Misunderstood
Even though I know what my daughter meant in this poem, many mothers read this and stood aghast, which made it all the more funny to me.
I found it hilarious, a bit embarrassing, but damn funny none the less. I do take my children to feed the ducks often, and we endearingly refer to the ducks as “mates” as they couple and walk around together in the spring. Although Sass and I have had the birds and the bee’s conversation, she has never been taken to the park to watch the ducks mate, at least not on purpose.
Yesterday my other daughter Sessy represented her mother well when she told her class “my mom only gets a runny nose when she sniffs up the white stuff”. Yep, my new title in the gossip circles is Peeping-tom coke head.
The white stuff Sessy’s mom sniffs is this.
Is it so wrong to fight off colds?
Labor Day weekend, a gory end without option
To rub lemon juice into my wound, the weatherman has informed my glorious city that we are in for an abrupt change in weather. Abrupt meaning SNOW in the mountains. Yes, snow. SNOW in the mountains.
This awful forecast left me wishing I was being offered a choice. An option perhaps equally as awful, but still, an option to choose my own demise. Such as: would you rather have snow over the Labor Day weekend OR would you rather pass silent but deadly gas in the dentist chair while having a filling replaced? This is the kind of situation you cannot hide from, the guilt of your offense is obvious and you have nowhere to run and no one to blame it on. You must choose wisely.
Yes, I would rather THAT, passing the deadly wind in the dentist chair in front of the dentist, the kind of gas that clears the room and requires the fire department to open and waft the windows, YES, YES, THAT! Instead of enduring SNOW OVER LABOR DAY WEEKEND! Please, anything but that.
To the weather man I say “you must be kidding me”, and then I fall to the ground like a fish out of water, convulsing until I fall flat on my back with my legs in the air, and then after what seems like hours, my legs drop. I have X’s on my eyes, and I lay still while humming “Mr. Sun”.
Can’t breathe
With all this back to school business, along with dwindling summer days, the noose around my neck seems much more than a fragment of my imagination.
Make a lunch people, this post might be long. Long, random, and grammatically incorrect. . .
In between fretting about the germs at our elementary school, buying up all the 4 oz hand sanitizer Bath & Body Works is discontinuing, and one last jaunt to Bear Lake, I was able to watch swimming legend Mr. Phelps, give the world a sports thrill not even Hollywood could have mustered up. Eight gold metals at one Olympic games! Thank you Michael, not only for the best week of entertainment, but permission for all us butterfliers to give our swim coaches harassing phone calls. Yes, the morning after Phelps swam his butterfly event harassing phone calls to swim coaches were made all across the U.S. to point out how wrong they were to tell swimmers “NEVER TAKE A HALF STROKE at the end of the race”. Michael, we will forever thank you for proving all our coaches wrong. Although I would never call and harass Steve, my old high school swim coach, because he would make me do push ups, I do indeed revel in the fact that I witnessed Michael Phelps, the current Olympic Champion take a half stroke to win the gold.
A few posts ago I told you we don’t drive the scenic route to Bear Lake. Lucky for you, our last trip required us to go the beautiful way because of some major road closures on our usual route.
See what I mean? This is the view once you leave Logan canyon and enter the land of Bear Lake.
Makes you want to drive your car right straight down to the beach doesn’t it?
There was more OM on this trip. OMMMM.
And schools of fish, of which I am deathly afraid of.
Once, long ago, while I was windsurfing this lake, the wind completely died. completely. Leaving me far away from the shore. Floating on the lake was delightful until a school of fish crossed my waters. Wiggling and splashing their way around my board, they just about killed me. Until Norm, a wonderful family friend came out on his jet ski to help, but his jet ski broke down so we had to paddle my windsurf and his jet ski in while being terrorized by a school of carp.
Just now, I nearly passed-out from reliving the contents in that last paragraph.
Moving on to another thrilling moment of terror, my son went missing while he was with my husband I was in the shower. As I took off looking for my baby, I spotted him making a run for the lake. Yes, I know, and yes, I did threaten divorce.
This photo is of a total stranger.
I am highly aware of the kind of negative energy I’m generating while posting such a private moment. But since this is a public lake, she should have been more considerate and used the restroom. Let this be a warning to you all: Don’t whiz in my lake! Especially don’t whiz right in front of me. This urinator squatted and tinkled inches from my children and Willy.
This is Willy, he has feelings too.
Our last night on the beach was breath taking, literally. I have felt like I’m suffocating each and every day we get closer to the last day of summer.
Due to my sadness from returning home from Bear Lake, and lack of oxygen, I decided to go on a wild adventure with my husband and three children to the top of Hidden Peak, a place where there really is no oxygen. No we didn’t hike. We here at Evanzstox don’t hike. Get real.
We rode the tram, i.e., puppet airplane with no wings, engine or seats. I was absolutely out of my mind because when we lifted up and swung back and fourth while elevating 11,000 ft I grabbed ahold of the germy railing and while peeking through my half shut eyes, I saw Santa in his red sled with the Easter bunny, 2Pac, and my childhood dog, fluffy, lord bless her sweet soul, they were mocking me.
No amount of Om was able to save me once we reached the top,
because landing way up there meant one thing - sooner or later I had to go back down.
We were all fine on the chairlift, but I must admit, I missed the security of the fluffy-soft white snow.
Did I just find something positive to say about winter?
Wow.
Three flats and a Tasmanian Devil
Shopping with my son is always a circus because my Little Man is never content unless he can climb the walls and skydive off the scaffolding, or blow something up, or worse, eat a piece of regurgitated bubble gum off the floor.
With that said, it is no doubt I was pleased to find a stroller he loves to be confined ride in. Our beloved stroller, which we call Bob, is permanently placed in the back of my car so if there is ever a reason to attempt a little shopping with our Little Man we are prepared for battle.
Today, the universe wanted to teach me a lesson in patients and wickedly decided to hit me below the belt by popping all three of Bob’s tires and not tell me until I already drove all the way out to Target with a car full of kids who were singing: “Hooray we are going to choose a new Wii game and our Mom is the BEST”.
When I pulled Bob out of the car nothing seemed wrong. I watched my son eagerly climb up inside his stroller with his juice and a box of raisins. That is when I realized we had serious problems with Bob’s tires. I stood there for a while, looking at the entrance to Target, then to my two happy girls, then the three flat tires, and then back at the store doors, then to Little Man’s hands grasping his raisins and juice, then back to my car. I looked deep into the back of my car as if a new Bob would magically appear.
As the universe stood still, my neck started to tighten as I muttered a few slurred sentences you would only hear out of a sailor’s mouth, I then folded Bob up and slid him back into my car. Taking a deep breath, followed by an even deeper breath, I lovingly explained to Little Man that he will be walking, and that he will need to be good, Real Good, so help him, or forever live in a kennel in the garage.
As we waltzed into the store I snapped at the voice in my head that said “why don’t you just put him in a shopping cart?” by replying: “BECAUSE I DON’T NEED MY SON COMING HOME WITH SOME BARKING MONKEY DISEASE!” and then the rows of shopping carts melted down to a pile of metal and plastic and all the shoppers ran out of the store screaming something about some crazy lady having a gun.
No gun people, just a really loud rambunctious little boy with untamed super natural powers, and a mother who yells at the voices in her head.
We were in Target for 20 minutes. I aged 5 years and grew a mustache, which I plan to have waxed as soon as I can get some help tearing this strait jacket off.
Motherhood.
Random E, F,G and H
E) I love this photo of Sass, she is doing the happy happy joy joy dance.
F) Every time I see the Olympic male swimmers in their awesome synthetic shark skin full body swimsuits, I laugh as I remember all the boys on my high school swim team who suffered through wearing speedos.
G) When we are leaving the house, why does my son always wait for me to set the alarm to announce that he has poops? why?
H) I start to laugh harder when I remember how many of the boys on my high school swim team would hold a kick board in front of their “man parts” to hide the obvious, and they thought we girls didn’t notice.
Sunshine and a meteor shower makes me happy
I haven’t kept my love for summer a secret, nor have I kept my eyes from rolling at all the blubbering boo-hooers who whine and cry over the heat. It’s summer people, extend your arms and receive the energy and love from the sun. OMMMM, OOMMMMM.
Pardon my sun absorbing moment internet, I can’t help myself, I just love the sun!
What would be almost better than a warm summer’s day you ask? A meteor shower! That’s right August 12th is meteor shower time. But the best time to see the shower is in the morning when the moon sets, not later that night. That is in 5 hours! Get your spectacles people! It’s rise and shine at 0300 hours!
Hold it! What can make a warm summer’s day followed by a meteor shower even better? OLYMPIC SWIMMING on TV while waiting for the meteor shower! Go Phelps!! “For the laa-and of the freeeEEEE AND the HOME OF THE BRAVE….whoo hoo!”
Quick recap, a wonderfully warm and sunny day (with clean air), the summer olympics on TV, SWIMMING for Pete’s sake, and a much anticipated meteor shower (which I may very well sleep right through, but Lordy, what anticipation!) with the evening accompanied by our beautiful national anthem, along with Phelps on the podium wearing the gold and stretching to stay limber for his butterfly event.
Summer is sweet!
Oh Claude
It has been fairly uneventful around here as far as Claude and his poop flinging goes. There haven’t been any mysterious notes hanging on trees or fences either. The reason things have been mellow is because Claude moved. Yep, he is gone. But not really. He decided to keep his house and rent it to a really nice guy with two dogs, a Wiener and a Westy. In case you just read that line as: a really nice guy with two wieners and a weenie, I’ll repeat myself, a really nice guy with two dogs, a Wiener and a Westy.
Claude is still around, he comes by to help in the yard and watch over things. Gucci and him exchange glares glances and sometimes they stand and stare at each other for a minute. When Gucci was giving him the eye I could have sworn I saw Claude snarl and show his teeth.
Point Gucci.
Compelled to share
A very kind man lives in the house behind ours. His back fence runs along our garage and driveway. He is often hunkered down behind the chain-link-fence weeding or picking his beautiful raspberries. Although I have never had a lengthy conversation with him we have always been cordial and he has always been curious about what my children are up to. He has been out back almost every time we have come home from a Bear Lake trip. We make conversation with him as we unpack our car, but remarkably we have never mentioned Bear Lake.
As I sit here at my desk I can see inside my neighbor’s house. There is a warm glow radiating from the windows as his family fills the rooms, everyone is comfortable and sharing love. Some are in the living room, others are gathered around the dining room table looking through what seems to be photo books. There is a peaceful energy that is comforting the walls of my neighbors house.
Tonight my neighbor’s family said goodbye to him as they laid him to rest. My darling neighbor passed away peacefully in his sleep. He was 75. He was at his cabin at Bear Lake. We never knew he had a cabin at Bear Lake, nor did he know we spend time at Bear Lake. I do know the next time we roll into our garage I’ll expect him to be in his berry patch next to the chain-link-fence waiting to exchange smiles.
There will still be smiles.
We are going to miss you Frank. See you on the other side. In the other side’s berry patch.
Tomorrow at this time it will be the 1st of August
Summer is running away from us. I can barely breathe. I think the oxygen supply is running out. The earth is starting to rotate back out into the galaxy, further away from the sun, making our days shorten. Soon there will be a change in the season. I might completely fall apart, or simply combust.
there are not many more days to sail,
or to skip rocks.
This morning, on a local news station, the weather man was pouting and blowing his boo-hoo’s into a pansy embellished hanky while complaining to the other two news anchors about the heat. HE WAS COMPLAINING ABOUT THE HEAT! We have been blessed with 90 degree weather all month long! The high for today is forecast to be 95 and pleasantly dry, with less than 8% humidity. Sounds like heaven to me.
Must I remind Mr. Weather Man of this?
and February’s blizzard?
OK, This was beautiful,
but THIS is 95 degree heaven.
Feel the heat people, welcome the sun into your soul. awwwome, awwwome.
Good bye July. You are the best month of the year! If I could freeze dry you and divide you into little easy-lock pouches I would. Then I could pour your little freeze-dried water dissolvable bits into my green tea and drink you all winter long. I would also mix you into my coconut lotion and rub you all over my body, but perhaps that’s crossing the line.
Griswold Family Bear Lake Trip
This barn has had a smiley face on it since I was nine years old. I love it because it means you are almost to Bear Lake.
We don’t take the scenic route to Bear Lake. Nope, that scenic route is much too beautiful. Especially the part when you reach the top of the canyon and the bright turquoise lake is revealed in all it’s glory. The grander of it is too much for us here at Evanztox. Besides, if we drove that way to the lake we would miss this happy smiley face.
once you reach the smiley barn you only have a few twisting roads,
and then, you are there or here.
This is where we roll down the windows and yell
“WE LOVE YOU BEAR LAKE!”
Soon after we arrive, we pile into the boat and let Captain Sessy steer the ship
and we toss our oldest over board to see if she can hold on to the tube.
Let’s take a closer look. Pump that Billy Idol fist girl!
Then it’s time for Hubby to take Sass and Little Man on the waverunner. I only swore a few times while watching him swerve and zigzag the waverunner with my baby on board.
Sessy then gives me a heart attack when she decides she is going to take the waverunner for a spin.
She shouts “Look Mom, Look at the moon!”
I fall for her deliberate distraction while she takes off. Only kidding. We let her paraglide instead.
Still kidding, this is our friend Ray. He parasails out by boat and then releases the cord and paraglides down onto the beach. He is one brave soul cool dude.
After a day in the sun we dry off and walk down to the beach to watch the sun go down.
Little Man likes to stroll along. Sometimes he ponders the ways of the universe,
sometimes he just wades in the water
Sass likes to look for small shells
they all like to look for shells.
Once the sun starts to set, the kids begin to jump and frolic in the golden auburn sunlight
First the girls,
Then just Sass,
then just Sessy,
and don’t forget Little Man, he’s a jumper too.
Once the sun sets,
we walk back up to the beach house and look for the Big Dipper.
Can you see it?
We love Bear Lake!
