Disorganized Organization

I am, self-proclaimed, the most disorganized person I know.  It's like a curse.  I have some incredibly organized friends (I keep telling one friend that she should become a professional organizer and get paid because she is THAT good) and sister-in-laws, but I'm like a little space monkey next to them.

This has been causing me a lot of stress lately. 

I want to be organized.  I desire to be organized.  I love to be at their homes because they are so organized.  I want to love to be at my house because I'm so organized. 

And I have a bazillion projects I want to do, but they are all dependent on another project that has to get done.  And that project is dependent on another project.  And on and on.  It's a vicious, vicious cycle and I get overwhelmed easily. 

Friday, I decided I was done with being disorganized.  I found a project (two actually) and they are both dependant on the garage being cleaned out.  So, Friday morning, I set out to do just that.  I cleaned out the garage, hosed it down, and arranged everything so that we could put two cars in instead of no cars.  This alone was a big accomplishment. 

Now I have my workspace.

(What are my two projects?  You'll have to wait and see.  It's a surprise.)

Also, I sorta got bit by the sewing bug.  I'm understandedly a bit confused about this because I have had next to zero desire, except for a fleeting moment when I had just had J., in which I had any inkling of anything that could be called desire to sew.  But now?

I figure it's God way of preparing me for the end of the world. 

And then there's the whole writing thing, which I love, but have made no effort to incorporate into my life.  I need to work on that.

I know that if I was more organized I would find oodles and oodles of time (time spent looking for library books and figuring out what to make for lunch and cleaning the house) in which I could actually do stuff I WANT to do instead of stuff I HAVE to do.

Which brings me to the introduction of the Family Bible.  I will go into the Family Bible more intricately in another (boring?) blog post but basically it's a binder with a monthly calendar, a weekly to-do list, a daily to-do list, a running shopping list, a list of meals--breakfast, lunch, and dinner--for the week, a detailed step-by-step project for the week that I'll concentrate on and what/how much exercise I'm doing each day of the week.

Watch out people!  Like my menu cards, which have completely revolutionized our dinner plans, I plan on the Family Bible doing the same for my life.

Consider this an introduction into how I take over the world!

The Universe is Plotting Against Me

This morning, I woke up to do a six mile run.  I wasn't feeling very good.  My legs were still sore from my 10 miler on Monday and my arms were sore from lifting weights yesterday.  And I'm just tired all around.  Like burned out, but I still have three more big races to go until the end of the season.

And then...

I don't know.  Something quiet like knitting or sewing or baking bread.

But until then, I'm still hammering away the miles.

So, I pick up my running buddy N. and head over to another running buddy's house C.  C. is from the original group who trained for the marathon, but since the other member of the trio got pregnant and hasn't been running since she hit about 24 weeks, C. has been running with someone else.  So I don't see her much.  But that someone else is at Girls Camp this week so, I called C. to see if she wanted to join us. 

Hence how me, S., is running with N. and C. this morning. 

Got it?  Good.

So, we start off and I know from the get go--really from the moment I woke up--that this was not going to be one of my more stellar runs.  So I let N. go ahead of me.  I can see her and I think she makes the next turn, but then we never see her again.  C. and I wind through our little township and never see N.  WHich would not be a big deal, except for that you could spend hours on some of those streets and never find your way out.  Finally, I decide that I should probably go in search of her.  But where?

I drive around and never see her, so I go home to see if maybe she's called.  But she hasn't.  So I have to wake the kids (neither kid is an early riser.  J. will sleep until 9:30.  A. will sleep usually until 8:30 or 9:00.  It's 7:30 and Wade is heading off to work) and load them in the car to go back out.  Luckily, I find N. on her way home.  She had, indeed, missed the turn, and then couldn't remember where the water we had put out was, and by then it was getting warm and she had been out for 7+ miles.  But because C. lives about 2 miles from us, she had quite a ways to go. 

So why did I go in search of my buddy?  Because I'm a good friend, that's why.  I kind of feel responsible for the people I run with.  Their husbands know they are out with me and they probably assume that we're all together.  So if N. would have gotten kidnapped or hurt and I left her to find her own way home, then I sorta feel like it would have been partly my blame.

I just feel better if I know that you've made it home.

Now, if you're running by yourself, I have no qualms about it.  That's a risk we all take when we step outside by ourselves.

But, have no fear, because no good deed goes unpunished.  As I was carting in my cranky kids, a box of cereal, and a bottle of water, I managed to drop my smartphone onto the driveway and it shattered the screen.  It's still usable, but now there's a spider web that spreads across it.

Not the worse thing going on in my life right now, but I was still really mad about it.  Especially when two minutes later, the box of cereal I had sacrificed my phone for was ceremoniously dumped onto the living room carpet.

Ha!

I've written three different blog entries for today and then deleted them all because they were all stupid.

What is going on?

When Good Ideas Go Terribly, Terribly Wrong

The local cinema out here in boondock land hosts a summer movie thingie where, for $10, you get to go a movie every week, on the same day of the week, at the same time.  They're predetermined shows and are usually children's movies a year or two old.  It's a nice way to get out of the house and at least the theater is air conditioned.

Some weeks are not bad.  Some weeks, the movies last FOREVER.  We did this when A. was a baby because it was right during her nap time.  I didn't do it last year because she had just learned to walk and I figured there was no way she would sit through all those movies.

And then this year, I thought maybe she had matured a little bit.  She'll sit through movies at home with no problem.  We've gone to other movies at times and she's been fine.  But for whatever reason, she does not like these movies.

I had the foresight to get a ticket for one of J.'s friend's so that J. isn't all alone.  Which is nice, because I spend the majority of every movie out in the foyer, or in the bathroom, or, as was the case today, in the car.  Because A. would rather be anywhere but watching a movie.

Oiy.  This girl has the attention span of a tiny insect and she is driving me nuts!  I take back all those things I said about J. like how he was the most stubborn kid I had ever met. Or how he was so independent and fierce.  Because his sister has shown him up. 

Don't even get me started on church.  How did I manage to sire two children with such an intense hatred of church?

If I survive the next year, I'll consider it a miracle.  Baby steps.  Baby steps.

Wade Goes Camping

Wade is in charge of the older scouts.  The ones between 14 and 18.  They are suppose to be the "tough" scouts and Wade likes to remind them of this on occassion.

This last weekend, it was the Boyscout On Target Day, or something like that.  The idea is to build reflecting mirrors and beam other scouts on top of peaks around the valley.  With ultrabright lights reflecting the sun's rays.

I know.  I know.

So Wade decided that he would backpack the boys into a lake three miles from the trailhead to Deseret Peak, the tallest peak in Tooele County.  And then on Saturday, they would hike the fiveish miles to the peak, beam their buddies at the other peaks, and then hike the eight miles back to the trailhead.

The weekend before, he built this ultra-cool mirror comprised of four (yes, four!) 12 x 12 mirrored tiles mounted on a 16 inch circular piece of wood.  It was quite the project and then he had to dismantle it because how does one cart a 2 foot by 2 foot mirror up a mountain? 

In pieces, that's how.

Late Friday afternoon, they took off.  In his party were three (yes, three) boys and three adults.  None of the adults were fathers to any of the boys.

The rest of the story is what he relayed to me upon coming home:

It took them a lot longer than they had anticipated to hike into the lake Friday afternoon, a road best suited for ATVs and had been washed out by a blocked river, and by the time they got there it was dark.  So they just set up their tents anywhere.

(I believe they all brought their own tents, which makes zero sense, but I let him continue with his tale).

 He helped one of the adult leaders with his tent, which had the wrong poles.  But luckily, this guy had packed a hammer.  Which was of no use except for very heavy.

They ate dinner.  Then they talked.  And then when it was time to go to bed, and that was when Wade discovered that he was sleeping on a pile of rocks.  Very pokey, sharp rocks. Things were fairly uneventful until roughly about 2 am, when the wind picked up.  The wind ALWAYS picks up when Wade is out on a backpacking trip with the scouts.  When Wade looked out his window, he noticed that his buddy with the hammer had two broken poles and his head was completely exposed on the outside of the tent. 

Wade tried to fall back asleep.

At 4 am, a shift in wind direction brought an especially bad gust of wind and Wade looked outside again.  This time The Hammer's tent had fallen down and he was in the process of packing it up.  Wade invited him into his tent to which The Hammer replied:

"I'll think about it."

Sometime between 4:30 and 5:30, The Hammer declared to Wade that he was headed home.  And with that, he was gone, his tent nestled somewhere in the bushes, given up to the gods.

The beaming was suppose to take place between 11 am and 1 pm, so the rest of the group had to get up early and start heading up the peak.

It seems that the peak is still covered in snow though.  But not to be deterred, Wade kept his troop moving along, traversing snow packs.  At one point, they came to a place that they couldn't navigate.  Wade agreed to go ahead and spot where they could make it through.  When he came back to his group a mutiny had formed. The remaining five people usurped Wade's authority and declared that they were not going to hike to the top of Deseret Peak.

Wade got them to agree to hike a smaller peak nearby, so they all trekked back and then up to the next peak.  At the pass just below the peak, one of the boys and the other adult leader refused to go any higher.  Wade, who had lugged up a monster of a mirror to beam other troops was not going to give up so easily, so he got the other two boys to accompany him, more so that he would have two extra people to carry the mirrored tiles than for company sake.

He was able to beam some of the other peaks--much to my astonishment.  They had a grand time.  Then they came back, picked up their backpacks at their campsites and came home.

He noted that the boys were a little tired and even showed some concern as to the boy who would be putting on a fire dancing show in a mere 30 minutes.  When Wade dropped off the lone remaining adult leader, he had to carry in the guy's backpack and expressed a desire to maybe drive him to the emergency room.  He wasn't really answering questions and looked a little pale.  His wife didn't seem too concerned so Wade left and came home.

As it turns out, maybe Wade needs to come with some warning label that says WARNING: I am bionic man who needs no breaks, no rest, no food, and am compelled to finish anything remotely crazy.  Proceed with caution.

I will be forever grateful to the scout program for making it so I don't have to accompany him on as many insane trips.

Movie Time

Here's my confession:  I had not--until two weeks ago--seen any Harry Potter movie except for #7 Part 1.  I have only read the first two books and then couldn't get through book three.  Yet...I was commissioned to be a friend's "date" at the midnight showing of the final movie on opening night. 

It's because I'm so cool.  That's why.

So, in an effort to get caught up, my friend (N.) and I crammed seven movies (because I had no idea what was happening in the movie when we saw #7--the longest 2.5 hours of my life--so I had to rewatch it) into a two week period. 

Like 16 hours of Harry Potter.

Which is a lot of Harry Potter, as it turns out.

But I did it.  And I went out on my "date" with N.  And I had an enjoyable time.

When she originally asked if I would accompany her, I was okay with the idea of getting out. 

Note: I rarely say no when it comes to getting out of the house without kids.  This includes 10 mile runs, last minute dinners, midnight showings, all night shopping sprees and a host of other activities that I wouldn't necessarily do if it were just me.

Then, sometime this last week, N. said that we needed to get our t-shirts made.

T-shirts?  I was not aware of any t-shirts we would have to wear.  I did not want to be one of those crazy people showing up at a midnight showing.  Dressing up was not in the original contract.

To which N. replied "But if you don't dress up as something then you'll look like an idiot."

Right. We certainly wouldn't want that, now would we. So...I made my t-shirt:

And N. made hers, which took two t-shirts and an hour and a half and some choice words muttered under our breaths.

But by 9:30, we were headed out the door and on our way to the movie complex where we would...um...look for something to eat and wait. In our semi matching shirts.

Yes.  I felt very cool. I was wearing, more or less, a matching t-shirt with my buddy.  And I'm over the age of 10.  Why would I feel like everyone was staring at me like I had just walked in from a Trekkie convention?

We were thrown out of Iggy's because we tried to come in with Jamba Juices and apparently, our t-shirts made us look like we were the type to sneak liquor into  a liquor serving establishment.  But, on our walk across the parking lot to Chili's we hid our Jamba Juices in our purses, and had no problem.  Except for when we took the Jamba Juices out of our purses once we were seated and then it looked like we were the type to sneak in liquor in Jamba Juice cups. 

I mean, isn't that something you'd do if you were underage, not 30?  Just a thought...

At Chili's we managed to get a free appetizer AND a free meal.  I'm not entirely sure how we did it or if we'd ever be able to replicate this kind of performance ever again.  And then N. told the waiter that we "hooked him up" with a nice tip, but upon further calculating (why, yes, I do have a degree in math) in the parking lot, we realized it wasn't really that much of a tip beyond what we would have given him. 

To which we giggled hysterically across the parking lot to the movie theater.

Once inside the theater, it was like watching a freak show at the aslyum.  There are some crazy fans out there with some awesome costumes. 

And then there are some crazy fans out there with some terribly bad costumes. 

And then there was the scarecrow and the Victoria's Secret angel that I was sitting near. 

I must have missed that part of the series where the scarecrow and the angel meet at Hogwarts...

The movie was good.  It tied everything together nicely.  Having not read the books, I was a little surprised by some outcomes and surprised by things that didn't happen.  I was a little taken back by the girls next to me who were CONVULSING when someone died.  Not even a main character.  Someone secondary to the story.  But they were sobbing uncontrollably. 

Which of course got N. and me giggling hysterically again.

And then got N.. a nasty "Please stop talking" from the guy next to her.  Which of course made it so incredibly hard to keep from giggling again.  But we managed to hold it together for the sake of those who who have hearts.

Which, apparently, isn't us.

We got home at 3:30, and I felt into a deep slumber considering I had been up since 5:30 the previous morning.  Luckily the kids stayed awake late that night, so I got some decent sleep too.

And I nominate myself as being the bestest friend that anyone could have. 

Because I'm cool.  That's why.

Postcard From the Edge

Hello.

It's been a while hasn't it? 

Here's what's been going on since we last spoke:

--I ran my usual race on July 4th.  I did not, however, pee my pants.  This is the fifth year in a row I've run this race and it's become a favorite no-miss race.  As in, even though it started at freakin' 8:45 in July and it was hotter than snot, and the organizers (if you can call them that) are so beyond disorganized it drives me crazy every year and the t-shirts totally suck, I will be signing up next year.

--Also at the parade was this lady.  Dressed in the EXACT same shirt, only in red.  But her shorts, her early 90's socks and shoes, her 80's hairdo were all there in their glory.  And she did not read my post from last year, because she was still as annoying as she was then.  Next year, I'm bringing her a bag of saltwater taffy and telling her to sit down and let the little kids enjoy the parade.  Wade said that she and a little boy caught a frisbee at the same time and they looked at each other for a brief second before she yanked it out of his hands.  She will be referred to as Crazy Parade Lady from here on out.

--Swimming lessons started this week, which is simultaneously the most beloved and most hated two weeks of the summer.  I love that we have something to do every day that requires little effort or money, but I can only stand the pool for so long.  Unless I'm sitting by the side of it, looking up every once in a while from my book to determine that my kids' heads are above water.  With A. being two and half fish, I'm in the pool, making sure A. doesn't tread into too deep of water or going down the one waterslide over and over again and I'm cooked at about an hour.  A. could stay forever.  J. is a little more reserved and tires out about the same time I do, which means that every day, I have to drag a screaming two year old out of the pool gates.

--Last year, I started the trend of wearing a rash guard (a shirt that is treated with a sunblocker) to the swimming pool.  This was in an effort to save my pale skin from crisping to the point where my marathon training would be put on hold.  I undid all this effort on marathon day when I sustained the worst sunburn I had had in years.  Many kids have rash guards, but in Utah, they are a little harder to find in affordable adult women sizes.  HOWEVER, this year, I found a really cute one and still consider it the best purchase I have made in swimwear in my entire life.  No more burned back.  No more finding unsuspecting strangers to slather on sunblock.  Genius! 

--A. and J. are at that age where I think if we were to have a third kid, they'd gang up on it and eat it the minute I stepped into the shower.  I've heard of people having to lock their babies in the bathroom with them so that the other children don't harm it.  I can kind of see why.  In fact, I a little worried that they're plotting to eat me if I close my eyes.

--I was accused of failing to provide the caliber of facebook statuses that my fans are accustomed to and thus the pressure to provide something enlightening, yet humorous, is getting to me.  I'm at home, most days, and there is only so much that differs from a day to day basis. 

That's it, folks.  Hope all is going well on your end.