I love to get flowers. They are always so pretty and make me feel so good.
Unfortunately my husband does not feel the same way. His reasoning? They are just going to die, so why waste his money?
Well, I'm just going to die too. So are you wasting your money on me?
LOL (kind of)
This is the funniest video ever! And it is so true! Enjoy.

The Poopie List

GHOST POOPIE: The kind where you feel the poopie come out, but there is no poopie in the toilet.

CLEAN POOPIE: The kind where you poopie it out, see it in the toilet, but there is nothing on the toilet paper.

WET POOPIE: The kind where you wipe your butt 50 times and it still feels unwiped, so you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear so you won't ruin them with stains.

SECOND WAVE POOPIE: This happens when you're done poopie-ing and you've pulled your pants up to your knees, and you realize that you have to poopie some more.

POP-A VEIN-IN-YOUR-FOREHEAD POOPIE: The kind where you strain so much to get it out, you practically have a stroke.

LINCOLN LOG POOPIE: The kind of poopie that is so huge you're afraid to flush without first breaking it into little pieces with the toilet brush.

GASSY POOPIE: It's so noisy, that everyone within earshot is giggling.

DRINKER'S POOPIE: The kind of poopie you have the morning after a long night of drinking. It's most noticeable trait is the skid marks on the bottom of the toilet.

THE SURPRISE POOPIE: You're not even at the toilet because you are sure you are about to fart, but *oops* --- a poopie!

CORN POOPIE: Self explanatory.

GEE-I-WISH-I-COULD-POOPIE POOPIE: The kind where you want to poopie but all you do is sit on the toilet and fart a few times.

SPINAL TAP POOPIE: That's where it hurts so badly coming out, you'd swear it was leaving you sideways.

WET CHEEKS POOPIE (The Power Dump): The kind that comes out so fast, your butt cheeks get splashed with water.

THE DANGLING POOPIE: This poopie refuses to drop in the toilet even though you are done poopie-ing it. You just hope that a shake or two will cut it loose.

Okay, so I am going to share a very, very embarassing moment. But you have to promise to share one of yours. That means if you keep reading, you have to post a reply.


Pinky swear?

Alright, here we go.

June 19, 2000. Our 8th anniversary. T took me to dinner at my very favorite restaurant, Red Lobster. It is so yummy, and I swim in butter while I am there.

Now, I have learned that after I eat a Red Lobster, I should immediately go into the restrooom before we go home. You know how butter is a lubricant and makes everything slippery? Well, that is exactly what it does to my intestinal track. Unfortunately, this story takes place before I came to this very important realization.

When we were done, we went over to the mall to look around. And while we were looking around, we stopped at the cell phone store and decided to get new cell phones.

So while we were standing there, I realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. Now. I asked where the nearest bathroom, and of course it was clear at the opposite end of the mall. I start walking, and then I start walking faster.

I soon realize that I'm not going to make it. And I don't. But the worst part is that it wasn't pee. Nope, the other one. And no matter how hard I clench as I am walking, it keeps coming.

Stop me if this is TMI!

I get to the bathroom and just stand in the stall. What am I going to do? Fortunately, I still have a child in diapers, so I had wet wipes in my purse. But it is everywhere. I mean major blowout!

So I washed down my legs with the wet wipes and I had to wash out my pants and garments in the toilet...and then put them back on. I mean, what else am I going to do? After a good 15 minutes, I am finally able to leave.

I find T and tell him we have to leave, NOW! But he insists we have to sign the contracts for the new cell phones. No, I am leaving, I will meet you at the car.

On the way home, T starts to get the same feelings. But we made it home in time for him to get to the bathroom. Imagine my sister's faces (my babysitters) when we race in the door and T plows through to the bathroom and I plow through to the bedroom, without even talking to them.

I swore I would tell no one about this moment, but we are all human and what good is that experience if I can't gross someone out or make someone laugh?

Okay, I showed you mine, now you show me yours!
...with my new computer!!! Isn't it beautiful?! I would marry it if I could. Now, there is a story as to why I want to enter matrimony with a metal box. Come, let me share.

Five years ago we bought a new computer. I loved that computer as well, but I was more in love with the store we bought it from. Totally Awesome Computers. Remember Del Schanze, the freak with the even freakier commercials? Well, he knew how to run a business. We bought the computer there, and never paid them another dime. Got a virus? Bring it in and they would take care of it for you. For free. Got so much spyware that it takes 15 minutes to load up? They fixed it for free. Any problem I had, I knew I could just take it in and they would fix it for me.

And then, gasp! The unthinkable happened! They went out of business. Apparently Del went off his medication and shut down all 8 of his stores in one afternoon. Crazy! So we heard that PC laptops was honoring the lifetime service guarantee. So we took it there and they just weren't the same. They were pushy and tried to get us to pay for all these upgrades. I don't think so.

So over the last couple of years, my computer has been getting slower and s l o w e r and s l o w e r. To the point that when I was getting on the internet, I would bring a book to the desk with me because I would have time to read a page while it was loading. It was worse than dialup! And I have Comcast high speed! My dad figured out that it was running with 121 MB of ram. And if you are not computer savvy, just know that that is really slow!

We held off as long as we could, but it was affecting my work, so something had to be done. But where do we go? Who can we trust? We took part of our tax refund and we bought a computer from Office Depot, one that they had advertised for a really good deal. But the video card went out after 12 hours. We called manufacturer and they wanted us to ship it to them so they could fix it. It would only take a couple of weeks. Are you kidding me? We returned it.

So then we waited and tried to figure out what to do. The tax refund was gone and T lost his job (I still haven't found it, have you?). Then we got our tax stimulus payment, and I discovered http://costco.com/

Lovely, lovely site. You can customize your own computer! Start with a really basic unit and you can upgrade just about anything with several different levels at different prices. I upgraded to 4 GB of ram. That is fast! And Costco has concierge service for tech support should anything go wrong! And it was free shipping! And even if it wasn't, they will refund your shipping if you have to return something you bought online! How cool is that?

I received the computer on Tuesday, it's now Friday night. I have spent so much time reloading programs and music and pictures. But it's almost done and I love it. It is so fast!

Since I am already married, I guess we will just have to live together. But if we are going to be that personal, I need a name. I am stumped at what to call my wonder machine, so I would love your suggestions. So give me a name, any name. Because I am seriously leaning toward "Pete." And I really don't want to.

I hate losing things. I have always been very proud of the fact that I am very organized and can find things quickly. When I lose something, it's very frustrating.

But this post isn't about me losing things, it's about my husband. He keeps losing his job! What the heck?!?!

We were very stable before. T had worked at a college for 7 years. In fact, we had just been to a banquet to celebrate the fact that he had gotten tenure.

And then he was let go. There are quite a few factors, but it comes down to the fact that he was in a department of men who were all alike, the younger ones had actually gotten their degrees from that school and the older men had been their teachers. T wasn't like them. He enjoyed helping the students. He would sit down with them and talk to them and help them. His degree was a design degree and the others were drafting degrees. So can you see the problem?

We knew they weren't happy with him, and T was planning on leaving in 1-2 years, AFTER he had finished his Doctorate degree. At that time, he had just finished the classes and was starting the research for the Dissertation. But apparently they didn't want to wait for him to finish. They wanted to get rid of him before his tenure kicked in and they had to have an acutal valid reason for firing him.

So we cried and stressed (k was only 8 months old) and then we sucked it up. And prayed. We would get paid through the rest of his contract (another 2 months), so surely he would have another job by then. It didn't happen. We cashed out his retirement, paid 40% of it to the IRS, paid off our cars and our credit cards, and lived off the rest for another 2 months. Surely he would have a job by then. It didn't happen. We applied for food stamps, unemployment, he worked at Walmart and we got help from our church. Surely he would get a job now. It didn't happen.

Finally, 7 months after losing his job, T got a job working for a food company. He taught their food handler's classes. It wasn't ideal, but he was teaching, which he loved to do, and we were making enough money to pay our own bills, and we had benefits.

T was traveling 6-9 days a month, including some weekends. He did so well, that he beat all their records for number of people taught and the amount of money that these classes brought into his department. He made a profit for this position for the first time EVER! So did they reward him? No, they set his goals even higher and expected him to reach them. And he did. So did they reward him? No, they set his goals even higher, completely unattainable. And when he couldn't reach them, he was let go. It had been 17 months.

So we cried and stressed and then sucked it up. And then prayed. We applied for food stamps, Medicaid, and unemployment, T worked where he could find work, and we still ended up having to get help.

And then our car died. The engine just went out on a trip. However, the kids loved riding in the car on the back of a tow truck! So now how do we afford a car payment? I go to work.

I was very lucky and found a really good job (that is a whole other post). But now I am working and taking my 2 year old to a babysitter, which I absolutely hate. T did find a job working as a draftsman, but his boss figured out that he could hire 2 kids out of high school, work them part time, and pay them less than he was paying T, and he was let go after 3 months.

So we cried and stressed and then sucked it up. And prayed. We applied for food stamps and Medicaid and unemployment. T got a job less than a month later. It was a good job as an assistant Dean at a for-profit school. The benefits would have cost us over $350 a month, so we passed.

In the meantime, T had been working on his dissertation and trying to write about meaningful work when he wasn't working. But he did it and he finished and received his diploma. He is now a Doctor!

And then after 7 months, he was let go. The reason? "It's just not a good fit." What the heck? That is all his boss would tell him. He was mad.

So we cried and stressed and then sucked it up. And prayed. And we are still praying. He has been substituting in junior high's, but that pays about half of what he was making before. But we are applying for food stamps and medicaid. And praying. A lot.

I do have to say that we have both grown so much because of these trials. My testimony has increased immensely and we have grown closer to each other. So I can't regret the trials for that very reason.

It's been 3 years. I am tired. This can't go on forever. Can it? I know it won't, but it sure feels that way sometimes. And I am ready to be stable again and let the Bishop worry about someone else for a while!

So if anyone finds a job that has T's name on it, could you return it to us? We have been looking for it for a very long time. Thank you.

In prison you get three square meals a day.

At home, you cook three square meals a day and try to get your kids to eat it.

In prison you get an hour each day in the yard to exercise and mingle.

At home you get to clean the yard up so you can mow it so your kids can spread more toys all over it so that you can go out and clean it again because little Jr. can't sleep without his latest Lego creation.

In prison you get to watch TV, cable even.

At home you get to listen to your children fight over the remote control and get treated to hours and hours of mindless cartoons thanks to cable.

In prison you can read whatever you want and attend college for free.

At home you get to read weekly readers starring Dick, Jane, and Spot and worry about how to send Jr. to college and still be able to eat for the next twenty years.

In prison all your medical care is free.

At home you have to pawn your mother's silver and fill out trillions of papers for insurance and hope the doctor will see you before you die.


In prison, if you have visitors, all you do is go to a room, sit, talk and then say good-bye when you are ready or your time is up.

At home you get to clean for days advance and then cook and clean up after your guests and hope that they will one day leave.

In prison you can spend your free time writing letters or just hang out in your own space all day.

At home you get to clean your space and everyone else's space, too, and what the heck is free time again?


In prison you get your own personal toilet.

At home you have to physically hold the bathroom door shut in order to keep from having someone standing over you demanding to know how long till you're done so you can do something for them.


In prison the prison laundry takes care of all your dirty clothes.
At home you get to take care of them yourself, plus everybody else's, and get yelled at because somebody's favorite shirt isn't clean.

In prison they take you everywhere you need to go.
At home you take everybody else where they need to go.

In prison the guards transport all your personal effects for you and make sure nothing is missing.

At home you have to lug around everybody else's stuff in your purse and then wonder who went in it and took your last dollar.

In prison there are no screaming or whining children or spouses asking you to do something else for them, or screaming at you because you didn't.
At home...stop me when I get to the downside of jail, will ya?