The Dad Life

Girls can play football too.

On Sunday, my hubby, LG got up to give a talk.
He was as cute as usual; I love hearing him speak.
He never does it publicly unless he is assigned.
Following, our three girls, me,
and the ward’s Young Women’s choir,
he got a little choked up as he said that good women are a theme in his life.

After all, he is the dad of four beautiful daughters
and the husband of a pretty hard to handle wife.

He then told a funny story.
Hit the read more. You don’t want to miss this one.
It’s about the kid shown above. And football.


I never blogged this when it happened so I was glad for the reminder found in my hubby’s brain.

About a year ago, LG was serving as a Scout leader.
Our time was always precious,
and so LG took Bella with him to a Wednesday night activity.
The boys played football and they were great to include Bella.
She loved it and was talking up the game the whole way home.

She then begged for a football for her birthday.
LG went out and got a football for her.
Usually the gift buying is up to me, so it was a pretty big deal.
Bella was so excited, tore into the package,
and entreated her dad to “play now daddy.”

Before they could go out to the yard
so that LG could show me that Bella
has some pretty good throwing potential,
Bella ran with the ball back to her room.

When she came bouncing back down the hall,
I think LG had a taste of reality.

She handed LG the ball,
which she had sprayed with adhesive glitter.
“Look dad, I made it sparkle.”

I love that girl.
And I am secretly jealous that I never played football.
I didn’t want to be one of “those” girls,
but I sure do love the sport.
I think I could have been good at it.

It would be a dream come true to see Bella succeed with football.
And I don’t care what you really think.
If you ever see her, you better tell her
how cool it is that we just signed her up
to play in our local flag football league.

Let’s just keep her balls glittery.
Just to be safe.

My husband loves his moobs.

Abigail thought she was being clever to shorten the name for LG’s manboobs to moobs.
Little did she know that the term is already in use everywhere.
Surely she hadn’t ever referenced the urban dictionary.
I guess it’s an easy combination to conclude.

Here is a funny story just for my sister in law Meagan
who has missed the old me while I was caught up in too much drama.

A while back we were having a talk about modesty.

I was telling Abigail to go and put a T-shirt on over her undershirt.

I said, “Cover up Abigail, nobody, including your family members want  to see your bra all hanging out.”

Abigail said, “Nobody needs to see dad’s moobs through his sexy silky undershirt either.”
LG loves to taunt the girls when he wears his one silky top.
He also loves to taunt me when we go to sleep at night.
Oh Alice, you know I’m wearing my sexy silky right?
Uh huh, hun, why don’t you take it off? Take it all off baby.
And hurry, cause that see-through top kind of creeps me out.

Before I went into the whole Emma Watson routine,
LG kicked in.

“I find the whole concept of being ‘sexy’ embarrassing and confusing. If I do an interview with photographs people desperately want to change me – dye my hair blonder, pluck my eyebrows, give me a fringe. Then there’s the choice of clothes. I know everyone wants a picture of me in a mini-skirt. But that’s not me. I feel uncomfortable. I’d never go out in a mini-skirt. It’s nothing to do with protecting the Hermione image. I wouldn’t do that. Personally, I don’t actually think it’s even that sexy. What’s sexy about saying, ‘I’m here with my boobs out and a short skirt, have a look at everything I’ve got?’ My idea of sexy is that less is more. The less you reveal the more people can wonder. – Emma Watson



He said, “Girls, for every time you wear something that is too revealing,
I am going to take my shirt off and show my moobs to your friends.”

Oh the horror.

The girls screamed in unison…”NOOOO, not the moobs”.

“Oh, yes I will. I’ve got moobs and I know how to use them.”
He shot a wink my way.
I smiled.
And then had a good belly laugh.

Does that make me a pervert? Since I think that is absolutely hilarious, and if he ever did flash the moobs to scare our girls, I would most definitely take a look.

My love affair with THE Wal-Mart

How anyone living in the 21st century can avoid shopping at Wal-Mart is beyond me?

If you have found the secret, do tell.
Recently I have reconnected with the site
Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness.
There are some crazies out there.
It’s really sad to think I am one of them.
I just entered my self-check out story in their contest.
I can’t remember the offered prize,
but what do you want to bet
that it’s going to require more of my life
given to my local Wal-Mart?
Shoot, now I hope I lose.
Unless of course,
I won’t have to actually spend
my own money at the place.
Tristi had a hilarious tweet the other night.
It said, “I got an e-mail from Wal-Mart, they miss me,
uh, I was just there an hour ago.”
Truth is always the best humor.
I was shocked at myself today when 
I not only respected but admired some people 
over at Wal-Mart:

Please tell me all my shopping hasn’t tainted

the little bit of sanity I have left.
Whose with me?
Is this not the smartest way a man could wait for his wife
while she is shopping?
You know how I always get distracted
in those clearance sections.
I mean he could probably
sneak in a whole basketball game
when it’s back to school season.
The only thing that I would suggest
as improvement
are a few extra camping chairs
kiddie size.
If you get my drift.
Then mommy could really get her shopping on.
A set up like this would have really come in handy
Wow.
I really am confessing
all my love for Wal-Mart today
aren’t I?
I think next month my game
is going to be
who can tell the best Wal-Mart story?
I think my mother in law has one
about someone passing gas.
Go ahead, feel free to give us a teaser.

Oh yeah, and don’t forget this month’s contest.
I’ve only got six funny jokes to choose from so far.
You don’t want to disappoint my kids, do you?
Your chances of winning a $20 giftcard of your choice
are looking real good.
Who wants one to Wal-Mart?

This One’s For the Boys (and Men)

The other day we were getting lunch ready
and I told Sophia to go ahead
and cut herself some cheese
from the big block of Cheddar.

(You already know where I am going with this, don’t you?)

Sophia is trying with all her strength.
She declares,
“I can’t cut the cheese.”

I respond with a chuckle,
“You can’t cut the cheese?”

Originally Sophia doesn’t get my joke.
“No. Mom, it’s too hard.”

Me: “It’s too hard to cut cheese?
We better tell dad about this.”

The mention of her dad
is a dead boy joke giveaway.

“MMoooommm. Gross.”

I wish she couldn’t cut the cheese.
I really do.
I wish even more
that her dad couldn’t cut the cheese either.

Here is some more fun boy type entertainment.
This top video is the bomb.
LG wants to recreate it using nerf guns.
Right after he makes a hilarious video about cutting cheese.

Don’t miss the fireworks.

So, on Saturday night at 10 pm, LG and I were walking out of the temple.
Yes, this temple. How amazing is that?

From our view up on the hill, there were fireworks going off all over the valley. It was absolutely breathtaking.

LG informed me that The Stadium of Fire would be happening any moment. For some reason, in my mind, I thought that it was going to happen on the actual 4th.

I decided we should hurry home and find a spot to watch the fireworks.

To my dismay, when we got home, the kids had no interest whatsoever in breaking away from the TV.

I pried their bodies and eyes from the tube, and made them pile in the car. I was not about to miss the fireworks, especially after this post.

As we drove down State street (Utah Valley’s version of Knoxville’s Kingston Pike) I was overwhelmed by so many US flags lit up along the road. The patriotism of Utahns is not only efficacious but admirable. People either love America here or they display their stars and stripes to compete with all the other businesses. And by all, I mean ALL. Everyone has a flag. Everyone.

The kids were grumbling during the whole drive.
Why do we have to do this?
We don’t want to watch the fireworks.
Let’s just go back home.
wah wah wah.

I told them to keep their eyes on the flags and to sing along.
I started loud and strong:

This land is your land, this land is my land….nothing but my voice.
Oh beautiful, for spacious skies….again, nothing from the back seats.
She’s a grand old flag, she’s a high flying flag….”Shut up, mom.”
God bless America….”Really, Alice, do you have to sing so loud?” said quietly by LG so the kids wouldn’t hear; I’m assuming he didn’t want to totally stomp on my love for country.
I’m proud to be an American….(even louder than before)

By this time the kids were all horrified and hating their mother and her motherland.

And guess what? By the time we got to Provo’s end of State from our northern end of Orem’s State, all we could see was traffic. The traffic was heading towards us, not with us.

Yes, I hate to tell you, Murphy’s Law is still in full effect, and has no respect for a nation’s holiday celebrated two days early or a very loud and song singing patriotic mother. We had missed the fireworks.

More grumbling, complaining, and whining ensued.

LG and I were not about to miss a good opportunity for teaching our kids.

Me: “Knock it off you guys, at least we still live in a country that has firework celebrations.”
LG: “There are a lot of kids in this world that would die to be in this car right now.”
Me: “Or to even have a car.”
LG: “Or to have a mother.”
Abigail: “Not if their mom sang like that.”
Me: “Especially if their mom sang like that.”
LG: “Yeah, think of all the kids out there that don’t live a country where they have mothers.” (O.k. I just made that up.) I think he really said, “You should be grateful for a mother who can sing, and cook, and do laundry.”

Abigail: “At least parents in other countries would be smart enough NOT to drive their family into the middle of the traffic jam, especially when their family missed the show.”
Me: “Well, at least there are other Americans with cars.”
LG: “And at least your mom can see in the dark and drive.”
Bella: “Mom, STOP!” (I admit it I barely missed that car in front of me.)

Anyhow, the conversation went on for a bit. And there was no chance of it stopping.
[In fact, it can still be happening if you want to comment what your best line would have been to the kids.]

Quietly, ever so quietly and with her Gold sense of perfect timing, Sophia chimes in. She must have looked up from reading Harry Potter for long enough to gather her sisters’ desperation for winning at the “Be glad you are American” game.

What does she say?
Brace yourself.

“Man, I wished I lived in Canada.”

Seven words. That’s all it takes to make a total complete disaster of an evening all worth it.
Good one Phia. Good one.
Average Americans should really consider more than 2.5 kids; they make everything more fun.

I told the kids that if they would sing their favorite patriotic song at the top of their lungs, then I would indeed STOP.

Abigail was loud and proud. I wonder where she gets that from?
“I’m a yankee doodle dandy. A yankee doodle, do or die.”

I am sure that all that traffic surrounding us was so grateful that they didn’t miss the real entertainment of the evening as I rolled all windows down.

And If I do say so myself those frostys from Wendy’s were the perfect consolation prize for everyone involved. Nothing like good old American food.

And when the song Firework came on the radio. I promise you, not just momma was singing. Even dad got in on the falsetto. Perfection, pure perfection.

We didn’t miss a thing. The fireworks had been going off in our car all night long.

And guess what? Utah loosened their firework laws this year. We can now shoot off 150 foot rockets from our very own neighborhoods. And on the real 4th of July, the sky was lit up in every direction we could turn. Our culdesac of fire was a billion times better than their Stadium of Fire. Fireworks in the sky on all four sides, coming from everywhere.

God bless America.

In The Moment

Thank you to NieNie for the video.

Powerful stuff.

I am so much better at living in the important moments on Sundays.

Thank you God for a day of rest.

Please help me to slow down during the week.

And please give me the strength to wake up early enough to surprise my man with the breakfast of his dreams. I know I can’t live up to his mom in that way, but I have provided the man with four beautiful children, and I hope he knows how much I love him. And how when my life is over, all of my most important moments will include him.

I love you LG.

And Happy Father’s Day to Duane and dad.
Thanks for all your moments. That add up to eternity. Can’t wait to spend it all together.

Here is a great idea for a last minute Father’s Day gift. Brought to you by my very own Sunday School teacher. She also happens to have a great blog. And she believes in enjoying the moments as evidenced by her killer Harry Potter parties. I hope I get to go next month.

Father’s Day Nots

I may not be able to tell you what you should buy for your dad/hubby for Father’s Day, but I can tell you what NOT to buy.

My hubby, LG, was checking out Amazon’s list of Father’s Day sale items and gave me the low down.

Here was his strongest reaction.

Tupperware? Tupperware! Tupperware?! Show me one dad in the universe that would want Tupperware for Father’s Day.

Knives are just a tad bit better, but seriously? Who is running this website? Every metrosexual homosexual girly stay-home dad they could find?

Hmm. Robotic lawnmower. (said in a non-emotional voice)

Me: I thought you would love that?

LG: Oh yeah, that is cool. I would love that.

My man would also love that metal detector. It’s a gadget. Anything gadget is beyond good. We decided that Ikea is the best store ever for a date-night because it combines a man’s love for gadget with a woman’s love for decor and beauty. He would also love the flatscreen or the wireless wireless forecast station.

Looking at the list this morning, I don’t need my man to give me his two cents to instantly pick out other items that would be a bust at my house: lava lamp (he is 35 now), Jalepeno Rack (what the crap is that?), the turkey fryer (he wouldn’t even be able to try it out until November), the picture frames (he doesn’t love us that much), Desktop Humidor (I know we are kind of less than cultured but what is that? Is it just that I am a Mormon. Is a Humidor where a man keeps his cigars? I seriously don’t know), the white dinky office chair (he’s a man people, he wants a real chair), and last but certainly not least, the gnome (what kind of fathers day message does that send…you are so…um…round in the middle).

If I HAD to buy from Amazon, I would go with the hammock on the second page. Or the robotic lawn mower. I would maybe even entertain the idea of the outdoor food smoker (if the man actually EVER cooked anything in his life).

Since the lawnmower is 800 fat ones and the metal detector is 849 and the flat screen is only 42″, I guess I am going to have to go with my first and best idea: vienna sausages.

I try to buy the man some kind of sausage for every holiday and the little metal can will take him right down  memory lane. He was telling the girls just yesterday about when he was a kid he loved his Saturday adventures. He would load up his backpack with everything he needed (food, water, toilet paper) and head out for an adventure on his bike. He would be gone all day looking for abandoned building out in the forest. For some reason that he can’t explain, his food always included vienna sausages. Gross.

This year, I am packing a backpack full of vienna sausages and taking the man on an adventure for Father’s Day. I might even give him the ultimate gift. I might even eat one of the sausages. Or not.

Or I may have to rethink the whole holiday by shopping at America’s true manly man store.

Walmart here I come.

 I would never want to disappoint this man. Look at him. He’s the best daddy ever.

This article was first published and filled with useless links as Father’s Day Nots on Blogcritics.

Although I was honored for my post to be chosen for publishing, 
I am not sure if I will ever enter another post for their review in the future
as it brought me no hits and it seems that the whole point of Blogcritics
is to use others’ writing to shamelessly earn income for themselves.

Funny Dads are best

Check out the dad who dressed up every day of school last year to wave his son off.

He has entertained his son, all the kids on the bus, his neighbors, and a whole lot more via the world wide web.

I am so grateful his wife recorded every single outfit.

This is my kind of guy. Thanks to whoever you are that turned me on to the local Utah County phenomenon by sharing this news article on their facebook.

I looked and laughed at every single picture.

I wish I had ideas as good.

I wish more people in this world could turn away from the wicked stuff and just go back to having a good old time.

My Tennessee influence has to claim this get up the winner of all.

But now that I am in Utah again,
this is a very close second.
I wonder if they played missionary tag that day at school 
in honor of the ultimate funny dad?

Speak up Sophia.

Sophia is our quiet child. She is our low maintenance child. I am always worried that I am not giving her enough attention because to be quite honest, in a crazy house like mine, she is a breathe of fresh air. She is so easy to raise. I would never make the mistake of calling her perfect because nobody is perfect, but as far as being her mom, she is really really easy. She doesn’t require much but some food and water. Heck, she is lower maintenance than our dog. She is definitely quieter than our dog. She rarely barks. She noticed her picture and came over to read what I was writing. She says, “I do not bark.”

Well, I’ve blogged before about a big oops with Sophia. These slip ups seem to be happening more regularly. Just the other day I found myself at Walgreen’s purchasing lemon heads and chocolate ice-cream to say I was sorry for missing her school program. My husband was having a crisis and his brother stopped in on his way through town to say good-bye before we moved. With all the drama, I totally spaced that I was supposed to go to her day program to make up for the night before when I was at Abigail’s school program that took place at the exact same time. I don’t know how single moms do it; my hubby and I have to divide and conquer all too often. Well, I cried to Sophia, apologized profusely, promised to watch the video, and cautioned her that she may as well learn now that nobody is perfect and she is gonna be let down. I told her that there was only one person that would never let her down. And she said that she knew that. I said, “Well, who then?” She replied, “Jesus Christ.” Very good. I am not totally failing as a parent.

Unless you count what happened at church couple of weeks back. Sophia was assigned to give a talk to the other kids. I totally forgot. In my defense, I told Sophia on Saturday to remind me that evening and she forgot too. On the way to church on Sunday morning, I told Sophia we would just tell her leaders that we forgot or the other option was for Sophia to find a scripture to share during the first hour and just give a brief testimonial about it. Well guess what? In between the drive to church and the hour after the first meeting got out, I forgot again.

So, you can imagine my surprise when Sophia comes up to me after the three hours of church and tells me she was so embarrassed for her talk. Hard slapped open face palm to forehead kind of moment. And then I may as well have slapped myself across the face too for being such an awful mom. I apologized and asked her what she did. She said she just got up and talked and that Daddy had come to watch. What? Why didn’t daddy rescue her? They didn’t come and get me because I was teaching the women’s class, but they did go and fetch LG from the man’s class. He, of course, had no idea about all of the above on-goings and walked into the Primary room figuring that I had taken care of it.

As we talked about it on the way home from church, LG was a doting father. He said that she pulled it off rather well. She pretty much just rambled about how she knows the Bible to be the true word of God. (I would say that has to count for something that she even knew on her own to talk about such a serious topic). LG then went on: She then clammed up and got quiet. She turned her head to the side and whispered to the Primary leader, “I am so embarrassed.” The kids heard. They chuckled. It lightened the moment, and she was able to finish it out.

Sophia had succeeded in filling her alloted time. LG was proud. The primary children had been entertained. The primary leader had been fooled into thinking that Sophia was overcome by the Spirit of God, but just for a second until Sophia proclaimed her embarrassment. I was left once again hoping to improve as a mother, but overall I count it a success. Mostly because our whole family laughed consistently for an hour after church while Sophia retold the experience over and over again.

I am pretty sure that the next time she has a talk, she won’t forget to remind me to help her. Or and this is a big OR the next time Sophia will tell her Primary President she dropped the ball OR the girl is gonna get pretty good at winging it. It’s not like we haven’t given her plenty of opportunity for practice.