FAME (I'm gonna live forever)!

I got my first job when I was 14. My dad actually got it for me. He knew this woman named Dee...I'm pretty sure she was a man, though. Dee owned Juanita One Hour Martinizing (that's waNEEEda for those not from the home land). My dad got my sister a job there first. She liked it and co-worked with someone who got phone call asking them if they could get semen out of a wedding a dress and she said, "Hold on, I will ask my boss, she knows a lot about fishing." My sister is really smart. She was appalled by this! I'm pretty sure she found employment elsewhere not too long after this incident.

I started my job the first day of 9th grade. I wore purple totally cool shoes. Dee also had a tanning bed and an electrolysis studio in the back of her dry cleaner. We could totally use the tanning bed anytime we wanted...That rocked! I would come to work straight from school and Dee would leave as soon as I got there. I would walk over to the gas station and get some jo-jo's and go to work bagging the clothes (if you had grease on your silk blouse from my jo-jo...sorry).

There was this attorney who would bring his clothes in. He was sooooo waaaayyyy cute! (And totally in my league, hellooooo, who doesn't want a chubby 14 year old girlfriend who works at a dry cleaner when you are a young aspiring attorney!) He would bring his clothes through the drive through in his silver Mercedes and I would swoon! Oh! his clothes even smelled cool. All expensive Cologne-y and tobacco-y smell...I would put them up to my face and sniff and sniff and sniff. Then I would go about my job and remove all those weird little amber glass vials with the white powder residue from his pockets. (So weird, because he must have some mysterious illness and have to mix his own herbs to get better, he does sniff and wipe his nose all the time!...hellooooo, so IN my league, because I totally believe in natural healing too!!) My boss said they were for cocaine, but he was an attorney and would never break the law. This was my future husband we were talking about!!!

When Dee would leave, I would turn on the radio to the local soft rock station (KOSY). What? It's all we were allowed to listen to at work (thus began my love of soft rock...blog about that later). Anyhoooo...I happen to know all the words to fame..it was very popular on the soft rock circuit in 87.

I was bagging clothes on rainy day. It was so slow at the dry cleaners and I had the soft rock music pumping! Suddenly, FAME comes on the radio..you can't help but sing! If you're me, you cant help but make up a Broadway production. So I'm in the back of the dry cleaners, dancing with a clothing bag...yes...there could've been some jogging in place...and singing at the TOP of my lungs. Although we had a buzzer (I assumed Dee liked to do the same thing on a slow day) I was singing just a little too loud and didn't hear it. I finished my performance (slightly sweaty and WAY out of breath) when to my surprise I heard clapping! (What the ???) So I go to the front of the store and there was MY attorney, My future husband, clapping and.....*gulp* LAUGHING!

I quickly regained composure, making sure to mess up my totally rad short on one side, long on the other hair cut...I got him his clothes with a blush on my face (and not just from dancing, either!). As he walked out the door with a "Thanks for the show!" I suddenly decided his clothes stunk, and his luscious curly hair WAS totally out, and his nose wasn't THAT cute and those WERE cocaine vials in his pockets, and I hoped his credit card got denied everywhere he went.

Ahhh, Memories...(break into song and dance) Misty water colored Meeemmmooorieeeeeeessss...of the way we were.....

Children's Hospitals

My cute cousin is getting married. Cute? More like adorable! Fantastic! Gorgeous!...Anyhooo...she is getting married. My cousins are all beautiful souls. And just as beautiful on the outside.

In leau of gifts for her wedding she is requesting that her guests donate money to the Venice Children's Hospital. When I saw this I had to weep.

*WARNING SERIOUS CONTENT*

My oldest son was born with a congenital heart condition (have your babies checked!!). We didn't find this out until he was 4 years old. The Doctors at Primary Children's Medical Center have been so good to us...to instruct us, to guide us, and to help us know where to go. They have even been so good as to revive Mr. Wonderful from fainting! We spend a great deal of time up there and feel grateful to be so close to such a wonderful facility.

The thing that solidified my love for children's hospitals is that when Shorty was born, he needed to be life flighted to PCMC. I (having just given birth 20 min. before) was unable to attend my very precious cargo on that long journey. The life flight crew got my little bug all ready and brought him to me before they left for SLC. They opened his little incubator and let me give him a few final kisses that would have to tide him (and me) over for a while, until I could get to him in a week or so.

He was life flighted and the best Dr. in the world fixed up my baby! He was careful and steady and diligent. The nurses immediately started taking pictures of him once he was in recovery in the NICU. They would send me those pics. through hospital mail everyday...I seriously slept with one under my pillow in that lonely hospital room (I hope no one ever has to know the loneliness a mother feels when she can't hold her baby...ugh, tummy hurting thinking of a week...let alone a lifetime...boohooo). The nurses would call me whenever he woke up. They were never grouchy when I would call in the middle of the night and ask that they hold the phone to his chubby little cheek while I would sing "I am a Child of God" at 2 a.m. They would tell me how much breast milk he had and encourage me by saying, "You make solid cream!", "It's liquid gold!".

The thing that makes me love these places of turmoil and solace, however, is one experience in particular. The day I brought my little one home from his too long stay at the hospital, he wriggled, and jiggled just a little too much. He tore out all of his stitches...inside and out. I panicked! I threw him in the car and made the drive up to SLC. When we got there and the Dr. looked at the wide gaping wound...they said they couldn't do anything. His little new baby skin was too delicate to stitch up again and he would have to heal on his own. I was so scarred. My heart was beating so fast. They told me they could keep him or I could take him home. I cried, and cried, and cried...I couldn't possibly take care of him with two other Little's running around. I would have to leave him there. Then one of the Dr's. working on him pulled me aside and said, "Of course you can do this! There isn't anyone better suited to do it! You are his mother."

I knew then and there that I could do it...not just that I could, but that I would. I would do this and learn and grow along with him.

For the next 12 months I took care of him at home (well, I still take care of him...its just not as intense medical that I was doing before!). The nurses would call frequently, we would see the Dr. 1-3 times a week and a Home Health care nurse came to check on the baby once a week. For a whole year! We were never billed for this, but I know these angels were being paid. Because people are generous enough to donate to these organizations we were able to be together as a family and I was able to take care of my little bug. Because of people who have dedicated their lives to saving my babies lives, I have been blessed, my family has been blessed and we have learned how to survive!

Thank you, dear cousin, who would rather save lives than flip an omelet with an $80 spatula!

Factory Workers

Factory work is hard. It is intense. The hours are agonizing and the compensation really isnt't that good (in fact, I had to PAY!!). The conditions are difficult to say the least. Ask me I know all about it! I HAD to go to the Cheesecake Factory today. It was arduous and hard. I had such a hard time choking down my gigantic salad (had to have the salad so I could get the cheesecake...duh!) and slurping down my soup. The bread was a too light and fluffy and flavorful (I had to smear it with butter...Oh the Humanity!!) The 30th Anniversary cheesecake was palatable, I pretty much had to force it down (because I was sooo freaking full, but don't worry...I got it all down!)



The only thing that made it remotely bearable were my co-workers. The Misses' Regans made my work day alot easier! Hopefully, I will have a less grueling day tomorrow.

It's a Great State Fair!

Do you buy corndogs? I do. !! If you know me you know I prefer to home make all of my own deliciousness. I love food! I find great satisfaction in my family asking for seconds...weight issues anyone? I digress...The littles love the dogs. Whenever I ask what they would like for dinner the answer is inevitably, "Corndogs!". The problem with this is, I don't have a lot of room in the freezer (did I mention my love for delicious food?). The corndog box is HUGE and bulky. It takes up valuable real estate that could be used for something like brownies, or ice cream, or cake, or rolls, or cookies, or..oooops! I digressed again...Since I need the space in my freezer for other imperative items (as stated above) I will ditch the corndog box and zip the dogs in a giant ziploc and try to find space for them sans box.

Anyhooooo...Today whilst shopping at the local co-op (I really want to sound hip and fancy that I am shopping at the co-op, but it was really Wal-Mart) I purchased corndogs for the littles. (I wanted to make them happy), but in return it was me who was happy!!! Joy of joys! The corndogs are now individually wrapped! This may seem trivial to skinny non-eaters of the good stuff...but to me, this was a GIFT! Now I have room for the goodness AND the dogs!! (Lo, were it the real dogs....)

Thank You Blog Gurus!

You're the best!! Maybe now you can leave comments a little easier!

Oh My Heck!!

Oh my heck!! I am sooo excited!! I think I have an actual blog follower!! Well, Kelly was my first...eek...that doesnt sound right...I mean sure, we slow danced a couple times, and we did put oreos (back when the mint ones first came out) all over Rachael Barnes car and wrote REDRUM on it, and I still remember how cold the seats in Kelly's Mom's tan station wagon were..ewww...not sounding good there either....Anyhoooo!!!

An actual blog follower..I dont know who you are Rantin'Rag...but I hope you are a total stranger who reads these posts and gets just a small kick from them. If you are someone I know..don't tell me...no, wait..DO...yes...DO! I must know at once who you are!! I love that you follow me!! Que organ music: I am a shepherd and you are my sheep...sure I only have 2..but hey...I'm kidding..I'm just giddy with the idea that people are following my blog!! I'm so excited...maybe after all these years I will be popular!

Biggest Hugs in the world to those who read my ramblings!!!

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

If you think watching a man run around in a red satin speedo, fishnets and stillettos is scary (let's not do the time warp again!), just wait until you see my friend Steph's yard!

Everyday when I drive by and see her poor husband out there, working and slaving and breaking his back to move these rocks I think, "Geeze! Poor Mr. Pond, We should really help them with their yard!" Then I regain consciousness and think..."Ummm, I dont really want to ruin my nails, and my back is really sore today, and hmmm, whats for dinner, did you see that bird?" and then...it's gone. Gone.

This is not your typical yard. Mr. Wonderful (who I believe is an expert at everything) even says he has never seen anything like it. We wonder if there is even dirt on the lot , or just smaller rocks cementing in the bigger rocks. Mr. Pond usually has at least 2 of his littles outside "helping" him. Steph is always close by to offer him a cool drink of lemonade or some much needed moral support...When I was little and we had to do stuff around the house, the first one to "have to go the bathroom" stayed in the bathroom until the work was done. I believe that, like me, she has to go to the bathroom alot. I mean ALOT (me, not necessarily her)...so, sometimes you just need to stay inside in the air conditioning, just in case..you know.

The thing is that these rocks are not merely rocks...like the rocks that Shorty brings me home every single day and I forget to check the laundry pockets and they get washed and help my washing get extra clean...these are boulders. Like major rocks!

When we bought our house they had to blast out a boulder the size of a VW Bug so that we can have the luxery of natural gas. I think Steph and Mr. Pond had to blast out a boulder the size of Kentucky (if not...it sure looks like it). They had to have a commercial trencher come in and trench and all that kind of stuff...I dont really know what that means because I had to go to the bathroom soooo much that Mr. Wonderful just hired someone to do our yard...he is smart enough not to have any delusions...he knows all about me.

The thing is...I really wish I could help...but I just don't really want to. I have to go to the bathroom!

Bagoingk!

You know that sound? The one used in sword fighting movies when the sword is hurtling through the air and then it stabs into the wooden beam and shakes a little. "Bagggoooooiingk!" It usually has a wonderful whistling undertone. Then a really loud clean noise of it sticking into the wood. (Note to Kelly: I think we first heard this noise in Willow!)

This is not a sound you want to hear when mowing the lawn. This is not a sound you SHOULD hear when mowing the lawn.

In the dog days of summer the littles run around in next to nothing. They smell of sunblock and popsicles. They swim from morning to evening while I laze around on the couch. They bring out anything and everything they can find to play all sorts of imaginary games. Pillows, stuffed animals, poker chips (why for the love of the american flag do we have poker chips? Oh yea, strip poker! I jest!), forks, knives, spoons...you name it. They take out all of this junk play with it in the pool or the playhouse and then return most of it into the house. (After I yell and scream and threaten them within an inch of their lives).

Lovey is eight. She is smarter than me or Mr. Wonderful...sometimes even combined. She loves to use her imagination. She invents elaborate games and needs many props, which she, in turn, forgets to put away (because she is like the absent minded professer). This is all tying together...I swear!

Well, Mr. Wonderful was being the dutiful husband and father and mowing the yard. He prefers to keep on the lawns on a very regular basis. After one particualarily long week for the littles, he was mowing. Everything was being sucked up out of the grass and into the blades...and being spit out into Mr. Wonderful. He said the Poker Chips were the worst.

I stay inside laying on the couch, watching "Keeping up with the Kardashians" ( oh that Khloe) and eating bons bons. I occasionally mute the T.V. to make sure Mr. Wonderful isnt having an Uncle John moment (laying under the lawn mower, looking for his toes). On this particular day and moment, I chose to mute the TV right when I heard the mower whine a bit and then...the dreaded "Bagoooiiiiinngggk!" noise. This requires some looking into!

When I asked Mr. Wonderful what the commotion was, he politely steered my attention in the direction of the giant swingset/playouse thing. There glistening in the sunlight on the ground was a fork. A shiny pfaltsgraph fork. I had a look of confusion on my face and went to queary Mr. Wonderful further. Apparently the mower had sucked up, spit out and hurled the fork straight for Mr. Wonderful's HEAD! No wonder he looked a little green. Thank Uncle John's Toes that the fork missed his head and stuck into the wooden playset and then fell to the ground.

Baaaagggggooiiinnnggk!

Midnight Ramblings

I am Hungry. Starving. Ready to eat. I hate dieting, yet I am ALWAYS on one. Why did I drink diet coke so late at night. Oh dear, I spilled the beans, that not even my closest of close friends know. I'm a junkie. I'm not proud of it. I drink the Nectar of the Gods! I'm ashamed. I'm so UTAH! When people say, "You don't like diet coke?" I can honestly say, "No, not really." Because I love it!!!!! Only Mr. Wonderful knows how I love it. I would venture to say that if we have ever gone out you, you would never have seen me drink a Diet Coke. I'm a closet addict. Everyone knows about the Peanut Butter Cups, and the bags upon bags of Chocolate Chips....but now this? I'm sorry. I prefer a cocktail of Diet Dr. Pepper, Diet Coke, and...well..Water. I hate the bubbles of fizzy drinks. The water really makes it go flat fast...and then...well, HEAVEN! If you are disappointed in me, all I have to say for myself is..."Try it! You just might like it!"

Went to Greg's grave yesterday. I was driving by and thought, "Hey, I don't have to be home, no one needs to go potty, or needs me to wipe their bums, I still have plenty of time to get home before the kids do". It was awesome..I've never been without someone else. Mom was worried about the cemetary, because it isn't so lovely. All I can say is....LOVELY! It was so peaceful and beautiful, the breeze was blowing, the sun was shinning, his little flag was waving. I sat down beside him and told him all the latest gossip and laughed at how he's "famous" now. He is a Hero. No one has to look for his grave...Everyone just knows right where it is. Colton inspired me today because we had been talking about when Greg and I were little. I told him all about the Lake Powell Trip. Good Times...

I found this shopping list. Interesting...

Wish I could sleep. Wish Mr. Wonderful would wake up and sing to me and not forget the diamond ring this time. Wish I didn't love the juice as much as I do.

The Murderous Villians

We have two dogs. Frankie (Franklin, Franks) and Ellie (Ells). Now, these two dogs are somewhat special. They were rescued from no kill shelters. This must be qualified here so that you may come to appreciate it later. Frankie had never been with a family before Mr. Wonderful adopted him. He is the most comfy lovey dog ever. Ellie had been adopted three previous times (and returned all three previous times) until Mr. Wonderful (a.k.a. Sucker) took her home.

Now...I have many complaints regarding the hairy beasts. Fur, bed peeing, butt licking, crotch sniffing, barking, barfing, pooing, eating of poo, etc...but it is now official...they are naughty dogs!

Bubby and his friend were playing out in the back yard and come in and tell Mr. Wonderful that they have found a dead rabbit. Mr. Wonderful whispers, "Don't tell Mom...let's us just handle this." Of course...Mrs. Cravits (ME) knows when someone is sneaking...so I follow...

There wasn't a dead rabbit. paaaaaahhhllllease!!! It was a DEAD CAT! The murderous villians have now committed every sin in the bible (including incest!) There laying in the gravel by the a/c was the soft sweet dead body of a little cat!!! They ate a CAT! Mr. Wonderful still contends they just loved it to death. "We're gonna need dental records" I say. Mr. Wonderful says he will take care of it, but if you know Mr. Wonderful, you know a couple things about him: A: Fainter (although a VERY masculine fainter, honey) and B: Animal Lover...I decided to put us both out of our misery (Mine? You ask? Would you want doggies walking all over your house with cat guts on their paws?) Anyhoooooo...Enter Minky: CSI Agent Extrodinaire (Fashion, of course, makes me extrodinary).

I don my green disposable latex-free hair color gloves (thank heavens I do hair!!) and proceed to try not to contaminate the crime scene. First we are gonna need a shovel..hmmm...all I can find is the dog poo shovel...welllll...what would you have done?

Next...Body Bag...hmmmmm...Grocery bag? Too bad I decided to go green and didn't want to use one of my 1$ reusable bags (not as reusable as one would think)...oh well...lawn and leaf bag. Now the tricky part...Did I mention it was 450 degrees? I need some serious nose plugs...darn! I just threw out my synchro nose plugs from 1986...tampons? No...perhaps you didnt read the fashionista part of extrodinary above..hmmmm..I know! Thank heavens Bubby had a cardiologist appt. the week before and I still had his face mask that he had decorated at PCMC...Phewf! Now I am looking extra professional.

Disposal posed another problem. This wasnt like when Tubby, the divorce dog, died and my neighbor put him a garbage bag and in the garbage because the truck was coming the next day...this was Monday...Garbage day isnt until Friday...Hmmm, dang...hmmm...Oh well...into the garbage. Mr. Wonderful had the major creeps all week long...."You don't have to leave for work at 5 in the morning in a scary dark garage with a dead cat in the garbage!" I tried to convince him that it wasn't going to jump out and attack him, but I wasn't wholly convinced either!

The crime scene gets cleaned up and traffic (the dogs and children) are allowed to go back to normal. Too bad I will be haunted with this all too vivid memory. Maybe I will go to school to be a Crime Scene Investigator. I'm pretty good (See the above crime scene photo, thanks Mr.Wonderful!!). I caught two of the sneakiest murderous villians known and MAYBE, just maybe, I will be able to cover up a certain double murder!

An Ode to Recovery

5 years ago the Devil himself reared his ugly head and reached his disgusting dirty fingernailed hand through the gates of Hell and decided to lamblast our family. Well, little did he know (or us, for that matter) we are SURVIVORS! He thought he could try our testimonies by tearing families apart, he thought he could break up other families with drugs and alcohol, he thought he could watch us eat each other alive with back biting and fear. We showed him...well, kinda...he had us shaking in our boots more than once.

So for my sister, my friend, who has fought a very private painful battle, I would like to congratulate you, VERY PUBLICLY and tell you...I am proud of you.

Congratulations on 2 years of being Drug and Alcohol Free and reaching for your goals!!

Two Picnics and a Funeral

What a weekend! We won a football game (GO RIVERTON!), Mr. X did a great job holding those sign things that say what down you are on, we shopped for guitars, purchased two new fish, Swimmer and Big Mouth, went to a picnic in Provo (So fun to see Aunt Jaqueline and Uncle Glen), had a sleepover, had funeral because Swimmer was suddenly Floater, went on a Sunday drive in the hills...With me yelling, "Dont scratch my baby!!! Watch the Rover!" Found a dead racoon, took some pics, found Andrea a place to live when she moves here (ahhh...dreams!), went to church, went to yet another picnic with Mr. Wonderful's family, came home and crashed. ahhhh! Well, I ate Chocolate cake...

When I couldn't sleep in the middle of the night Mr. Wonderful sang me a lullabye (*SIGH*) about a mockingbird...couldn't help but wish he made it to the diamond ring part before he fell back asleep...