I don't have wrapping skills

Anybody remember Fashion Bar?? Heidi Callies West-- I know you do! Anyway, back in the day- which was 19ish years ago, I worked at Fashion Bar (they are long gone now) Every Christmas they had free wrapping for their patrons. A cashier would call me up to the front and ask me to go wrap a present for a customer. My heart would pound...I would look around in panic for anyone else that might help me. No, just me. No one knew my dirty little secret. I was a terrible present wrapper. I would go to the back of the store and I would attempt to wrap something to make it look presentable. I'm not sure what my problem was/is. Maybe I am too spastic. Well, I really did the best I could...and it did not look so good. I could either walk out there humiliated and show them my sad wrap job or I could shove the present into a bag and walk out with a smile. I chose to walk out with a smile and the customer walked away happy. I am sure they got quite a surprise when they got home, but what do you expect for a free wrapping at Fashion Bar? Well, word got around that Angela was... let's say... challenged in the wrapping department. Whew! Fine with me. I think just being a cashier suited my skills just a little bit better.

It might have looked like this.



Maybe I have calmed down a bit or I have had a lot more practice...but, I just wrapped a bunch of presents and they look quite decent.

I've come a long way in my wrapping skills! At least, putting gifts in gift bags seems to work these days-- so, if in doubt..I can pop one in a gift bag and SMILE! Cause, smiling's my favorite.

Age to Age

I love seeing the joy of Christmas in my kids' eyes...it is just magical. It reminds me of how I felt as a kid and how thrilling it was to experience everything about Christmas.

I do miss the simplicity of those days. There were no computers, no cell phones, no texting, and no video games (well, Frogger and Pac Man- but not at home). There were not 3 remotes to turn the t.v. on! We made Justin sit by the t.v. to turn the channel when we needed him to. There were about 5 or 6 channels to choose from. Of course, I love my phone and my ipod! These are clearly wonderful inventions ...but I miss the days of sitting quietly by our record player listening to a record. It was so simple and peaceful. Our favorite was listening to Return of the Jedi- on a record!!


When I think back, my most favorite gift I ever received was my first record...that was Amy Grant's Age to Age album. It was so special and makes me teary to think about opening that on a Christmas day long ago. I guess my point is that I want my kids to appreciate the simple things...I don't want the obsession for all the new technology to take over and for them to miss out on what is truly important. This is a tough challenge in this day and age. I pray my kids will never take for granted the real meaning of Christmas...and hope that when they are grown up- that they will have have some special memories of some simple things at Christmas.











"In a little while" lyrics from the Age to Age album

In a little while
We'll be with the Father
Can't you see Him smile
In a little while
We'll be home forever
In a while
we're just here
To learn to love Him
We'll be home
In just a little while

Sex, Midgets and Tacos

I apologize for the title...it is slightly shocking, but it gets your attention, right?! Oh, I love my kids. The things they say are hilarious and shocking--hence the title.

Pandora's Box has now been opened. The other night, my nine year old, asked "the" question. Brian was nowhere in sight...I had to answer this flying solo. I am really open with my kids and we talk about a lot of stuff, but I was not quite prepared for this yet. It was a pretty detailed question. Oh dear. I do believe I fumbled my way through pretty well. I am glad it was dark because I know my face was RED! This seemed to satisfy him until the next night. We now have a nightly question and I don't seem to get as red as I did that first night. I think my favorite question so far has been, "Hey, mom, when two midgets have "the sex"..what happens to the baby?" Yay! I knew the answer to this-- thank you TLC!!


Little People Big World...they can have normal sized kids or they can have midgets too.


That gave him a lot to ponder. The next night the question was wondering if a person who liked tacos had "the sex"..would the baby like tacos?" Well, now we are getting into genetics territory here with taco and midget questions. I told him- probably, yes. He seemed relieved.


If in doubt...make tacos



I am not sure what prompted this conversation. I was trying to remember when I first asked my parents. I think I was ten and it was after a pretty intense Little House on the Prarie episode. I don't want to go into details, but it had to do with Albert, his girlfriend Sylvia and a scary man in the woods. Mom did a very good job...she was definitely blindsided as well. It seems totally appropriate that Little House was what got me thinking about the birds and the bees...it was my favorite show in the whole world. I was obsessed with it!

I had to include Albert in this picture...




I think the best thing to do is be completely honest with your kids and answer the questions in as much detail as you can muster. Otherwise, they will learn it from someone else. And the best person they can learn about um... midgets and tacos is from their parents! All I need to know about life I learned from watching a Little House on the Prarie episode.



Mandi was always Laura. I was blind Mary.. Justin was just our errand boy, fetching us apples. If we were in a good mood, we let him play the part of Albert.

Nighttime Angela

Being a night owl is a lot of fun. I get a second wind around nine at night...the downside is that I am up until almost midnight! Around dinner time, I think I am going to go to bed early! I will be exhausted around that time and I will be longing for my bed. The minute the kids are in bed...I guess that is when nighttime Angela (aka Monique- Marji has named her) gets her surge of energy. She scoffs at the thought of going to bed at nine...there is much fun to be had...blogging, facebooking, watching t.v. with Brian, cleaning (that is fun for me when kids are sleeping), sitting outside and smelling that yummy summer night air. There is chocolate to be eaten, books to be read, e-mails to write...all of a sudden I think...this will be rough on you in the morning. You better go to bed. Nighttime Angela, yells, "NEVER!" There is a constant tug of war going on every night-- who is going to win the bedtime battle?...Sigh, it is always nighttime Angela. She is a force to be reckoned with...who will stop her?? Brian has tried and failed! Morning Angela fails every night... Nightzilla is sure fun to be while it lasts...but I pay for it every morning. But I do believe that is why the Lord invented the coffee bean!

I am so thankful for coffee!



I guess that verse is true about “Even a child is known by his ways”. As a kid, (because I am obviously not a morning person) I would either be running for the bus in the morning or they would send a kid to the door to say, “the bus is here!” I don’t know of many bus drivers who would do that for a kid…thank you, Betty Golay! Interestingly enough, I did want coffee at that age- which my dad would not let me have. I must have known that this would help me out before my morning school bus run/freak out.



Speaking of being up late and school buses, when we moved to Berthoud, Co when I was 15, Mandi and I still had to take the school bus. The new house was at the end of a 1/2 mile lane. So, we would have to hoof it down this lane every morning to wait for it. Like I didn't have enough problems in the morning, now I had to leave early to make it to the bus! Yes, I was usually up late the night before and then with measuring my bangs to get to a certain height in the mornings ..I usually was running very late. One morning, Mandi yells…”we have to go now, Angela!” Oh no…we have to run! We start booking down the lane to make it in time. Now right before the end of the lane there is a little hill on the side of the road—this juts out and hides part of the lane from the road. As we start approaching that point, Mandi sees the bus and starts sprinting. I, on the other hand, decide that I am not going to make a fool of myself in front of everyone on that bus. I decide to hide behind the little hill. Mandi gets on the bus and tells the bus driver that I am right behind her. They all look. I am not there. They sit and wait..Mandi says to her, “she was right there” The bus driver has a schedule to keep and let’s face it –she is not Betty Golay. Betty would have jumped off the bus herself to find out where I was. The bus takes off, with a bewildered Mandi looking out the window. Yes, that was a shameful walk back to the house. I don’t remember if they took me to school or if I stayed home that day? I can’t imagine what poor Mandi was thinking the rest of the day…was my sister kidnapped? Or did she fall and hurt herself? None of the above. She was just hiding from the school bus. So,nighttime Angela has been wreaking havoc in my life for a long time…I definitely blame that incident on her as well. Well, I would like to say I am sorry to Mandi for that…I love you, dear sister!

This is around the time frame of "hiding from the bus"....we are all adjusting from our move from the burbs to country life in this picture! At the time that move seemed like the end of the world..but God is good! It turned out to be the best place to live!




Let’s just hope that at some point here I can win the battle and get to bed early, although nighttime Angela does give me some good stories to blog about!

Happy frolicking to all of you night owls out there!

I was born a poor black child

Okay, we all know that I really wasn't....AND I'm hoping that everyone reading this has seen The Jerk... Well, to be honest-- when I was a kid I wished I was black. Maybe it was growing up in Iowa (I heart Iowa) and seeing so much of (in the nicest terms) the same kind of people. In fact, I did befriend the only little black girl in the entire school in 5th grade. Oh, I sure loved you Annissa! (I did, in fact, have a picture of Mr. T in my locker as well)


Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I was drawn to people of all kinds of colors from way back when....I miss San Jose now and am in withdrawal from not seeing any Vietnamese people.

Well, it was my lucky day today...a new nail salon opened in Windsor and I had gone in to get a quick pedicure. You have to have pretty toes--especially in the summer. The new salon was owned by the sweetest Vietnamese lady. Yay! I'm sure she thought I was a little too smiley and a little too chatty. (Just settle down Angela) The only person available was a guy named Nam. I realize he is Vienamese too and so I start chatting him up. I only know two words in Vietnamese and so there was a bit of a language barrier. He got right to work and he also turned on the massage chair that I was sitting in. I don't think I am a fan of these kinds of chairs. It is like the most violent massage I have ever had. As I am jerking back and forth by the kneading of the chair...Nam's friend pulls up a chair next to him and they start chatting. Okay, can you say awkward? I am being pummeled by this chair, and these two Vietnamese guys are both looking at me and having a conversation in Vietnamese. Yes, just like that Seinfeld episode. Maybe I was a little too friendly with Nam? I really don't know what they are saying. I finally tell him to please turn off this chair. Ahhh...much better. His friend gets up to leave and Nam is about done with my toes. He is quite dedicated. I have never seen a nail salon technician blow on my toes before. I am hoping that he does not pass out from this. He really does not need to do this. In fact, I always feel guilty getting a pedicure. I think I don't need to have someone do this..I can do it myself. Now with the blowing on the toes-- this just is the icing on the cake. He did do a great job, although I was highly uncomfortable throughout the whole process. Tốt công việc, Nam! I think that means: good job, Nam!


Okay, these are not my feet, but I think Nam would have put flowers in if he had the opportunity.



Colorado is an awesome place to live, but I think I need more variation in color and culture. I guess I just need to travel the world...that would be exciting! And no matter where I went...I would remember my roots...the poor black child from Iowa.





I think it would be so awesome to travel to Vietnam!

joy bubble

I think t-ball is hands down the cutest thing to watch. The coach is trying to talk to the kids and every single one of them is looking off in a different direction or laying down in the outfield. Jake had his first practice last night....let's just say that the entire team (plus all the parents) know Jake's name.









The coach was having them each try a different spot. Jake was put on the pitcher's mound. He was so excited and was jumping up and down the entire time! He just did not grasp the concept that the pitcher stays on the mound. It doesn't matter where the ball was hit....Jake went after it. There goes Jake way out in left field. The coach is yelling, "Jake--stay on the mound!" Of course, he was completely focused on the ball and never paid attention each time the coach yelled this. I think he thinks you need to tackle the baseball too. Every time he got the ball he would fall on the ball and roll for a bit. (Remember the scene in Parenthood when Steve Martin is watching his little guy run up on stage and run around the play...yeah, it was kind of like this) We thought it was hilarious! They finally got him to stay on the mound. The ball comes to him. He falls on the ball, rolls for a bit and then finally throws the ball (underhand) to first base. Hey, the kid is not even 5 yet...so, I am going to give him a break.

Jake loves to bat...he whacked it pretty good.

They are all taking turns and Jake is now in left field. Oh dear...is he really doing that? He is throwing his mitt in the air, twirling and laughing. He then gets the other kid in outfield to join him. So, he is either throwing his mitt, tackling the ball, or standing on his mitt----all with a giant smile on his face. Maybe this kid is destined for football? It's hard to say on the first practice. I can say with all assurance that we won't be like the wrestler's (Emilio Estevez) dad in The Breakfast Club...

All I know is that Jake is a little joy bubble...he makes people smile. I say let him have fun and eat his cake too. Happy early 5th Birthday, Jakey!

Ode to Spring

I have such an obsession with birds. I am not sure why. Even as a little girl I LOVED them. In Iowa, in the spring and summer, there are Robins' galore and the sounds of their chirping at night is very loud. I felt like Snow White in my room a night, looking out the window and hearing them, as they got ready to go to sleep in their nests. I think Robins' are my favorite. They are more calm than other birds and they seem to have such personality.

I think I was five. I don't remember this, but it makes sense, so I believe my mom. She was watching me out the window as I played in my sandbox. All of a sudden, she sees me grab a Robin off of the fence next to me! I take off running to go show my mom. Well, the bird freaked out and maneuvered out of my death grip and flew off. Apparently, I was very thrilled with myself. Every now and then I do get the urge to grab a Robin. I am not sure what I would do with it once I got it, but the temptation is definitely there. We have a nest in our backyard now and I wish I could shimmy up the side of the house and peer in. Probably not a good idea.



Well, I hit the jackpot! My mom has a fake tree on her porch and a finch made her nest there and laid some eggs. We can peek out the window and look right in. Yes! I can now get my fix!


Seeing the flowers bloom and the Robins' building their nests makes me very happy. Probably because I know that my hibernation is about to end and my favorite season is going to begin--Summer!!

What color are your eyes?

Yep, my drivers license expired on my birthday. I had to go get it renewed. That is really a fun process, isn't it? It was about a 2 hr. wait and that was even in Loveland. In the future, it might help if they had more than one DMV person working to help people.

I had plenty of time to reflect as I sat and waited for my number to be called. I remembered when I first got my permit in Iowa. You get your permit when you are 14 there! Exciting day for sure! There was a long line behind me when I was getting my eyes checked for my permit. The lady was asking me a series of questions and then asks me another one. Although I did not hear this one as a question. I thought this is a weird thing to ask me to do. But I do it anyway. All of a sudden, I hear the lady say..."what are you doing?" I open my eyes and say, "what do you mean?" She says, "why are you closing your eyes?" I said because you told me too. She said, "I said what color are your eyes??" Ohhhhh...that makes more sense. Oh, they are green, I say. I hear snickering behind me. She sighs and give me my permit!!

Well my number finally got called at the DMV in Loveland. The lady taking the pictures was critiquing everyone that she processed. She actually said to one lady, you look much better in this one. You didn't look as good in your last license! Haha.. funny. Oh, but I'm next. What will she say about me? She takes my picture. She looks at it. Yeah, um.. that's okay. Whew! I'm glad I passed. The DMV is a whole other world... even in Loveland..

P.S. They will probably never ask you to close your eyes at the DMV.

Rusty

My boys' are really wanting a puppy. Actually Dylan really wants a puppy. Brian and I love the idea of a puppy. We will eventually start looking into it. Although we know in the wee hours of the morning, Brian will be taking the puppy outside for us all. Jake is not so into the whole dog idea. Not sure why but he is content with Dylan just getting a hermit crab. I am ready for a puppy, as long as it is not a Dachshund. Its not that I am against that breed of dog..it is just that it reminds me of Rusty. Here is where my story begins.

Well, I must say I never thought I would be writing about Rusty in a blog. I think the time period is around 93(ish)? We were living in Berthoud and my grandma, Rene, lived with us. She had sold her house a few years earlier and had built an addition onto our house. She brought her horses along with her and it was perfect, since we had the land for them. I look back now and realize I took that place and time in my life for granted. It was a special place to live and I have so many good memories of my family in that house.

As my grandma was and still is an animal lover (she is 95!) she decided to adopt Rusty. I love dogs, but Rusty highly annoyed me from the get go. He was a licker. It doesn't matter what was going on..he was always trying to lick you--legs, arms, you name it. So, the only time I really interacted with this dog was to say, "Move Rusty!" "Get Away, Rusty!" Poor Rusty.

Another one of Rusty's fun traits was the he liked to roll in the horse manure. Awesome. With having all the horse manure right at his disposal..you think he would have stayed close to home. But no. That was not the case. For some reason, the lure of the other neighbors' horse manure was too much for him. So, one day the neighbors called and said, "I think your dog is here in our pasture." No one else was home, so, grandma called on me to help get Rusty home. Well, I wasn't going to walk up there. It was a good little jaunt up the hill and hey, if you can drive- why walk? I got in my car and drove over there. I spotted Rusty right away and jumped out to grab him...ahhh, disgusting! He had been rolling in the neighbors horse manure and was totally covered with it. Fantastic. And he was trying to lick me! This dog does not know when to stop. You think by the look on my face that there would be no attempt to lick me. How am I going to get him home?? I should have walked over with a leash! Well, I will tell you one thing-- he was not going to set foot in my car. Hmmmm..I am only 1 minute away from home and there is breathable air in the trunk. I gingerly pick him up trying not to get anything gross on me and put him in the trunk and closed it. I drove back home hoping grandma would not see me. Don't think it would be a good idea for her to see her beloved Rusty being pulled out of the trunk. I look around. Coast seems clear. I pull Rusty out and as I am doing so I see grandma's shocked face in her window. Oh no. Busted. I let Rusty loose and grandma comes out to see us. "Angela, she gasps!" I said he is okay--look at him. And there he was happily coming up the steps to lick grandma! Grandma definitely did not think that was funny, but she was a good sport about it. Now Rusty may or may not have been traumatized by the trunk incident. I don't know. I do think he definitely was traumatized by some coyotes (they took him on a wild ride) later on, but that is another story. He did get some redemption in the end. Years later, when grandma moved into an independent living facility, she found some great people to take Rusty. They absolutely adored him. He got dog massages and was treated like a prince!

Maybe I should have tried to like Rusty more, but one thing is for sure...I love my grandma. She is a pretty neat little lady. And I still love her compassion for all animals great and small.


This is my "I am tolerating Rusty" look

Maybe think before you leap

About 3 weeks ago, I was in serious pain in my back. I went to my chiropractor and she says, “what in the world did you do?” I say, “I have no idea. So, she has been working on me for awhile. A couple days ago, the beach scene flashed before my eyes and I remembered how I had hurt my back. I had blocked it out, I guess. So, that is why my back is jacked up!

Let me take you back to the scene at the beach….we were in San Diego for spring break last month. Love San Diego! Anyway, the first day we got there we went go to check out some beaches. We were walking along and saw a really neat one in La Jolla. Hmmm….one problem. How in the world do you get down there? The only way was to climb down some rocks and then..jump! No problem. Brian says to me, “you know you will have to climb back up and that is not a tiny jump. Are you sure?” Yes, I am sure. I had just seen a rather large woman sitting on that beach, so I knew there had to be a way out if she was down there. We climb down and jump. The boys’ had a great time romping in the waves! We proceed to leave and I’m confused why it looks so steep to climb out? Brian hoists me up and then tosses the boys’ up. He is about to figure a way up when the larger woman on the beach comes up to us. She is with her daughter (who is about my age) and they are collecting their things to leave. She comes to the bottom of the rock and looks up. She says, “I can’t climb up that rock” She is right. She cannot. This is something she did not think about before she jumped down. Something my husband pointed out to me just a bit earlier. Brian tells her we will try to help her. He gets in a position to push from behind and I decide to grab her arms and try to pull her up. Note: the daughter is just watching all of this- not bothering to help. I am straining to pull up this 300 pound woman, while Brian is frantically trying to push from below. Did I mention she is still in her bathing suit? I realize, oh dear…I can’t do this. Why am I doing this?? We come to the realization that Brian and I are not going to get this woman up the side of this rock. The lady and her daughter decide to go try and find another way out. No thank you or anything..they just walk off. Now if this lady had been by herself or if they had asked for more help—we would have A. found a ladder somewhere? B. found a large group of really strong men or C. called the fire department. I don’t know how in the world that woman made it out, but I do hope she did.

So, moral of the story: do not try to pull a large person up the side of a cliff…you might hurt yourself. And sometimes you need to think before you leap.

Bonfante

Well, I have all of these stories rolling around in my head and I feel the need to share the love. I love to write..so, this is a good outlet for me. I am not sure why embarrassing things seem to happen to me a lot, but they do. I am writing this story for one friend, in particular, my dear friend, Kimmy. She was there to console me after my humiliating display in front of a large crowd of people! Our two families took the kids one day to Bonfante (now called Gilroy Gardens). I just want to interject here that I love this place and is the best for an outing with the kiddos! Speaking of Gilroy, did you know it was the garlic capital of the world? Even in San Jose you can smell the garlic in the summer morning air and it smells delicious. Mmmm…garlic. Oh, where was I? Yes, Bonfante.

So, we are skipping along having a great day in the sunshine. We come to the pond with the swan paddle boats. The kids shout, yeah let’s do this! We get in line and it ends up that I won’t have a partner. I am fine with that. Brian gets in with Dylan and they happily paddle off. My boat floats up and the attendant helps me down into the boat. As I had been talking and not paying attention, I did not realize that all the paddle boats were two seaters. For some reason, I thought that since I was by myself they had given me a single person paddle boat. I get in and get situated and I am immediately confused. My feet could not reach the pedals?! So, I keep trying to stretch my legs to get them to reach. I can’t be this short, right?? I finally yell out to the attendant, “Hey, um…my feet don’t reach the pedals. Can you help me out?” She looks down at me and says, “Ma’am, you are supposed to sit on one side of the boat to pedal. I realize with horror that I am straddling the paddle boat!! I basically looked like I was in labor and about to give birth to a giant swan paddle boat baby. The best part were the long lines of people looking down at me watching this whole thing…like I am a spectacle in a zoo. Really? Did that just happen? I had two choices…I could leap out of the boat and run and hide or I could muster up what dignity I had left and finish that ride. I chose the latter. I slunk down onto one side of the boat and pedaled away…that was a long lap around the pond.

I guess the moral of the story is when you make a fool of yourself in front of a large crowd—soldier on! To have friends that love you and to laugh with is priceless. I will never look at paddle boats the same way again, but I will always think of Kimmy when I do. And that made the whole thing worth it.