This was originally a survey posted on MySpace (don’t ask me what I was doing there… yes, fine, I have an account… sheesh. There’s nothing on my page, so don’t bother looking for it. The goods are HERE!) I have decided to turn the survey into a bona fide Meme. I’m tagging Bad Mom, because she, like me, doesn’t know how to pronounce “meme”; and my sister, Sam, because Sam hasn’t posted anything new in the last week or so. This will give her something on which to waste her precious time (give me a break, kids don’t need to eat every day!):

Summertimes Secrets?
This Summer Have You...1. Had a boyfriend or girlfriend?
I suppose I have girlfriends… but not in a way that should worry my hubby

So I’ve been fiddling with my camera settings. I’ve decided that I look decent either a) very, very close up with a bright flash, or b) very, very far away (like, down the street) with no flash.

Here’s one I dig:

Zoe and her polar bear jammies are back! She wanted to do her own video blog. So may I present:

20 Questions with Zoe

Zoe’s Preschool (and soon to be Kindergarten) has a great summer program with lots of neat camps. I signed my kids up for “Survivor Camp”, lasting all this week. Today they made s’mores (in the microwave… go figure), made a first aid bag with their names stenciled on the front, and drew a picture of what they would take along if they were stranded on a deserted island. Zoe showed me her picture as soon as she hopped in the car at pick up. Her picture showed in detail her blanket, pillow, a change of clothes, and some fire wood. Oh yeah, and there was a boat floating just off shore… which is actually the one thing you really want. Oddly, she hadn’t drawn a microwave for s’mores. I told her what a great job she did and then asked Jachin where his picture was. He immediately started giggling, which is always a bad sign. He then told me this: “Jake and I taped our pictures together to make one big picture, and it was a huge scene with battle droids attacking the palm trees and Jake drew Obi Wan Kenobi attacking the trees and we also drew a Republic drop ship and it was attacking everything. It was hilarious!” And then just when I opened my mouth to say how hilarious it sounded, he added: “Oh, and there was also an elevator at the bottom of the palm tree.” I was curious: “Where did the elevator go?” D’uh, mom: “To the top of the palm tree. The battle droids rode it up and blew up the top of the palm tree.”

And for this I paid $125 for the week. Per kid.

After Survivor Camp, we rode down to Jon’s work to have lunch and feed the resident ducks that hang out around his work complex. It was fun:

Soon, though, it was time to go:

It was very fun, though. And my children are precious.

Every once in a while, when I’m browsing the DVDs at Wal-Mart, I’ll come across one of my childhood favorites… and it’s usually in the $4.88 bin. Being compulsive, sentimental, and bad with money, I of course buy them. Every time. My kids have now come to love these movies as well. As I type this, my kids are lying on my bedroom floor watching “The Dark Crystal”. A classic. Zoe is a little scared of it, though. She closes her eyes during the part when Chamberlain has his clothes ripped from his boney puppet body, and then also the part when Augra’s planetarium/house is ravaged by the big Goliath-beetle looking guys. I have to tell her when those parts are over. I remember being scared of the same parts when I was 5 or 6. (I was also scared of the part where the little podling gets her essence sucked out by the essence-sucker-machine, and her little puppet face goes all gaunt and her eyes kind of pop out. Disturbingly, that part doesn’t seem to bother either of my kids.) I also wanted to be Kira when I was little. She was a beautiful, even if she was only a puppet.

I’m glad I have kids so I have an excuse to watch these movies all the time again. Kids make it okay to sit here and laugh and giggle and be amazed and a little scared all over again.

Visit my list blog for a list of movies from my childhood. Did we watch the same ones??

Another Saturday Latin Insult posted on an actual Saturday. I’m gettin’ good. Another shorty but goody, perfect for memorization!

“Insulsissimus Est Homo”

–”This man is the king of morons”

Catullus, poem 20

This is who you don’t  want to respond when you call 911:

Although I carry enough crap in that purse you see there to knock out a window to rescue a cat, or a houseplant, or something else very light that I could actually lift with my weak girly muscles and carry half-safely out a burning window.

A safer rescuing bet would be this:

My children, who are physically stronger than their mother. Sad.

My son’s cub scout den visited the Orem Fire Station yesterday for a VIP tour. I now know the answers to the following hilarious questions that a group of 8 year olds would find answer-worthy and inevitably ask:

* Can a fire truck drive through a car wash?

* What happens if you are driving to a fire in a fire truck and one of the guys on your fire truck gets hurt or chokes?

* What happens if there is a fire right across the street from the station? Do you drive the truck over or just walk?

* What happens when you run out of air in your air tank?

* If you get a fire call and you are in the shower, do you rinse your hair first or just leave the shampoo in and run?

* Why is this helmet all sweaty and smelly?

If you would like to know the answers to any of those questions, shoot me or my son an email… we would be happy to impart all of our new-found fire safety knowledge to you.

I didn’t mean to do it. Is it really a lie if I believe what I say is true? Because I totally believed it was true…

I had firmly believed, since 6^th grade, that I was related to the Jets (the ‘80s pop group). My mom’s brother married the aunt of a bunch of the Wolfgram siblings (aka: the Jets), back when I was in 6^th grade. So here I was, 12, and thinking that I was now kinda like royalty. Wow, I’m related to famous people! Surely they will call me any day now and ask me to play my flute in their band and go on tour with them and I will be on posters and be in Tiger Beat magazine and stuff. And maybe then Kirk Cameron will notice me… I now know that I am related to them only through marriage, which is no real relation at all. “Through marriage”–I have learned, since starting into some of my family history–is a term that means nothing, genealogically. I realize—almost 20 years later—that my mom told me that I was a bona fide relation to famous people to make me feel cool at a time when I was very uncool; what with the head gear and nappy hair and horrible complexion. The problem came when I grew up and still no one ever told me the cold, hard truth: I am only related to average people. And so I grew up to be a big fat liar butt.

Now I am a little sad. It shouldn’t bother me at 31, but somehow it does. So I will now give you a list of the “J-listers” (9 notches down from “A-listers” in Hollywood) whom I am actually related to:

• I have an uncle who sang in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for a number of years
• My biological dad was an extra in an episode of “Air Wolf” in the ‘80s
• I have an aunt who sang the national anthem at Utah Jazz home games
• My husband’s cousin was an extra in “Independence Day” (not a relation to me…so it’s still a real reach)
• My husband’s family (and therefore my children) have family ties to John Lathrop. (Don’t know who that is? Google the guy… he’s an ancestor of a plethora of notable people throughout history.)
• I was in a fashion show at a mall where Tiffany then came later in the week to do an appearance.
• I went to a New Kids on the Block concert where my friends and I screamed so loudly from the balcony at the fairgrounds that Donnie spoke to us—directly—from the stage. I’m sure he’ll vouch for me if you ask him…

I hope this list is enough to satisfy the gap in your hearts left by my big fat lie. And I apologize to the Jets, if my fake association has brought any shame to their families.

Rockin out runs in the family:

Cousins from near and far converged on Utah for July 24th (”Pioneer Day” in Utah). Every grandkid on my husband’s parents’ side is here for the week, which can mean only one thing: many hours of Guitar Hero showdowns.  The picture above is of Zoe and Keeley. There is a definite family resemblance. Zoe likes to rock out with her tongue hanging out, a la Gene Simmons. The red eyes are simply a camera effect (read: I’m a sucky photographer), but really add to the whole Girl Power attitude.

Now we come to Lily:

Lily is a wee bit smaller and therefore is not allowed to rock out with the bigger girls. She is allowed only to perform routine roadie duties; mic checks, guitar tuning, selecting “easy” mode.

I am addicted to my blog traffic stats. I check them several times a day. It’s a sickness, really. One of the things I love looking at is the Google search words that land people on my site. Here is just a sampling of things people have typed in the Google search box that landed them here:

*xxxxxl pool cover-ups

*16 year boobs (ewwww….)

* juvie records

* big mac fillet of fish

* don’t insult my intelligence in latin

* crowning baby movies (ewwwww, some more)

* squid mushroom “super mario”

* fake cuss words

* shish ka bob other meanings

* chewbacca cakes

* limericks aabba

* spankin mom

* what happens when a child runs away and calls cps  (ummm, yikes)

* drink that rhyme with suz (ummm, “booze”?) 

I want to know what the heck I’m writing about that makes some of these weirdos flock to my blog. Then again, perhaps I should look the other way and be thankful that anyone visits my blog at all…