Getting a Flat Tire Really Blows

So my hero of the day, is Rondey.  Today, I went to my bestest friend Nicole's house to make some way awesome cards for Easter for my family.  They turned out pretty cute.  Then I left, and was driving down the street when I realized I had forgotten my phone.  As it turns out, I am really glad I turned around and got it.  Nicole and I live about 45 minutes away from each other.  So on my way home, after getting on the freeway, I got a flat tire.  I was singing along to the radio and enjoying the drive, when all of a sudden, I hear something strange.  I turned off the radio, and thought, "What the heck is wrong with my car!?"  I may have sworn too.  But that's beside the point.  I pulled over to the side.  After I stopped, I could smell it.  Burning rubber.  Yep.  Flat tire.  "Who do I call?  Who do I call?  Oh, yes.  Rodney!"  Hopefully he will be in town.  He lives near where I pulled over.  My hands were shaking as I found him in my contacts list.  I didn't really understand why, but pulling over to the side of the road all by myself is not exactly relaxing.  After calling my brother (he said he would come right away), I called Mr. Jones.  He was still 30 minutes away, so what could he do?  He was making dinner, and said he wanted me to call him when I was on my way.  I was just past the 53rd South Exit heading North.  Although I had told my brother this, he got on the freeway using the 53rd South on ramp, and totally missed me.  He called me while I was jacking up the car, so I missed his call.  Called him back and explained better where I was.  He arrived soon with his own jack and had me unjack the car, changed my tire and I was back on the road in no time.  My hero.  Thanks, little brother!  People certainly did not appreciate my having to drive 55 miles an hour on my spare tire.  Screw them.  I don't enjoy driving like a Grandma.  In fact, I bet my grandma drives faster than that.  Oh, well.  I was just relieved to be home.

Yeah.  I did a number on it.  Don't drive on you tire when it's flat.

Where's My Happy Ending?

Yesterday, my friends and I had the opportunity to listen to a wonderful man.  His name is Jeffery R. Holland.  He is a leader in my church (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints).  Instead of our regular block of meetings, he came and spoke to us.  This was a rare, and wonderful experience for all of those who were able to attend.  His words were words of hope and love.  He spoke to the youth of our church and asked them to give a "tithe" of their lives.  Tithe means ten, so he was asking they give ten years of their lives to the Lord.  Specifically, the years when they are 12 to 22.  He said, no other time period in our lives are we making more decisions that will lead us towards our goal of being with our Father in Heaven again than any other time.  We decide the friends we want in our lives.  Good friends who will support us, and go along with us on the path of life.  He said, then when we are 16, we date our friends.  Later in life, we marry our friends.  There is so much truth in that statement.  Kurtis was my friend before we started dating.  That is the time period when young men and women decide if they will go on missions.  He said, "The rest of your life is yours to do what you please with."  He also told our youth, "Don't be stupid."  He actually used those words.  I loved it.  He reminded us that the Lord loves us, and that this is "the chruch of Happy Endings."  I love that phrase.  I love movies and stories that have happy endings.  Who doesn't?  I also loved the young man who spoke before him.  He reminded us all, that "If it matters to you, it matters to the Lord."  God knows what we want.  He also knows what's best for us, but he wants us to get what we want, too.  Sometimes we feel so forgotten, and small, but God loves us.  He loves everyone, no matter what we've done, or who we are.  We are his children, and he could never forget us.  His love is perfect and surpasses my comprehension.  I am far too critical of myself to even begin to understand it.  But I felt the truth in the words that man spoke to us yesterday morning.  He was worth getting up early for.  Because now, I know that I will have a happy ending - someday.

No, this wasn't taken by me. :)

It Was Late...

Last night, I went to bed and this is what I saw:

Aaaww!  Isn't my husband's new wife cute?

So This is the New Year...

I have two New Year's resolutions.  I don't usually make them.  Because I get disappointed in myself when I don't keep them.  This year, they are simple.  Well, one is.  The other will require much determination and restraint on my part.  The first is that I want to floss every day.  Everytime I go to the dentist they ask me if I floss or not.  Usually the answer is sometimes, but not very often.  I want that answer to change.  Especially since the hygenist told me I was getting gingivitis.  Not cool.  The other resolution is quite typical of most people.  I want to loose 30 pounds  by my birthday.  Maybe 31 because I will be 31.  That's seven months away, so I figure if I loose one pound a week (which is a healthy, amount of weight loss),  I will have lost 28 pounds by July.  That's a number I can be happy with.  I gained 10 pounds last year, so I am that much further away from my goal weight.  It sucks, and discourages me, but I will not be a size 16 ever again!  So the weight gain has to stop right now!  I guess I should expand my list to other areas of my life, but right now, that's pretty much all I can handle.

On a completely different note, my cell phone has died.  There was a point where I could answer it if someone called me, but then, Kurtis called me and he could hear me, but I couldn't hear him.  It was weird.  Now, the phone doesn't ring, or notify me if I get texts.  I was quite upset.  I liked my Samsung Blast, and I had only had it for two years! :(  I ordered myself a new phone and will hopefully get it before the end of the week.  They should ship it today.  Then, I will be back in communication with the world!  This is my new phone:

I hope I like it!  I've never had a touch screen before, so I may hate it for a few days while I get used to it.  I was using Mr. Jones' phone on New Year's Eve (the day my phone broke for good), and I wanted to throw it out the window. 

Dracula

I have some ranting to do.  I finished Bram Stoker's Dracula recently.  It was a really excellent book.  I enjoyed it.  I like vampire stories.  But awhile back, I watched the movie (I know.  I should have finished the book first, but I'd still be ranting this whether I did that or not).  The movie was made in 1992 and stars Gary Oldman, Anthony Hopkins, Winona Rider and Keanu Reeves.  With names like Anthony Hopkins and Gary Oldman you would expect it to rock, but I really don't care about their ridiculous acting jobs.  Keanu gave a really, really bad attempt at an English accent, but that is beside the point.  My point is this:  HOW CAN YOU CALL YOUR MOVIE BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA AND THEN NOT TELL THE STORY IN THE BOOK!?  Sorry.  But I want to scream when movie makers do this.  It really annoyed me.  The movie has nothing to do with the book. They took the characters that were in the book and made an entirely different story all together.  Lame!  If you are going to do that, you don't call it Bram Stoker's Dacula.  You call it Dracula if you  must, but put a little note at the begining that says, "Based on Brahm Stoker's Dracula" or "Inspired by".  It's just my opinion, but I feel really strongly about it.  Especially when the author isn't around anymore to do anything about it.  The book was first published in 1897.  I think Mr. Stoker rolled over in his grave when that movie was made.

This Post is Gross. Those With Weak Constitutions Should Probably Stay Away

I forgot to mention one thing in my last post.  When I got home from Bunko on Thursday (the 17th), I checked on the frogs.  One of them was not there.  I checked like 900 times.  He was gone.  I looked in the kitchen, I looked on the stairs.  I looked every where I could think of.  I told Zach about it, and he said, "Did you pray about it?"  I did.  I didn't want him to be gone, but I really pretty much got nothin.  Which to me (and Kurtis) meant he was gone.  Kurtis suggested that one of the dogs ate him.  I think he was right. 
We had a really great Christmas.  I will have to put up pictures when our laptop is no longer hating me.  The best part of Christmas (for me) was my awesome present from my parents and my grandma.  They got together and got us a dishwasher!  Holy crap, I was so not expecting that!  So cool!  Loving it!  So Saturday, my dad, mom, and brother Michael came to install it, and bring Kaleb a big boy bed.  A whole great drama story there, but I think my sister will get mad if I tell it, so I'd best not.  Not without her permission any way.  While my dad was setting up the dishwasher, my mom and I set up Kaleb's new bed.  Then Zach asked Grandma if he could move downstairs into the playroom.  We've been cleaning it out and working on getting it ready to make into a bedroom for one of the boys.  Zach got picked.  He was unhappy but then we talked him into it.  So we took out all the toys that were still in the play room and moved Zach downstairs.  When we were done taking apart the bunk beds, we pulled Riley's bed away from the wall so we could vacuum.  We were going to rearrange his furniture any way, but what do we discover?  But bright yellow dried mucusy stuff on the floor.  I was pretty sure it was dog vomit, but I really wanted it to be yellow paint.  It was so not yellow paint.  I saturated it with the pet stain remover, and let it soak.
When I came back, I started pulling little globs of rubbery type stuff out of the carpet fibers.  It was pretty nasty.  Then, the thought occurs to me:  I think I have found Climber Brown Jones.  So basically, Abbey ate him (swallowed him whole more likely), he freaked out and did his toxic secretion thingy, and Abbey went upstairs hid and puked under Riley's bed, where we found it a week and two days later.  That made me gag a little (and is making me gag, right now, too), but I had to get the stuff out of my carpet.  Seriously.  I have done some pretty gross things as a mother of three boys, but this clean up job trumps them all.  I almost puked myself.  Now, I really don't know for sure if that is what happened.  I didn't see any undigested toad body parts or anything like that, but what else could it have been!?  I've never cleaned up dog puke like that before.  Yeah.  This post was pretty gross.  Sorry.  I did warn you.

This is your typical normal firebelly toad on the left.  And on the right is what happens on rare occassions when a firebelly toad feels threatened and cannot jump away.  It's hard to see, but I couldn't make the picture any bigger.  The firebelly toad will roll onto his back, and puff out his orange tummy.  Then he secretes, a toxic milky substance.  Gross.  That would probably make you sick if it was in your stomache too.  Abbey is fine, though.  So don't worry.  Poor Climber.  I will miss him. 

We got Riley a new toad that weekend.  He's named Mr. Fast.  Because when the pet store worker was trying to get him out, he kept jumping all over the place, and the guy said, "He's fast."  Riley tried to pick another brown one that was climbing up the tank.  Kurtis told me before we went in, "No more climbers this time, okay?"  Riley wanted him because he was a different color than his brothers' and he would be able to tell them apart.  I told him that wouldn't be a problem because all their spots are different.  Mr. Fast is also smaller than the other firebelly toads, so we don't have any trouble telling them apart.  But it was funny because when I put Mr. Fast in the tank, he started climbing up the wall.  I think I've fixed it so they won't get out again.  I also haven't really seen them trying to climb the walls since.

Loss

Sometimes, I find I really don't function very well.  Thursday was one of those days.  It all started Saturday evening when I got a message that went something like this, "Uh, Melissa?  This is Dad, Connie passed away today, so if you haven't sent Michele's Christmas present yet, you don't have to.  Michele will be coming soon."
My immediate response was, "What!?", and I got on the phone and called my sister.  Her mother-in-law passed away unexpectedly December 12, 2009.  She was 61.  Thursday was her funeral.  Most people would think an event like this would have little effect on me.  Well, she was my friend too.  I think I am finally ready to talk about this without falling apart, but I could be wrong.  We shall see.
My sister is married to Brian, who is the brother of my high school friend, Spencer.  Michele, Ryan, and I were all friends with him.  Michele and her family live in Minnesota now, so whenever they would come visit, I had to share her with her in-laws.  I honestly did not like this.  But you know, they wanted to see them too, so we would just all do things together.  It always turned out to be a lot of fun.  Connie loved to have fun, and never seemed to mind us tagging a long.  Our last trip with them was when Michele came for Zach's baptism.  We all went to Antelope Island.  It was a nice trip.  I didn't get to do much with them after that day, though because the weather forcast said it would rain.  Which meant my husband would take our car to work instead of riding his motorcycle.
I've gone off track.  I was talking about something else.  I suppose I am avoiding the topic subconciously.  Connie had a hernia operation.  Just your normal, typical everyday, out-patient surgery.  Then a day (or two?) later, she collapsed in her chair.  Her husband called 9-1-1, and started CPR.  She was taken to the hospital.  They life-flighted her to another hospital where they induced a coma.  As they tried to bring her out of the coma, she was unresponsive, and the family had a huge decision to make.  A decision I cannot even fathom having to make.  Saturday evening, they took her off the machines.  My sister told me they felt she had already left them.  The tests done showed she had a blood clot in her lung, and that it was a result of her surgery. 
Thursday afternoon was her funeral.  They burried her in a baby blue casket.  I heard her mother say it was the color of her car.  She loved cars.  She loved music.  She loved to travel, and she loved Christmas.  She will be missed dearly.  I never thought I would live in a world with out her.  I took for granted that she would always be there when Michele came to visit.  She had really great stories to tell.  She was a very calm person.  She always knew what to say to make you feel better about yourself, but if you needed a kick in the pants, she would gently give you one.  Nothing hurtful, but enough to let you know you were heading in a direction you shouldn't go.  She cared about others.  She loved her children and her grandchildren.
The funeral was beautiful and the prayer dedicating her grave (given by her husband) was so loving and heartfelt.  I walked away feeling numb, and know she is with our Father in Heaven.  But it doesn't make the aching stop all the way.  There is another hole in my heart, and I am starting to wonder how many more there will be before my life is over. 
After the funeral, I was putting my things in the trunk of my car, and I shut my keys in the trunk.  Again.  We had to call a locksmith.  This is why I say sometimes I just can't function very well.  It made me late for bunko.  I hate being late.  I tried to see if some one could sub for me, but they wanted me to come.  I'm sure I looked awful because the tears still hadn't really stopped.  But we had a pretty good time anyway.  It was nice to think about something else for a bit. 
The truth is, when someone you love dies, you never really get over it.  Life goes on, and the pain goes away.  But one day, when you least expect it, you realize the person you love isn't there, and a new ache begins all over again.  It's easier to push it down, and go on with life, but you wish they were still with you.  That never goes away.  But in a way, I wouldn't want it to.  I don't want to forget Connie or my grandpa.  I love them.  I know I will see them again.

Connie and Henry on Antelope Island.  June 6, 2009

"I couldn't have asked for a better mother," her daughter, Melissa, said.