ten years and I still am not making any money, it’s not fair that I went to school for ten years to hate my job…it’s not fair that I am fat.”

So, I HAD to show my intellect: “Actually, honey, that last one is kind of fair.”

Bella had to show off the intellect of the youngest member of the family: “Yeah dad, you are the one that eats all the food that makes you fat.”

LG: “Well, it’s not fair that when you eat food, it makes you fat.”

Why does food have to make us fat? And, yes, there is a theme going on in my mind..it’s called we are all trying to change our lifestyle around here….it’s just not fair that we all have to eat right and exercise, is it?

Last night we went as a family to the Community Walk To Myrtle Beach Kick Off. We are excited to try and walk 360 miles over the next 12 weeks. We had to get our weight and height, BMI and body fat tested…talk about motivation.

Well, at one point this stranger weighed in right next to me. He was a very healthy looking guy and weighed in at 146. I looked over at the scale right at the wrong time and quickly apologized explaining that I wasn’t trying to spy. “But”, I explained, “I want you to know that I would do anything to be at your weight.” All the Health Dept. officials looked at me dumbfounded, so I chimed in with the further explanation they were waiting for, “except eat right and exercise of course.” They all seem to be pleased that their original scowls got the desired answer and gave me their approval with a few big smiles.

And, can I just vent for a second. These officials were trying to change the computer results to make my kids overweight. I was ticked. I had to give them some wisdom, “Just because my husband and I are fat, it doesn’t mean that our children are…..how do you think we got this fat? We’ve been doing everything we can to keep them healthy.” I TOLD THEM. They quickly understood that they were stereotyping. UGH!!!

Native American Cuisine

In the West there is something called a Navajo Taco. For lack of a better description, it is kind of a mix between a taco, a Pita sandwich, and a scone. And even though I somehow just managed to make them sound very scary, Navajo Tacos are very good and filling. We are sad that we haven’t eaten one in years. We have only Petro’s in the south. I suppose that is as close as we get to a Native American Cuisine. I guess all the Confederates scared all the Natives away long ago.

Well, as part of our trip out west, it was our goal to eat every Western cuisine that we miss while living in the South. We hadn’t really mentioned a Navajo taco, but whenever we saw a place that offered anything we can only get out West we stopped. We were constantly on the lookout for our favorites. (remembered or not)

After spending a day at The Grand Canyon, we immediately got on the road. We were in a hurry to get to my mom and dads. We had not eaten lunch and were starving, but figured we would see something on the way and would save time by eating in the car. We wrongly suspected we could find food on the road cheaper than we could in the Canyon. We ended up bi passing the only little town that would have anything to eat, and gassed up in the middle of nowhere. The trip turned into hours and we were well into dinner time.

The only thing we passed on the road were these Navajo Shops where the Native American tribe members sell their jewelry, pottery and such. There was a new shop about every 10 miles. They all looked exactly the same and seemed to market and sell the exact same items.

Now I know you all already realize that LG has an MBA and is always looking for good business opportunities. We were all getting hungrier and crankier by the second. Finally LG turned to me and in desperation exclaimed, “You would think that some of these Navajos would start selling some tacos.”

And, that, ladies and gentlemen, gives you the quick wit I live with on a daily basis. LG needs to start his own blog that features his humor. He’s so much funnier than I could ever hope to be. I am so happy to have a husband that has never let me down on his promise to make me laugh every day.

Five Years For The Fries

We used to live in Utah.

LG had a very favorite restaurant.

Ever since we moved to Knoxville, LG has been counting down the days until he could go back.

For five years, the conversations have been countless.

“We have to go to The Training Table every day whenever we go back.”

He can never get too many cheese fries and Utah famous fry sauce.

You have to try them. Even if you are counting calories.

The caloric splurge will not disappoint.

The kids thought ordering over the phone was pretty cool.

But they knew that they had to work for the food.

Alright girls, figure out how to get home.

Breakfast anyone?

I arrived home yesterday. I scheduled the past 20 posts or so, and you were no less the wiser, were you?

I also scheduled this post. If you don’t hear from me in a few days, you know I am lost under the dirty laundry somewhere.

We went to Utah and back in a car with all three kids. I most certainly will have things to tell you. But, for now I am restocking my fridge.

Would you like one of our specialties?

The girls affectionately call it “smashed boiled eggs”.

Abigail and Bella like to smash them and thank goodness Sophia likes to eat them.

Our bounty

LG: “Alice, we have to have a garden this year so that we can teach the kids how to work. And we can put up (that’s what they call canning in the south) some stuff and build our food storage.”

Me: “But, I am going to have to do everything, and I am already babysitting two kids this summer. And you are starting your practice, and we are already so busy. Can’t we just buy some canned goods and call it good this year? We did just buy our wheat and our emergency water buckets, doesn’t that count for the Stake’s goal of building our supply by one more month this year?”

LG: “No way. C’mon it will be really good for the kids. I will get out there and weed with them every Saturday.”

Me: “Alright, if you promise that you’ll get out there with them. I don’t need one more thing right now.”

LG: “I promise.”

Score: LG – no weeding Me – 3 weedings The kids – 10 minutes of weeding
The Garden – growing amazingly without enough weeding

And, I must add. LG did all of the rototiller, so he’s not in the doghouse because of the weeding. But, he better help me put some of this stuff up or he will be.

The late beans and corn to work around our Utah vacation.

15 tomato plants
The raspberries are starting well.

It’s too bad we will probably move before they ever flower.

Pears
Apples

World Wide Wrestling

I have no idea who Eddie Guerrero is, but I just like to watch grown men cry.

(Happy Birthday to the only man that I don’t like to watch cry. LG is 33)

And, I really want to be in Eddie’s neighborhood in the next life, so that I can witness the embraces of all of the former wrestlers. I could be entertained forever.

Oh, and this video was such a better form of entertainment than the wrestling match that I passed in a parking lot on my way home from Wal-Mart the other night.

I left LG and the girls in the car and ventured into a whole new world of hillbilly.

I thought I had walked into some fictional novel.

And then my camera died.

The End.

Oh, you missed the front view, I am so sorry.

This is the best shot that I got. Notice the classy venue.

Check out the mc’s mullet curl!

Whole grains

I forced myself to have Grape Nuts for breakfast a while back.

I added plenty of sugar like the non Weight Watcher girl that I am right now.

As I was chowing down, I read a post that looked like this.

“That looks like such a better form of whole grains”, I thought to myself.

“If I just had that darn Bosch!”

I hope that Marilyn won’t mind that I smuggled her post topic and snagged her picture.
(I’m sure she won’t. She’s good like that. And, heck, I just gave her some link love – Oh, I hate it when people take my topic or idea without a link. It’s just blogging decency people.)

The whole reason for this post is to send you over to Marilyn for a great wheat bread recipe. But, of course, I have to add my take on it.

I have stored her blog post for another day. (Like the day that I want to start eating healthy again and I have my brand new Bosch mixer waiting to be used.)

For now, I am just being tortured with the thought of eating the rest of this Whole Grain cereal.

Thanks for a great tease Marilyn.

My little Grape granules just aren’t good enough now.
Golly, you use enough energy just eating this stuff that it should cancel out the calories.

Where did this cereal get it’s name?

Are these really Grape seeds or something?

Or did they just give it a name with the word grape in it to try and deter you from thinking about the tough and crunchy wheat plant?

O.k…who knew that there was a website called nograpesnonuts?

There’s an actual explanation to the name.

I try to be a good Mormon lady, and follow the prophet by keeping a food storage.

I recently stored wheat. (And, I have to thank my mother in law for the wheat loan here.)

Above is a photo of the wheat that we got about six months back.

Yes, it sat in my living room for quite a while.

We told our self righteous friends that we didn’t want to store the wheat away until we had a chance to talk to all of our friends about the importance of being prepared.

Mormons will let a lot of weaknesses slide if it means your are doing your missionary work.

(But, really, you all just know that I was blogging instead of worrying about the wheat)

If the amount of time it takes a woman to get her wheat into her buckets is a measure of what kingdom of heaven she will earn, I am going to be in big trouble.

Can you say 3 months?

That means that I am going to be in the third kingdom down.

Well, it’s good to know, that I will be in the right place.

You do remember that some of my left over wheat buckets gave me away a while back?

Wow, I guess that God did think of everything.

He made a kingdom just for the white trash of the world.

Romance, Gold Style

Lately, I have read a few different blog posts about men being romantic with their wives. One blogger wrote on a hot dog and one bought a dress. They were both really sweet posts.

And just to save hurt feelings, I am in no way trying to downplay the thoughtfulness of some very sweet and romantic men, but I must blog about the topic of romance for my own reminder that I never signed up for that adventure. My husband didn’t even propose. We just kind of agreed to get married.

LG writing on a hot dog would be so surprising that I would feel like I owed the man something HUGE: like the Wii he has been dying for or the idea that I am willing to iron all of his clothes. It’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about him going all crazy and romantic on me because I never want to be expected to iron. I only want to do it when I am in a good and nice mood.

It’s o.k. that LG isn’t romantic. Let’s just say that I didn’t marry the man with any false belief that I would turn him into some romantic at heart. (And, he certainly didn’t marry me with some false idea that I would be ironing his clothes for him.) I married him because he was the manly man kind who wasn’t romantic. I never wanted a husband who was too romantic. The cheese is just a little much for me at times; it’s a delicate matter, and LG is still trying to master a good balance with his finicky wife. I did want a man that was righteous, musical, athletic, kind, smart, and funny. That was pretty much the list since I can remember. I got what I wanted and he came with a bonus of being able to provide for his family and knowing how to be a great father.

He also came with one very important trait to the survival of our marriage. He never tries to tell me what to do. He always humors me and listens to me and sometimes he even validates me. If you were married to me, you would understand that him listening and letting me feel like I am in charge is so much more important than romance ever will be. In fact, him never telling me what to do is all the romance I ever need.

So, I was taken off guard at our romantic moment today. They are few and far between, and for me that’s o.k. We went out to lunch. As I dropped him back at work, we turned to each other and simultaneously said, “Thanks for lunch.” Nope, I didn’t pay for it, he did, but he never makes me feel like it’s his money. And, I never have to thank him for that reason. I didn’t say thanks because he was willing to fork over the cash, or even because he was willing to eat where I wanted.

I was thanking him for to his mere presence. And he was thanking me for my mere presence. And, in this house, it’s all about the presence. (And the tricky game of letting me feel like I am in control, even when I am not.) And my need for control and not romance is a really good thing because I buy my own dresses and we don’t put mustard on our hotdogs.

Eat, Drink, and Get a Refill

“The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder.”

~Alfred Hitchcock

This summer we have splurged and taken the kids to the real movies twice.

They were the matinee shows, but still a whole lot more expensive than our usual outing to the dollar show.

About a month ago we went and saw KungFu Panda.

And a couple of weeks ago we enjoyed every minute of Wall E.

They were both good, but Wall-E was our favorite.

If you’ve seen Wall-E, you will know what I am talking about when I say:

“It is plainly coincidental that I took the previous photo of
our HUGE drink two seconds before the show started.”

Here is the garbage can on the way out.

The theatre teenage workers were very amused that I was taking a picture of their pain.

It looks like I am not the only one who believes that if you splurge on $40 worth of movie tickets, you may as well round it off with an extra $20 for a large popcorn and drink that can be shared and refilled.

I know you will all think I am horrible when I tell you that I smuggle in the candy.

The real question is, ” Who is going to get up during the middle of the movie and fetch the refill?

That would usually be me. Isn’t that’s what mom’s are for?

Moms are also really good at making sure that their kids notice the cool new Dyson hand dryer in the bathroom.

After all that soda, we barely made it through the movie.

Alfred Hitchcock was from a different era of movie watching.

He and his little bladder were WAY before Supersize.

I really think that we should start a mother revolution and request that all family friendly movies implement a mid-movie potty/refill intermission.

And, with all those super sizes,

it’s no wonder that all Americans can relate to movies like Wall-E and KungFu Panda.

It’s a good thing we had the opportunity to work off the calories in the movie lobby on the way out.

Don’t wait until it’s too late.

You all know that I am huge advocate (meaning that I post about it from time to time on my blog) for mental healthiness. I hate to see people suffer because they are unwilling to let go of their pride and reach out to professionals. What I hate even more is to see people make their loved ones suffer because of their own untreated illness.

What I hate the most, is seeing people and families and friends suffer the effects of mental illness because of ignorance and/or for the fear of being stigmatized.

Here is a tragic story of how PTSD destroyed one of America’s heroes.

The argument could be made that the war destroyed this young man’s life, and I am open to that argument. I really don’t like war and wish it was never necessary to use force. (Although I understand America’s God given responsibility to promote freedom) But, really, this man did not have to take his own life. If he would have been successfully treated, he could have lived a long and happy life.

So, if any of you out there are depressed or anxietal or OCD or whatever else that you know deep down inside is not normal. Don’t wait until it’s too late. With medication and therapy, you can be as normal as me. 🙂 And, don’t let that stop you. As bad off as you think I am, it could be so so much worse.