We (Heart) Orthodontists

I had perfectly straight and healthy teeth growing up, not getting my first cavity until just after my senior year of high school. I assumed (and we all know what happens when we assume something!) that my kids would follow in my footsteps that way. Unfortunately, none of the three have.

Evan and Braden have both had braces on for the past two-and-a-half years. Braden has been told that he will get his top braces off at his next visit in a week, and hopefully only 6 more weeks before the bottom come off as well. Evan has at least one or two more visits, and then his should be off also.

Savannah, although only 10, already knows that braces are in her near future. Earlier today she came to me to let me know that she's got her mouth all figured out.

Intrigued, I asked, "Really?"

"Yes," she replied. "My top teeth hate each other," showing me the wide, nearly identical gaps between all of her top teeth. They certainly do look like they're trying to avoid one another.

"And the bottom ones love each other," she continued, pointing to the bottom row where about 6 in a row fight for the same inch of space on her jawline. "Look, it's a group hug!"

Sigh... At least she has a good sense of humor about it. Maybe she can become a comedian to help offset the cost of yet another 2-3 years at the orthodontist.

Two Words

"WINTER . SUCKS ."

That is all...

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Here lately, I have been flooded with nostalgia for the time when my kids were little. And when they were little, I couldn't wait for them to be bigger: big enough to get their own breakfast, big enough to tie their own shoes, big enough to do their homework without help, on and on... I'm sure I'm not alone as a mom having those wishes. When you're right there in the thick of it, it seems like they will NEVER grow up.

Now, however, reality has smacked me upside the head. Evan's 17 and only has 1 1/2 years more of school, and Braden 2. Evan has his driver's license and his first real job. Braden is eligible for his learner's permit now. And both boys are talking about joining the military, which scares me to death, even though Josh is already in (which also worries me to death). Savannah is in 5th grade, which around here means that she is in her last year of elementary school. She's starting to go through the first of many changes. Some days, she even has the start of that 'tween attitude, which I'm pretty sure I am NOT ready for. :)

Yesterday, the boys splurged and went to Salt Lake for a Utah Jazz basketball game. Savannah and I decided it was only fair to do something too, so we went to dinner at a new Chinese restaurant in Hyrum (which was very good, by the way!) and then to a Christmas play put on by the Pickleville Playhouse, which was hysterical. We haven't had a good "mommy-daughter" date for a while, so we both really enjoyed the evening. I had recently read on another blog about a book for 8-13 year old girls entitled "The Care and Keeping of You." It's a very informative, illustrated book that teaches girls pretty much everything they may need to know about going through puberty. Savannah acted horrified and embarassed that I would get her such a thing, but on the car ride home last night she read it by the light of her cell phone, read it at home until she fell asleep with it, and then resumed reading it first thing this morning until she had completed it. Methinks the lady dost protest too much! :)

I've been feeling badly that I don't ever get to spend any quality time with the boys anymore. Tonight, Evan had his girlfriend over and needed to run her home at the end of the evening. It had been snowing here all day, so I offered to drive them since he hasn't really had the joy of driving in the snow much. My worried-mama mind conjured up all sorts of images of him sliding off into the canal that lines the long winding road, or having deer jump in front of him and smashing into a telephone pole, although Tom made it be known that he thought I was being a helicopter parent - hovering a little too close. I think Evan was a little relieved, so we jumped in the Blazer he's been driving, and off we went, with me playing chauffeur.

He wanted to drive on the way back, and I figured it would be good for him (though bad for me - I'm a nervous passenger on the nicest of days!). We switched places and headed back home. We had just gotten a little ways down the afore-mentioned long winding road with the wicked canal drop-off when the Blazer sputtered and died. His phone was dead, but luckily mine was not (at least not yet!). Turns out that when this particular vehicle says there's 1/4 of a tank, it lies. We called Tom's cell, which of course he didn't answer. Finally Braden answered his, got Tom out of bed, and they came to rescue us. In the meantime, Evan and I sat frozen on the side of the road - and Dang was it cold! We began making bets about which cars would stop to offer us help and which wouldn't... It's nice to know that we live in a place where people do still do that kind of thing. We were particularly tickled by a car that slowed down like it was going to pull up next to the driver's side window, but right as Evan went to open the door to tell them we had help on the way, they sped off. Guess they didn't like the looks of him! We had a pretty good laugh at that one.

Anyway, I guess I got the "quality time" with Evan that I'd been hoping for. And we're lucky we broke down when we did because my cell phone battery went completely dead too, right before the cavalry showed up with the gas can. :)

Why I love sick kids...

Last Saturday, after having two friends spend Friday night, Savannah was viciously attacked by the flu virus. Literally, one minute she was fine and the next she was all whiny and grumpy and sleepy-looking. I figured the girls had just had too much fun too late into the night, so I ran friend #2 home as #1 had already been picked up. Come the middle of the night she developed a cough, so I went in to check on her and she was BURNING up with a fever.

Sunday it was still so high, and she was so sick, I decided to run her to the instacare where she was immediately diagnosed with everyone's favorite flu. The one that I had her signed up to be vaccinated against if the CDC could ever get it together enough to get enough vaccines out there. Anyway, I digress... The doctor prescribed her some tamiflu, so we were off on our merry way. Now most people don't have nausea and vomiting with swine flu, but because she's my daughter, she did. Good times! Luckily that part only lasted the one night.

So I've been home taking care of her all week, which really hasn't been the most horrible way to spend the week, until yesterday, when I came down with the now-familiar symptoms :(

Since I have no energy to do anything but think, I've been thinking how much nicer it is to deal with kids when they are sick than when they are, oh - let's say 17-and 15-year old boys. Sick kids are warm and cuddly, perfect for snuggling up to on snowy days like today. 15 and 17 year old boys are not, even when they ARE sick.

Sick kids are quiet and polite, and argue with you over nothing. Teenagers are the exact opposite (especially that arguing over nothing thing!). Sick kids are grateful for all you do for them, even if it's just covering their feet with a blanket or giving them a drink of water. Sick kids don't want anything other than chicken noodle soup for any given meal. Teenagers want anything BUT chicken noodle soup, and after you cook some gourmet dinner, they will declare it gross because it has either onions or tomatoes in it. Sick kids understand how you're feeling and the fact that any noise higher than a whisper can make your head pound. Teenagers do not know any volume less than 500-decibels.

Savannah is recovering to the point now that she's helping to take care of me, and we can snuggle together on the couch and watch mindless hours of daytime tv (which, by the way, generally sucks) as our little inner furnaces blast away. It's not quite the way I foresaw spending a week of my life, but it could be worse.

And you thought YOU had a bad day...

Oct. 24, 2009

Last week I was going to do another "poor, pitiful me" post about how I've been sick (just a sinus infection as it turns out, not the dreaded swine flu), about how tired I am, how busy work's been, how much I really HATE shopping at Walmart, and the ordeal of dealing with their pharmacy, waahhh, waahhh, waahhh... I started to write it all up Tuesday night, but fortunately for all of you, I couldn't muster the energy to even sit down at the computer.

Then Wednesday afternoon, my hubby called me at work, which he NEVER does during the day. My guard immediately came up, because I knew whatever it was, it couldn't be good.



Him: "Hi."
Me: "Hi...? What's going on?"
Him (very upset): "I just burned a car up."
Me: "What???!!!"



So, long story short, he was out test-driving a car he was working on, when all of a sudden he heard a small "whooshing" sound and saw a little smoke from under the hood. He pulled over to investigate and went to open the hood. As soon as he pulled the latch under the hood, he heard a gigantic "WHOOSH" and jumped back as flames shot out.

He has a nasty habit of not taking his cell phone with him, because when he's working on cars it just gets in the way, so he had no way to call anyone for help. It was on a fairly busy road, but nobody would stop to help for the longest time. Finally a policeman stopped, but he didn't have an extinguisher with him but at least put in a call for the fire department. In the meantime, a passing motorist who had a small extinguisher stopped, but by that time it was too out-0f-control, and so didn't do anything other than empty his tank.



Poor Tom had to call the person whose car he was working on (who's also a friend) to let him know what had happened. Because they're friends, they tend to give each other a lot of "crap," as guys often do. So Tom's telling him what happened, and the friend thinks he's joking. As he gives more and more details, his friend finally says "This isn't funny..."



Anyway, the car is a total loss, and my poor husband had the mother of bad days. On the other hand, at least it won't be making that funny noise any more.




For more pictures of the actual fire, see the following fire department blog: http://bcfdhotspot.blogspot.com/2009/10/car-fire-hwy-89.html

Oh, to be like my mom... :)

October 10, 2009

Braden has been on a kick here lately wherein he tries to push my buttons by "acting" like a sexist pig. If I didn't know what a good-hearted kid he really is, it would probably be enough to make me run him over with my car.

A typical conversation with him goes a little something like this:


ME: Braden, I need you to...

BRADEN: Don't talk to me, WOMAN.

ME: Braden! Hush up and...

BRADEN: Are you still talking?!

ME: Grrr....


Or he'll ask me if I want to hear a funny joke.


BRADEN: Why'd the woman cross the road?

ME: Why? (Even though I should know better than to encourage him)

BRADEN: What's she doing out of the kitchen?!


He has at least a dozen of those.


Anyway, earlier today, we were going through the typical routine, and I told him that I was going to thump on him if he didn't knock it off.

He responded that I couldn't do it, even with his broken leg.

So I pulled out the big guns, invoking my mother's name:


ME: Would you say that to Grandma Kathy?

BRADEN (in a totally serious manner): Mom, I'm a smart-aleck; not stupid!!


At least he's learned where to draw the line :)

Before I Forget...

The school year is rapidly zipping along and, as was inevitable, I'm not nearly as organized as I was hoping to be.

One thing I have been able to do, however, is get myself up earlier so that I am not in such a mad dash to get to work on time. This year I have also been getting Savannah up earlier so that she can get herself ready in time to catch the school bus, something she rarely did last year as Tom usually gave her a ride on his way to work. While this was something she loved, it was not always convenient for him, so we made the decision that this year she'd be back on the bus. Because she's getting up so much earlier, she has time to kill before she heads out of the house, so she usually spends her time playing WebKinz or Facebook on the computer.

A couple of weeks ago, Tom relayed a conversation the two of them shared.

He had done his usual stagger out of bed to get ready for work. As he was heading off to the shower, he noticed Savannah playing some little game on the computer. As soon as she saw him she got a very serious look on her face and said:

"It would be a GREAT help to me if you could find my other shoe..."

Well, hello Princess, but don't you think you should shut down the games and find your own *#$& shoe?!!!

I see the teenage years looming, and it's not a pretty sight!

Needless to say, he declined to help and she ended up wearing her too-tight pair from last year. And me? I found them not 5-feet away when I got home from work.

:)