The Internet is full of options.

Ava turns 8 (!) this week. She wanted to have a pool party this year, so I will spend the whole week praying for good weather on Saturday. Cause if it's raining, I'll have 14 little girls running around my house. Do you remember the last time that happened? Unless you've been reading this blog since the beginning, you might not. (Hi, Mom!)

When Ava turned 6, she wanted a tea party, so I invited all the little girls in her kindergarten class and a few others over. I had it all planned. But then, it was such a hot day. Hot, like hotter than the pit of hell hot. Way too hot to have all these little girls drinking tea in my living room--it was seriously 90F in my house. (I analyze it as if it were a military op here.) So we moved everything into the downstairs office, which was slightly cooler. The girls had fun, but it was so chaotic and frenzied--all of them crammed down there--that I forgot to bring out Ava's birthday cake. Did you catch that? It was a birthday and we forgot the cake. If you've ever wondered what kind of mother would do that, well you've found her. But I mean well, really I do.

For the pool party this year, I had this idea that as a craft, all the girls could decorate a pair of flip flops (thongs to my Aussie readers, jandals to my Kiwi readers, --what does everyone else call them?) I'll just say flip flops, cause it just feels wrong to talk about 2nd graders decorating thongs. I'm sure you understand. I thought this was a cute idea, so I've been on the hunt for super cheap, really basic rubber flip flops. But in my usual fashion, I have waited until the week before. I am that kind of mother, too. Ava and I went to a big market today--the kind of place where vendors set up and sell everything from mangoes to knee socks to fake Louis Vuitton bags. It was fun to walk around, but in all that, we didn't find what we needed. Kmart had them, but I wanted to find them even cheaper.

When we got home, I looked around online for places I could maybe order them wholesale. I found a few leads. But what I wanted to show you was a couple of entries I found on this one website. It's basically a listing of all kinds of different manufacturers in China that you can order direct from. I clicked on the photos I'm about to show you cause initially they looked promising, but--well now I'm not so sure.

This one is just one of those obvious mis-translations into English. But it made me laugh, cause what do you think they were going for?

Oh, those lovers of men and women who drag beach slippers. Such procrastinators! You just can't guess what they'll do next. Especially when they're contracted.



Look, only $1.58 a pair!! Now we're talking. They're plain too, so better to decorate. But, oh--hmmm, apparently it will cost me almost $800,000 to ship them here. Maybe there are, like, trained talking dolphins guided by mermaids that are bringing them over? Maybe, instead of those styrofoam peanut things, they're packed in yellow diamonds? Cause I can't work out why it would be that much. Have you ever? I can't even. Maybe it's a typo? Jason said maybe they're trying to scam someone, but is anyone that stupid?

My heart(and my search) will go on. I do this every year--tell myself I'm gonna keep it simple, and then I keep thinking of one more thing that would be fun, or 2-3 more people to invite. I wish I was one of those people that can just throw an amazing party together with minimal effort--like, oh I just had all this stuff laying around the house! I just opened my craft closet and grabbed a few things! And then I had time to get my nails done to match the napkins! But, I'm not. I love hosting people, but I always end up spending much more time preparing than I think I will. I enjoy it, though! But we've got several other things on this week, and I'm speaking at a women's meeting on Friday night, so I'll be getting ready for that, too. Should be interesting! Remember Nate's astute observations on polygamy? This is one of those weeks that a sister wife might come in handy.

I used to cry. But now I hold my head up high.

This is one of those days where you are ready for bed by 9pm. Nice but busy!

Today I went to a Fundraising Breakfast for breast cancer research. It's organized and hosted by a neighbor of ours who has survived breast cancer--twice! Their kids go to school with our kids, and I've really enjoyed getting to know her a little over the years. She is someone who, to me, seems like a real grownup. Do you know what I mean? Someone who gets things done and makes things happen. I don't always feel like a grownup in that way. But enough about my issues.

They did a great job with the breakfast--it was really fun. Full of auction items, and gift bags, raffle prizes, fashion shows, and ladies all dressed in pink. Did you know 1 in 11 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer by the time they're 70? I've heard that before, but it just stuns me anew every time I hear it. Obviously, with what Becky has been through, the issue hits a little closer to home now.

Of course there were lighter topics as well. The ladies I was sitting with taught me a lot about laser hair removal! So that was something. Also we shared our rodent woes. It made me feel better that I am not alone in my struggles with *creatures*. My neighbor's husband had to dye his hair pink--he'd pledged to do it if a certain fundraising goal was met. Actually, it suited him quite well. Magenta can work on a guy. I'm telling you--I have seen it! I found a lady to make Ava's birthday cake, I donated some more money for breast cancer research, and I ate some chocolate. A successful morning!

But. I was secretly hoping to win one of the big raffle prizes. There were some good ones! But alas, my name wasn't called. Well, that's not totally true. I did win a bottle of wine, which was nice, though I'm not a big wine person. Whine? Yes. Are you the person who always wins raffles? I think some people just seem to win them more often, though I know that can't be true mathematically. As that one Barbie said, "Math is hard!" Don't confuse me with the facts! I think some folks are just prone to winning those types of things. Are you?

After this, Ava and Nate both had birthday parties to attend. At the same time and taking place in opposite ends of town. Of course. Then, tonight we went to a party. The kids played and bothered the dog, they rolled around in the grass, they all cried at one point or another. Then we played karaoke and I sang "I Will Survive" . I'm sure this doesn't surprise you. And you know what? It felt pretty dang good.

This, my Internet companions, is what I have for you today. A tale of pink hair and statistics, of bush rats and raffle prizes. Of grass-covered kids and disco hits. Sometimes you write the blog, sometimes the blog writes you.

(I don't really know what that means. It sounded like a good ending, though. In theory.)

No real cohesion

You guys as I write this, it's approaching 11pm on 11/11/11. There are a few neighbours around us having parties tonight...I'm not sure if that is just because it's Friday night or because of the date. But I did hear a few high schoolers at the gym last night talking about going to an 11/11/11 party. So is this a thing? I mean, I get why it's cool--this date won't happen like this for another hundred years and all; just like 10/10/10 and 09/09/09 and--shall I keep going? But is there some kind of numerological significance to the date?

Ah--it's just on 11 right now and I hear cheering. Kind of like New Year's. So my theory is correct! It IS an 11/11/11 party. I feel validated. THis is like live blogging, isn't it? Are you excited?

Tonight Jason and I watched Crazy Stupid Love on iTunes. Have you seen it? We really enjoyed it. Sweet and funny. But I will watch anything with Steve Carell in it. After the movie, we were scrolling through the other movies for rent. I told Jason that while he was gone, I spent a long time one night just scrolling through iTunes, watching previews. Lots of different previews. He laughed at me. "You just watched previews?" he said. I think he thinks there's something sad and forlorn about that. That I'd sit there, alone, watching tons of movie trailers and never picking a movie to watch. Well, I happened to really enjoy myself. Is that sad?

Then, I said I was kind of hungry and Jason said he could go out and find us some really good hot dogs somewhere. Then we both remembered that you can't really get good hot dogs in Australia. At least, not what we think of as good. Now that was sad. Great burgers are hard to find too. This one time, I was really craving a cheeseburger. And we drove 45 minutes in late afternoon traffic with the kids to this one place we thought would have really good ones. It was stressful getting there. But it looked like an old fashioned 50s diner, so they're gonna have good burgers, right? Guess what they had. Meat pies. Most Aussie things ever. Nothing wrong with a meat pie, but when you want a burger, a steak and kidney pie or whatever ain't cutting it.

We talked about that for awhile tonight, and hot dogs too. Is that weird and/or sad? I thought maybe the conversation about food and cravings was symbolic or something. I mean, we had just watched a romantic movie together and we were snuggling on the couch. But no, I think we were actually talking about hot dogs. That's okay, isn't it? People do that, right?

Then I said, well I can't have a hot dog anyway right now, cause I only have a few calories left for the day. That chicken kebab at dinner almost did me in. (I'm counting calories right now, you see. But don't worry, it's healthy.) And then he said, oh yeah. Then I sighed, and that really was sad.

I'll close with some other things I do that are probably sad:
--Hide in the pantry to eat sometimes so the kids won't ask for some.
--When I workout, I imagine myself performing live a lot of the songs I listen to on my iPod. I'm being serious. I'm embarrassed to admit this. But I picture myself on the stage singing for an audience. Yeah. That happens. Sometimes I sing outloud a little, accidentally.
--I pretend to be on my phone when I walk by solicitors at the mall. Because, no, I really don't want to buy salt scrub from the Dead Sea, but I have a hard time telling them that. I have had some very involved imaginary conversations.

I could go on, but I think I'll stop there. Before you lose all respect for me. See, these are the things revealed when one is blogging everyday. I feel cleansed. You know, if you wanted--you could share the sad things YOU do. But only if you want.

Are you doing anything fun for 11/11/11? Gifts? Parties? Decorations?

I guess I like to live on the edge

If you've been reading along for awhile, you know that I sometimes take covert pictures of people making, well, interesting fashion choices. Here's the guy with the most amazing feathered mullet I'd ever laid eyes on. And here is a young man who treated me (and the rest of the food court) to a generous view of his boxer briefs. Becky does it too. So maybe it's genetic? All I know is that when I see something that strikes me as really funny, ridiculous, or just weird, I have this urge to capture it so I can show people. I guess I'm not the only one who does it...isn't that why YouTube was invented? Oh, and People of Walmart--what a treasure trove that site is!

Anyway, when the kids and I got to the airport yesterday, we had some time to wait around. As we stood in the Arrivals Hall, I noticed the gentleman next to me was wearing a very spiffy get-up.

Ah, yes. The tuxedo T-shirt really is a versatile article of clothing. It says, "I recognize the solemnity of this occassion, but I still like to have a good time." It says, "I'll acknowledge social conventions but I won't be manipulated by them." It says, "I can begin the evening with Moet, but I'll end it with Pabst Blue Ribbon."

This man wasn't the "type" in my mind though, to be wearing one. I'd always thought of the tux T-shirt being more suited (if they're suited to anyone) to young dudes who are trying to be ironic. But this guy was not ironically wearing this shirt. No sir. It was crisp, his black trousers were pressed, his shoes polished--he was dressed, y'all.

I was determined to get the shot, but I had to be careful cause he was like 6 feet away. I totally have respect for those wildlife photographers now, you guys. Cause this stuff ain't easy. I pretended to texting on my iPhone for AGES until he turned the right way and I could take a picture. Then Ava saw it and said, "Hey, why did you take that?" "Oh," I said, "I must've accidentally pressed the button." I am trying to keep this from spreading to the next generation, you know.

Under one Roof and also No She Didn't.

Jason and Grace arrived home this morning--finally! Jason scored like, infinity points by making the trek across the Pacific with her on his own, and then not even complaining about it once he got here. I mean, I've done the solo trip with kids, but I'm always sure to get credit for it after. Because of me being immature and all that. So, for those of you keeping score at home, he wins forever.

Look at this, though. As a parent, this is absolute gold. Gold, I tell you!

Grace was positively giddy to see her brother and sister again. And they were thrilled to have her back, too. As I watched them hug each other, I couldn't help but think of Becky's post from yesterday about siblings: how they will be each other's longest relationships, that they'll know each other in ways no one else will. That there's such a potential for rich friendship there. Lord, help us not to screw this up.
Well. Before I get all verklempt on you, I have to tell you something that happened on the plane. But first I'd like to preface it by saying these things: What the? People are--. I can't even--. Okay.

We've travelled a lot our children. Like, a lot. At least 5 overseas trips and countless domestic flights around the US. The technical term for people like us is, I think, Gluttons for Punishment, or maybe Total Idiots. But that aside, Jason and I both are extremely conscientious about how our kids behave on planes. To the best of our abilities, we try to keep them quiet, contented, and entertained--all while striving to create the least amount of disturbance possible. I should have some kind of graduate degree in Carry-on Bag Packing For Toddlers. I can say that without bragging because I've been on enough flights with others who aren't as careful with their kids to know that it's just the truth, straight up. Of course, that doesn't mean our kids are perfect on long flights. Far from! But we try. And what else can you do, amirite?

Anyway, Jason and Grace had been on the flight for a couple of hours. It was well past midnight LA time, but she hadn't gone to sleep yet. He said that she was happy, though. They were chatting back and forth, and she was watching a movie. He said she made one loud sound--a happy exclamation at some point--but that was it. He was just trying to keep her calm and occupied until she would finally fall asleep.

So the girl in front of them turns around to Jase. He said she was younger, maybe in her early 20s. She looks at him and says, "Um, we're gonna try to sleep now. So if you could please keep the noise down."

Jason is telling me the story this morning and I am all, "No. She. Did. Not." And he's like, "Oh, she did!" "What did you say?", I said, "Did you punch her? Did you punch her in the throat?" (Probably, people in my line of work aren't supposed to think or say things like that. But I is what I is.)

He said to her, "Excuse me?" He said he kind of laughed, it caught him so off guard. Like, "Oh, why didn't I just think of this before? I can just have my 2 year old be quiet! Gosh, thanks for the tip, clueless twit!" Then he said to her, "Look. She's 2 years old. If all she does is make that little noise and talk, we will be very, very lucky. Turn around and mind your own business." (Okay he didn't say that last part. But I'm pretty sure the meaning was conveyed.)

So again I say: What the? People are! I can't even! I have kind of a temper about things like this, so it's probably a good thing it wasn't me on that plane. But unfortunately I never think of the right thing to say at the right time, so I would've spent the rest of the flight stewing about it!

But no matter! They're home now and all is well. But would you think less of me if I told you that I kind of CANNOT WAIT till that chick is making her first trans-oceanic flight with a toddler? Pop some popcorn!

--P.S. I'm not sure why Blogger is putting all these giant spaces between my paragraphs. Sorry for all the gratuitous scrolling required.

Something to be said for knowing your weaknesses.

My friend Robyn just ran and completed the New York City Marathon this weekend. Robyn is a pediatric nurse and a mother of two young girls. And she found time to train, qualify and then run the NYC Marathon. Not to be outdone, I succeeded in eating too much candy corn this weekend and watching some really lousy old movies. (Don't watch Sliding Doors. Not worth it.) So, there's a lot there to feel good about.

I really like the idea of being one of those people, you know? Not neccesarily a marathoner, but someone who can just push through the pain and be determined to succeed no matter what. But I just don't think I am. I will push myself to a point. And then I'll be all, Hey, you've done pretty well. There's no need to be excessive! Let's go read a book.

This is probably why I ended up with Jason. If you haven't read my post about our differing views on sports, check it out. He played pretty much every sport ever invented, and was good at everything. Here the phrase "opposites attract" comes to mind, as I can manage to fail pretty spectacularly at any physical endeavor.

When we do premarital counseling with engaged couples, we often talk about recognizing your partner's different philosophies surrounding challenges, change, or hard times. The story we always tell is about an Ultimate Frisbee game Jason and I played once. We were playing against another couple in a local park. I wasn't too keen on playing, but I was trying to be all, "Yeah, I'm totally sporty. I got this." But after about 10 minutes of playing and constant running, my side started to hurt. Well, that wasn't fun. So I stopped running. "I think I'm done now. I don't wanna play anymore," I said, panting.

Jason looked at me and bless him, his jaw literally dropped. "What? You're just stopping?" "Yeah," I said, "I'm tired. Let's do something else." And it was like he could not compute the idea that someone would do that. It was like in A League of Their Own, when Tom Hanks moans in disgust, "There's no crying in baseball!!"

"But-but we're in the middle of the game! You can't just stop cause you're tired! Everybody gets tired, you just have to keep going." And as surprised as he was at my quitting, I was surprised that it bothered him so much. It simply hadn't occurred to me that that was a strange thing to do--quitting in the middle of the game. For me it was just like, this is supposed to be just for fun, this isn't fun anymore, I'm out. "But I don't have to keep going," I said, "I don't wanna run anymore."

Hee hee. Yeah, so that was a little moment for us. One of those times when you expect someone to be on the same page as you are, and they are totally not. That moment has been repeated in many ways throughout our relationship. I am trying to develop more perseverance and determination--not just in physical stuff, but elsewhere too. But really? I'm not sure I'll ever be much like Jason--or Robyn. I mean, I do have backbone--but I think it is mostly comprised of candy corn. Or cooked pasta. But if you wanna hang out and read gossip magazines together? I'm your girl.

Robyn, good onya girl! You're my hero. And now I know whom to call next time Jase wants to play Ultimate Frisbee.

Y'all Wanna See a Cool Lizard?

Duh, of COURSE you do! I've noticed this little guy hanging out near our driveway for the past few days, and today the kids and I managed to get a few pictures. I'm sure, that to people who've been here all their lives this is no big deal. But I'm always amazed that there are these big ol' lizards and exotic birds just hanging out near my house.
He's (She's?) pretty big...about 2 feet (60cm) long, I'd say. My extensive research tells me that this is a water dragon. But I'm not positive...maybe someone in the know can help me out?

I always have a hard time identifying animals by their photos. I would be a terrible eyewitness to a crime. Like, "Well, he sure looks like the guy who robbed the bank, but the guy I saw was three-dimensional, and existed in space and time. This guy in the mug shot is flatter, somehow."

I know that is so random, but I think about these things occasionally. And when Amy is blogging everyday, you get what you get sometimes.

Anway, despite Nate's promise to be very quiet and only whisper, and despite that whisper being louder than his normal talking voice, we managed to get pretty close to take the pictures. Kinda cool.

But remind me not to leave the front door open. By the way, I discovered a giant hole in one of the window screens today. The same window that I've been leaving open all day. I can't help but think that something has chewed a hole in it. Could that be true?? No really, could it? I'm a little freaked out.