scary santa

Just a quick note...is the Santa peeking over the side of this page a little scary? I didn't realize when I downloaded. Sorry if anyone gets spooked. Looks like Santa needs a good dentist. Whatever happened to that little elf on Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer that wanted to be a dentist? Can't he hook Santa up with a new grill? Or, is he still on the Island of Misfit Toys? HMMMM......a dollar to anyone who can come up with the name of that elf/dentist.

dollar store

I have two words for you - DOLLAR STORE. I forgot how much I love the dollar store. I can buy whatever I want at the dollar store, including a pregnancy test. However, I must pose the question: "How reliable is a one dollar pregnancy test?" Anyone out there ever used one? Just curious. Also, one dollar lingerie? You have to dig, but you will find it. I noticed a pair of blue and purple polka-dotted thong underwear (because it was hanging out of the bin of underwear, near the pantyhose! Sickos!) I guess a dollar is about as much as one should have to spend on such an article. Lastly, who wants to spend a small fortune on a wedding? For about twenty bucks, you can have it all: (except for perhaps the dress) Party favors, dinnerware, veils, bouquets, etc... Just one aisle over and you can buy your wedding night attire as well. It's a one stop shopping experience. I love it. ANYWAY...

ps - in case the self-proclaimed God of Grammar reads this - SUE ME!!!

Nighttime Shenanigans

I know this sounds "R" rated, but trust me it couldn't be further. So, you are probably all aware of my sometimes crazy nights. It has only intensified by the graduation of two of the children into teendom, one of whom gets crazy scared if he even looks at Tanner Johnson (the self-proclaimed king-of-the-neighborhood spook meister), the other of whom, let's call her "Marley" to protect her privacy, likes to wake me up to sign her French homework at midnight at least once a week, and who likes to believe that there is nothing wrong with a fourteen year old staying out till midnight on the weekends.
Anyway, so the last few weeks have been going well, with the occasional midnight snacking by he and a few visits by the headache mogul (otherwise known as Erin). So last night, I left Mike in charge of doling out the nightly medications, which I am now almost positive that he did not because of the following... at about 1:30 am, I am awakened by a very loud and persistent five year old desiring a leg rub down (which she doesn't need when she gets her meds). I get up, walk in and plonk down next to her and start rubbing. I rub until I feel like she is asleep, then go to have a handful of M&M's before returning to bed. She almost immediately senses my absence and starts yammering about wanting a drink. So , I go to the kitchen and start rooting through the cupboards to find and cup and she yells from her room "NOT A SMALL SIPPY CUP!!! A BIG ONE! (how did she know?) AND I DON'T WANT WATER OR CHOCOLATE MILK OR PINK JUICE! I WANT AN ORANGE JUICE WITH SPRITE MIXED IN, IN A LARGE SIPPY CUP WITH NO LID AND A BENDY STRAW!!!!" Whoa! Who the "H" does she think I am? A freaking COCKTAIL WAITRESS!?! She is ordering a freaking Mimosa from her bed at two o'clock in the morning! OK, I am not sure what goes into a Mimosa, but it does have something to do with orange juice. So, I bring her water in a small sippy cup with a lid. She freaks. "I WANTED A BIG CUP WITH ORANGE JUICE AND SPRITE!!" Meanwhile, Mike is laying in his comfy bed mumbling something about "Autumn, please be quiet, everyone is sleeping, do you want to come and lay by Daddy? Daddy will rub your back! Come on in and stop crying....blah, blah, blah" There is no way she can hear him because she is crying so loud, that only I can hear him and I can hear him because this is his typical behavior when it comes to Autumns nighttime shenanigans. I ask you, when will this end? When will Melissa get a good night's sleep? More importantly, when all the kids are gone, and Mike and I have separate sleeping arrangements, will I miss this? Will I ever be able to sleep for an entire night? I don't know. I don't think I want to know. Anyway, you see the problem. So, Mike is persuasive from the comfort of his warm bed, and she decides she wants to "snuggle with Daddy in his bed", which means " I want to sleep with my feet in Mommy's face all night long, and not even touch Daddy's side of the bed." So, she comes in and of course, Mike is back to sleep in like three seconds and she proceeds to make herself comfortable which means that I "sleep" with one foot on the floor no blankets to speak of.
Now, you might ask yourself, "Why doesn't she just make Mike get up and take care of it? OR "Why doesn't she just shut Autumn's door and let her cry it out?" The answer is of course that I am a push-over of the worst kind. I didn't want to bug Mike because he works so hard and he was getting up at 4AM to go hunting with his Dad. I didn't want Autumn to keep crying because, I can't stand it when my kids cry, so I will do whatever it takes. The sad thing about all of this is that I don't do it from the goodness of my heart. I do it so that the boat doesn't get rocked too much. I piss myself off. Anyway, hope you enjoyed my little tale of woe. I sure there will be more to come.

My New Favorite Words

Obagoogie - translation "oh my goodness"; origin: my one year old niece Zoey.
Little Zoey started a great new phrase as far as I am concerned. She doesn't say it much anymore, but her mother and I do. Even my children have caught on. So, whenever you see a cute baby, or a new toy, or are playing with tissue paper or tags, you need to say "obagoogie."

Scrumtrulescent -adj; translation "that is truly awesome/yummy/out-of-this-world etc...origin: Will Ferrell on SNL. My interpretation "This cookie is scrumtrulescent." I'm not really sure what context Mr. Ferrell used it in, I just thought it was a super great new word.

Fece - noun; Translation: short for "feces", or "crap" or the other really bad swear; origin: Chase Driggs. Okay,this is not my favorite word, but, it does get used an awful lot in my home by at least two of my kids. I told Chase I was going to punch him in the face for teaching my kids this little goody, however and alas, I have started using it.

Scumbaggery - noun; translation: really amoral behavior; origin; my little brother Joel. He uses this word in a sentence such as "I am tired of his outright and reprehensible scumbaggery."

So, try to use one of these words in a sentence today. It might make you or someone you love, smile.

sleep is over-rated, I hate birds and cell phones are evil

Am I right? Does anyone out there over the age of eighteen get more than 5 hours a night? I can't seem to . I have taken to the habit of playing Mah Johng (sp?) in the wee hours of the am. I am actually pretty coherent at 3:30 am. Anyway, if, by some miracle, I am asleep at 3:30 am, by approximately 4:30 am, I am awakened by nature. No, not my bladder calling, rather, the call of the wild. No, not that wild...I am talking about the five zillion feathered friends perched in the overgrowth in the creek outside my window. What in the world are they so happy about? It's 4 o'clock in the morning for pete's sake! Plus, how does a bird poop on a house window? Does the bird have Spiderman-like talents? Can it aim? I don't get it. Anyway, birds are for the birds. Lastly - I hate cell phones. They are the most evil invention yet. Do I really need to be available 24 hours a day? Huh? Do I need to talk on the phone while I am sitting on the toilet? I'll let you answer that question. Am I dead just because I can't be reached? No- I am not dead, nothing is amiss, I just don't want to talk to anyone. Don't take it personally...K I'm done

Semi-public apology

Sorry if I offended anyone with my comment on Michael Jackson. I just feel like the media hypes these things up so much that it is almost intolerable. Of course, I feel for his family and friends, but, come on...Farrah Fawcet died too, and that was barely a blip on the radar. I liked Farrah tons better. I believe I even tried to emulate her hairstyle back in the day. I never tried to emulate Michael Jacksons hairstyle, and that means something to me. Anyway - sorry about being flippant about it, I really do have feelings.

Zoning

What's up with the Facebook thing? I am so confused. So - if I make a comment on anything it gets posted for anyone to read? I don't think I like it. I am a very private and shy person. I don't want people to know stuff...okay, that may be a fib. Anyway - anyone may feel free to teach me. I don't get it.

So, what have the Wood's been up to you ask? Well, so far this summer, we have done nothing. I can't even keep my house clean! Don't ask me to do any "activities" on top of doing nothing. I just cannot do it! I have been trying to do the "zone" cleaning thing with the kids. What a joke. First of all, they all want zone 3 (the easiest one), secondly, they complain that it is unfair when they don't get zone 3 (even though we draw out of a hat), thirdly, I usually have AT LEAST four strapping young teenage boys in zone 3, so it is never clean anyway. I'm not sure I am going about this the right way...suggestions are welcome. Of course, I eventually just do all the zones because I get tired of the "zone complaints". OR, I get yelled at because my zone isn't done. My zone doesn't get done because I am getting the other zones done. Also - I am running around the town getting this and that for the 5 little royals at home. How did I get into this mess? The kids think that summer means eating out for lunch every day, ice cream runs three times a week and at least one snow cone run per week. I am totally going broke. They have also seen at least four movies just this week. If you add that all up, I am going to need a part-time job. Anyone hiring? Moving on.....

This may seem really, really harsh and judgemental, but...Is anyone out there really going to miss Michael Jackson? Sorry, that was mean. Anyway... have a good week.

I am not dead or missing...

Hey friends and family - it has been awhile. Sorry...nothing happy to say. Nothing unhappy to say either, just didn't want this to turn into a whiny blog, know what I mean? Our family has been Having lots of fun lately. St. George, boating, dance, swimming, four-wheeling, etc... Busy as ever. It is definitely true that the older they get, the busier you are. I think I spend about 1/2 of my day in the car, transporting kids. The other 1/2 trying to keep my house from becoming a dump. I have been trying to de-junk my office (thank you Lauren). It's a slow process, but I am hanging in there. I have also given up sugar and caffeine (except on those headache days.) Maybe that's why I have had nothing positive to say? Are all the skinny people out there just grumpy all the time? Maybe...I might not ever find out, but I am giving it the old college try (even though I am not in college) Anyway - here are some pics of the last few months. Enjoy!

These are the things we talk about in our home...

So, the other day, I took Josh and Erin to the library to get a couple of books. By the way, the library is awesome. I could spend hours and hours there. Anyhoo- I picked up a book called "The Agony and The Ecstasy" by Irving Stone. I was perusing it when Josh came over and snatched it out of my grasp to look at the front cover. On the cover is a depiction of the painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel showing Adam? (I'm not sure) touching the finger of God. All in all, a wonderful piece of art and probably, one of the most famous works of Michelangelo. So, Josh is looking at it and points to Adam's? "package" and says indignantly "Man, look how small they painted his wiener! They could at least have painted him with some dignity!" Of course, I fell to the ground laughing and Josh just walked away shaking his head. He always manages to say the funniest thing in the most inappropriate place. I believe he does this to test me. If I ever get the privilege of seeing the ceiling up close and personal, I may not be able to contain the giggles. We have since had a couple of discussions about that painting and wondering whether the smallness of the anatomy holds any kind of symbolism? Just something to think about.

Another funny thing with Josh. The other night he was up late trying to complete a bunch of missing assignments-why he can't just do them and turn them in on time is beyond me-and he was trying to think of something to write about in his writing journal. So, we started talking about it when a commercial for the Twilight DVD came on. Naturally, we started discussing Twilight and, mind you, the hour was late. I thought that maybe Josh could write about and discuss what someone would have to smell like in order for him to want to take a bite of him/her. We discussed, and decided that someone would have to smell and taste like a Cinnabon. What on earth is better than a Cinnabon? When ever I walk into that airport, the Cinnabon stand calls to me and I cannot pass. I must have one, come what may. This whole, freesia, lavender, flowery smell thing is just not my bag. As a matter of fact, my Grandma Kimball used to take me to the Lion House for my birthday. She always, always got some lavender flavored candies. She loved them. I choked them down just to be polite. They were yuuuuucky. So, Cinnabon it is. Anyway, these are the kinds of things we talk about in our family. Do you talk about anything weird? I'd love to know if we are the only freaks out there.

Bragging...

Just thought I would post some pictures. The first few are from our cruise A YEAR AGO. I am just now figuring out how to post stuff. The rest are from this year. Have fun looking. It's kind of scary how many pictures we have in which both Mike and I are wearing helmets.
What is it that Seinfeld says about that? I can't remember, but it's pretty funny. Anyway, sometime I will put all of the pictures of us (with helmets on) in one post.
He later got turned into a belt and a handbag.

Who let the residents out of the local mental institution?

Again with the helmets. Scary.

These two little pills wanted a snow storm inside, so they broke up a piece of styrofoam packing material and spread it around. They also decided to do snow angels. Very funny and kind of cute, but I have been vacuuming up snow for two weeks!!

Josh, Mike, Savanna, Lizzy and Erin at Brighton.

Josh being cool.

Er-Bear skiing at Brighton. She thinks she so awesome! So do I.

This is Lizzy trying to "steer" as she skis.

Thank Heaven for Girl Scouts

I have a good friend who likes to compose "Odes" to sutff on her blog. In tribute to her and to Girl Scouts around the world and in the neighborhood, I shall try my hand at the Ode. My debut in entitled "Ode to a Girl Scout Cookie". Please excuse my lack of form, I am not totally sure of the structure of an Ode, but I my world, it can be anything I want. Here goes:

"Ode to a Girl Scout Cookie"

Oh blessed Girl Scout,
selling your wares.
Cookies to to eat,
to make us look like pears.

"One box?" she asks,
With a shy, impish grin.
"How about mint?"
They're really so thin.

One look at the Scout
with hers eyes full of pleading
I fold with a sigh
"It's a CASE I'll be needing."

Months after the sale,
I've forgotten the treats.
My life is so full,
Yet, not truly complete.

A knock at the door,
A bustle, a holler!
"Mom, a Girls Scout is here!"
She needs 42 dollars!

That much? I wonder,
Then shrug and smile.
Cookies are worth it,
and these will last for awhile.

Three days later
I feel like a heel.
ONE Box is left,
I've had a one for each MEAL.

I hide the last box,
shamefaced and chubby.
I must save a dozen,
or so for my hubby.

I contemplate my days
of GSC bliss,
and wonder if there is
anything funner than this.

To eat Samoa's
all Golden and Crunchy,
to savor a Thin Mint..
there's nothing so munchy!

Today I will limit
the amount I will eat.
Three and that's all,
Then one falls at my feet.

"Crap!" I snort, and think,
"Now it's just two"
"Oh, who cares?" I decide.
What else can I do?

I retrieve the cookie
Off of the floor,
Stuff it into my face,
but now I want more!

Three cookies are not
enough to satisfy me.
Just two more,
I promise, no more than three.

So, now I am sitting
writing my verse,
When a small hand I know
pats my middle, like a nurse.

"Mommy, I really wish
your tummy wasn't so big."
I wish your were small,
Not fat like a pig."

The mouths of babes,
so honest and true.
I laugh and dissemble
No need to feel blue.

It was fun while it lasted.
No sense in regret.
Next time, I'll get TWO cases!
On that you can bet.

So what do you think? Am I a budding Robert Frost or Elizabeth Barret Browning? I think not, but it was fun to have to think for a minute. Thanks to Linda, for the inspiration.

I am a crazy nut.

Today was one of those teenager moment, mom-you-are-a-nut-job kind of days. I have been warning my Junior High students that they would indeed get theri phones taken away if, by the end of LAST week, all of their grades were better than "C's". Of course, I gave in and gave them until this Friday. Well, today I got the low-down on the grades. Let's just say that one of my teen age types thinks that "F" stands for fantastic. So, needless to say, I held my hand out for the phone. I got the now perfunctory eye-roll and murderous glare after which said teenager stomped down to his/her room to retrieve the phone. Here's where I lost it. The phone loser just could not understand why I was sooo upset about the "F". After all, he/she will certainly bring it up to at least a "C" by the end of the quarter. I have been drilling it into all the concerned children that a "C" isn't the kind of grade that will get you anywhere. From day one, the kids knew how important grades were to us and to their freedom to enjoy the good life (which by the way, we are denying them because they don't have Face Book or My Space accounts, or e-mails or access to illegal stimulants). They (the teens) tell me every day that we are the strictest parents on the planet and that we should just "chillax" on all the rules. Are we wrong to expect our smarter than ordinary kids to strive for something better than average? I don't understand the lack of concern for one's own welfare. I'll tell you this much, I am not supporting them when they can't get a job better than taking tokens at the parking booth at the airport. I will just roll my eyes and say "I told you that you should have gotten good grades!!!" Okay, I am a crazy nut job for wanting my kids to succeed. Weird. Thanks for letting me vent.

I don't wanna grow up!

Are you an adult yet? I am starting to wonder when the adult thing actually happens. I guess technically, you are considered an "adult" when you turn 18. I have heard the brain doesn't actually fully mature until around age 25. Scary thought - I had two kids by then. I am wondering about this because I have seemingly remained a mental adolescent. Last night, I ran over to Target to pick up a prescription. I had Josh and his friend Konner with me. We had some time to kill, so we started walking around looking at the stuff at Target. Josh and Konner thought it would be super fun to bounce the big beach balls around in Target while we browsed. I was sort of embarrassed, but more amused by their behavior. We sat in the garden furniture section, shooting the breeze and playing with the beach balls. Then we strolled over to the glass and breakables section to chat with some friends we ran into. While I was talking to the friends, I could hear Josh and Konner bouncing the balls through the aisles. Every once in a while, I would hear a thud or a crash or a crash and the inevitable hurried whisper and quiet laughter. I continued chatting, just sort of rolling my eyes, while the boys continued their shenanigans. After a couple more minutes I spotted a beach ball overhead and then a startling crash. Then, I heard the muted laughter and around the corner came a shame-faced Josh without his toy. Apparently, he and Konner were trying to bounce the balls high enough to land on top of the floor lamps that were on display on the top shelf of the aisle. I guess a target "security guard" caught them and confiscated the beach balls. Now, the disconcerting part of this story is that I found the whole thing quite hilarious. I laughed my guts out. What is wrong with this picture? The next thing I know, Konner is handing me a box of xtra large ultra ribbed condoms and asking in very loud voice if I would buy them for him. Josh was on the floor laughing and I wasn't far behind. I think I am appalled at my own self. I keep waiting for maturity to come, and I have realized that I am quite possibly less mature than I was ten years ago. For example; I still like a nice cold Big Gulp or cherry Slurpee, I love to listen to very loud music, I bought an issue of J-14 the other day and I have looked at it more than my kids (mostly because of Zac Efron), I still like to watch music videos, I sometimes don't really want to go to church, I would sleep in till noon every day if I could, I have read the Twilight series more than once and finally I have seen and enjoyed watching High School Musical 3 more than I care to admit. Also, I giggle with me kids when they do something not so appropriate in public venues. The only things that really have changed since those teenage days? I have gone from a size 4 to a much, much larger size, I am responsible for five or so other live human beings and instead of Coke, it's Diet Pepsi in my Double Big Gulp. The more things change, the more they stay the same, I guess.

And another thing.....

Warning: Please read below before you read above. It won't make sense if you don't.

And another thing....this "guy" on the phone was telling me that my claim was "coded" with a mental health code and that my insurance doesn't cover mental health issues. WHAT?!? I am so screwed. No coverage for the crazies? No wonder so many of us are wandering around with swirling eyes, dirty shirts and matted hair. No one is paying for our "Mental Health" issues. BTW - the "claim" that was denied was the one that found us in the ER with Erin after she fainted and had a seizure. Mental health issue? I don't think so. OH-and guess what else? The Ambulance Ride was luckily covered at 90% because it was $1469.36. Oh, and I had better get that payment in ASAP (and the guy at the ambulance place said "aaaasap", didn't say A-S-A-P like normal people.) because it is past due now, eventhough I just got the bill. I wish I could run my family like this. Passive/aggressive business practices...hmmmm...wonder if I could write a book about it and make a zillion dollars. Then Erin could have all the "mental health" issues she wanted. "Hey, I don't feel like taking my spelling test this morning, I guess I'll have a little fainting spell and maybe a small seizure. Nothing major, just a small problem" Sorry - I am just kind of bugged.

Manners...a thing of the past

Where are people's manners these days? It seems like anything goes. I guess I am not the best one to preach about this particular subject, but a recent experience prompts me to be more aware of my behavior..... So, I am on the phone with this guy at the Select Med Claims Department. I called to ask about a claim that had not been paid and he went into his very complex and somewhat intimidating diatribe about deductibles and codes and stuff that really just goes over my head. Like I care anyway! Just pay the dang claim!!!! Anyway, after about 10 minutes of this one-way conversation, I'm thinking "Wow. Select Med has really got some intelligent and well versed people on staff. This guy really knows what he is doing!" Just then, the guy says "Excuse me, I HAVE GOT TO BURP" and then proceeds to belch, if not directly into the phone, then somewhere in the vicinity. Hey - doesn't this guy realize that THIS CALL IS BEING RECORDED FOR TRAINING PURPOSES!?! Is this what they are training people to do now? This infraction should at least entitle me to having my claim paid post-haste!!! All credibility went out the window. Come on, burping into the phone? Next thing you know, he will be saying something like, "Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth." or maybe "Wow, that was a stinky one." Now, like I said, I am not really one to talk about manners; I know how loud and obnoxious I can be, however, I would never (purposely) belch into someones ear on the phone (unless it was one of my brothers on the receiving end.)! Not to disparage my children at all, but the other thing that bugs me is the public flatulence so often demonstrated in my family. When did it become socially acceptable to fart in front of others? My children are actually quite proud of their accomplishments in the gas-passing arena. My son's favorite saying is "Everyone likes their own brand." Who is his mother? What has society come to? I am seriously disgusted.

random pics

Just some random pics. I am trying to learn my camera, but it is a lot harder than it looks to take really good pictures. I wanted to show off my kiddos a little bit, too. Josh and Carley are going to complain bitterly about the lack of pictures of them when they are older. They will not let me take pictures of them! It's frustrating. Erin is starting to get camera shy now that she has her braces. I get lots and lots of pictures of Lizzy and Autumn. They are always jumping in front of the camera. Anyway, enjoy.

snow angel

This is my surprised face.

This is my sad face.

Crazy Kim and Carley

Happy New Year!!!!!

my little eskimo!

the hair - yikes

Aunt Emily and cousin Tyler (the menace)

Erin and cousin Savanna - bff's

Lizzy and cousin Colton - my personal favorite photography subjects

New Feature on the Blog

I have included a new feature on this blog. I will be listing all the books I read and some that Mike or the kids read with our insight(s). I just wanted to keep track of the time I waste reading trash. Mike and the kids are much more discriminating. If anyone has any suggestions for reads that are not to deep, yet not too stupid, please feel free to suggest...And if anyone of you says "The Scriptures" I will have to kill you. Just kidding...those are daily (or sometimes weekly) thing.

two 1/2 weeks later....

Finally - back into the routine of school. I'm truly sorry if I scared anyone with my last post. But, it was either rant and rave, or end up in maximum security at the point. Thankfully, there are those out there who commiserate. Thanks for all your support. Moving on....Guess what?!?! Mike and I were asked to be Ma and Pa Kettle for trek for our stake. Yikes! I will be suffering along with the Vaders and the Arnells, who are also going. I am already plotting some strategies as far as smuggling contraband and we have scoped out the situation with the children. Admittedly, I did squeeze some bi-ceps this last Sunday and made some mental notes as to who had really strong looking calves. The following is list of items I will be sewing into the lining of my dress - like anyone is going to question if I am following the rules:

1. my ipod
2. unisom tablets
3. toothpaste
4. heart rate monitor (I have to know how many calories I am expending)
5. feather bed (not quite sure how this will look, but am willing to give it a g0)

These are the things I cannot live without. I will even fore go bringing deodorant, if I can have my ipod. I don't think the Pioneers would even think to begrudge me my luxury items. After all, and ipod is so small...it can't weigh more than a few ounces. It's not like one little ipod will deter us from our journey. Mike would also like to smuggle, however his list is quite a lot shorter:

1. Duct tape

Do you know what can be done with duct tape? I believe someone wrote "10,000 uses for Duct Tape." They probably don't even know about the existence of Pioneer Trek! We could probably come up with at least a thousand more uses!! Maybe we will write a book at some point entitled "What You Can Do With a Roll of Duct Tape, One Hundred Feet of Rope, Four Blue Tarps, Ten Kids and the Great Outdoors" I know we would sell at least ten copies. Anyway...

Someone mentioned that we will be able to pick our family name for the trek. The person who said this had some sappy story about walking in the footsteps of this really awesome family/person and that this person was an inspiration, blah, blah, blah...I'm thinking we need to pick a name a bit more relevant to this day, to this generation, to inspire us all to continue on. The following is a list of my top five...I am taking comments and/or votes.

1. the Steelflex Family
2. the Diddy's
3. the Seacrest Family
4. the Jonas Family
5. the Palin Family

Suggestions will be considered.

Hope you are well and happy and that life is treating you well - if not, blog about it and get it off your chest. See ya!

please hit me over the head with a blunt instrument

Is the title too harsh? I don't want to die, just be in a coma for 24 more hours. Is that wrong? "Having your children home for five weeks during the middle of winter" is the official Websters definition of the "Seventh Circle of Hell". I literally went in to survival mode today. Half of the day was spent sequestered in my room trying to conjure up mental pictures of a happy place. I also forbade my kids to speak to me, or look at me or be near me in any way. I have finally lost it. If I hear the phrase "that is MINE!" one more time, I shall get in my car and drive to Tooele. Now, if that isn't desperation, what is? Ok, I truly and unconditionally love my kids, but this is just ridiculous. The high point of my day was when the dentist had his instruments of torture in their mouths. I smiled happily and mindlessly watched the tropical fish swim in the aquarium while they squirmed and wiggled and got poked and scraped. What is wrong with me? I am never requesting "A" track again. Is any of this even making sense? Am I babbling? Please let this day end!!!!!! I know, waaah waaah waaaah. Just had to get that off my chest! So how are you? Are any of you fairing any better, and if so, what is your secret? I don't want my children to be afraid to go off track. Please help......

what dreams may come

I recently read my friends blog recounting a dream she had had . Something about polygamist midgets. Now, I'm not sure if this was a real dream or a reference to some inside joke, but it got me to thinking. I am somewhat renowned (at least in my own mind) for the weirdness factor of my dreams. My dreams are so far out that, about ten years ago, Mike asked me to please stop recounting them to him so that we could go on with life with some semblance of normalcy. It is a touchy subject. However, I have made no such promised to you all...sorry. Maybe this is the perfect outlet. Maybe there is a Joseph out there somewhere that can interpret? So last night's dream...

First of all, Mike has left me (hence the aforementioned moratorium request) all alone with 5 children to raise.

Second; our ward has split, but only a select few homes on Midas Ridge. I am now in a random ward four cities away which also includes my parents and some other weird people.

Third; the first Sunday in the new ward, we walk, through the snow, through a high-rise office building that is being gutted out, with my new male chaperone (not companion, chaperone) & my five kids, three of whom are not wearing coats or shoes and have brought boxed lunches to church (which is actually eerily similar to the Stake Center I attended to in Chicago as a child.)

Fourth; in an attempt to spice up sacrament meeting, the Bishop has turned the chapel into an exact replica of a circus tent, complete with pomp and circumstance, performers, animals and Brother VanNoy as the Ringmaster dressed in a yellow and orange tuxedo singing something about a banana (anyone see Americam Idol this week?)

Fifth; there are chickens and ducks flying about, some sort of feline stalking the pews and Brother VanNoy leaping from pew to pew, announcing "Please prepare for the sacrament, come one, come all ! Please prepare for the sacrament!"

Sixth; my chaperone, five kids, parents, two sisters-in-law and assorted others members are in the cheap seats in back (which are on risers) blissfully eating our PB&J's while watching the excitement.

Seventh; Suddenly we are the beach next to the gutted out high-rise, but the beach is closed to public access because some corporation is having an event. The security for this event are all east Indians. End of dream.

Weird? Psycho? Abnormal? Or did I just swallow to much Nyquil on Saturday night? You be the judge.

Ben Button is hot, teenagers are snot and 4 year olds are caught.

Let's address first things first. I know that this blog is supposed to be about the Wood Family. Who's kidding who, right? It's really just Melissa whining and complaining and commenting on her own thoughts and feelings with a little bit of family trivia thrown in for good measure. (Makes me seem more motherly). Now that we have that established, let me just say BRAD PITT IS SO HOT!!!! I don't know why I never really saw it before. Well, he did look pretty cute in Thelma and Louise...Obviously, I went to see "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, rated PG 131/2. This is not a movie I would send any of my kids to, just so you know. So, I am watching this movie with some friends. About half-way through,when Ben Button is at his hottest, one of the friends looks at me and says "Damn that Angeline Jolie" I said "Amen to that". So not fair. Does she really deserve him? I mean, come on, she has multiple tattoos. Isn't that some sort of indication of the kind of person she is? I bet she doesn't even really like all those kids of hers. They are probably just for show. And, I bet she totally rides roughshod over Brad , like 24/7. Man... Okay, you all know that I am just kidding and I am just messing around about Ang and Brad. I guess I'm just trying to say that Brad is very handsome. Glad to get that off my chest.

Secondly - who invented teenagers? I know that I have complained multiple times about them and that I have been banned from "dissin'" them on this blog, but HELP! I am going out of my mind. They drive me crazy!

Thirdly - Autumn got caught with one of my non-shredded garments tops! As some of you may know, she likes the feel of the garment top, specifically the lace around the arm holes. She often times will have a cut-up one in her possession. Kind of like a blanket would be to a normal child. It is a comfort to her. (Am I saying too much?) Anyway, so that I don't end up in h-e-double hockey sticks, I cut up some of the older, non-useable ones for her to cuddle with at night. Well, the other day, we stopped at the bank of gumball machines in the mall. She insisted on a pink gumball, and was ready to fight if she didn't get one. She of course, had her blue denim purse and her pink Dora sunglasses, because that's what you need at the mall. Anyway, she said she had a "penny" to get some gum with in the bottom of her purse. When I went to help her open it, to my utter dismay, she had a full on, non-cut-up "g" top in her purse, along with a Disney Princess cell phone (complete with cover), chap-stick, nail polish, assorted small action figures, a naked Bratz doll and some marshmallows. Needless to say, she was caught red-handed with the goods. What do you do in this situation? I had to laugh. She looked up at me through those rose-colored Dora the Explorer sunglasses with a pleading look in her eyes, and I just couldn't be mad. Perhaps I should move my collection of the aforementioned articles of clothing to a location out of her reach! Hmmmm....that would require me to have a project. I'll think about it.

Have you ever noticed that I don't say too much about Erin and Elizabeth? I really don't mention them very much. Probably because, as of right now, they are behaving really well. Of course, there are the occasional outbursts and fights, but they really don't bug me or frustrate me or cause me any kind of grief. At least not out-of-the-ordinary kind of grief. I am sure that I can find something to complain about in the future. Well, have a great week! I hope your New Year is going well! See ya...

P.S. I really do love all of my kids dearly.
P.P.S I really do think I could love Brad Pitt!