It's Carnival Time

It's elementary school carnival time again. In fact, the big event is less than a week away and I've got a To Do list that's hit four pages in length. And that's just what I can actually remember... who knows what the heck I'm missing. I've made several phone calls and sent out close to 16 million emails so far this morning.

I may be exaggerating a bit. But not much.

So much of the carnival planning is doing what you can in advance and then hoping it all comes together in the end. Hoping that kids are selling raffle tickets. Hoping that their parents bring the cookies, brownies, and cakes they've promised. Hoping that the volunteers show up at their scheduled times. Hoping I can get a few more items for the silent auction. Hoping that the weather stays nice. Hoping I don't kill anyone before Saturday.

And thankful that KU lost in the Sweet 16 because if they had made it to the Final 4 games on Saturday afternoon, our attendance numbers would have been toast.

It's going to be a crazy week. Throw in that silly thing I do called 'work', and I'm going to be glad to see Saturday come and go. Then I can look ahead to kindergarten round up and Easter. I hope the Bunny is better organized than I am, because at the moment? Easter baskets are not looking good.

Potty Training

I'm not a big fan of potty training. I mean, I'm a HUGE fan of potty-trained children but I'd really rather not be involved in the training process. This worked out nicely with N, who saw the other kids at daycare and decided that the toilet was the way to go (pun intended). Easy peasy and I had a potty-trained kiddo before she turned two. The system didn't work so well with A, who just recently started sleeping thru the night without needing a pull-up at 4 1/2. Still, it's not like she had started kindergarten yet so no parenting fail there, right?

I've been cruising along, happily ignoring the probability that Miss P was ready for potty training until, as usual, P took matters into her own hands. For the last week, whenever P sees A heading toward the bathroom, Miss P races to the bathroom, too. She waits her turn and then climbs up on the seat to sit happily for what seems like hours. She has no intention of actually using the toilet. For the moment, sitting up there makes her happy and that's all she needs.

So lately I have spent a lot of time in the bathroom with Miss P, singing songs and teaching P her colors and contemplating a complete remodel of the bathroom, because I really hate the wallpaper in that room. I'm also wondering how difficult it would be to rip out the sink cabinet and replace the whole thing.

Obviously, potty training is a very dangerous - and expensive - undertaking.

Mother of the Year

My oldest daughter doesn't know it yet, but this summer I will become Mother of the Year. She's going to swear undying loyalty to me. She's going to promise to clean her room and empty the dishwasher and babysit her sisters whenever I ask.

I just ordered tickets to the Jonas Brothers World Tour.

Thank You Sargento

After a weekend of watching many, many basketball games (or at least, listening to them with half an ear while reading books), I've decided that as a society we have overlooked one of our greatest achievements.

Those little cheese cubes from Sargento.

So convenient! So simple! So somewhat healthy!

I bought a couple of bags for game time snacking. I felt a little guilty at the checkout line. After all, those little cheese cubes are the ultimate proof of my laziness... I'm not even willing to slice cheese into convenient bite-sized pieces!... but I bought them anyway. And I loved them. The entire family loved them.

Now I need to talk to the sausage people.

Mission Accomplished: 5k Trail Run

That was FUN! That was 3.1 miles of puffing up hills and jumping over rocks and running around tree roots and carefully negotiating stream beds... and it was FUN! I definitely wasn't fast. In fact, I finished second to last in the 5k. And, since a 10k (6.2 miles) was running consecutively on the same trails, I was lapped by quite a few of the speedy 10k runners... and it was STILL fun!

It was a big ol' party. A chilly, damp party. At a ridiculously early time in the morning. But a party nonetheless. The runners were all 'good job' and 'keep it up' and 'you go girl!' as they zipped by me on the trails. The scenery was gorgeous! And when I say 'scenery', I also include the aid station at the 2 mile mark. I was never so glad to a table with cups of water in my life :)

I ran almost all of it. There were a couple of hills that kicked my rear, and after I almost took a nose dive on a particularly sneaky rock (who put rocks on the trail!??!), I decided to walk and catch my breath before doing serious injury to myself, but I'd guess that I ran at least 40 of the 50 minutes it took to complete the course. As we came up the trail to the finish line, the race organizers were ringing cowbells and yelling encouragement and it was FUN!

I'm hooked. I'm signing up for the 10k in May. And if I have to walk some of it, so be it. No one at the race seemed to care if I was first or last, and neither did I. That was a blast.

Mama Needs New Jewelry

With three daughters in the house, I rarely buy new things for myself. I'm always buying clothes in three sizes to fit whatever new season is upon us. And then, when I think I have enough hand-me-downs to fit the kiddos and won't need to buy a bunch of new things, suddenly their feet have grown three sizes and I'm off to buy new shoes. Since I, depressingly, have not shrunk significantly in several years, I have clothes that fit, so new outfits aren't a priority.

But once in a while, I need a pick-me-up. A little flash of color. Something new to perk up the existing outfits that hang in my closet.

So today, I'm sporting a cute little beaded bracelet in shades of green and gold. And it's amazing what a new bangle can do for my attitude. If a measly bracelet can perk me up, just think of how my mood would improve if I finally got the big, sparkly diamond ring I've been asking for! Honey? Are you listening?

Why I'm Irritated with ESPN the Magazine

We get ESPN the Magazine. Actually, *I* get ESPN the Mag. I'm the listed subscriber since I have this knack for getting free magazines. Anywho, we get it and I always read it because 1) I read everything and 2) The mag typically has interesting stories. For instance, there was a story a few issues ago about this kid who competes against Shawn White (remember the flying tomato from the winter olympics a few years ago?) and it totally made me want to watch the Winter X Games even tho, in general, I couldn't care less about snowboarding because as far as I'm concerned, the only good thing about winter sports is the hot cocoa in front of a fireplace at the end of the day.

So... as I was saying... I like the stories. But this issue pissed me off. It contained a story about Candace Parker, a WNBA rookie who is already a superstar because of her skills and her marketability. She's pretty and wholesome and you've probably seen her in McDonald's commercials. ESPN the Mag doesn't use much editorial space on women's sports, so I was looking forward to reading the article. Until, in the first paragraph, the article mentioned her bra size. Twice.

TWICE!

The rest of the article didn't improve my mood. The author spent a considerable amount of space explaining that Candace Parker is never going to get the type of endorsement money that, say Kobe Bryant or other big-name NBA stars get because women's sports don't draw enough spectators and/or name recongition for Parker. You see, the common spectator doesn't respect women athletes as much as male athletes, and therefore women are worth less to corporate types looking to spend advertising dollars.

My counter point? If a respected sports magazine can't talk about the woman without the need to mention her bra size TWICE in the FIRST paragraph of an article, then obviously the magazine doesn't have any respect for women's sports either. And if a magazine dedicated to promoting sport doesn't respect female athletes, then how do we expect corporate sponsors or spectators to fall in love with women athletes in the same way that we have fallen in love with male athletes over the years?

Because in most cases, it's the story that we love. That's why we watch the Olympics with such interest. That's why the big name athletes are big name athletes - someone has told their story and made us want to know more. And there's no reason a female athlete can't become a media star if the story is crafted correctly. I don't watch NBA basketball, but I know who Kobe Bryant is. Heck, I don't watch the WNBA either but I still knew who Candace Parker was before I opened the magazine.

I want the story on women athletes to be told the right way. Make me want to know more, ESPN the Magazine, and then maybe the corporate types will follow. Either that or I expect every article on male athletes to include their jock size.

Gorgeous Day Today!

The Weekend

I'm feeling better, but now the parents are here so a long blog post will have to wait for a bit. In lieu of my witty insights, go here instead and have a good laugh. My friend Elaine has been giving me an entirely new perspective on Mormonism (Mormonhood?) for quite a while now but this... well, this... well... you'd better go read for yourself.

I'm going to Walmart for groceries. And I intend to pay for all of them.

Strep Throat

I have strep throat. And I am grouchy.

Kindle Fever

I've been longing for a Kindle book reader since they first came out, but the recent release of the second version has 'kindled' (ha!) a fever in me. I wouldn't even consider the $400 price tag of the Kindle 2s, but the new release has spawned a lovely eBay market for used original Kindles with a more reasonable price tag in the under $250 range.

Okay, fine. It's still not all that reasonable. But it's at least something I could put on my Christmas list and have a chance of getting.

I adore reading and, thanks to our local library and a Barnes & Noble discount card, I go through books like a house on fire. I love the idea of hearing about a book, downloading it, and reading it seconds later. I love the portability of having several books right at my fingertips anytime, anyplace I want them. I love the entire concept. And I want one.

Heck, I've considered running a half marathon in October, just so I could reward myself with a Kindle! (That's how I'm actually doing this running thing - it's all bribery. If I run a 5k in a few weeks, I'm buying myself an iPod nano.)

I do wonder if I'll miss the feel of the pages beneath my fingers. If the joy of simply browsing the shelves to see what I find would be lost. But owning a Kindle wouldn't preclude purchases at the bookstore or loans from the library - an all or nothing approach isn't required. And I want one. In case I haven't mentioned that before. My birthday, however, is months away and Christmas - well, I'd better start dropping hints now.

In book-related news, I'm reading Big Russ & Me by Tim Russert. Or, I'm trying to. First, I greatly admired Tim Russert and it's hard for me to read this book without hearing his voice and missing his presence on the television. Second, Big Russ reminds me of my grandfathers and it makes me wonder what wonderful stories I missed because Gramps passed away when I was in 7th grade. Grandpa Bob served in WWII and this book reminds me that I really should call and make him tell me all sorts of stories before the stories are gone forever. I find myself on the verge of tears too often, and I'm only 60 pages in. This is going to be a tough read.

In other book-related news, I called my Grandma today (she's in a care facility after a short stay in the hospital, but should be home next week). My grandparents on my Dad's side always crack me up. The weather wasn't great where my grandparents live and Grandma said she'd sent Grandpa home, rather than have him sitting at the care facility with her. She told Grandpa it was because she didn't want him driving in bad weather, but confessed to me that it was actually because she had a couple of good books to dive into and didn't need him around bugging her. I hope I'm that spunky when I'm in my mid-80s! The husband is not as enthuasiastic about my intentions.

Love, Preschool-Style

On the day of the Valentine's party, love was in the air. When I stopped to pick Miss A up, an older man approached me (I later found out he was 5), held out his hand, and confidently introduced himself: "Hello, my name is Randy. I'm A's boyfriend. That means she's my girlfriend."

Can't argue with that logic. It did, however, stun me enough that I could manage only to nod politely and hustle A to the car.

All through the weekend, A talked about her boyfriend. He had, apparently, been her friend Gracie's boyfriend, but Gracie was now yesterday's news and A was 'in' with the new man in town. After a couple of days, we were getting tired of hearing about him (especially when she kept forgetting his name and had to ask, "What's my boyfriend called again?"). However, Miss A ignored our disapproval, content in the knowledge of her true love, even going so far as to tell me, "Some people think I shouldn't have a boyfriend, but I'm tall enough."

Randy and A had become quite the fixture at preschool, hanging out on the playground, sitting next to each other during circle time, and crying when they couldn't ride in the same vehicle on a field trip.

However, even true love sometimes ends. Randy committed an unforgiveable sin on Tuesday - he pinched Gracie. Miss A spent two days in thoughtful contemplation and finally announced this morning that she was not going to be Randy's girlfriend anymore. She simply couldn't hold hands with someone who would hurt her friends.

I told her we'd buy ice cream on the way home from school tonight so that she could drown her sorrows.

Testing, Testing

Evidently my blog content has gone on a holiday... let's see if this posts, shall we?

Sisters

Oh, The Shame!

I have openly mocked those who must watch Big Brother, The Bachelor, and all of those reality shows that populate television these days. Granted, I have a small addiction to Project Runway, but that's completely different because it's about fashion, right? Right.

So considering the way I feel about those shows that are all about showing flesh, catfighting women, and drama drama drama, you can imagine how I felt when I happened upon The Girls Next Door. It's a reality show set at the Playboy Mansion and features Hugh Hefner's three 'girlfriends'. The same three girls have been living with Hef for five years now and someone decided it would be a good idea to follow them around with camera and capture the hijinks. I was appalled!

And then I decided I really liked it. And I watch it all the time. Kendra is this loud-mouth, crude girl who does and says whatever she wants. Bridget is sweet and oh-so-blonde. And Holly is spunky and has worked her way into a position as creative director for the magazine and is Hef's main girl. Or was Hef's main girl, because she and the other two girls are moving out of the mansion this season. I'm sooooooooo sad, because I've really liked following these three girls and now they're going to be replaced by other girls and it just won't be the same.

I'll have to keep my mouth shut about reality tv from now on, because this is way worse than The Bachelor!