Somebody

September Writing Challenge - Prompt #30:

Somebody 

Somebody got roses from her best friend on her birthday and is letting them die on my kitchen table. 

It was Daisy

Somebody left their lobster flops on the kitchen floor. 

It was Zoe

Somebody made cute flower cupcakes last night. 

It was Zoe

Somebody made banana muffins and pumpkin muffins today (and now there are a lot of dirty muffin tins in the house). 

It was me

Somebody likes to eat Ruffles chips dipped in Chick-Fil-A sauce.

It's Eva

Somebody found Ben & Jerry's marked down for $1.80 at Smith's this morning.

It was me

Sunday Sentiments - Where I Live

September Writing Challenge - Prompt #26:

Recycle

I've been hearing a lot of really mean comments about where I live lately, so I thought it was time to recycle this post from six years ago.

----------

I've lived within the same five mile radius my whole life. Sometimes I've had a Magna address, and sometimes I've had a West Valley address, but I haven't gone far. The same can be said for Scotty. 

West Valley doesn't have the greatest reputation. People who live outside of West Valley think very poorly of our city. My nephew who lives in another county once asked Nicky, "Aren't you afraid of being shot where you live?" Just last week my brother-in-law and another nephew called our city trash. Another family member insulted our schools, and yet another family member made a joke about the crime in our area. My sister-in-law told me she doesn't feel safe walking down the street here. My niece often tells my daughter how much safer her city is than ours. People make crude and racist comments about the diversity here (our demographic is less than 45% Caucasian as of 2018). It goes on and on. 

A lot of people have a goal to get out of West Valley and live somewhere "better." Sometimes I, too, wonder if there is somewhere "better" I could live. But when I think about what would be "better," I draw a blank. What really makes a place "better?" Different places just have different problems, and some are masked better than others. A friend of mine often jokes, "We could move to [insert more affluent city], but the drugs are just more expensive there."

For the time being, we feel like we are where we belong, and when we start wondering if we should  live somewhere else, I always get a reassurance that we are right where we are supposed to be. Maybe one day, we will receive an assignment through work or church that takes us elsewhere, or maybe we will be given a strong push from the Spirit that it’s time to move, but right now, and for the foreseeable future, there is nowhere "better" for us than in our current home in West Valley. 

Collectively, one of our favorite features of our city is the red and white water tower. As a child I was always captivated by it. I could see it from my house, and I remember going out on my deck from time to time to look at it. 

The water tower has always been a symbol of home. You can see it from an airplane or the east mountains and know where where you are. The tower is a beacon by which we West Valley residents can orient ourselves.

At the beginning of 2020, Sister Sharon Eubank came spoke at a tri-stake fireside in our area. Sister Eubank grew up in West Valley, less than a mile from where I live.

She had such wonderful things to say about our city, which was a refreshing change from the usual rhetoric. She made me feel so good about living here, and she even brought a picture of the red and white tower. She told us how her father, Mark Eubank, a well-known meteorologist in Utah, used to take the family and park near the tower when it rained so they could hear the sound of the rain hitting the tower. She then spoke about water and living water. She shared some experiences of bringing water to communities through her work with LDS Charities and how water has the ability to change lives. She urged us to look at the red and white tower as a symbol for Christ - the living water. I loved her message. Not only did she make us all feel like her best friends, she took something from our city and made it more meaningful to us. The tower has always been special and nostalgic to me, but Sister Eubank's talk made it even better. 

So maybe West Valley isn't everyone else's ideal place to live, but it's where I live, and I have full access to living water here as much as I would anywhere else. 

Living My Best Van Life

September Writing Challenge: Prompt #13:

In My Car

I’ve been a van driver for about 13 years now. I’m on my third one. I love my van! I have always loved vans! As a child, I couldn’t have told you what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I knew I wanted a van. 

We got our first van when Zoe was about five months old. Having three kids side by side in car seats on a single row is possible but not ideal, especially when a jealous sibling likes to cover the baby’s mouth and nose with her hand while you drive. Thus, we made the upgrade to a van. The first thing I immediately loved about our van was the sliding doors. No more parking lot door dings! Glory hallelujah! 

I love being able to fit extra kids. I love being able to haul lots of things. I love that I can store items in the floor. I love the trunk space. I love that the seats can fold down. I love being able to strap things to my roof. I love that I can push buttons, and the doors will open. 

Having a van is amazing, and no one can convince me otherwise. 

Maybe I’ll drive something else after my kids are all out of the house (vintage Bronco, please), but for now, I’m all about the van! 

As far as what’s in my van - well, only the most amazing stash of anything you may need (Scissors? Yes. Makeup? Yes. Soduku book? Yes. Tweezers? Double yes). But also, my dash board friends:

Steve, Eleven, Dustin, and Marty McFly

My Day Off

September Writing Challenge: Prompt #35:

Day Off

I work part-time, and yesterday was my day off. Since returning to work, I have learned to appreciate a day off and use it to the best of my ability. That doesn’t mean every day off is productive, but many of them are. I’ve also been known to schedule in some “me” activities such as hair appointments and lunches with friends. I usually keep a running list of things I need to get done on my days off, too. 

Here’s how I spent my day off yesterday:

I slept in until 6:45. Then I got up and made French toast sticks for my girls for breakfast in the air fryer. I dropped Zoe and Eva off at school, and then I snuck to McDonald’s to use my two dollar breakfast sandwich reward for the week.

I came home for an hour and tidied up the kitchen and updated our budget. Then I went and met my friend to go walking for about an hour. We shared the woes of aging and raising teenagers.

 Morning text from Daisy

From there, I went directly to Sam’s Club, where I suffered an unfortunate chafing situation as a result of walking, sweating, and staying in the same clothes. I picked up my neuropathy prescription and spent a large sum of money. Not on the prescription. That was actually cheap ($1.52). 

I had enough rewards in the Chick-fil-A app to get some free lunch, so I hit the drive thru. The drink was terrible, so on my way home I stopped at McDonald’s for a better drink! Hopefully nobody is keeping track of my eating out habits.

I ate my fries in the parking lot because I wanted them hot, but I was OK taking my chicken sandwich home to eat later. 

I took a shower and then played a round of ArkNova in my bathrobe. Then I set my alarm clock and let myself take a 20 minute nap with my hair wrapped in a towel.

When I woke up, I tried on some new clothes I bought from Sam’s Club, then I blow dried and styled my hair and got dressed. This was around 2:00 PM, and I didn’t really have any reason to do my hair and get ready, but I bought new hair products earlier in the week and I wanted to give them a try.

At 2:40 I headed over to the junior high to pick up my girls. They wanted to stop by my mom‘s house to steal drinks from her fridge, so I took them over there and they raided her stash. Then we came home and I discovered that my hair had already gone flat! I was not happy about that. Darn you, Paul Mitchell!

I facilitated afternoon chores and headed out to the garden to dig up some veggies. I was making a 9x13 tinfoil dinner, so I dug up some potatoes, carrots, and onions. Then I came inside and got dinner prepped. Every time I make a tinfoil dinner the veggies never get done, so I started it in what I thought was plenty of time so the veggies would be tender before Eva went to dance class. Two hours later, the veggies were still quite crisp, and I ended up having to feed Eva some leftovers from a few nights ago. I left the dinner cooking, and took Eva to dance class thinking dinner would finally be ready by the time I got back home. It was not. We ended up eating slightly hard veggies, and then I put the rest back in the oven to cook even longer. 

While Eva was at dance class, Daisy and Zoe went to their young women activity at the church. I cleaned up dinner and packed lunches. I also took out a little bit of garbage for garbage day. I tidied up a few things around the house and proofread an essay for Daisy. I snuck in a few minutes of TV and another round of ArkNova as well as a few rounds of Crossplay. 

I also lifted weights, put away some stuff I bought from Sam’s Club, and cleaned a few things up in the bathroom. 

I put my clothes out for the next day, got all the children in bed, and wrote this blog post. 

Where was Scotty while all of this was happening? In Vietnam. So my day off was much needed.

Waiting For Me

September Writing Challenge: Prompt #12:

On My Nightstand

In addition to:

My CPAP machine

A frog bank

A bottle of water

My CPAP scrunchie (I have to put my hair up to wear my mask)

Four bottles of lotion

The remote control

A projection alarm clock that Amber and I insisted on having

A lamp

and a caffeine free Diet Dr. Pepper (which I occasionally find at Smith’s, should you be curious)

I have two very important things waiting for me…

Made by Zoe

Because sometimes at 9:06 pm, you need two cookies and a big dose of TV. 

Let It Be Known

September Writing Challenge: Prompt #8:

Let It Be Known

Let it be known... that I’m starting to get old and loud. Daisy always tells me how loud I am when I say something embarrassing. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I swear I’m speaking discreetly!

Let it be known... that I found out recently that I’m older than the Vice President of the USA. 

(My friend Julie says wait until you’re older than an apostle! That doesn’t really happen, does it?)

Let it be known... that the other day I went up to my room and found this:

Courtesy of Eva

Eva had to write a letter to the president in school last year, and he sent back a (mass produced) response and a photo of himself. 

Yes, this is the photo that he chooses to send the children. 

Let it be known... that social media is now full-on mocking the neutral colors (primarily gray) home trend of the 2010's. As I get older, I'm getting more and more annoyed by the existence of trends. I wish we all did what we truly liked. How interesting would it be if we stripped away popularity and fads and everyone dressed/decorated/ate how they really wanted to? 

The thing is, I loved the neutral trend! I could change color schemes so easy with pillows, a rug, or shelf decor without changing the entire room. If I was loving green for a season, I could add green! If I was loving pink, I could add pink! All of my holiday decor worked. Fall had orange accents. Christmas had red accents. And I never had to try and make it work with a blue wall or green carpet. 

Why are we mocking it? It was genius!

Let it be known... that if zombies were real I would just be one. I watch all these folks on TV working so hard to not become zombies, and I'm like why? Just bite me. I'm too lazy to stay human. Becoming a zombie would eliminate all levels of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, and I could just hunt, kill, and infect the remaining humans to make their lives as easy as mine. 

Let it be known... that corn on the cob should be eaten with the tiny end to the left, moving from left to right like you're reading a book. 

Also let it be known that corn on the cob is one of the best things to eat on this earth (but I have opinions about the kind of corn and when it should be picked - very young, sweet corn is my preference). 

Let it be known... that I've decided instead of saying something specific about a person, my way of indicating that I am not a fan will be to declare, "I would not be willing to write their obituary." 

Let it be known... that Daisy turned 17 yesterday. 

Say What?

September Writing Challenge - Prompt #16:

Words

Sometimes I get so annoyed with modern-day vernacular. When I listen to my kids talk, I can't help but wonder if I used to sound like that to my parents. The first words I remember hearing out of my kids' mouths that made me go, "What the heck is happening here?" were things like “cray,” "sus," "gyatt," and "cringe."

I didn't think "gyatt" was a real thing. When Daisy threw that out one day at twelve years old, I responded with, "What are you even saying? That's not a word!" I thought someone at school just made it up and convinced her to say it.

Now it's "buns" this, "peak" that," and "lowkey" everything. It's amazing how unintelligent it all sounds to my elderly ears, but I have to acknowledge all the things that sound normal to me that were actually slang from my growing years. Here are some words and phrases that I thought of that have become popular/common during my lifetime. Some are no longer used but others are still going strong:

The naughty words: pissed, sucks, and blows. 

The filler words: totally, honestly, legit, literally, and like. 

Examples: "I totally/honestly/legit/literally got lost in the mall. Like, I'm not even kidding!"

Nowadays this is where the kids say "low key." See? "I low-key got lost in the mall. I'm low-key not even kidding!"

Words that have changed meaning: gay, queer, bad, and sick.

I used to go around in elementary school calling people queer. To me, it meant peculiar. When people started telling me otherwise, I tried to single-handedly prevent the word from adapting. It turns out, I have no such power (though I still try to this day to control what words mean). 

Just the other day, it dawned on me that if I were to mention "having beef" with someone in front of my grandparents, they would probably think I was going to Burger King with a friend. 

Exclamatory phrases: "My bad!" "Oh, snap!" 

Remember "booyah, “as if,” and "moded?" (may they rest in peace). 

And let us not forget how many of us ran around saying "Cowabunga!" and "Eat my shorts!"

-------

Someday my kids will have to listen to their kids' weird words and that'll low key be da bomb. Fo shizzle.