USA

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?

I Feel E Beautiful

When people search the lyrics to the song I’m So Pretty on google, they must be surprised when they are brought to this old post which was titled with the words to a great Broadway song I Feel Pretty. It’s one of my favorite songs of all time.

I thought that the words said “I’m so pretty and witty and wise”, but after listening to the above mash up, I realize that I was mistaken, it’s really “I’m so pretty and witty and bright.” I like wise better, but really isn’t it the same thing?

This song has a great message and I wish to share it. Everyone should feel pretty. They should always feel pretty. Even without make-up or the latest fashions or any admirers to tell them so. I think although sometimes I feel fat, I have always felt pretty. I am not saying this to brag, but it’s true, I’m pretty. I am not drop dead gorgeous, but I don’t think I am hard on the eyes. Do other people even think about stuff like this? Am I just sounding like a total freak right now?

My sister came to visit this past weekend and she complained that I have such great skin while she still struggles with acne. She also told me that I better hurry and dye my grey hair. To try and counteract the hair comment, she said, “Alice, I wish I had as pretty of a face that you do.” Funny, I just want her marathon running body to go with my already gorgeous face. I guess this stems from so many people telling me that it was o.k. that I was fat because I have such a beautiful face. Hate on me haters. Seriously, they started telling me that at a young age. I guess I am a living testament to the power of complimentary behavior. I have always felt beautiful. (I have also always felt fat)

When LG and I were engaged, we were encouraged to take the this compatibility test at BYU before getting married the ten days later that we did. It was the worst thing we ever did for our marriage. We were told that we were compatible. (Hello, we already knew that) But, one of the questions of the test has been detrimental to LG and I both for years. It was:

Rate your potential partner’s looks.
a)ugly
b)below average
c)average
d)above average
e)beautiful

I chose C. LG chose D. When going over our results, I was heartbroken. I wanted to be E beautiful and I let him have it. Every girl should feel that their spouse thinks they are E beautiful. It still comes up from time to time. LG always defends himself that D (pretty) is perfectly great and that I said he was only C (average) and no one ever hears him complain.

There is no moral to this post. It’s more of the rambling type. I do think that there is power in the mind and that we should all be kind to ourselves. I am glad that I feel pretty. Now I am just going to work on feeling happy with the body that I have or do something to change it. I think I never really worry about it because even though I feel fat, I think that fat can still be pretty. In fact, fat can be E beautiful. Just look at the link below.

Even though this blogger has never acknowledged my existence, I am still going to send you to yet another one of her posts. It’s about body image. It’s awesome. And the women of Ghana would probably never call themselves fat. Maybe I should start there.

And if the post above doesn’t make you ready for bathing suit season, try this old post of mine.

My Little Monsters
Artistic Caroline presented by LG’s smartphone. Such a perfect depiction of her almost 2 year old attitude.
Sophia has been really sick.
And this mom has been really worried.
She didn’t have enough strength 
and was in too much pain 
and couldn’t go to school all last week.
They say she just has two really bad ear infections.
But I am not sure if that is right.
This girl has had A LOT of ear infections.
2 bouts of Swimmer’s ear.
Three sets of PE tubes.
And she has never been like this.
Her lymph nodes were huge on Friday night.
Visibly huge.
I also think she has a little whiplash from her cheer-leading class a few weeks ago.
Thankfully she looks a lot better today.
I am keeping my fingers crossed.
And praying more than crossing my fingers.
Especially since she just said her ear is hurting.
She already had one round of zithromax
and 3 shots of rocephin.
Sophia hasn’t been sleeping as much as she should. 
Her eyes were really really red and bloodshot yesterday.
Despite her lethargy, she was dying to go to church to be the reverence child.
(I looked for a link to an explanation for a reverent child, but I couldn’t find any –
a reverence child is the lucky kid who gets to stand in the front of the LDS sacrament meeting –
they stand with their arms folded and act as an example for the adults to remember reverence.)
Another side note: there is nothing like an assignment to be 10 minutes early for church to make a family 2 minutes late for church. We have been early for the past 6 weeks. Sorry Sophia.
After Sophia got dressed all pretty for church, Abigail voiced her observation:
“Look mom, Sophia looks like Rosalie (from Twilight).
Abigail was right. Sophia looked like she needed some blood bad. And fast!
Now I have two vampire children.
Just what I always wanted.
Thanks to all of our fallen soldiers who made it possible for me to raise a bunch of monsters.
We live in a wondrous country, despite the politicians.

I’ll take my car with some humor, please.
Somebody posted this picture on facebook and I went online to find the source.
Bravo to two car companies with a sense of humor.
I guess these billboards are a few years old.
Yet humor is timeless.
And hilarious.
Who knew I was mature?
Do you want to know what’s really funny?
The noise my husband’s car makes whenever you put it in reverse.
I am so glad I have learned to laugh at trivial nonsense.
And that in my heart I can have peace
and know that temporal things don’t matter.
Not one bit.
The most important thing is that I keep my cool.
And it’s kind of fun to have a good little test with our cars.
How long can it make that noise and still run
before it won’t run at all?
I think with LG’s new workplace being only 2 miles away,
and the fact we are purchasing him a bike this weekend,
we may have this car noise around for a very long time.
I am holding out for a year or so.
And really, it’s funny that we purchased his car in 2000,
and it will most likely be the car 
that all of our children are going to drive
when the turn 16.
Not only funny,
but a testament to Honda.
Speaking of children getting older,
wait for my post tomorrow. 
I am old.
Very very old.
So old I that I may go and finally get my ears pierced.
To rebel against my mom and her mantra
that if God wanted holes in my ears he would have put them there in the first place.
You see, I think I may have to show Abigail that she can do it.
And be the trial run.
Maybe we can get matching studs.
Oh yeah, we already have a matching stud.
He’s a guy with a car that makes a funny noise.
How sexy.

The trek west
.

I only made time for a photo op when I knew we were on the last leg of our trip This was taken shortly after I stopped at the Utah Visitor’s Center to make sure I wasn’t lost. The previous 100 miles were nervous making. I was sure I took a wrong turn somewhere in Colorado. For 100 miles I debated with myself about turning around. I could have kissed those old ladies that live in the middle of nowhere when they told me I was on the right route. My phone’s GPS wasn’t working and there was no service to double check with LG that I was following my directions correctly. And the atlas was with LG in the moving van because Abigail loved checking it throughout the trip. All I could do is be the Mormon Pioneer that I am and forge ahead.
Oh yeah, funny side story. When I called my dad to talk to him about the details of our arrival the week before we left Tennessee, we got talking about the move-in. He asked me if we had a hand cart. I couldn’t figure out why he asked me that. Did all people need an obligatory historical handcart to move into the state of Utah now-a-days? I had never heard of such a thing and there was no way we would be fitting one in our truck along with the thousand pounds of food storage. I told my dad, “No dad, we have a moving truck. Penske. It’s the 21st century. It’s not going to take us months. Hopefully. Just four days, dad. Hoepfully.” He and I laughed heartedly when he explained that he meant one of those little dolly things to unload the boxes from the truck.

Here are the only other photos that were taken on the trip:

Even though this was taken on the same stop at the Welcome to Utah sign, it could speak volumes for the wind that we experienced all the way through Kansas, the third day of the trip. We traveled through what seemed to be a lot of dead farmland, but as the car was thrown all over the road by the wind and repeatedly ran over tumbleweeds it was no surprise that we were in tornado territory. All I could do is hold tight, click my heals together and chant repeatedly “there’s no place like home”.

Olive made it. She thought she was miserable until we arrived and she found out that her new home would be “outside only”. She hates the garage, even if it is attached to the yard for her own leisure. She especially hates it when we are eating dinner. She goes outside and howls at the kitchen window, hoping for some scraps. The kids have made a game of standing on the kitchen bench and waving to her throughout our meal. I can only hope that as I adjust, so will Olive. At least I’ve figured out how to get her to stop howling through the night. Apparently locking her inside her kennel makes her feel safer. Go figure?
And there are no pictures of Kitty Bear. We drugged her up really good every morning and the drugs usually lasted until we had 1 -2 hours left each night, when while we were all at our end’s wit, we tried to ignore her meowing and scratching at her kitty carrier. I won’t even mention how when we stayed with our friends in Colorado on our last night, when we went to leave, we couldn’t find her anywhere in their garage. We searched for a good 15 minutes. I thought it especially generous that we searched at all considering she had kept us up the whole evening before meowing at the door. 
Kitty Bear must be a true Gold family member. She is always out to entertain. For some real fun, we couldn’t find her at all the whole day after we arrived in Utah. We were sure she had taken off to try to go back home to Tennessee. She had snuck in the house and was hiding in the food storage room. I guess that is where she took the most comfort because it’s the only room of our new house that has any semblance to her old space. Boy was I relieved to find her! After 4 days of drugging and dragging and scratching and wrestling and chasing, she had better not run out on us now.

A great shot of a dirty windshield if I do say so myself.  You would never guess that at every gas stop the girls fought and fought over who got to do the windows. That wasn’t the only fight along the way, but this mom stayed focus. They pretty much fended for themselves. Caroline came up with the game of throwing her pacifier at the windshield and yelling “paci, paci, paci” when she was really had it, which was pretty much every day from an hour after we got into the van. Notice the photo above where she has one pacifier in her mouth and one in her hand. Every stop we would gather as many as we could like ammunition. 
I was taken back by the blue in the skies. Who would have known that we barely missed a great big snow storm the day before. Only LG who was driving the moving truck with car trailer down the Rockies. You would think that the ritziest ski resort in the nation, Vail, would do a better job of making sure their roads were plowed. Needless to say, these Tennesseans who are very out of practice driving in snow were white knuckled for about three hours. Especially after passing accident after accident while winding and stopping and travelling what seemed straight downhill with a gorge on the side.
And for good measure. Here is the best shot Abigail could manage of the most entertaining thing we saw the whole way. Forget the St. Louis arches or the majestic snow topped Rockies. Here is what got the most laughs. The Wiener Mobile. It’s a good thing that Sophia was with dad in the moving truck because of all my children she would be the one to get the bright idea that this should be her only formidable mode of transportation when she turns 16.

As you all know by now, we made it.

Barely.

Thanks for all the prayers.

What I really want to know though is who is the jokester that included the request for the WienerMobile
and how did you know it was exactly what I needed after four days on the road?

Justin Beiber

Justin Beiber is a big deal in our family. Not because my four daughters drool over him, but because Sophia is quite sensitive on the subject. Her sisters like to tease her about the popstar.

One time Sophia cried for an hour because Abigail said Sophia wanted to marry Justin Beiber.

We try not to talk about the Beiber too often. We all love Sophia and don’t want to cause her any additional emotional distress.

When one of my nieces posted this picture on facebook it cracked me up.

I guess this kid (who believe it or not is not actually Justin Beiber) is the son of my brother’s new girlfriend. My two teenage nieces found his resemblance a little uncanny.


A while back another friend posted something on facebook that I thought was absolutely hilarious.

Cameron Smithson used to be a full-time Mormon missionary serving in Knoxville, TN. He is from California and we got along just great; we fed him and his missionary companion many meals. He is a really funny guy.

On his facebook he made reference to Hinckley’s 6 Be’s. Gordon B Hinckley was the President of our church and his counsel to the youth of the church to be grateful, smart, clean, true, humble, and prayerful was quite the phenomenon among church members for a while. Great advice if you ask me.

Now that you have the background, you will be able to laugh we with me at Cameron Smithson’s status.

Be grateful.
Be smart.
Be clean.
Be true.
Be humble.
Be prayerful.
Be – ber?

I hope Sophia won’t get wind of this post.

Tennessee Bridge
Please excuse my boo-hooing. This is going to be a very sentimental post.

I’m already crying and I haven’t even started writing yet. I’m a mess.

When my father in law e-mailed this photo, he had appropriately named it “looking west”.
 Maybe I should also get him to send me the other side entitled “looking east”
 as I am sure there will always be a part of me that will do both.

In 2003, LG and I, with our three little daughters crossed over this bridge for the first time as a family. The girls were so young: 4,2, and newborn. We had come across the country for law-school and Grandma Gold’s empty house was a perfect place for us to crash while we house hunted (an hour and a half away) in Knoxville. It was two doors down from my in-laws, which is about a mile beyond this bridge. We didn’t know it at the time, but we started a tradition. It had been a long trip, where we learned all sorts of car sanity games. We challenged Abigail to a Tennessee Bridge off. She must suck in all the air support she could and holler “Tennessee Bridge” as we drove over. She should not stop hollering until we safely reached the side closer to grammy’s house.

Well, here we are, almost eight years later. LG’s employment is going to drag us back to where we came from. We can’t complain. It’s a great job. We love Utah and we know it’s what God wants us to do, but it is very emotional…especially for a big sap like me.
My mother in law just posted a picture of the bridge on facebook and said they are closing it down. They have built a bigger and better bridge off  to the other side. All I can do is cry. And reminisce. And scream, “Nothing can be bigger or better.”
So many trips and holler contests are flying through my brain. Abigail is 4, then 5 then 11, ever increasing in volume and intensity. Sophia was 2 and couldn’t quite pronounce the words, but still hollered right along with her sister and now she quite possible has some of the best breathe control. Bella was probably just crying that first trip across, but her volume was likely as loud as it is today, even though the words now come out loud and clear: TENNESSEEEEE BRRRIIIIIIIDDDDDDGGGGE. 
Sometimes the girls were in soccer uniforms or church dresses. Sometimes the car was loaded down with winter gear and Christmas presents. Or food that we didn’t want to go bad in our fridge at home. Sometimes we had a cat with us and a dog. But never both the cat or the dog. Thank goodness. Sometimes they were in bathing suits and we may have even had the occasional birthday suit in there. I can smell the homemade loaves of bread that Faye sent home with us and the Thanksgiving leftovers. I am blinded by the black of most of the nights when we were headed back home while I calculated which caffeinated soda I would purchase at the corner gas station just beyond the bridge. The kids would already be falling asleep and wouldn’t even notice the bridge.
LG and I got really good at driving across that bridge super slow while the kids’ faces turned bright red and finally gave in to the need for oxygen. A parent has to do what they have to do for the occasional win. We would have to remind ourselves not to slow down if it was at night and the girls weren’t paying attention. The girls have now turned their attention to teaching baby Caroline the tradition.
I am not sure how many times LG told me of his trips to the little market close to the bridge while we drove by. “I always got my gas there when I was a teenager.” “Dad and I used to stop there for worms when we would go fishing.” “We used to drive our bikes down here when we were kids”, to which I would reply, “Are you kidding me? This highway is frightening.” The response would always follow, “Yeah Alice, I’ve told you a million times, we would take the back-roads; they are so much safer.” I would laugh inside because I don’t think that there are really any safe back-roads in the whole state of Tennessee; I have personally puked while trying them out in the car. That’s when I started driving everywhere so I could avoid car sickness.
But back to the bridge. They are tearing it down. They are tearing down a piece of our family. And I can’t stop crying, but I guess it is kind of fitting since we have to move forward. We can’t stay here forever.But even if we aren’t going to be Tennessee residents and even if we aren’t going to get to visit grammy and papa as often, we now know that at least a piece of each of our hearts will forever be floating down the great Holston River. I think I can hear it as it faintly rolls along to the tune of Tenneeesssssseeeee Briiiddddgee.
wah wah wah.

Not so glee

I have this problem.
I can hardly admit it.
It’s an addiction that a Mormon doesn’t like to talk about.
We try to keep it in the closet as much as possible.

Once in a while it just comes bursting out though.
I need to rid myself of the guilt.
The Glee induced guilt.
It doesn’t feel glee.

Yesterday I was sitting watching the show after school.
Hulu is my best friend, ever since Caroline lost our digital converter remote.
The girls gathered around.
I always get nervous about this.
I know I shouldn’t let them watch such trash.
This episode was particularly trashy.
I try to justify saying it gives us an open communication
about the evils of today’s world.

Well the show was all about under-aged drinking.
Just as the girls gathered around,
the main characters were gathering at a party.
Before I knew it, they were all drinking heavily
and doing stupid things associated with intoxication.

I said, “See kids, this is why Dad and I won’t allow you to go to parties where there is drinking.”

Later, Bella wandered off for an after school snack.
As she came walking back towards our TV viewing via PC,
she immediately noticed that the characters
had advanced to drinking at school.
Without missing a breathe, she hollars,
“See Mom, this is why you shouldn’t allow us to go to school.”

I’m a Tennessee Mormon
So, we’re moving back to Utah.
I am experiencing a full spectrum of emotions.
I am sad yet happy.
I am depressed yet hopeful.
I am relieved yet stressed.
I am excited yet contemplative.
I have been planning and organizing yet reflecting and pondering.
No wonder why I just want to stay in bed all day.
My mind and body are exhausted, and I haven’t even started cleaning or packing.

We love our home in Knoxville, Tennessee.
We especially love being members of
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
in Tennessee.
Our fellow church members are close-knit.
It becomes cliche,
but we really are
family.
One great big family.
We have to stick together.
As we are attacked on all sides.
The other inhabitants of
The Bible belt
actually believe all kinds of falsehoods
about us.
So,
we are very much a refuge
for one another.
We know we are not polygamists.
We know we are not a cult.
But most of all
we know
We
are
Christian.
In fact,
if you ever visit
a meetinghouse
on the first Sunday of the month,
you will hear
some of the sweetest
testimonies
of
Jesus Christ.
And
you may be surprised
that these
awe inspiring
words and feelings
come from
the Mormons
in the Bible belt.
They will bear testimony
of their love of the Bible.
They will testify of
the Savior of the world,
Jesus Christ.
They will talk about
their love for fellow man
Christian and non-Christian alike.
They will also talk about their love
for one another.
And the support
they receive from one another
in their goals
of living
Christ centered lives.
So,
thinking about leaving
our home of
eight years
is very
heart wrenching.
It is here
where people
have planned
“it’s great to be 8”
firesides
just for our daughter
and her best friend.
As they were the only
kids in the congregation
looking forward to
that momentous
birthday
in the same year.
The year they are old
enough to accept baptism.
And take upon them the
name of Christ.
It is here
that we are
always kind of surprised
but absolutely joyful
when we run into
another member
of our church
while shopping.
It is here
where our kids
were sometimes
the ONLY
Mormons
in their whole school.
And sometimes
the only Mormon
that people had
ever met in their life.
It is here
in
Tennessee
that we
as a church family
and as a family family
stood strong
together
against
adversity
of all sorts.
And I now know that I
am going back to another place that I love.
But in that place it is pretty sheltered.
I worry about my kids
understanding the actual world.
I have to admit that when I think
about the fact that
I will only have two
people from church to check in on
instead of 6 on a monthly basis,
I am a little relieved.
I am downright ecstatic that I will
never have to wake up my teenage
aughters at 5 am
for their 6 am Bible study
before school.
In Utah’s highschools
they have this thing called release time
where the kids get to cross the street
during a period of the day and
study scripture
at the LDS church across the street.
I may never feel like the people at church
are really family,
as most of them actually
are surrounded by real biological family,
but I will also know
that I have a very vast support system,
even if they aren’t as close to me.
The news coverage
may all be
from a Mormon’s
perspective,
but I will also get news that
I want to hear about,
that I can’t get here.
I will get to walk into
Mormon bookstores
instead of Baptist ones.
And buying my kids
a modest baptism dress
or a CTR ring won’t be an ordeal.
In Utah there aren’t any
dogwoods,
or
wreckers,
or
magnolias,
or
Vol fans,
or
riding mowers,
or
humidity,
or
fireflies,
or
smoky hills,
or
snowdays,
or
awesome
Southern Storms.
I will
miss them all.
(well maybe not the humidity)
But I will appreciate the things
that Utah does have
that Tennessee doesn’t.
Like
snowplows,
and
sidewalks,
and
temples,
and
caselot sales,
and
rocky mountains,
and
smooth gardening soil,
and
great camping weather.
I am sappy lately.
I am gonna miss being different.
It’s gonna be hard to go back to
a place where I am just
like everybody else.
O.k not just like everybody else.
Cause let’s face it.
I’m an original.
I don’t totally fit in anywhere I go.
And I prefer it that way.
I am also gonna miss my
mother-in-law and my sister.
A lot.
My mother in law, Faye, is the world’s best babysitter.
and one of my best friends.
And Shannon, my sister, is my best cheerleader.
My entire life she has watched out for me.
Thank goodness for
webcams,
jetplanes,
cell phones,
with
unlimited long distance,
and
wait for it
…..
facebook.
God knew I couldn’t leave
without having those.