Burning Question of the Week #6

Let's push the rewind button for a bit.......zooming back over spring hikes, Grandma and Grandpa's may visit, yucky april snowstorm, valentines, christmas, thanksgiving(yum),.....etcetra etcetra.....long road trip, three weeks of packing, kids in utah.....ahhh here we are.... laboring with Jace. June 2007. We'll start there. So I'm on the edge of the devil hospital bed (what the h*%$#? why would a bed be so excrutiating?) in deep painful, mind numbing labor waiting for my best friend, my hero, the only person I want to see at this point, yep Mr. Anesthesiologist. He finally arrives to slay the horrible dragon of my pain with his hideously long needles and bottles of iodine.
Dear, dear, wonderful man. He is short, bald, hairy knuckles....let's just hope those knuckles have some serious experience here. Which, as the polite conversation soon reveals, is exactly the case. It seems Mr. Anesthesiologist has just returned from Afghanistan, (this is an Army hospital experience mind you, ps thus the swearing) and has been doing this sort of thing long enough to put my jumpy heart at ease.
So as the good Dr. is poking around my back he keeps making funny questioning noises. You know like "hmmmmm" or "interesting" which I'll admit I'm kind of ignoring and thinking "let's get this show on the road eh!" and then finally he says, " Do you work out alot?"
Which is the last thing I expected to hear as an extremely chubby pregnant woman. Mike snickers under his breath. Then remembers where we are and whose fault that is and apologetically strokes my arm. So I say, "umm I walked alot in my pregnancy.... I lifted 5 lb hand weights a couple times." I left out the embarassing pregnancy salsa video I bought on Amazon, no one with 8 lbs of fat and baby up front should be doing the salsa.
And he says, " I mean do you lift heavy things alot?" Well my babies are always fat, I'm not wussy in the moving stuff around department, I can even hold like 10 sacks of groceries in one hand if it's really cold outside.
"It's just that your back is so strong," says hairy knuckles, "You have the back of an Afghani man!" He smiles.


I cringe. "uhh... thank-you?"

Which leads me to the burning question of the week. What is the weirdest compliment you've ever received? And the person who can top that, is gonna get a good prize, and no it won't be my afghani "how to get a muscular back video."

Deep Thoughts

As soon as Mike gets home from work everyday, the boys start wrestling. My theory is testosterone is contagious.

Ode to Ben and Haley

So it's the kid brother and sister b-day today! That's right twins. That kind of gene pool makes me nervous everytime I go in for an ultra-sound! Ben and Haley are 25 now with kids and families of their own. Here's a few tid-bits about them on their big day.


Ben and Haley; mudbath circa 1989

Lilly, Scott, and Haley

Kaysen, Ben, Sarah, Kade

Haley: I don't think Haley sits very often. This summer she has run in a team relay race from Logan to Park City, taken her RN test, Been to two family reunions, organizing one......wait I need to sit for a minute.
I've always admired Haley's drive. The finish line is her goal in every task she undertakes. She's beautiful, smart, and a great mom. Happy Birthday little girl!

Ben: Ben can make you pee your pants with his wisdom and wit. Being the only boy gave him the skills to survive in a different way. We couldn't hen peck him so much if we were rolling on the ground holding our stomachs. He has worked so hard to accomplish his goals and provide for his family. I sort of picture him as a 13 year old often, it's awesome to see him as a dad. If you want to know just how rad ben is look no further than his wife, Sarah. She's rad too!

Flaws

I'm just gonna put it out there; I am vain. Really, I look in the mirror like.....hmmmm 10-11 times a day. Reflective windows, car doors (scary), and the worst, other people's sun glasses.

I slather on anti wrinkle cream, I carry around pimple cream, I shave my arms, I obsess about my waist-line, I shave my toes and my knuckles, I have offered to pay my sister to shop FOR me (she thinks I am kidding.) I think it is good to look nice and feel good about yourself, but hey kids, I'm gettin' older and it's gettin' harder.



But there are some flaws I've decided to just embrace. Stretch marks are like war wounds, I earned 'em and they make me feel tough. Gray hair? Bring it on. I'll be a silver fox some day. And uh saggy, um you know,....... oh who am I kidding, still praying for miracle lifting cream. Crow's feet? sign of a good sense of humor, and a little tubbiness in the cheeks makes your smile look sincere.


I hope Avery looks at me and learns to see real beauty, the kind that doesn't come in a jar, or procedure. Avery of course is obsessed with princesses, and would love to delve into the Bratz world, but I tell her every chance I get that Bratz are ugly. tons of make-up, fabulous highlights, bare midriffs...oh and did you notice:





Where are their noses? Seriously? Not only do I need to tuck my neck, implant silicone and suck out fat, I gotta get my nose REMOVED to be beautiful? THAT is vanity at its worst. I tell Avery they're ugly because they have no disfigurements, everything is symetrical, no slight imperfections that make us interesting, they look like perfect......... aliens.

So while I'll to continue to shop, slather, paint, pluck and shave, I'm keeping my nose....and my battle scars. And hopefully one day when Avery is looking in the mirror for the 10th time she'll stop fluffing, put down her brush and be glad for what she sees. Herself. Flaws and all.

Dear ole Dad

Happy birthday DAD!! These are pictures I stole from my sister. Dad at eight and hiking sometime in his late teens. I love you dad! Isn't he so cute!?

Signs you're a Boyle or "Ode to a branch of my fam"

Instead of chuckling, you make a noise that sounds suspiciously like the phonetical version of the letter T.

Your nose gets sweaty.

You say clift instead of cliff.

You don't believe having one arm qualifies as a handicap.

You've spent a sunday afternoon reading the national geographic, salt lake tribune, deseret news and san juan record from cover to cover.

You consider Chilicothe Missouri and Lonoke Arkansas as Mecca.

You laugh at really dumb jokes. And your not just being polite.

You've eaten 7 of Lynda's Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies, and begged for more.

You've licked Aunt Cassie's homemade ranch off your little fist.

You have really cute kids. ( I mean seriously people there is not a homely one in the bunch.)

You've wept on a golf course.

You are a genius in the fundamentals of sports but lack the ability to physically interpret it properly. (exceptions: Haley, all of us who run, and golf)

You've ever written or starred in a "home-made" play.

Summary of a Weekend

From John Adams to Abigail Adams on July 3, 1776:

"It ought to be commemorated as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one end of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Day's Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not."

Because of our glorious sunshine, regular old "illuminations" are somewhat impossible to enjoy, so I made these. And we had some "games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and Illuminations" of our own!