This Where the Nonsense Turns to Makesense

..A large family working to perfect our sweet skills: Loving others, making an impact, parenting on purpose, living simply, and embracing sarcasm.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Are You Sure About Them Five Minutes

There's a chance this post will hold random interjections of movie quotes. 

That was your fair warning. 

Some of you that spend time with me know I can participate in a conversation using nearly all movie quotes. The crazy part is most people can't tell I am quoting. This happens with my kids. But, now that they are old enough to watch some of the classics, they seem to be catching on to the truth. 

YOU CANT HANDLE THE TRUTH

See? I told you. 

I've introduced my teenagers to some great movies. What About Bob?, the old school Star Wars, Ferris Beuller's Day Off, Say Anything, Uncle Buck, So I Married an Ax Murderer. Just to name a few. 
Here's what usually happens:
I'm sitting there, happy as a clam to hear them giggle along with some of my most favorite lines. They seem to be taking this classic under their wing. My kids are going to make it! They are going to be the only ones in class who get 80's and 90's pop culture references their teachers mutter beneath their breath. I'm feeling like a superior mother. 
Then I hear "what the heck. You say that line all the time!! Don't you make anything up yourself? I've always thought you were so funny!"
:crickets. Life flashing. Sweaty armpits. Clammy palms:

"A sixth grader chased me on his bike. When I got exhausted and fell down he wailed me with his shoe for an hour."

I calm myself, restart my heart, and try to mimick Bob Wiley in his morning mantra: I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful. 

Did my kids just say I am not funny? 

Doh. 

Did I make a terrible mistake letting them into this carefully studied land? 

GAH. 

Has the time come when I accuse them of smelling like pine tree perfume and they know I am simply quoting Tommy Boy? 

Say it ain't so. 

I've decided to restrict them to VeggieTales. 

Sixteen year olds still like VeggieTales, right? 

Thursday, September 04, 2014

Focus

I've yelled this word to my son at least six times tonight. I won't tell him what to do anymore. I just yell, "FOCUS!"

It's because, like so many people, he can't focus on what really matters. I say, " Son, read me this poem."
I look up and he is poking himself in his nipple with his pencil. 
I say, "write your words once each. "
I look, and he is attempting to silently open a to-go wet wipe and rub down his legs. Silently. 

I sent him to make his lunch and proceeded to read a few articles. I need a break.

 I came across one about a girl who is offended that her high school principal appears to play favorites. He has double standards for boys and girls and spouts cliche quips to both genders. 
"Modest is hottest!" Really dude? Pull your head out. I get your point, but you should promote high school girl hotness in no way. Zero. Not at all. It's creepy. Now, go shave your mustache. 

"Boys will be boys." Uh. This sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen. Again, I see your point, but you need to broaden your scope and realize you hold a position of influence. Are you really wanting to turn out a class of mediocre men from your campus? How about raising the bar and changing it up a bit? Be original for once and decide nothing less than gentlemen will be roaming your halls. 

Whatever you do, get some new sayings. Quick. 

I skimmed the article and had to laugh out loud because I realized I needed someone to yell, "FOCUS!" At me. I think I know where Sam gets it. I'm valid. Look. 

She's making a statement. Good for you, sister. 
::dramatic throat clearing and whisper::
Honey, if you are going to make a bold statement. Go for it. Say it however you like. However, if you want people to take you seriously use proper grammar. Why the capital A? Even more pressing than the idiotic remarks from your principal? Your use of made up words in your protest signage. "Alright" is not actually a proper word. Two words: All right. 
I know what you want to say right now. You want to tell me it's in the dictionary. Just because a word is in the dictionary does not proper a word make it. 
In the same way that millions of maroons pronouncing it "expresso" is also incorrect. If you want to be a stand out, go against the flow, and make yourself seem more correct than the one you are standing against, win with your brain. Don't be the missing line from Alanis Morissette's Ironic. 

Also. Where's your shirt? 

Monday, August 25, 2014

Eventful? We don't do subtle

It's as if we don't understand the meaning of the word. Calm? Plain? Neutral? We scoff at ordinary. We don't even like the word extraordinary around here because it really makes us think of the words extra ordinary. (Seriously? Who was the thinker on this word? I have never understood it). 

First of all, it's coming on fall. Oh beauty let me behold you. And let me watch You've Got Mail until I have to replace the movie because I've watched it too many times. Again. For the fourth time. WHAT?! It's really great. Kathleen Kelley is my family. Like her, I like to begin my sentences as if we are already in the middle of a conversation. 
Like her I love bookstores. Like her I love Pride and Prejudice. I too get lost in the language. Thither is where you'll find me. Watching this movie. Again. Oh felicity. 

Anyway. My job? Great. Better than great. I love it. I'm full. Of gratitude and tasks, but hey. Full is full. Always better than empty. Which is actually how I felt tonight when I talked to my husband. We said our "love yous". We chatted about business. I may have even spouted a catchy verse of I miss you I miss you, I really wanna kiss you". Then I had the feeling that I had something else to tell him, but instead, I suddenly declared "nope. That's it. I'm empty." And I meant it. Where the knowledge of these words which I type is coming from I know not. See? Empty. 
But it's because my brain is taking ion just. So. Much. 

New jobs take a while to settle into. New co-workers. New bosses. New expectations. New room. New students. New paperwork. New routines and schedules and people needing you. New. 
I'm getting there. I'm not the furthest behind, so I will say I am winning. Except that it's 9:40 pee em and I'm falling asleep while I type and wishing one of my  kids would get out of bed and turn off my bedroom light and brush my teeth. And since they are here, brush and floss my teeth. 
Did I mention we are house hunting? That's simple. No emotion. Not at all time consuming. 
I lied. In that last paragraph. Sorry about that. 
We are in fact house hunting. But the rest is just false. 
So completely off. 
It's consuming. I don't want it to be. But I think I'm a junkie. How can I not be when all of my house is packed and we are just waiting for the words "we accept your offer and we would LOVE to pay your closing costs." My movies? Packed. 
Ok. Not You've Got Mail. What are you, nuts? 
New job. New house. New neighbors. Go big or don't stand near me. 
"TALL. DECAF. CAPPUCCINO." 

*these pictures have zilcho to do with this post. We do baseball. Thought you'd like to know. 

Monday, August 18, 2014

Working Mamma

Yep. I'm one of those. But there is something in my brain that won't even let me think it. I still picture myself as a stay-at-home mom. When someone asks what I do, my instinctive response is to say I'm a stay-at-home mom.
Anyone else have this problem? It's like I am seeing myself as I used to be.

Like that one time I was kind enough to take the time to make this new lady at church feel welcome. I said hello and struck up a cordial conversation. We totally hit it off, and then she said what everyone says when they talk to me for more than eight minutes, "Wait. You have FIVE kids? How old are you?" To which I quickly responded, "19." Uh. What? To which I even more quickly said, "Uh. No I'm not." I had a conversation with myself while she stood there confused. I am pretty sure she thought I was drunk, a wee stoned, or simply a liar. There's a chance she won't be coming back to church for a while.
Ok, so just me then. Great.
Well, this blog has been through a number of mini-makeovers, and I am hoping to add a new element now. I am a worker bee now. I am a worker, and I have no idea what I am doing. Won't you join me to watch the calamity?

Follow my board on Pinterest: Working Mom Survival.
Follow Shontell's board Working Mom Survival  on Pinterest.

Don't pay any attention to the couple of misplaced pins. I often do my pinning at 3 aye em. 

Saturday, August 09, 2014

UP.side.DOWN

That's the weird that has been my life for the past 20 days. Most (all three of you readers) of you know The Man was threatened with another layoff this past spring. Really? What else have you got wonder boy? The devil is sheer silly.
Anyway, they postponed it. Don't ask what that means. We don't know. We don't speak corrupt city council. Anyway, the judge seems to be on our side (the logical side), and he is still working as a fire fighter. Thanks, Lord. We appreciate your provision.
For the past 14 months, I have been the director of a pretty rad preschool with some of the best bosses a girl could ask for. Really. Primo.
After applying for and accepting a job in Las Vegas, and after deciding with 80% of our hearts that we were fine to move back to Las Vegas because Mike was getting a fire fighting position, we realized 20% of our hearts were hurting. So we prayed. We made one of those lists with the volley of goods and not so goods about raising our family in either city. And then, we remembered why we moved from Las Vegas, and we remembered why we chose Reno. Actually, God chose Reno. And our hearts thanked him. So, we just decided. We are staying.
Instead we are putting down roots per God's instruction and later clarification. We are house hunting. 
I also got a job teaching 5th grade, and I couldn't be more thrilled. Seriously. So excited. 
I heard about the position on Sunday night. The one we just had. I was at an Elvis themed birthday party for a ten year old (who is obviously a genius. I mean. How could he not be with Elvis as his theme!!) 
Anyway. Monday morning they called me in for an interview. 
Tuesday morning I reported for my first day. 
Tomorrow my classroom should be fully decorated. 
All while maintaining my directorship, so that I could finish strong. I'm beat. I'm exhausted. I'm in the mood for pizza that I can't eat. 
Here is my class so far. 



I am just so overwhelmed at God's plan. I'm grateful that he has an infinitely better brain than I. 

Thursday, July 17, 2014

What can I do?

I don't think we ever really know what we are getting ourselves into when we say YES and take on a new task. I know I don't. 
I tend to be a grass-is-greener type oh gal. So, I appreciate that my husband chases after me shouting the logic. Anyone else here take the logic being shouted before you will listen? Yah, well. Whatever. 
I have taken on new tasks. Not today. I don't mean that sort of present tense. This one is more of an ongoing swoop where I reach my arm out and take on one thing after another. 
And many times when I repeat my life in words people say I am crazy. Maybe. But I'm not for a second going to sit by and make the smallest ripple possible. I plan to be affecting. Effecting. Affected. Infectious. 
Idle is a four letter word. At the end of this life, I want my maker to play the video of my life and say, "She did what she could." 
I'm not here to play it safe and small. I'm here to do anything to bring people closer to the truth that Christ is worth every minute of their day. 
To every thing there is a season. 
A time to stand up and shout. 
A time to lean in and be quiet. 
A time to follow the logic that begs to be heard. 
A time to put your toe in the water and walk across that dry land. 
A time to heed a friend's words. 
A time to follow God's words instead. 

I want to do what I can. What are you doing today?

Monday, July 07, 2014

Ever have those weeks you feel you need to spend a Sunday night gearing up? That's me. 
I already know I have to make play dough. But I also am scheduled to get my car in the shop. So grateful to have a back up vehicle. Carting seven kids around can get old pretty quickly. Errr. Back up. Did I say seven? 

Well yes I did. We have two extra teenage girls this week. I'm tempted to leave them pillow mints each night and never let them leave. "You know what that means? Jumbo party" 

Is there a bad time to quote Uncke Buck? I think no. 

I am on the hunt for a great salsa recipe for my Vitamix. But I'm not eating tortilla chips. My life is tricky. I've been using bell pepper wedges instead. Uh. Yum. 

I need a bathing suit top. I have the bottoms and even a skirt. The rest is arguably just as important. 
I also need to borrow my brother's projector. I need to watch the sandlot in old school perfection: hang a sheet and dangle some licorice. 

Tuesday lake day is approaching. I forgot to clean out the cooler after last Tuesday's trip. I don't want to. It's been too long. It's like that time when Nevil Longbotttom told Ron he left the howler from his gran unopened. The minutes ticked by as more badness built up. 

Ok. I know what you're saying. With the exception to the moldy howler cooler, this vacation has been goofy and great. 

Add three work schedules and two baseball games and I might just take off the my pants and call it a day.