KSL Comment Boards

Disclaimers
If you are a frequent contributor to the KSL comment boards, then I don't mean "you" when I say "all the idiots on the boards".

Also, I'm aware of all grammar and spelling infractions. I made them on purpose for the sake of the post. If you aren't sure why there are so many spelling/grammar errors in my post, you should spend some time reading the KSL comment boards. www.ksl.com

It's not that I don't think their should be a place for public comment on noteworthy news items. I just think that maybe you should have to pass a IQ test to post something. Maybe a writing sample too.

Lets take this last weekend for example. 2 cars are involved in a crash at 1 am that results in the death of 6 people. All 6 people killed was in one car and the soul survivor was a four year old who was under the passenger dashbored since the car technically only fit five people. Who nows wear the 6th person was sitting.

One of the first comments was "what were they doing out at 1 am?" Like it would be any less traumatic if they were out at 11 am. Does it really matter? Idiots.

My next complaint is that people seem to have a way of turning the blame back to (a) the LDS church and (b) President Bush (c) the Republicans. Doesn't matter what the article is about; People not watering there yards: oh, must be because there "bishops" told them not to. House burns down: Oh, must be because President Bush was a dork. Hello? Maybe bad things happen to good people. Maybe people make bad choices. Maybe it has nothing to do with religion or politics. Besides, President Bush has been out of office hear for a while. How much more can really be his fault?

Up next on the complaint list: Trollers. These are the people that have nothing better to do than surf the KSL comment boreds and post irrelevant and stupid stuff usually blaming the LDS church or President Bush or the Republicans. After spending some time on their (researching for this post, of course) I can tell you how hard it is to navigate the boreds. It's not an user friendly site.

Next: The amount of proofreading that is NOT done before someone pushes "publish". If this is your one chance to put in your too cents, wouldn't you want to make sure your spelling and grammar were correct? If your anything like me, someone's argument is instantly invalidated in your mind because they started out a sentence with: Weather or not you think that its okay...
or
I'm board with what everyone has been saying...
These are not sixth graders writing mock letters to there congressmen. These are (presumably) grown adults who feel passionate enough about something to actually post a response to a article.

Their have been times wear I've been tempted to post something. But seeing as I know the difference between There and Their, plus your and you're, I'm afraid I'd be talking over there heads.

Lets Be Realistic

The other weekend, my brother-in-law accused me of being a realist.

Well, actually, what he said was "you always know exactly what to say to make a situation all better" in a somewhat sarcastic tone of voice. We were both watching his barely 2 year old run off for the upteenth time and I casually mentioned that it doesn't get much better when they're three.

I mean, I was just saying. In case he was holding on to the belief that in 10 months time, everything would be right. I was just trying to save him the same heartache I felt when, shortly after Josh's third birthday, I realized that everyone who told me that three was better than two (thanks, mom!) were just mincing the experience so that I would have hope to continue on. Like I was going to eat Josh or something if I would've known ahead of time.

I guess, maybe I could work on my timing a little bit, but still, I was trying to be helpful. And who knows, maybe his kid will be the first three year old I have ever seen that is actually better behaved than they were at two. In that case, I was just giving him the worse case scenario. Anything different would be cause for celebration, right? Anyways...

So I interpreted it as him calling me out as a realist. Just telling it like it is. Or like I see it. Same dif.

Which I've never denied. I'm certainly not your rainbows and cotton candy kinda gal. I walk a very fine line between optimism and pessimism, and usually the more sickenly optimistic someone is around me, the more pessimistic and devil advocatey I become. I like to point out the "other" viewpoint, even if it's not one I agree with. Just to watch you squirm. Besides, what fun would it be if we all agreed on everything?

And so here's the thing: I know that bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. I've seen it in my own life. I know there's a lot going to pot in my house, my neighborhood, my city, my state, my country, and my world. I'm not going to hide behind some cloud of fluffy bunny rabbits and pretend it doesn't exist. I have an opinion and I'm not (usually) scared to share it.

Wade is. Afraid of me sharing my opinion. But that's for another time.

I want people to tell me how it's going to be instead of sugar coating it. I can handle the pain better if I'm prepared for it. So I guess, that's how I approach other people. Some want to hear it for what it is. Others want roses and puppy dogs. I'm happy to give you your roses and puppy dogs, but I might throw in some snakes and thorns so it doesn't all go to your head.

I may not be making my stamp on this world by curing cancer but I can write funny stories about mundane stuff that happens and hopefully bring a smile to at least one person's face and make my mark that way.

Which, I guess, it slightly better than just sitting around and bemoaning the current state of my house, my neighborhood, my city, my state, my country, and my world.

It's just who I am.

Totally Random Tuesday

This was suppose to be Monday Mutterings, but the power was out all evening and by the time it came back on it was time for bed. So now, it's Totally Random Tuesday. Kind of like tuesday's school lunch menu.

• As mentioned before, the power went out yesterday from 5 pm to about 10:30 pm. All because, apparently, a bird flew into the substation. Of course, no one outside our little valley knew this because the shed exploding in Heber and causing the power to go out for a couple hundred people took precedence. While the shed exploding was a much cooler story than a bird, the news should still be unbiased and report everything going on. Grilled bird anyone?
• For some reason, we decided that we'd eat at Macey's grocery store since we couldn't use our stove. This would be a decision that would haunt me for half the night and most of my morning run.
• My training buddy yesterday relayed the following story: She was standing in front of the mirror grabbing the skin on her stomach when her son walked in to the room. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Just looking at my stomach." she replied. He then preceded to give her a lecture on how it's been over a year since she had her last baby and she needs to get back in shape. "Your friend up the street (we're assuming me because I'm the only one to have had a baby in the last long while) wasn't fat after she had her baby." While I was flattered that someone thinks I'm all skinny and what not, I was slightly concerned that (a) he even noticed (b) he cares that much and (c) he's EIGHT.
• We've been doing swimming lessons last week and this week. I use the word "lessons" loosely. I have to FORCE Josh into the pool for his lesson. He cries. He screams like a little girl. He runs away and I have to chase him around the side of the pool. Basically, he embarasses me. The first day, a mother leaned over and said, "Oh, they're all like this the first time in this class (it's the class above the Mom and Tot class)." "Um, this is his second year." I casually replied, while inwardly sighing. However, as soon as it's play time, he's all game to go into the pool and play. I have to drag him out when it's time to go home.
• Yesterday at the pool, while my swimming training buddy was swimming her laps and I was keeping an eye on all the kids, her three year old needed to use the bathroom. I carried him in and sat him on the toilet, where he preceded to pee on EVERYTHING. I've never seen pee shoot that far in my life. It was all over and by the time I remedied the situation, he was done. Good thing we were at the pool and not at a nice restaurant, or Dillards, or pretty much anywhere else.
• To save $30 and a trip to InstaCare, I let another UTI (I know, I know. More fluids. Yada, yada, yada.) go over the weekend. At least this time it wasn't as bad as the camping one. I called the doctor's office yesterday to see if they'd call in a prescription for me. Of course not. But I did convince them to let me just come in for a urine sample without paying. If it turned out to be something else, I promised I'd march back out to the front desk and pay my $20 and see the doctor. Lo and behold it was another UTI. Hey, I went to school for 8 years too, you know. And I have the internet. I could be a doctor. It's not so hard.
• I have a lot of stories involving pee.
• We finally got all our doors hung in the basement. At this rate we should be done by Christmas. (Kidding, Wade.) Actually, we're hoping to be done by football season.
• Speaking of football season, after eight years of marriage, we finally caved and got cable. Just for football season, since BYU has sold out to the masses at the BCS and are getting greedy. We thought about getting season tickets, but then the games become an all day event on Saturdays and with Wade in school, he can't really afford to lose his entire Saturdays to football. Besides, season tickets would only get us half the games. So then we'd have to find someone who has the game and crash at their place. Once you add in traveling, eating, and visiting (because you can't just show up for the game), you're spending all day Saturday there too. So cable was the easiest option. Besides, with our new basement, there's no other place we'd rather watch the games at. One might argue that it would be infinitely better to just give up football, but in a Hadlock family that is not a viable option, so cable it is.

Sunday Battles

I've sired my older brother. That's the only explanation I can come up with. Josh is my brother, Eric, reincarnated. Except for that Eric is still alive and so I'm not entirely sure what that means for reincarnation...but you get the gist.

In short, I have a child who has EXACTLY the same personality traits that my older brother had when he was a kid and would ruthlessly tease me. The difference being that I can't just go lock myself in my bedroom and cry into my pillow and let my parents deal with it. Because it's MY kid.

So there are a lot of daily battles. But one of the biggest battles we face is the weekly Sunday Battle. It doesn't matter if I tell Josh we're going to church on Saturday night or if I just bombard him and get him dressed half asleep on Sunday morning, the kid does not want to go.

And I can't blame him. It's three hours of sitting still and listening to things that are way over your head. I still feel the same way and I'm an adult. I can only imagine what it must be like to be four at church.

Sunday mornings, I wrestle him into clothes and we head off to church--usually 15 or 20 minutes late. We herd him into primary and then pick him up afterwards and head to the chapel. Everything (usually) is okay for the first little while, but then his attention span is shot. He's done and he wants to go home NOW.

We use to bring treats and activities, but it only made things worse. The treats were a disaster and he'd get too frustrated with the activities and throw them at the back of little old ladies' heads. So, he doesn't get activities. Which, I realize, is a problem, because then he turns on me.

Today's activity was to lick me. Yes. Lick. As in stick-out-your-tongue-and-run-it-down-my-arm-or-leg-or-face. It's DISGUSTING. I hate this more than the scratching and the biting and the kicking. It's slimey and drippy and just plain gross. I know what he's doing because it'd be something my brother would have done. How much can he bug me until I lose it? And apparently, when his tongue is involved, my threshold is fairly limited. So, I take him out to the foyer and force him to sit on my lap, where he then proceeds to flash everyone my underwear by lifting up my skirt--first, with his hands, and then, after his hands were restrained, with his teeth. Meanwhile, one of the friends we were sitting next to in the chapel was texting a play-by-play to her husband from the foyer, where she was sitting on the couch, watching this drama unfold.

Apparently, Josh's yells got so loud that Wade could still hear him from inside the chapel and so he brought me the baby and took Josh off my hands before I totally lost it. Which was pretty close, because I could feel my neck start to heat up and my teeth grinding.

Afterwards, when I was relaying the story to my mom, she laughed and said "I wonder what the people sitting behind you were thinking."

"Oh, they were thinking that Josh is an angel, because their three year old pulled the fire alarm."

Right in the middle of the meeting the fire alarm went off, and I saw the two parents behind us look at each other. The dad stood up, said some choice words, and ran out to the foyer. Meanwhile, the bishopric had run down the aisle and the speaker was speaking over the automated voice telling us to leave the building immediately because a problem had been detected in the building.

15 minutes later, the dad--still red-faced and embarassed--returned with his kid. 5 minutes after that, he left and took the kid home and made him sit in the living room until the rest of the family returned from church. I only know this because it's our neighbor.

So, yes, compared to that, Josh was actually pretty well-behaved. Next week, we're separating for the meeting. Wade and Josh are going to sit on one side of the chapel and "The Quiet One" and I are going to sit on the other side. Maybe all will be well then.

Random Thoughts

• One leg and the tops of both feet plus an armpit got sunburnt today at swimming lessons. I guess the spray-on sunblock is not as effective in the wind.
• Speaking of the wussy, pasty white skin that I was blessed with, I've passed on an even wussier, pastier skin tone to my darling girl. It's a CHORE to make sure that she doesn't burn. Because, in the ten minutes it took me to find a bandaid for Josh in the swimming pool office, she managed to get a little pinkish. Even though she wasn't in direct sunlight. Josh was blessed with a deeper skin tone than either of his parents (the mailman has a nice shade of skin, I've noticed. Kidding. Wade's dad has a nice tone. As does my dad. The mailman is actually a maillady.) and so I have gotten use to being not as diligent getting the sunblock on AS SOON AS WE WAKE UP as I have to be with little Aunika, lest she sit at a stoplight too long in the pathway of the dangerous sun on our way to the pool.
• We had our own little Fourth of July party at our house with just the four of us. It was nice--burnt bbq pork chops, 2 year old temper tantrum thrown by a 4 year old, bug bites, and lame fireworks that were no match for the illegals that were going off down the street, yet apparently too much for Josh to handle as he spent the entire time with his ears plugged and his head lowered. Still it was our little family and that's all that matters. And popsicles were involved and everything is just a little bit better when there's popsicles.
• Still thinking about the dream house. Rationalizing why we should live there and not here. You know the usual. It's really so not like us to be holding on to something so seemingly unattainable, but neither one of us can shake it. Driving home last night from visiting my new niece, Wade looked over and sighed saying "the house and it's windows just glinted at me" as we were admiring the gorgeous sunset. At least we didn't drop in to view the sunset from the deck. Or watch fireworks from it as I proposed Saturday night. Saturday, we took some friends up there to see it and Josh stole a flyer from the For Sale sign. Once home, he cut out the picture of the house and asked me if this is "the house we like." Yes, yes it is.
• In keeping with the house theme, we came to a realization Saturday night that made us both sad and ashamed. I won't say what it is, but we have A LOT of habits that need to be changed should we want to put our home on the market in the future. Sigh. Laziness is so much easier.
• I have a new niece, that my brother was hoping would be a new nephew since they've had three girls already, that was born yesterday morning. She weighed in at a whooping 10 pounds 1 ounce. She's adorable and doesn't look to have been born with the dominant head shape that my brother has passed on to the others. Time will tell though. In any case, there was no baby hunger that filled my soul when I looked down at her like there was when I was holding babies about this time after I had Josh (confession--because, it was another 3 years before I could talk myself into actually doing it again since the rational part of my brain was like ARE YOU KIDDING?). Yesterday, it was like "oh, here's sweet Emily. She's so cute. Oh, let me hold you. Because that's what new aunts do. Has enough time elapsed that it doesn't look like I'm just throwing this baby at the next available set of arms? Hmmm....here you go mom." Perhaps my attitude was slightly marred by church yesterday.
• Yesterday, at church, Josh had to be taken out of the chapel--twice--by me, in which I'm sure those witnessing think that I'm the worst mother on the planet and I'll soon be fielding visits from DCFS. Though, I did manage not to scream at him. But I wanted to. After dressing my battle wounds, we returned to the chapel, where 5 minutes later, Josh was escorted out by his father. Approximately six minutes later, a sobbing four year old ran down the aisle and climbed up on my lap. I knew something was amiss because (a) he wasn't wearing shoes and (b) Wade was not in close pursuit. I figured that Wade was sitting out in the hall composing himself before rejoining us--perhaps taking a much needed break. However, after an acceptable amount of time had passed and no sign of Wade, I realized that Wade didn't have a clue that Josh was sitting on my lap in the chapel. I would've gotten up to inform Wade that I, indeed, had Josh (I mean, the Hadlock's have all but taken over center stage of the meeting anyways. We were sitting on the second row) but I also had a sleeping baby laying out on the bench. And I thought, the moment I stand up is the moment she'll roll off the bench and then what nasty names will people call us behind our backs (if they aren't already)? Luckily, I didn't have to make the decision because Wade strolled down the aisle, plucked Josh off my lap and strode back up and out the chapel, not to be seen for the rest of the meeting. Afterwards, some friends sitting in the foyer commented that Wade had come running in from outside and asked if they'd seen Josh. Nope, they replied, and Wade took off down the hall. Apparently, Josh had run away from Wade while they were outside and managed to make it around the corner and back into the chapel before Wade saw him. Wade was frantically looking for him and was on his way to tell me that our four year old was lost when he noticed Josh perched on my lap. When we finally met up after the meeting, Wade informed me that he had succeeded in selling Josh (a feat since I've been trying for like 2 years now. Kidding. Maybe.), but the person only had $20. Sold. Of course, we felt bad afterwards because Josh did overhear his father say that he had been sold, so we told him we'd never do that. It was a j0ke. He just shrugged and contined home. Josh had to sit in his room for four minutes for every time he had to be taken out (four times) plus another 5 minutes for not getting ready in the morning when I (politely, and then, not so politely and then demanded) asked him to before he got to eat lunch. 45 minutes later, all was better. Except for the mandatory nap he had to take after lunch for running off. Wow. That could've been a post all to itself. Sorry. I guess not such random thoughts afterall.

Terminal Velocity

Another national holiday, another 5k.

As with humbling experience #1 and humbling experience #2, 2009's humbling experience #3 involved running. I'm sure this is God's subtle way of telling me to find a different hobby.

As a side note, to keep my legions of fans (now up to almost ten--a shout out to Renae, who joined us last week, and the IMC Nursery Nurses, who may only be forced to read because of my biggest fan, my sister-in-law, but who still laugh in all the right places) happy, I have to sometimes reveal things about myself that I would otherwise not care to admit to. Especially if it makes a good story.

So here goes.

Deep breath...

Hi. My name is Sandra. I'm 28 years old and today, I lost ALL bladder control while running. And not just running a neighborhood jaunt at 6:00 in the morning when all sane people are inside, still in bed, but rather during the annual 4th of July 5k that precedes the parade in which THOUSANDS of people have lined up to watch.

While there would be some redemption in saying that I peed my pants in the final .10 miles as I was battling it out for first place, there is definitely no glory in admitting that it was within the first quarter mile, while trying to maintain a seven minute pace on the downhill--far from the sub-six minute pace that the winners were running.

I can say, now from experience, that it is extremely uncomfortable to run roughly 2.85 miles in soggy shorts and pee soaked socks.

In years past, the weather was hot enough that houses on the route would turn on their sprinklers to cool off the runners since it's a relatively late start time (8:30) for July. This would've been ideal because then I could (a) wash off and (b) make it look like I ran through sprinklers instead of peed my pants. Alas, today, the weather was a perfect 70 degrees. Not hot enough to warrant sprinklers, but definitely perfect to be running in. If you haven't peed yourself.

At the first water station, I ceremoniously dumped the cup of water on my head--as though it were 90 degrees and I was going to overheat if I had to go any further--in a futile attempt to make it look like my shorts were suppose to be wet. The shock of the cold water took my breath away, making it that much harder to run.

I crossed the line at an incredibly respectful 28:10, my fastest 5k EVER by over a minute and a whooping 5+ minutes faster than 2 weeks ago, but I'm positive that I could've beat 28 minutes had I not peed on myself. Oh the shame.

Thinking back, I do not recall having an overwhelming need to pee before the race began. In fact, there was no call to nature even as the event was unfolding. It wasn't until I was hitting those hills at a 7 minute pace that I realized I had reached terminal bladder velocity. As in, this is how fast I could slam the pavement and still maintain my diginity. Terminal bladder velocity was probably about 30 seconds slower than that. But by then, the damage was done and I had to keep up the pace so that any sprinkles felt by those nearby could be attributed to sweat and not, actually, loss of bladder control.

Go ahead. Laugh at my expense.

Life in the Drive Through

I spend Tuesdays with my mom. We usually go to eat and run errands. This week, Josh insisted on bringing a box of Mac and Cheese to my mom's house. So my mom made the yellow death and I opted to find us lunch at Taco Time.

Taco Time has the best fast food tacos out there, but their drive through lane is SO slow. I pulled in behind a cop and preceded to wait my turn. I saw the cop hand the money to the cashier and then put his car in park to await his food.

Meanwhile, across the parking lot is a grocery store gas station. These gas stations have no convenience stores, but just a little bubble that the attendent sits in.

Suddenly, the attendent starts yelling and both the cop and I look over at the commotion. A white SUV is peeling out of the parking lot and the attendant is gesturing to the cop and yelling that the car just stole gas.

Idiots. In front of a cop car and everything.

But in their defense, I do notice that the cop looks over to the food window, (longingly, I would imagine, but I'm not sure because I could only see the back of his head) hesitating before pulling out to chase the perps, leaving his (much anticipated?) food behind.

At least when Wade and I stole gas, we did it under cover of night and without known police presence (though it was next door to the police department). We even went inside the convenience store and hung out there for 20 minutes before hightailing it out.

Explanation?

Nah. Just lends to our mysteriousness. Though I will say this: Did you know that they keep pictures of you in the back in case you show up again? Yeah, we didn't know either.