Category Archives: Goofs

Dare I compile all my mishaps into one category? Well, if you want laughs, and lots of them, here you go.

Something to Laugh Over

I was going to post this last night, but it was late and my husband was threatening to unplug my computer if I didn’t come to bed 🙂 so I decided to leave it until morning. Maybe that was a good thing.

Last night I had a horrendous nightmare – the gist was that James got a plastic bag unto his head somehow, quit breathing, turned blue and I had to give him CPR. I awoke gasping and spent a good portion of the night watching him breath and trying to calm down enough to catch some more shut eye.

So, after horrific nightmare, I need something funny to write to help chase away the shadows, and last night gives me the perfect oportunity.

A good friend of mine has Lupus (among other things – she’s going to die laughing if she reads this). And, no, that isn’t the funny part – be patient it is coming. Anyway, she called me yesterday to let me know that her Lupus is out of remission. I don’t know much about lupus so I asked her to give it to me straight. She explained about how it attacks the immune system and makes her allergic to the sun, and so on and so forth. The conversation continued similar to this,

Me: No more cruises for you kid.
Her: No. —- (a mutual friend of ours) called me a vampire this morning.
Me: I always thought there was something odd about you – I just never noticed the fangs.

so we continued to joke back and forth about vampirism. She needed Paul to come over to assist her Husband in giving her a blessing. So all was set and I hopped off the phone. Once I got off Paul asked me about Lupus, because he knew about as much as I did, and I proceeded to tell him. Then he got worried because he has had a bit of a cold lately and didn’t want to get her sick. So he asked me to call back and give her a heads up.

I pick up the phone, dial, and wait while it rings. As I listen to the phone ring Paul pipes up,

“Just mention to her that we were talking more about Lupin,”

I cut him off with a burst of laughter.

My friend answered the phone to my insane laughter, all while Paul looked at me if I were crazy.

Then he realized what he had said and started laughing, which made me laugh even harder – all while my friend was on the other end of the line, “What’s going on nutty?”

I tried to tell her through my laughter and tears but she couldn’t understand a word of it. Finally I managed to get out, “Paul thinks you’re a werewolf!”

“A what?”

“A Werewolf, he said you had Lupin!”

Her laughter joined ours, and I was at the point of my tummy hurting I was laughing so hard.

“You’re a vampire werewolf!”

“How does that work?”

“Well, usually you just suck blood, but on the full moon you turn into a werewolf AND suck blood.” I had tears pooring down my face at this point. Then I glanced at the calendar. “And, it is a full moon!”

One of the three of us did a werewolf howl, which sent the giggles going again. So, I did the only thing a respectable friend to someone with a serious illness would do. I wrote the corniest Vampire Werewolf poem I could think of inside of a gorgeous sunny beach scene card and took it to her. To which she told me, “Well, at least you took the news well.”

Which set us off laughing once again. 😀

And I thought Washington had the corner on Vampires and Werewolfs (Twilight) So, should anyone come this way for a visit, I cannot gaurantee your safety – especially should you come during a full moon.

Arrrroooooooooooooo

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Olympics

Apparantly things in my house are training for the summer olympics.

I first noticed this a couple weeks ago when I was doing the laundery. As I reached for the bleach the bottom of the container hit the top edge of the laundery soap box. Apparantly the laundery soap box has been training for the high dive. The arc was beautiful – for artistry I gave it a 8.9 but the landing was rather messy, so for technical merit I only gave it a 6.5. Two bad things can’t dive in feet first rather than head first – I suppose that would just be jumping though. (I am still cleaning up laundery soap)

The next event I witnessed was gymnastics, specifically the vault. The can of dry soup mix that I was using for dinner one night vaulted out of my hands, did three full turns in the air and came down with a thump. It didn’t stick its landing though, so only gained an 8.5 – it also spilled it’s guts every where which wasn’t very pretty.

Jacob participates regularly in track and field trying to out run me. He is quite accomplished in shotput and discus throwing – thank goodness we haven’t moved to the lance yet. But fencing is a dangerous one for him. Is there olympic potty training? We are still working on that one….

Out front we have regular training for cycling as three girls have races up and down the front sidewalk.

James is training for the long jump of spit up – he’s doing quite well, I’m sure he holds some kind of record.

As for me, well I’m training for the triathalon or decathalon thing – I think most moms would be rather fierce competitors with all the day to day training we get. 😉 Most of us end up being track stars, great catchers, cyclists, gymnasts, and swimmers of some sort. Especially the track – any mom with a toddler (especially with a toddler boy) has to be great at track!

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Filed under Every Day Life, Goofs, Humor, Jacob, James

One Glorious Shining Moment and Then This…

(In case you were wondering my glorious shining moment was two posts ago, now on with the this…)

The kids were finally all in bed, all that is except James of course – I was sitting in my chair working on getting him to sleep.  He had just barely closed his eyes and appeared to be heading off to slumber land.  Paul brought me in a delectable root bear float.  He had even been so kind as to stick a straw in it.

The straw didn’t help much.  As I tilted the cup slightly towards me, my lips reached out searching for that conduit to foaming utopia.  Suddenly I felt a cool sensation on my chest and down my right side.  I looked down and saw rootbeer cascading down my front.  Then I rembered the laws of nature involving mountains and valleys – when dropped on the peak water won’t only run off on one side – so into the valley, where James’ sweet barely slumbering head was resting, the river ran.

Ummm…yeah, it woke him up with a start, that icey, stickiness.  He woke up even further as Paul had to wash all the stickies off.

 I wish I could claim some proven theories about rootbeer being good for a baby’s complexion, but I don’t think there are any.

And I will forever be known and teased (by my loving hubby of course) as the mother who gave her child a rootbeer bath – that just sounds cruel. 🙂

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Filed under Goofs, Humor, James, Parenting

P is for Pregnant Moment

Encyclopedia of Me Meme

I’ve had a lot of them.  And apparently they only get worse and more frequent with each pregnancy.  One such moment happened last Wednesday.

A good friend of ours had been going through a lot. Having their suburban stolen while on vacation was one of these – not to mention the fact that she is expecting too, in fact we have the same due date. 🙂 In a small effort I offered to take them dinner, or at the very least have them come play and eat dinner at our house.  It was decided that the latter would be best as it would alleviate some of the stress in general to have some fun conversation and let the kids hang out with friends, etc.

I had decided on ground beef stroganoff for dinner as it is easy, inexpensive, feeds a lot of people, and best of all, yummy.  The kids were terrors that day – fighting, squabbling, complaining at every moment when I asked for some help.  I was in the middle of cooking dinner when I realized that Jacob wasn’t around.

“I’d better see what he is up to,” I muttered as I flipped the burner down to medium and set off in search of the rascally two year old.  The aroma of dirty, stinky diaper punched me in the nose as I walked into his bedroom.  I first saw his little bare bottom facing me as he crawled along his bed before the horror hit me.  He hadn’t bothered to let me know he was stinky but decided to take care of it himself.  I dodged little diaper presents on the floor as I made my way to the corner where the discarded object lay.  That in itself was a feat as the diaper presents tended to blend in with the carpet.  I swatted that little bare bottom and had him clean up all the blankets and things that could be possibly dirty, tossing them all into the hamper. Then I scrubbed the floor.

I ran out to the kitchen, stirred the food. “I’ll do a quick bath for him, the food will be fine.”

Had I been lucid I would have remembered that toddlers and quick baths don’t exist. Had I been lucid I would have realized that I had already been cooking the food for quite some time BEFORE the whole diaper incident. Had I been lucid I would have realized that it had already stuck just a bit when I had stopped to stir it just then.

BUT, when you are pregnant, you are NOT lucid. *SIGH*

I gave Jacob a bath, got him all clean, reinspected the bedroom and went back out to the kitchen, fully expecting to find everything in fine order.

It wasn’t.  The stroganoff was scorched to the bottom of the pan and I had a family of 7 descending upon us in 30 minutes – and my oven was STILL NOT FIXED.  I tested the the food – just in case it wasn’t too noticeable.  It was terrible.

So, I did the only the a respectable pregnant lady would do. I called my husband and burst into tears.

His first comment was to get pizza (we all know how the last pizza saga worked out) and then he remembered that he hadn’t had a chance to fix the oven yet. (The new element was purchase, but the wire it connected to was black, signifying a loose connection and he needed to fix that in order to hook up the new element).  He, being the brilliant husband that he is, suggested getting the pizzas (it was way to expensive to order enough pizzas to feed 13 people from a place like Domino’s or something) and cooking them at our friend’s house who lives right behind us.

So, I called my friends, still partly panicked and dashing tears away. She readily agreed to lend me her oven. She lent her 12 year old son to sit in the car with the kids while I ran into the store to get the pizzas. Then she was kind enough to cook the pizzas and bring them too us.

Thank goodness for good friends and husbands who help us out of these pregnant moments. 🙂

P.S. My wonderful HHH was able to fix my oven on Saturday and after a week and a half of no oven I am very excited to say that it works beautifully and I can’t wait to bake brownies. 🙂

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Filed under Goofs, Humor, Jacob, Parenting

F is for Feast

Encyclopedia of Me Meme 

 Paul’s mom is an awesome cook – and she cooks a lot.  Practically everyday of our visit in Montana we were greeted with a grand feast – and it was all so yummy!

One of our last nights there we were gathered at the table – our family, Paul’s parents, and Paul’s older sister, Lisa.  A delicious chicken and rice salad was served among many other yummy dishes.  After my first helping I was still yearning for more.  There was quite the entertaing conversation going on and I was enthralled in it as I dished my salad.

“Wow, J, you must be really hungry,” Paul commented rather slyly.

“Huh?” I asked as I snapped out of the conversation.  I noticed he was looking rather pointedly at my plate. 

“What’s wrong with dishing a little salad,” I grumbled to myself as I looked down.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head, “Oh my!” I exclaimed.  As I had been so intent on the conversation, I was not paying attention to what my hands were doing. Apparantly they had gone on automatic pilate and proceeded to dump scoop after scoop of chicken salad onto my plate until there was a pile equal to Mt. Everest.

It didn’t take long for the quick comments and remarks to come from the rest of the family, “I know you’re pregnant, but gee…” or “Just help yourself, none of the rest of us want any,” and numerous other comic comments bombarded me from all sides.

I tried to defend myself with, “I wasn’t paying attention.” but that was greeted with the humerous, “Yeah, you say that now that we’ve noticed.”  I was laughing so hard I was beet red and the entire family was in stiches.  “You’ve got to eat it now!” came the delighted cries as I looked with humour and dismay at Mt. Everest sitting on my plate.  Gratefully Paul had to exit the table to take care of Jacob. When he got back there had magically appeared a Mt. Hood of chicken salad on his plate – and some how mine looked to be downsized to Mt. Hood as well. Hmmmm – I wonder how that happened.

I don’t think Paul’s family is ever going to let me live that one down. 🙂

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Filed under Family, Goofs, Humor, Meme

D is for Dent

Encyclopedia of Me Meme

 The first year we were married, Paul and I lived in a smallish (actually it was rather large) 2 bedroom apartment in Utah.  While we loved the apartment, the driveway and parking lot was a nightmare. 

The entire area was just big enough for cars to park in front of the building with room left over for a single car to drive behind them in order to get to your spot.  So one side of the entire drive way was line with the ends of cars.  The other side of the drive way was line with a row of bright red poles.  There was no space for turning around – you simply pulled in and backed out.  Pulling in wasn’t such a big deal, its always a bit easier to see where you are going, but backing out sent me into a nervous breakdown every time.  Paul hated it too.  I was always terrified of running into all the cars as I passed by.

On morning, I was pregnant with Elizabeth, I was backing the car out to head to my classes at BYU. I was feeling particularly nervous as there were a few large cars still parked in the lot. All of a sudden I heard a terrific screeching noise.  Panicked I slammed on my brake and looked to my right expecting to see masses of wrecked cars.  With a slight relief I saw all the cars over there were all intact. Then I looked to my left. I had run the car right up next to the red poles. I couldn’t even open my door. There was nothing I could do, but to throw the car into drive and pull forward. Timidly I edged forward, screeching all the way until I was free of the cursed red poles.  But now I was in tears – I had to tell my husband of only a few months that I had wrecked the car on those dumb red poles.

Paul was such a sweetheart, he wasn’t even mad. He took of the side of the car, dismantled the door and pounded the huge massive dents back out – and scrubbed off all the red paint.  But he isn’t such a sweet heart now – every time we go driving anywhere, my ears are constantly assaulted by, “Look out for those poles! Watch it, that’s a red one!” 

I usually smack him as we dissolve into giggles.

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A is for ….

Ok, I’m not really big into memes, but when I stumbled across this one it caught my attention. Perhaps it’s because I wanted to try to write more steadily and I thought it would get me in the habbit – or perhaps it is because it will help the creativity flow. It is not your usual meme.  It is called the Encyclopedia of Me Meme where each day you write a post about yourself or something you are interested in, following the alphabet. Granted there are only 26 letter in the alphabet, but it will keep me going for a while – and should any of you decide to try it out too, it might just be fun! 🙂  Here’s a link to the lady who came up with the Meme if I didn’t explain it enough: Encyclopedia of Me Meme.  Ok, now with that introduction out of the way I shall continue on with my post…

A is for Affair

Now, don’t get all excited, it’s not what you think. 

I was on my way home from a grueling day yesterday. We had started with leaving for a prenatal at 11:00 in the morning. Em was deposited at a friend’s house and sisters were disgruntled that they hadn’t been invited to friends houses. We muddled through the prenatal with Dad hanging onto the wiggly two year old and Mom trying to get the older girls to be still during the blood draw (my second one because the lab didn’t pick up the draw in time the last time). Consequently I am just over 18 weeks and heard baby’s heart beat today which thrilled the girls. Jacob lifted up his shirt so he could be just like mom and my midwife let us listen to his heart beat with the doppler – it was quite fun.  All is well in baby land. 

 I drove the 30 minutes back home, picked up Em and some lunch and had a potty break, then we drove another 20 minutes to a farmers market.  Upon arrival, Thing 1 informed me that she needed to go potty BAD. I was bewildered as I told her, “but you went 20 minutes ago!” and proceeded to say she would just have to hold it for there was not a potty in sight.  We blazed through the market picking up some berries and fresh vegies, Elizabeth crying and whimpering the whole way. Then we sped to Wal-mart for toilets and school supplies.

Trying to juggle three children’s school lists is an interesting feat (I can’t wait till all 5 are in school – I now have new respect for my poor mom 🙂 ) – not to mention juggling the four kids to go along with it. An hour or two later, with the cart loaded to the hilt, whining kids, and sore feet, we staggered out the Wal-mart doors and to our car.  I wearily planted myself on the car seat and turned on the A.C. full blast. It was so HOT,  I was  TIRED, and my feet HURT.

I wasn’t really paying much attention to the radio – it was a dumb travel agency ad anyway.  All of a sudden my mind went reeling  as I balked and looked at the radio like it was some strange, foreign object.

“And love affairs for every occasion….” I heard broadcast worldwide.

“Excuse me?” my brain said as it tried not to be insulted. Then I realized that the heat really had addled my brains – the advertiser hadn’t said “love affairs” but “LOW FARES!”

Ay, ay, AY! I dissolved into a melted puddle of laughter.

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Filed under Goofs, Humor, Meme, Pregnancy

Why My Parents Didn’t Name Me Grace

I teach a primary class at church – a large group of girls from the ages of 9 turning 10 this year up to just barely turned 12 this year.  I’ll have anywhere from 12-15 girls a week.  We have a lot of fun, they are a hoot to teach.

Sunday I was walking into our classroom while chatting with a friend when suddenly my right ankle turned (blasted high heels, though they are wider heels and pretty sturdy) and I went flying backward. I fell backwards across the hall, my legs shot out in front of me (at least I didn’t flash anyone in my sunday skirt) and I landed on my bum – HARD. The momentum of my fall caused my elbow to smash into the door (where a Sunday school class of teenagers was) behind me, followed my my entire back.  It was humiliatingly loud. My friend was caught between astonished, laughing, and concerned about my *condition*. And pronounced, “That was the strangest fall I have ever seen.” 

All of my girls heard my resonating crash and one of them popped out, “That was you???” In utter amazement and I was greeted by many giggles once I limped into the room – after they made sure I was all right, of course. Only one of the teenagers witnessed by glorious grace, thankgoodness, though he was kind enough to tease me about it heavily later on in the day.  My friend of course was kind enough to let my husband know, so he hunted me down later and renewed many giggles.  I don’t know that my lesson was terribly effective that day – the goofiness of their teacher seemed to occupy them for quite some time.

And, aside from being very, very sore, I – and baby- are just fine.  Feeling a bit wounded in the pride department, but fine just the same. 🙂

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A Bone to Pick and a Carpet to Clean

I’ve got a bone to pick with you Deb.  I have been klutz and accident free for quite a while, until you asked me that question.  Today – a few short hours after I posted the answers to your questions I  executed a feat that would put all other feats to shame. But now I get ahead of myself, let me back up a few hours….

I finished writing my blog and got the kids ready to go out and run some errands, post office, bank, you know the kind. The rain had finally let up and the sun was out and I was feeling particularly cheery.  I was thinking about lunch and dinner and decided not to eat my leftovers for lunch, but save them for dinner so there would be enough for the whole family – and save me time and cooking.  I grabbed a yummy bag of pasta from the frozen aisle.  I usually don’t do this but it was on sale at a ridiculously cheap price and it had shrimp in it – mmmmm.  I figured it would make a decent little lunch.

I got home, fed the children and sent them off to quiet time while I straightened up the kitchen some, put things away, and cooked up my little bag of pasta. It smelled so devine and the shrimp called to me with their scintillating scents, begging to be eaten.  I poured myself a large (really large) glass of juice that I had given the kids (I know, it really should have been water, shame on me) and, resisting the urge to pop one of the shrimp in my mouth right then, dumped it on my plate.  With plate and book in one hand and giant juice filled cup in other hand I began to head into the family room.

I was in the process of trying to decide if I would watch a re-run of Matlock while I ate lunch or if I would work on my writing when I hit the patch of water on the floor.  Unbeknownst to me one of the children had spilled water this morning.  I was suddenly skidding across the remainder of the kitchen floor – the sudden jolt sending juice rushing over the edge of the cup in a wave onto our wood stove as I sailed past on my right foot – fighting for balance, and trying to save my food. 

My left foot hit the carpet leading into the family room and twisted at the sudden jolt of traction.  While my feet stopped suddenly I found that my upper body did not have any such resistance.  I was now launched on my final flight.  Just ahead I saw the plastic fence (our attempt to quarentine Jacob, though it really doesn’t do much good anymore) rappidly rushing up to meet my legs.  I plowed it down like the big bad wolf puffing away the house of straw.  In horror I watched my plate of beloved shrimpy pasta fly free and felt the giant cup of juice beginning to sail through the air.  With a resounding crash and postludial “Oomph!” I landed, skidding across the carpet on my stomach through my food, my arms out stretched before me. I suddenly had an insane urge to scream “SUPERMAN!!!” as I surged across the floor. I had juice dripping down the side of my head and was wearing pretty pasta, sauce and shrimp across my t-shirt.  The juice was kind enough to spray so well as it flipped and flew through the air that I found droplets running down the window all the way across the room, and I might be finding escaped shrimp for the next few days in the oddest places. The only comment I could manage to say to myself as I eyed the damage was, “Well, that hurt, I needed to clean the carpet anyway.”  But I must say, I lamented the loss of my pasta as I scooped it into the garbage – unsalvagable unless you care for pasta a la dog hair. 

So left-overs for lunch, and left-overs for dinner, and a carpet cleaner rental this evening.

And borrowing, and slightly altering a line from a much earlier post, I leave with you my final thoughts on the afore mentioned events of this (not so splendid) afternoon:

 “Oh my! How Juice, Pasta, and Goofy can fly!”

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Lasting Effects of the Purse Escapade

We all know what happened with purse escapade -and if you don’t and want to know, you can read about it here.

By the time the purse was found, where only a toddler could manage to shove the thing, accounts were closed, new accounts opened, new drivers licence obtained, and new credit cards ordered.  We found ourselves with no checks (they were on order), no debit card (they were being mailed to us) and no credit cards (also being mailed to us) for the better part of a week.  Well, ok, we had a few checks as they give you a few complimentary checks upon opening a new account to tide you over while you order new checks.  They got us through the first week fine and we felt we were on top of the world when our credit cards arrived Friday.  Then, Saturday, to great choruses of Hallelujah, the debit cards arrived. Now I just needed the pin number which they send seperately.  No problem, should arrive Monday. 

Saturday I proceeded to activate my credit card and then I took my debit card off it’s paper to put in a safe place until the pin number arrived. 

Monday came and so did my pin-number. Estatic and full of glee I went to get my debit card and activate it.  It wasn’t there. In fact it wasn’t anywhere on Paul’s desk, my desk or either office.  It wasn’t in my purse or in my wallet.  Once again a very frustrating search took place.  Even more frustrating because we knew it had to be here somewhere.  Finally we decided I either put it in a really safe place (never to be found again) or Jacob ran off with it when we weren’t looking (also never to be found again).  I didn’t want to call the bank AGAIN so I decided just to tough it out.  The checks would hopefully arrive soon.  An entire week passed by.  The complimentary checks had long since run out, leaving me with no checks and no debit card, only a credit card which I was loathe to use.

Finally the following Monday the checks arrived.  I was in business now, at least not feeling so estranged from our bank account anyway.

Tuesday was busy and chaotic.  Trying to get ready for an appointmet and for volunteering at the school. I was hopping down the hall trying to pull on my last sock when Emily nonchalantly walks up to me.

“Here, I found this,” she hands me a thin plastic card and walks off.

To my amazement I realize I am holding the lost debit card, activation sticker still in place.

“Wait, where did you find it?” I called quizically.

“Oh,” she replied like it was an every day occurance,”In the bin with all the train pieces.”

I gave whoop, twirled her through the air, and called her my little hero.  To Jacob I gave a whoop twirled him through the air and called him my little rapscallion, because no matter what kind of safe place I might have thought of to stick it, I never would have put it there.

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Filed under Children, Em, Goofs, Humor, Jacob, Miracles