Unpacking; it's a love-hate kind of thing.

See you next week when I've found my way out of these boxes.

Molly's Rule of Life #73

When it's 189 degrees in the shade the experts say to drink more water and lay off the rum. Actually they say that all the time, so it's a pretty good rule to follow.


Enjoy a Bacardi mixer from the frozen juice isle at your local grocery. Substitue water for Bacardi and you've got an instant afternoon cool off. Nothing beats a tall mojito with extra ice.

Good Word Wednesday

Remember when I told you about how we unpacked and I got to decorate my new house and the kids loved their new rooms and how great our new neighbors are? You don’t? Oh yeah, that’s because those things haven’t happened yet. Yet.

See, the family that bought our house back in Little-Big Town wanted a quick close and we were happily able to oblige. However, we weren’t due to move into our (former) new house for a couple weeks still. No big deal, because Olen’s parents very graciously offered to share their spare bedrooms until our move-in date. Except that house fell though. Well, then we started the house hunting again and had a house fall through again. All the while our two-week stay turned into a month, then two months and verging on three months when at last the house we were meant to have all along showed up. Seriously divine timing, folks.

But today’s story isn’t about the new house, that's still a work in progress, today’s story is about my father and mother-in-law. They will serve as the Be Humble on my “Be” gathering saga: Be True, Be Grateful, Be Involved, Be Still, Be Smart.

Living with your in-laws can be a super pain from what I hear from friends and siblings who have experienced the pleasure. Unless your in-laws are amazing like mine, of course. My children have been thoroughly spoiled by the attention from their grandparents these past two and a half months. All it takes for London to have a story read to her is to be sitting down with a book, and Porter has earned a jar full of quarters from the jobs he’s accomplished with his grandpa. My in-laws house is the hub of entertainment and we could have family stopping by at any given moment - instant play date with the cousins. I’ve enjoyed learning useful home keeping methods and sharing my cooking style on the family meals, and Olen sure hasn’t complained about catching up on fishing and hunting shows with his dad. Plus the on-hand babysitter when a quick trip to the grocery comes up is a huge plus.

I’ve chosen my father and mother-in-law as the Be Humble in my life because even though there isn’t a lot (only materially speaking); they have shared everything they’ve got with us. These past couple weeks as I’ve been painting and sprucing up the new place my kids have loved opening boxes and rediscovering their toys that have been stashed away in storage. When Porter first came to the house once our furniture had been delivered he said, “I forgot we had our own stuff!” Actually, I was beginning to forget too. But after the day of excitement wears down, both kids will ask to “…please go back home to grandma’s house now”. Then we do, and dinner is waiting on the stove. Sure, I’m really looking forward to my own house again, but it has been a good summer at the in-laws and I’m thankful for it.

London has learned how to tattle. I'll give you one guess who taught her...

London: "Porter is being really mean!"

Mom: "Really mean?!"

London: "Yeah. Really mean like...like...like a little sister!"

Mom: "Like a wh...oh, I get it...Porter!"

Flashback Friday

Olen asked at breakfast if I was going to do my Friday's Fantasy post today. He's so adorable.

I fell in love with the musical Wicked by reading through the words on sheet music. I had to have it, so I downloaded the whole thing onto my ipod. It became one of my favorite play lists to run to. I swear I could go faster when "Defying Gravity" came on. I cranked it in the car and Porter would ask me to turn it to the "La-La-La" song ("Popular"). I thought I would like the book too, but that is one trippy read. And pretty graphic. Couldn't get through chapter one.

Then Broadway brought Wicked to the west and we bought tickets. If you know me, then you might have guessed that I love musicals. I love singing them, I love being in them and I really love to watch them. Except West Side Story...never have liked that one. Go figure.

I bought our tickets the day they went on sale (in February?) and we had great seats. My philosophy when buying tickets to any show is, pay that extra twenty or thirty for the good seats, when will you be back? Make it a good memory. Oh, and it totally was.

Olen was mortified that I was taking pictures when the Playbill said not to, and the Nazi Ushers were looking all around for flashes (maybe the set design was copyrighted? Because it was totally wicked, ya know.). There wasn't much to take pictures of anyways, we were in our seats forty-five minutes early! No one tapped me on the shoulder, but they did catch the couple sitting next to us and asked them to put their camera away for the evening. They were only fifteen minutes early.

Good Word Wednesday!

Well, I need to finish what I've started and I'm getting pretty close.

I've got Be True, Be Grateful, Be Involved and Be Still.

Today here's:

I picked up some review books from the local Teaching Tools for Porter and I to work on this summer. Remember when I was thinking of homeschooling? Well turns out that's harder than I thought. Trying to dedicate about an hour's worth of time just for the summer school review that I planned is tough.

Errands need to be ran, home keeping tasks pop up, London needs my attention, Porter's attention wanders and things just keep getting in the way. In short, life keeps happening. And in October we'll add another kid to the mix, so I ain't getting any less busy that's for sure. Excuses. Excuses. But really, I could see how things would end up and it wouldn't be fair for me to put Porter's education on the back burner because things just keep "coming up".

The decision was made to keep Porter's education primarily in the hands of a third party. He's one lucky kid, though. He'll be going to school with his Auntie Aubrey and that pretty much makes school a dream come true for my little man Port and makes this mama feel better about sending him next month. Now for all that back to school shopping. I still get a knot in my stomach when I walk down the crayon isle and think of that first day of school.

Up my sleeve...

Mamasita Bonita taught me, "You don't have to pay full price to look like you do." So I don't. Hardly ever. Unless I can't live without it...Point is, we're all looking for ways to have a dollar-sized life for the cost of pennies. Well, even if you aren't, I'll show you how you still can and no one will know the difference. Not even you.

Introducing:

A place to learn good deals and realistic imaginative ways to keep those pennies safe and sound.

A new regular segment found exclusively at yours truly.

The Home Date:

This is when you send your little lambs away to dreamland and go out on a date to your living room. No babysitters or reservations required. Having a plan makes the date even more special because you are anticipating your getaway. Olen and I usually snuggle with a Netflix and some Ben and Jerry's. You could also plan a spa night where you each receive and give pedicures (men love pedicures, they just don't admit it), or a run to Filli-B's for some carne asada french fries and catching up on your favorite TV show, or take out and a foreign film to match. Maybe just a wrap session at the end of the day is all you need to recharge your love batteries; simple talk about how your day went is crucial and often bypassed with baths and bedtime. So on those nights that you just need the day to end, give your bank account the night off and ask your Sweetheart out on a date to the living room. Your only limit is your imagination.

Play time.

I've been painting our new house this week. Except for Wednesday which was filled with more real estate continuing education classes that make me want to shoot myself go out and be a freak awesome Realtor. Yay! And well, since I've been preoccupied I have nothing to document for the week. Well, at least not yet. Just wait to see what I can do with a can of paint and an empty room. I have been a busy girl.

Until that post(s) comes to full fruition, how about a diversion?

My clever sister-in-law once wrote this post idea on her blog, and as I've been trying to catch up with you all and leaving notes, I thought it would be fun to bring the idea back. It's a very awesome idea, so blog love to Katie.

Here's how the game goes: You know those annoying letter sequences you have to type in so that Blogger knows you're a real person and not C-3PO leaving random comments on people's blogs? Well, take that sequence and either 1) create a definition for the word or 2) use the sequence in a sentence. Anything goes, you can't loose. Just give it a shot because no matter what it'll all be fab and make me laugh. Stop by again because I'll be playing all weekend.

Molly's Rule of Life #14

Sometimes you may say you will never own something. Then you see them on sale for $1 at Walmart. Life is a series of compromises.

Skeleton revealed:

Today over at Emmy’s we’re all sharing an embarrassing moment from our childhood. I really did try to think of one and came up with nothing; because I was so practically perfect as a child, you know. Not. Really I think it’s because as children we do things that seems so normal and commonplace that we don’t catch on to their absurdity till later in life when we look back and think, “Man, was I a weird kid.”

So then I started to think about the weird stuff my brother and sisters and I would come up with to pass the time, and I remembered: We were the kings and queens of make-believe.

Every Sunday we would visit the Lehi ranch home of my Granpa Eddie and Gramma Sue. After being served dessert, all grandchildren would file outside while the adults caught up on life. On their sprawling backyard two territories were made; the Cats and the Unicorns. If you were a boy, you were a cat. If you were a girl, a unicorn. Unicorns would naively wonder into the meadow to eat the lush grass but were always ambushed by those nasty brute Cats and have to run back to their homes before being taken prisoner. Sometimes the Unicorns would get captured and then the Queen Unicorn had to bargain with the King Cat to get her back. This was the most elaborate of all our make-believe games, and could go on for hours, and always did.

On evenings when we felt especially adventurous we would huddle together after being tucked in and organize a “Plan”. This meant that someone would wake up in the middle of the night and then wake everyone else up, too. We would sneak outside with our pillows and blankets and meet on the trampoline. From that point we would look at the stars, sneak food from the kitchen and tell scary stories or fall back to sleep. The whole trick was to not get caught and told to return to our beds. The ultimate thrill was to make it till morning.

The backyards of my childhood were landscaped with grass in some seasons and dirt and weeds in others. This made the perfect playground for mud pies and Witches Pond. On summer nights when we could stay up longer with the sun, lost children would wonder into the woods and discover a statue in the far corner of a pond. When the children would touch the outstretched hand of the statue the Witch would spring to life and yell, “Who has entered my pond!” I usually played the witch and could always get a scream.

As I’ve been writing and remembering these games, I still don’t think they sound too weird. In fact I think they’re pretty clever games to be made by eight-year old children. Maybe it’s about time Porter and his cousins learned the rules of Cats and Unicorns; I would love to see that one played out again.

How 'bout you?

What did you make believe?

Whattaya make of this...

Last night I dreamed that Martha Stewart wanted to meet me. First, you should know that I am not a Martha-maniac. I just want to be her best friend and have her believe that her magazines, blogs, TV shows, radio broadcasts, cookbooks and all other merchandise couldn't go on unless I was there by her side giving her the thumbs up. That's all. So, I had this dream last night that she wanted to meet me. I was like, "Well I'm kind of busy, but, maybe this weekend."

So I fly to her house in Connecticut where we sit on her front porch. She says, "I have a job for you." I say, "I'll take it." She says, "There's one condition, you've got to give me your baby." I said, "Um, what's the job?" She tells me it's her personal advisor. Score! But the baby thing I'm not sold on, so I said I would work until I had my baby and then I would make up my mind. She agreed. The next thing I know, I'm having my baby. Except it wasn't a baby. It was a little pug puppy. The kind with dark eyes almost too large for it's head and a little squished face. It was furry and soft and warm. I snuggled my little pug puppy and told Martha to take her job and shove it. Then I left for home.

Now, if you're thinking that's a pretty freak dream, then we're on the same page. I've been awake since five o'clock, and I can't stop thinking about it. It was one of those dreams that was so real I woke up not really knowing where I was and I had to look down to see if I was still pregnant. I believe that dreams really do hold messages or meanings into minds, hearts and future, don't you? But in real life I would never take a job that would cause me to leave my family; much less voluntarily give a member of my family away, obviously no matter what species it happen to be. And I can't imagine myself ever telling Martha Stewart to "shove it". I don't even talk like that. Bizarre!

So, as I've been lying here on your straight, uncomfortable couch and you've been sitting across from me taking notes, what do you make from all that? Just another crazy pregnant dream again, or what? I'm looking for my sanity. Have you seen it lately?

Flashback Friday!

Flashback Friday is when I get to pull a picture out of my hat and talk about it. It's a great day, like show and tell. Sometimes I pull from yesterday or ealier this month or last week or another life, whatever picture I feel like has a story to tell.

Today I am going to finish telling the love story I started here way back when. It's really a fairy tale come true, and here's how it went last night.

Well, it's true ya know.

Good Word Wednesday

We're back! I got out of the car yesterday and my shirt was plastered to my back from sweating (with the air on!) and I was sure wishing we weren't back. It was so great up there in the mountains with the light rainy days and no schedules to keep. Here's how it went:

Friday we took it easy and enjoyed the amazing weather; it rained off and on all day and just felt heavenly. When it cleared up a little we went for a drive to a secret local creek and let the kids catch tad poles while the adults ate watermelon and kept the little girls from floating away.

Saturday was the big celebration day. In the morning I got Porter up early, already dressed for our 2-mile fun run, we slipped our shoes on and left to join the race. He had a great attitude at the starting line and took of sprinting. I ran along beside him until his little legs got tired and then we just walked the rest of the way. As we went he asked me a list of random questions which is really just the norm for Porter (" What's your favorite scripture from the Bible?" "Do you think that if I had a six-layer dynamite I could blow a cave in that mountain?" "Did you know that the sun is actually just covered in volcanoes?") He was so much better than my ipod. I don't know who won, it wasn't us, but it was my favorite race ever.

At the parade Elle and I went down to the family spot and waited for Olen and Porter to cruise by in The General Lee. When we heard the tune of Dixie (the trademark horn-honk of the car, ya know) we get closer to see my boys all in smiles and trying to act like their dreams really aren't coming true. I was blowing kisses and Olen and his car were under small-town paparazzi attack. It was beautiful. Side stories of the ride up there: Olen didn't want to haul his car up to the parade in the trailer, he wanted to drive it. So I followed behind like the groupie I am and watched cars speed up to Olen on the highway only to slow down and sway a little as they were taking a picture with their camera phone. At one gas stop in a tiny town I heard one man say, "That's The General Lee, man! I would give my good teeth for that car." No kidding. It was seriously awesome. When a loaded Cadalac Escalade pulled up to Olen at the stop light out of town and revved its engine, guess what Olen did? Gave them a good show of revving his engine and beat them off the line honking Dixie as he went. I was left in the dust only to imagine the smile Olen was trying to hide.

The fireworks show was the longest I can remember in our seven years' experience. No kidding, folks, you haven't seen fireworks until you see them in those canyons. I really felt like I could have been watching the rocket's red glare and bombs bursting in air.

Sunday and Monday were spent resting and taking the kids and company to see a movie at the closest theater in the next town over. Turns out the best way to keep a three year-old entertained during a movie is to give her a pair of 3D glasses. London wore her glasses and never took them off, and I actually got to watch the movie, too.

Now it's back to business as usual and whatever that means. I guess it means going to my Real Estate license renewal classes today, tucking The General Lee in and getting back to life in 115 degrees.

Here's the photographic evidence:

We're off to the high country to see the fireworks in the canyon.

This is one of my most favorite holidays and family traditions. This year Olen and Porter will transform into Luke and Bo Duke and strut their Good Ol' Boy stuff in the Heber/Overgaard 4th of July Parade.

Olen has been so adorable getting his General Lee polished and primed, and Porter has been rehearsing his loudest "Yee-Haw!" to yell as they speed by at 5 miles an hour down the parade line. Elle and I will be the ones waving like maniacs on the side lines and snapping loads of pictures.

This is the first year for the benefit race and I hope that Carissa's Run will only get larger and larger in the years to follow. I will be running the 2 mile fun run with Porter. (Porter said "That doesn't sound very fun." I said, "You should wear a pair of my compression stockings and then see how much fun it will be to run in them." I got a funny look. He didn't get it.) Next year I'll be more up to speed and get to run the 10K (without compression stockings, I hope!).

Good Word Wednesday

Still just picking up my "Be's" as I go.

I have, Be True, Be Grateful, Be Involved and today I've got: