Tuesday, October 21, 2008

good grief

Three weeks ago Gabriel comes home telling me that this girl from the Latin American Chamber of Commerce who is originally from Honduras wanted to have us over for Honduran food when she found out I was a missionary there. Ok. Then it began. The creeping fear of meeting strangers and not knowing what to say to them and wanting to not do it and wanting to be told I didn't have to do it. A few weeks went by and Gabriel said he needed to confirm with this girl for friday because she was planning it for us and another couple. I said fine hoping someone would get the flu or something.
Thursday comes along...this past thursday the 16th... and I had had a difficult day feeling under appreciated in my world and wishing that I had a new shiny blackberry like Gabriel and new shiny clothes like my kids and new shiny skin like my kids and time to run on a treadmill like Gabriel and new shiny amazingness like everyone seems to have when you're looking around and not close up enough to realize that everyone isn't blissfully thrilled to be doing what they're doing. Anyway, I had a breakdown lying in my bed after all these random feelings of self-woe and I said to Gabriel, (while weeping) "Please just don't make me go eat pupusas with those peopuuuhuhuhuuulllll!"
Gabriel then promised he would hold my hand the whole time and every minute over 45 that we were there he would give me $10.

as any enterprising young woman would be, I was fine with that.

Friday came and my parents had the girls and we set off to the avenues to meet strangers and pretend we love them and their house and everything they make to eat and say to us like you're supposed to when you meet strangers.
We get out of the car on a dark deserted street and walk up to a dark seemingly deserted house and knock on the door which opens with no one visibly opening it.
Upon crossing the threshold the roaring screams of "SUUURPPRRRIIIISSSSEEEE! happy birthday!!!" fly to my ears....
tears, people.
tears of relief, tears of happy, tears of glad, tears of how could I not have realized I was outside my friend Marsha's house when we drove up. just tears.
Gabriel is so nice he put together a little thing for my birthday almost two weeks before my birthday thus allaying any suspicion that anyone would be thinking about my birthday at all. I wasn't even thinking about my birthday, only dinner with strangers.
but there they were....my little friends from a window of my life that I loved in college and who continue to be my dearest folks.
There was a chocolate fountain.
There was a replica of the red velvet cake from my wedding 5 years ago that I never tasted due to unforeseen refrigerator malfunctions 5 years ago.
there were presents in happy boxes from anthropologie and conversations and happiness and so on.
I seriously haven't ever really been surprised ...on purpose I guess. I even make appointments to give birth to my children I'm such a control freak....well, it worked! I was surprised. thank you Gabriel and everyone else for playing along.

Speaking of control and the lack thereof....Gabriel left the country yesterday for a week and I thought I would just jaunt over to my parent's house around lunch to see what was going on for a while before nap time here at my house would begin. We got to the garage with both cars to choose from so, of course I picked the smaller, faster one which parks easier than my bigger family one. Sharon and Lewi live 15 seconds from seat belt click in my garage to knock on their door so the girls just hopped in the car with no safety seats etc.
About 10 minutes into my visit there is a knock at the door and the across the street neighbor is telling me that they have just hit the car while backing out of their garage (and reading a note at the same time it turns out).
oh, no, not my domestic fix it anywhere car.
gabriel's car.
the foreign one with the 3 letters and the zeroes in the price any time you want to fix anything.

I park in that exact same spot EVERY SINGLE DAY! I mean every day. People park all along the street in this neighborhood every single day and I always see them....I never hit them. I never read while I back into them.
so now (see social inadequacy above) I am having to talk to strangers and work out a problem that I didn't create and it makes me sick. poor Gabriel hadn't even been gone 4 hours when his little car gets hurt.


I'm having a little problem wanting to devour my little Ruby. She is scrumptious. You know what I mean, like you get all anxious just to bite them! just eat them up! If she ever learns to say her r's I'm sure she will still be cute but something about a speech impedement and a pixie haircut and big blue eyes is driving me crazy with cuteness! "Look, mom, what aw dows twees? aw dey deciduous twees? o aw dey evowgween twees?"
good grief.
stop the madness.
so cute.

I am kind of all about minerals. Mineral powder, mineral blush, mineral foundation, minerals, minerals, minerals. so good. Also, I don't know if I've mentioned before that clinical strength deodorant is actually nigh unto a 3-d walking miracle from heaven. i mean it's not that, 'wow, my sweat doesn't smell at all' it's 'OH MY GOODNESS, I DON'T EVEN SWEAT ANYMORE!! sweat? what's that? I don't even sweat. I don't know what you're talking about.'
I mean it's called Secret but people, I am yelling it from the rooftops....stop the sweating....MAKE YOURSELF LIKE A PRE-PUBESCENT CHILD AND NEVER SWEAT AGAIN! use it. buy it. follow the instructions and change your life.


that and these little chocolate dipped Blue bunny Popsicles that come, unfortunately, in a box of 20 and I cannot get enough of them.

that and it's my birthday in 8 days.
and I can't wait till that Tinker Bell movie comes out on the 28th because I'm insane.
And I'm obsessed with Genghis Khan after watching that movie Mongol last night.
adieu, adieu
to yur and yur and yur.

Monday, October 13, 2008

16 more days

It is 16 more days before I get to the 2nd ugliest age ever invented (31 being the first, 32 being the second). 32? what in the world IS it? It doesn't relate to anything and it sounds bad. there's no symmetry in 32. I'm not saying I'm old because I don't think 32 is old, I'm just saying it's ugly. ugly, ugly.

We just spent the last 9 days with Gabriel's brother and his family who stayed with us while. We are changed Sanchezes. Sarah and Sergio (that's their names) are those people who don't ever yell. I mean never. They don't get that fire of hell look in their eyes when their children whine and act out. NO, Sarah and Sergio don't play that...they fight fire with bubbles and naughtiness with tickling. I admire most everything about them as parents. So far we have quite a few days of not going ballistic on our children and our children are quite happy and, in some cases pleasantly surprised I'm sure, that we have had a live in example of how to be better and we're practicing. I have prayed and prayed for answers to my prayers and I have been frustrated to tears with my inability to see changes or even know what else to do. Thank you, Sarah and Sergio for showing us the way. Sometimes you get feelings and sometimes you get houseguests....they're all answers.

Yesterday was major drama at the primary program. Dellah has had her line memorized for 2 months."the prophet teaches us to be honest and pay our tithing". If you know her you know that she can't stop singing EVER so she knew all the songs too. We get to church early and she's wearing her pretty pretty dress and her magenta tights and her red patent maryjanes and she goes to sit on the stand. The program starts and she's fine. I am a child of God goes off without a hitch. She goes up to do her line with her trademark impeccable e-nun-ci-ationnn and she gets the appreciative giggle that comes when folks see such a small girl with such a clear voice.
Then we get to the rest of the songs and program where it was a cattle drive to the front of the podeum every time there was a song and there was no adult regulation of size order or shoving. Little 30 pound 4 year old Dellah kept getting shoved by these 6 or 7 year old kids and even one kid who's her age and, after 2 songs behind some mean huge kid who only thinks of themselves, she totally lost it up there on the stand. She's crying and saying,'but they're pushing me and I can't see and they're just pushing me and I can't see and they keep on pushing..." you can imagine. Her sweet teacher holds her for the rest of the non-song parts and the kids get the hint, sort of, that they need to ease up on the violence. She didn't sing any songs for all the drama. We are the parents of a Primary program sub-plot in carnate....nice.
I felt this uncontrolled urge to get up and shout, "what is wrong with you people, can't you see that all these big kids are crowding all these tiny little kids who have never done this before and no one can see them?!!!! there was a stinging in my eyes and a saliva building in my mouth from the rage.
Then I decided to ignore it and tell Dellah she did great (because she did) and try to say we should be more like Jesus and forgive people for pushing us when we're 3 1/2 feet tall and they're huge and could be seen easily with no effort BEHIND the tiny kids but they didn't move because they're lame (I mean kids).
Now she says that the next time she has a program she'll wear the same dress and sing all the songs loudly. Here's to missed chances and kids with no social graces.
hip hip hooooorayyy.

down below here I have a post about my sister you should read.

thanks for playing.

genetical bliss

I have siblings. Today I would focus on the youngest sister who probably benefitted from some heretofore unknown magic available only to last children and only children (who are alpha and omega in one kid). Anyway, there's Jenny Wilson, my little sister who has always just had this no nonsense way of making stuff work. Where I would actually get distracted between getting out my toothbrush and actually brushing my teeth, she would make it all the way to the end of the process quickly and then make some gadget to have it be more aesthetic and efficient for people like me. She majored in family home and personal enrichment education at BYU or whatever they call that major that every single girl wishes she had done after she gets married and has children.
Anyway, she has this blog where you can see how cute she is and how clever and everything else. it's http://www.jwsew.blogspot.com/.
I can do lots of stuff but I can't even figure out how to change the background of this ugly blog or sew a straight line, much less set up a paypal account so you can see why Jenny is once, twice, three times a lady..

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

you're just brown

The other Sunday in church Dellah was having a relapse of her puppy/kitten phase and started licking Gabriel's hand in sacrament meeting...Gabriel looks down at her and whispers, 'don't lick my hand, Dellah, it's dirty', to which she replied, 'You're not dirty papi, you're just brown...'
This is the first time I have ever heard her acknowledge that her Papi is not white like she looks from the outside...I wondered for a second if she would be drawn to brown boys just because of her comfort level or if she would feel 'mexican' in some way and express that in some heretofore unknown way...I think it will be fascinating to watch and see what two cultures look like painted on one little girl.
As for Ruby, this is an exact quote, "Mami, do you talk Espanol?"
"Si, Ruby, yo hablo Espanol siempre"
"oh, I talk Espanol tambien, Mami...dus like yuuu"
well, sort of.

My chubbiness is grossing me out. Something has to happen where I stop eating. Death is not an option since I really appreciate living...
I just wish I had some endorphins to help me want to get some more endorphins by some exercising or something besides watching television and wishing I had endorphins...
If food would start tasting like crap it would be a lot easier but I feel so happy when I have yumminess in my tumminess...

Kinley needs to get her big stupid self off of project runway. I can't stand that girl.
I watched the John Adams HBO movie after reading the book and I have to say, I really wish people cared about America the way they used to when it was just an infant that they needed to form and help and protect. Homeboy was ugly but he was inspired.
that's fo sho.

I'm sure you've all cut your hair because you were so sick of your hair and just knew that it would look better if you cut it when all you needed to do was let it keep growing past the ugliness to get even better...
pictures from June haunt me...I should have just LEFT IT ALONE! but noooo, I had to think that I wanted Ruby's little effortless Tinkerbell situation without thinking that I'm 3 feet taller, not a blond and not 3 years old.
evil shears...
stop cutting my hairs when I open you and put you around my hairs and want to cut my hairs thinking I know better than professional hair cutters know about my hairs...turn a blunt ear, dearest shears...leave me alone...help me help myself and not be homely by being homely past the homely stage until my arrival at cute hair...
carpet you can atone for...haircuts you just lament.

On a lighter note, today was a really good day. I was saying things like, "do you need some alone time so that you can stop feeling angry?" and "you know, it hurts my feelings when you yell at me, can you please calm down and talk with words?"
look at me being all educated by nanny 911.
I hope tomorrow goes the same...it's amazing how fun life can be when you don't dislike your offspring!

ps, when there are ugly people in commercials trying to get people to buy things and stay at places by making them think that normal people buy those things and stay at those hotels, it makes me really sick because wouldn't everyone rather believe that fabulously good looking people are making the same choices as them and not that they're on par with really average/ugly people? I don't buy barbies for my children, I say positive things to my children about my own body and theirs and appreciate diversity in life but I would much rather see Brooke Shields selling Colgate than weird looking people staying at Best Western.
that's all.