Weekly Report

I feel sad and empty when I can't blog. My kids are outside the door screaming and playing with knives right now, but I really need to do this.

We have had a crazy week, mostly because I have a hard time saying no. Ali turned 8 and had a few parties to celebrate. The thing she wanted most of all was to see her best friend who lives a whopping 7 hours away. I worked it out so that it would be favorable for me and we had a great weekend. I keep thinking the two of them will start to forget about each other, but it's not looking good. Ali will give up best cousins, school friends that she hasn't seen in months, even cash just to see Hailey.



We got another party with family on Sunday and we went to the wave pool with her best school friend on Monday. Just when I think it's over, her best cousin gets to come stay this week. Her life is bliss.


While all of this was happening, I got to shop and have lunch and let a weird Philippine guy rub my legs. I had an awesome pedicure thanks to Shauntel and shopped for new jeans with the two hot blondes. It always amazes me when I shop with Deb and Kamie. Without fail they have made friends with random people in EVERY store. Sales people are always slobbering over them - they must have that "I'm married to a doctor" look. I, on the other hand, am called ma'am a lot and am given sympathetic looks.

I HATE trying on clothes, which explains the closet full of them with tags still attached, and I expect the sales people to know this and respect it. So you must know how much I hate the Buckle - it's like Mr. Mac for sexy people. Unfortunately they actually carry xx-long jeans, so I am FORCED to enter from time to time. This experience is TOTALLY different when you are with cute people. The sales guy looked at me and must have lost his sense for a minute. He started handing me jeans and started me a room before I could look away from his mohawk mullet and red sneakers. I was mesmerized by him. I laughed when he started bringing me more and more jeans in HILARIOUS sizes. I sat alone in my dressing room, wondering if I should tell him that I am fat and don't wear a size 27. Of course he knew, but the two of us were playing some kind of mind game and I wasn't going to lose. I would have walked out of there with a tiny pair of jeans just to win. Just to throw me, he handed me a pair that actually fit over my calves, and I bought them. I somehow feel like I lost.



I'm not sure how this turned into a story about my new bedazzled jeans that look ridiculous on me, but it is my blog after all. I guess I should also mention a few other of my top stories of the week . . . . There is a toilet on my front porch that traveled all the way from Rexburg. . . I got to spend time with some new friends who I impressed with my really clean house and excellent hair . . . hugged people without cringing . . . laughed and cried . . .GOT MY GARGOYLE BACK . . . and finally, my favorite moment of the week.







At 1 am this mornig there was a loud knock at my front door. I hid my head under the covers and waited to hear a gunshot followed by Erik's blood curdling scream, but instead heard Josh come inside and go back to bed. He had gone out the basement door and wandered around for a while before waking up and knocking on the door. I will NEVER sleep without medication again.